“What do you want?” I asked now. The backs of my legs were still pressed against the desk. Abruptly, that bothered me. I forced myself to take a step forward. Stop retreating. Own the room. Seize control of the situation.
“E-mail addy,” Officer Mackereth said.
“Don’t have one.”
“Facebook page? Twitter account? MySpace?”
“Don’t own a computer.”
“Smartphone?”
“Don’t own a computer, a smartphone, an iPad, an iPod, an e-reader, or even a DVD player.”
“Off the grid,” Officer Mackereth observed.
“Frugal. If I want to go online, I visit the library. I can always check out a good book while I’m there.”
“What are you doing on the twenty-first?” he asked abruptly.
“What?”
“The twenty-first, Saturday morning. What are you doing?”
“Why?” My voice came out too high-pitched. At my sides, my hands were clenched. I don’t know if he noticed, but Tulip slunk over to me, pressing against my legs.
“You refused coffee. Turned down dinner. That leaves brunch.”
“Brunch?”
“Saturday, the twenty-first. One P.M. Café Fleuri at the Langham Hotel. All you can eat chocolate buffet. Best offer I got. What do you say?”
I…I didn’t know what to say. Then I didn’t have to. Because next to me, the monitor lit up, my headset started to chime, and I was literally saved by the bell.
I grabbed my headset, turned toward the ANI ALI screen.
“Can’t run from me forever,” Tom murmured behind me.
I whipped around abruptly, but he was already gone, flipping off the light switch and returning me to the gloom.
Chapter 16
FIVE THIRTY A.M. Jesse snuck out of bed. He used his best quiet feet, padding down the heavily shadowed hallway toward the kitchen table. The door to his mother’s bedroom was still closed. He paused, just in case, listening intently. No sounds from the other side. His mother slept. Good.
Jesse continued on to his target: the ancient laptop. It beckoned from the kitchen table. Battered case folded shut and topped by a waiting Home Run/Zombie Bear.
Jesse’s mother liked rules. One of them was no TV or computer time on school mornings. Monday through Friday they both got up at 6:30 A.M. They ate breakfast together, then Jesse’s mom packed his lunch while he got dressed, brushed his teeth, and combed his hair. By 7:20, he was thundering down the apartment stairs to the curb below, where he caught the 7:30 bus.
That was the drill. Jesse went to school, his mom went to work.
Monday through Friday, Jesse followed the schedule, played by the rules. It made his mom happy, and Jesse liked it when his mom was happy. She smiled more, ruffled his hair, bought him treats she didn’t really approve of, such as Twinkies. It was just the two of them, Jenny and Jesse against the world, she would tell him. They would snuggle together on the sofa each night, where she would read him Goosebumps novels and he would rest his head against her chest like he was still a little kid and it was all right, because it was just the two of them, Jesse and Jennifer against the world.
Jesse loved his mother.
Jesse couldn’t sleep last night. He couldn’t stop thinking about Helmet Hippo and their afternoon together on AthleteAnimalz.com. Jesse had always enjoyed the website. It was something to do. But yesterday… Yesterday had been way cool. He’d not only had something fun to do, he’d had someone fun to do it with. A real friend who believed in Jesse, thought Jesse could do anything. An older kid who liked him.
Jesse wanted to go back online.
Even though it was a school morning.
He had a plan. First up, he’d set his watch alarm for one hour before his mother woke up. Sun wasn’t even up yet, so his room had been cold and dark as he’d crawled quietly out of bed. He’d paused long enough for his fleecy bathrobe. Then, the soft glow of the hallway night-light had beckoned him out of his dark room, into the apartment, where he followed its glow toward the family room. The sound of his footsteps were dampened by his footy PJs until at last, he arrived, on a school morning, in front of the computer. He chewed his lower lip. Eyed Zombie/Home Run Bear.
Gave in to the impulse.
Quickly, he shoved aside Zombie Bear, popped open the top, hit the power button, and heard the computer whine wearily to life.
The old computer took a while to load. So, while it woke up, Jesse moved on to the next phase of his plan. He was going to feed himself breakfast. Then, he was going to fix his own lunch. Then, he was going to pack his own backpack.
That way, when his mother got up, and inevitably discovered him on the computer, she couldn’t get too mad. He’d eaten breakfast, right? He was all ready for school, right? He’d even helped her by fixing his own lunch, right?
Sometimes, rules could be bent a little. It was just a matter of proper mom management.
Jesse tiptoed into the tiny kitchenette. He cracked open the refrigerator, using its glow to guide him as he carefully climbed onto the kitchen counter, eased down a bowl, found the Cheerios, poured the milk. Breakfast took about five minutes. He resisted the urge to check on the computer, as the kitchen table was next to his mother’s bedroom and activity in there was more likely to wake her. Better to stay tucked away in the kitchen, getting through morning chores.
Next up, lunch. He was a bologna man. Liked it with a little mayo and one slice of Kraft American cheese. He preferred white bread, but his mother only bought wheat. White is like eating a piece of sugar, she told him, which only made him like white bread more.
Jesse got out two pieces of wheat bread. Struggled with the squeeze bottle of mayonnaise. He had to use two hands. First nothing came out, then half the bottle exploded out in a giant white blob. He did his best to smooth it with a knife, but when he finally added the cheese and bologna and put the two slices together, mayo oozed everywhere.
A wet, messy sandwich. The price to be paid for morning AthleteAnimalz. Jesse felt philosophical as he stuffed the gooey mess into a sandwich Baggie and plopped it into his lunch box. He added an apple and a snack-sized bag of pretzels. School would provide a carton of milk.
He zippered up his Transformers lunch box, loaded it into his backpack, and rocked back on his heels, feeling pretty good. He’d done it. Breakfast and lunch, all by 6 A.M. Not that hard, either.
Except then he glanced at his hands, still covered in greasy mayo. And the kitchen counter, which was dotted with even more mayo, pieces of cereal, and bits of bread. Better clean up or his mother would freak.
Back on the counter. Running the water thinly, doing the best he could with the sponge, smearing around the mayo, chasing the bread crumbs. Another quick rinse, and he hopped down, careful to land on soft feet before taking a deep breath, closing up the refrigerator, and finally creeping out of the tiny kitchen. His hands were maybe a little greasy. But not too bad, he thought. Close enough.
Laptop. Open. No longer wheezing. Waiting for him.
Jesse sidled up to it. He could already feel his heart race with anticipation. One last second, straining his ears for any sound from his mother’s room…Silence.
Jesse typed in www.AthleteAnimalz.com and hit return.
HE HAD MAIL. And not from Helmet Hippo, which surprised him. He was still figuring out the rules for mailing another player. From what he could tell, “talking” to another animal during a game was subject to a lot of restrictions; each animal could only pick from the Go Team Go list of expressions to appear in the conversation bubble over its head. But e-mailing…that seemed to be fair game. Helmet Hippo could write anything, a real letter to Jesse. And Jesse could write a real letter back, which he thought was pretty cool. Like a big kid talking to a big kid. This latest e-mail, however, wasn’t from Helmet Hippo. This morning someone else had found him: Pink Poodle.