Average Joe and the Extraordinaires (19 page)

Chapter
32

The Olive
Branch

It had
taken forever, but Joe finally managed to calm down.  He lay down, remaining
perfectly still for what seemed like an hour, but it could’ve easily been two
hours.  He made sure to enjoy all of the quiet while he could.  He had barely
slept last night, and even the few hours of sleep he got were fretful.

He
contemplated getting up, but that required too much effort.  He flipped over to
his stomach and tried to lie like that.

Joe:
“Ow!  Stupid cellphone.”

Joe
pulled his red smart-phone from his pocket and instinctively reached for the
other one, until he remembered that Borland had snatched it in a rage
yesterday.  From what Joe could tell, the man was mad that Joe had even gotten
on stage with the doomed politician.  He said that Joe had played right into
the bad guys' hands by doing that, and put his own life in danger.  He said
they had most likely tried to take Joe and the governor out in one fell swoop.

Borland
reserved the bulk of his anger on the subject of all the interviews Joe had given. 
He told Joe that he was making his own bull’s-eye bigger.  Joe had only done
the interviews because the governor had insisted, and for his part Everstone
had given Joe nothing but praise during the multitude of interviews.  Joe
himself barely said anything, only backing up the governor when needed.  His
parents had become a bit fanatical.  They had set out to record every one of
his interviews.  He had done one for each of the big news stations.

In the
distance he could hear the antiquated ring of the house phone, which was a rare
annoyance to hear.  It rang for a while, until he heard the low voice of his
mother.  After a few more moments, she yelled up to him high and loud.

Mrs.
Black: “JOE TE-LE-PHONE!”

He lazily
shifted to a semi-seated position and reached for his slippers.

Joe: “Okay,
Mom!”

Anyone he
wanted to talk to would’ve called his cell phone.  He was already dreading the
call.  He shuffled down the stairs in no particular rush, and his mom handed
him the phone with a smile on her face.

Mrs.
Black: “Don’t worry, it’s good news.”

He put
the phone to his ear.

Joe:
“Hello?”

Patrias:
“Ah hello, Joseph!  It’s good to hear that you’re okay after all that happened
yesterday.  What a mess that was!”

Joe
remained silent.  Patrias’ false courtesy was annoying, or maybe it was real
courtesy.  Either way, Joe wanted to slam the phone down and hang up on the
man.

Patrias:
“What you did yesterday was a wonderful act, and in my opinion totally deserves
a reward.  That’s why I want to end your suspension and welcome you back with
open arms.”

Joe
remembered his last conversation with the governor, how he had promised to get
Joe’s suspension lifted.  Patrias was just playing nice because his bosses told
him to.  Joe figured he could use that to turn the situation in his favor.

Joe:
“What about Mod?  Can he come back with me?  I would have a tough time without
my best friend backing me up.”

Joe could
imagine the smile on Patrias’ face fading.

Patrias:
“Well, that wasn’t agreed upon.”

Joe: “By
who?  Me and you?  Or you and your boss?  Well, if that’s the case I think I’ll
just enjoy my time off.”

Patrias:
“Yes, yes.  I see, I see.  You are much smarter than I gave you credit for. 
Tell your friend Mod that he is welcome back along with you.  I expect both of
you to report back bright and early Monday morning.”

Joe:
“That sounds good, thanks.”

Joe hung
up before the principal could initiate any more chat. 
Maybe I should’ve
asked for more
, he thought,
like a handicap to getting off the zero
tolerance list
.  He shrugged to himself.  Just then his mom walked up with
two cups of tea in her hands.  She handed one to Joe, which he gratefully
accepted.

Joe:
“Thanks, Ma!”

She
nodded her head and took a sip of her drink.

Mrs.
Black: “So it sounds like Mr. Patrias is on the Joe bandwagon now too.”

Joe: “I
don’t think so.  I’m pretty sure he still hates me, but the governor said he’d
make some calls to help me out.”

Mrs.
Black: “The governor!  You two are close like that?”

Joe:
“Well, you know, I did kind of save his life.”

Joe
grinned as he said that and his mother chuckled.

Mrs.
Black: “Noted, Mr. Smarty-pants.  Well, dinner’s here early.  I picked up some
takeout from the buffet.  Most of it is stuff you like.”

Joe’s
mouth started to water at the thought of that.

Joe: “Oh
wow, the buffet!  Thanks, Mom.”

Mrs.
Black: “Eat up, champ.  I have to get back to the store to sort out this
order.  Your dad should be back soon.”

She
kissed his forehead and made for the side door.

Joe:
“Have fun…”

She
looked at him and dramatically rolled her eyes.

Mrs.
Black: “Never mind that.  You just try to stay out of trouble.  You may be a
hero to everyone else now, but you’re still my little boy.  If anything happens
to you I’ll … you just be good, okay?”

She
turned her head and wiped her face with her shirt collar.

Joe:
“I’ll try.”

Mrs.
Black: “I suppose that’s the best I could ask for.”

With that,
she was out the door, and soon after drove off.  Joe couldn’t stand making a woman
cry, especially his mom.  It just hit him how worried she must’ve been for him
this whole time.  That made him think about Kate and her tears.  So he called
her.  He also called Mod to give him the news of his reentry.  He sounded less
than thrilled about it.

************

Joe found
himself excited to go back to school after a restful weekend where he did
nothing but eat and watch T.V.  He rushed through breakfast and couldn’t
remember what he ate to save his life.  He felt that new paths were opening up
to him and suddenly his normally boring life didn’t seem so bleak.

He picked
Mod up in front of his house like they had agreed.  The bruises and welts on
Mod’s face had healed well.  They were nearly gone now.  Mod sat down in the
car looking rather somber.

Joe:
“What’s wrong with you?”

Mod:
“Nothing, just been thinking…”

He closed
the door after he seated himself.

Joe: “‘Bout
what?”

Mod: “A
lot of stuff, but mainly about how we got suspended.”

Joe: “Oh
that … well what happened, happened.”

Joe drove
off down the street enjoying the cool air pouring in from his lowered windows.

Mod: “Yeah,
well, it could’ve been avoided if I hadn’t been acting like a bucket-head.”

Joe: “The
video was wrong, but that’s only because you humiliated Fleez and Dozz’s
families too.”

Mod:
“Yeah I know.  That’s what I’ve been thinking about.  I crossed the line by
putting them in it.  Comedy is comedy until it turns malicious.  I took it too
far because I was out for blood.  I wanted to hurt them so bad for what they
did to me and Meribeth.  I wanted them to feel that embarrassment tenfold. 
That’s no excuse though.  Today I’m going to find them and apologize to them,
if they’re here.”

Joe: “Wow,
that’s mighty big of you.  Knowing Patrias, they’ll be here.  He hates me
enough to bring them back on the same day.”

It took
them no time at all to make it to school, which was barely populated since it
was still so early.  They both waited near the front doors for Fleez and Dozz. 
Eventually they got their wish when the duo walked up in their customary Team
Badd Azz vests and tight jeans.

Dozz:
“Look, Fleez!  Here comes a new challenger!”

They
looked at Joe and Mod with both humor and contempt.  Joe wasn’t sure which to
be more afraid of.

Dozz:
“Think they’re ready for round two?”

Fleez:
“Doubtful.  They’re still licking their wounds from the thrashing I gave them
last time.”

It was
amazing, but Fleez had absolutely no scratches, wounds, or bruises that Joe
could see.  He was entirely unscathed from their encounter.

Joe: “You
guys didn’t get suspended?”

Fleez
laughed.

Fleez:
“We’re awesome, but not that awesome.  Principal Prickly-Head let us back today,
saying something about fair treatment.  I’m just glad to get another shot at
rearranging both of your faces.  I want to make Joe’s face look like
The
Scream
by Munch, and Modrick I want your face to look like a custom Van
Gogh.”

Joe
tensed up at that, ready for another fight.

Mod:
“Wait!  There’s no need for that.”

Fleez:
“I’ve waited long enough.  I won’t wait any longer to crush you, especially
after what you did.”

Mod:
“That’s what I’m trying to address here.  I want to apologize for what I did. 
I know it was wrong.”

Fleez:
“Apologizing won’t save you.  I’m going to break your face, maybe make it a bit
prettier.”

Mod stood
his ground.

Mod: “You
think I’m scared of you?  I’ve already shown you that I’m not.  You can hurt me
all you want, but you won’t out-prank me.  What I’m apologizing for is putting
your families in that video.  I should have had more tact and cut them out of
it completely.  I don’t apologize for any parts you were in though.  You two
are fair game, and I look forward to making your lives more miserable in the
future.”

Fleez
smiled a great big smile and patted Mod on the shoulder.  Mod nearly jumped out
of his skin at that.

Fleez: “I
accept your sincere and surprisingly bad azz apology, and look forward to your
measly attempts to make my life miserable.  Such attempts will be answered with
your crushing defeat of course, but should still provide some entertainment to
me and my colleague here—I mean my colleague and I.”

He stuck
his hand out to a grinning Mod.  They shook hands, until Fleez twisted Mod’s
arm behind his back and gave him what Joe had only seen in movies and cartoons
from the early nineties, an atomic wedgie.  Mod was left speechless as a group
of girls walked by gawking at his ruined and supremely elastic underwear that
now crowned the top of his head.  They walked away giggling, leaving Mod
mortified.

Dozz: “It
looks like one point on the board for Team Badd Azz.”

He and
Fleez slapped hands, chuckling.

Fleez:
“Where’s that leave you, Joe?  We see that you keep doing bigger and badder Badd
Azz deeds.  You keep people guessing, which is our M.O. Going from terrorist to
local hero was the smoothest play we’ve seen so far.  We want you on our team,
now more than ever.”

Joe
didn’t even have to think about that one.

Joe:
“Sorry, fellas, I already have a team.”

He looked
at Mod, who had painfully removed the underwear from his cranium and was trying
to neatly tuck it back into his pants.  He remembered their stage name back
when they put on their rap performance and then thought of his new friends:
Borland, Liandra, Dahlila, and Melissa.  Then he thought of Kate.

Fleez:
“You’re not a real team unless you have a name.”

Joe: “And
we have one … the Extraordinaires.”

Chapter
33

The
Bloody Edifice

The rest
of the day felt extremely long to Joe, and exhausting.  His act of saving the
governor’s life had, of course, become the talk of town and school.  Half of
his classes were devoted to talking about just that, the other half spent
plodding through a myriad of missed assignments and watching teachers give him
the evil eye.  The teachers seemed to either love him or hate him these days. 
Joe had come to miss the reckless indifference they had shown him before.  He
didn’t really like all the attention, but it was much more positive than
before.

Even
though it was refreshing to get positive attention for a change, Joe was still
entirely sick of it all.  He was tired of hearing about the situation, tired of
explaining what had happened, and most of all he was tired of all the stares
that accompanied his every step. 

There
were only two people he could think of that didn’t know what he had gone
through the last couple of days, and they were at the one place he could go to
forget about everything.  The only thing he could think of for the majority of
the day was visiting them.  Neither Melissa nor Dahlila would ask about the
news story, and besides that he wanted to enjoy their company.  As abnormal as
their situation was, they’d provide him with the normalcy he needed.  He was
tired of basking in his own problems.  He wanted to help them get their normal
lives back as much as he craved it for himself.  To do that, they all needed to
work together to put Blonsky and now Grabas behind bars.

Today was
a perfect day.  The sun was out, but the fine breeze had spread cool air around
the city. On days like this Joe felt lucky that he lived in the Sunshine
State.  The ride through the streets was buttery smooth as the roads were
mostly clear.  He made it to the clock tower in no time at all, but when he
arrived something was amiss.  He pulled into the back, neglecting to properly
park, and ran and examined the door on the ground.  It had been ripped from its
hinges and discarded like trash.  The doorway to the clock tower was wide
open.  Joe walked up the stairs to get a better view.  Before he walked in, he
texted Liandra for backup in case there was any trouble around.

He
stepped into the doorway and looked around anxiously for signs of intruders. 
The door into the chapel was torn down as well, but there was nothing in there
but dusty footprints, a lot of them.  He searched around carefully and silently
for anything that could tip him off on what had happened here.

He found
nothing in the temple area, so he moved to the wrought-iron steps.  Halfway up,
he spotted blood.  It was thin and hard to spot at first against the black iron,
but with every step it grew a bit thicker.  He followed the blood trail all the
way up to the top, until he found her heaped in a corner.

Joe:
“DAHLILA!”

He
couldn’t even tell if she was breathing.  He ran to her and dropped to his
knees.  Before he knew it, tears were falling down his face for this girl he
barely knew.  She was face down when he found her, but he flipped her onto her
back.

Joe:
“Dahlila, come on, say something!  It’s me, Joe!”

He didn’t
know what to do and cursed himself for barely passing health class and not
paying attention to those CPR lessons.  He didn’t know how to wake her up, so
he started to panic and scream.  Just then, her eyes moved inside her eyelids. 
He had seen it happen, but barely.  He calmed after that.  She was losing a lot
of blood from the front of her right thigh.  Countless T.V. shows had shown him
that he needed to stop the loss of blood.  He took off his T-shirt, which was
coincidently red, and folded it down the middle vertically.  She was wearing
navy blue track pants and the blood was gushing through a large hole.  A lot of
it was already on the floor beneath her.  He couldn’t avoid staining his
A-shirt that he wore underneath his tee.

After
examining her wound, he puzzled out that it had to be from a gunshot, only it
was much bigger than he had imagined.  He had never seen a gunshot wound up
close before.  He ripped away the bottom of her right pant leg, everything
below the thigh.  He then tightly and carefully wound his tee around the
wound.  He knotted the ends together and said a little prayer afterwards.  When
he touched her forehead, she shuddered, and then her breathing became loud and
ragged, but he didn’t know what to do after that.  He called Liandra, but she
didn’t answer.

Joe:
“Come on, Dahlila!  Wake up!”

She
coughed wildly and talked barely above a whisper.

Dahlila:
“Five more minutes, Papa…”

He nearly
smiled at the sound of her voice.

Joe:
“Stop, no jokes.  You’re hurting yourself.”

Dahlila:
“You’re right … we don’t have time.  We have to go get Melissa…”

She
couldn’t even keep her eyes open all the way.

Joe: “We
can’t.  Not with you like this.”

Dahlila:
“Then you go.  They can’t have … gotten far … if the sun’s still out … look for
a Green … Taurus.”

Joe: “I’m
sorry.  I just can’t leave you like this.  You could die.”

She tried
her best to sit up.

Dahlila:
“Damn your sorries!  There’s a little girl … who needs us…”

That
outburst had cost her a great deal of strength.  She rested back and took in
long haggard breaths.

Joe: “I
know, I know!  We have to wait for Liandra.  She’ll be here any minute.”

They sat
on the floor together in silence until Liandra’s arrival five minutes later. 
She was her normal raven-haired self, but noticeably more tense and serious. 
She quickly and wordlessly started examining Dahlila’s thigh.

Liandra:
“You keep getting into trouble, girlie.  This time it looks like you crossed
the wrong person.”

She
untied the shirt that Joe used to slow the bleeding with and cast it aside. 
She looked at the wound as if it were a caterpillar under a microscope.  There
wasn’t a hint of distress on her face.

Dahlila:
“It wasn’t by choice.  I didn’t even recognize the guy calling the shots.”

Liandra:
“Well, I’m playing this tight here.  If we don’t get you properly taken care of
soon you won’t be with us too much longer.  Joe, get me that cup from the
table.”

Joe ran
to the table and back.  He placed the cup near her side.

Dahlila:
“I got shot … got shot running up the stairs … don’t know who…”

Liandra:
“Okay, save your strength for now.  I need you to survive this.  Joe, give me
your belt.”

He didn’t
understand why she wanted his belt, but he knew that he didn’t have time to
question her.  He removed the belt from his pants and handed it to her.

Liandra:
“I want you to bite on this for a little while, okay?”

Dahlila
opened her mouth and chomped down on the black leather.  Liandra then slowly and
meticulously waved her hand across Dahlila’s leg. When she got to the wound,
she stopped and hovered over it.

Liandra:
“This will hurt.  I want you to keep biting down on that belt.”

Dahlila
winced and screamed.  The sound was largely muffled though, straining her jaw
muscles from the pressure she was exerting against Joe’s belt.  After that,
Liandra dropped something into the cup.  A curious Joe looked down into the cup,
but only saw something small and red.  He moved the cup around and saw the
silver shining on the other side of the object.

Joe: “Is
this…?”

Liandra:
“Yes, that’s the bullet she was shot with.”

Joe:
“That quick?”

Liandra:
“That quick.”

Liandra
took something from her messenger bag and was now rubbing it across Dahlila’s
thigh.  It was orange and looked like makeup for tanners.

Liandra:
“Before you even ask, this is a salve that I got from overseas.  This should
help seal that wound up in no time flat.  The only thing she needs now is for
her strength to return.  I need you to bring up some water, not too cold.  Take
these too.”

She
tossed a small sack at him.  He caught it, loosened the drawstring, and peeked
inside to see tiny albino-colored beans.

Joe:
“What are these?”

Liandra:
“You picked a great time to be curious.  Never mind what they are.  Just take
them, boil them, and bring them back here.  It shouldn’t take long, about ten
minutes max.  Don’t forget to bring the water, and don’t pour out that bean
water either.  Save it, bottle it, and bring it with you.  She’ll need it.”

Joe
nodded his head and dashed downstairs while he could still remember all that
she told him.  He moved as fast as he could.

He came
back ten minutes later carrying a jug of water and a steaming bowl of albino
beans.  The bean water he left in a thermos downstairs since he wasn’t blessed
with a third hand.  He set it all down near Liandra and watched her work.  She
wrapped Dahlila’s wound tightly with a fresh bandage.  She then took some sort
of liquid out of her bag and poured it on top of the beans.  Whatever it was,
it was brown and had a sweet earthy smell.  She then pulled out a small bowl,
poured a handful of herbs into it, then crushed it all with a wooden masher. 
She put the herbs into the mixture and crushed it all up until it formed into a
greenish brown paste.  She spoon-fed a little to a shivering Dahlila, whom she
had to coax to swallow.

Liandra:
“She’s slipping.  I can’t feed her like this.  We’ll need that bean water to
make this go faster.  I need to make this into a full-on draught.  Where’s that
bean water?”

Joe
cursed himself for leaving it.

Joe:
“I’ll go get it.”

“Don’t
worry yourself.  Rest your legs, young man.”

Both Joe
and Liandra jumped at the sudden intrusion.  They turned to face the intruder. 
He was remarkably close, only a few paces away.  How he got there without
anyone noticing was anyone’s guess.  He stood tall, pale, and thin.  He had a
head full of wild black hair with two silver “wings” above his temples on both
sides of his head.  His face was a blank slate, and his eyes were icy blue
streams hidden under the thick silver canopy of his eyebrows.  He wore black
robes patterned with white designs and gold trim.

Liandra
rose to her feet quicker than Joe could react.

Liandra:
“Who are you?”

He smiled,
showing all of his teeth, which greatly disturbed Joe.  The tall man saw this
and quickly hid his chompers.

“I’m
sorry for that, it’s just that I rarely ever get that question anymore.  To answer
you, my name is … Claude.  I am the minister … or rather the keeper of these
grounds and protector of this most hallowed edifice.”

Joe had
never seen this man before.  He’d remember someone who looked like him, talked
like him, and dressed like him.

Liandra:
“What do you want?  Why are you here?”

Claude:
“You certainly are … spirited.  A great quality in one so young.”

He smiled
again, this time more subdued.

Claude:
“To answer your question, I WANT to give you this…”

He pulled
the thermos that Joe had left downstairs from his sleeve.  He beckoned Joe over
to him and smiled at him.

Claude:
“Two trips up these winding stairs is more than enough, wouldn’t you agree?”

He handed
Joe the thermos and Joe carefully handed it to Liandra, who was still eying
their guest.

Claude:
“As for the why … well … I work here, as I have said.”

Liandra:
“Fair enough.  Now excuse me, I was in the middle of something important.”

She
slowly removed her gaze from him and focused on mixing the still hot water with
the paste she’d made.

Claude:
“It smells like an Iasian draught, but that would be impossible.  That’s
certainly a lost recipe from ancient times that no one currently living should
know.”

He smiled
at her, apparently too excited to hide his teeth this time.

Claude:
“Even though we know that’s not an Iasian draught, if it was it would be the
perfect medicine to restore all the blood that she has lost.  Too bad that’s
impossible, correct?”

Liandra
remained silent and kept force-feeding  Dahlila.  After a few minutes of that,
Dahlila opened her eyes all the way and used them to survey her surroundings. 
She sat up, now fully awake.  The color in her cheeks had returned as well.

Liandra:
“Welcome back.  You feel like telling us what happened here?”

Dahlila:
“I’ll be brief.  Once I’m on my feet I’m leaving to go get Melissa.  Anyone
that tries to stop me is taking a one way trip down that staircase.  To sum it
up: I was attacked by a group of those thugs in black suits, shot, roughed up,
and after all that they took Melissa and left me.  Why?  They didn’t say.  I
just know that they won’t have her for much longer.  Questions, anyone?”

Joe:
“Guys in black suits?  Like at the stadium?”