Average Joe and the Extraordinaires (9 page)

Dozz:
“Fear not, serfs.  All you innocent casualties can rest knowing that no real
puke was used in this spectacle, only mustard, vinegar, old mayonnaise, pickle juice,
and shame.”

Fleez
looked at Joe, grinning while Dozz continued.

Dozz:
“Don’t miss our next show. We’re here all day, folks.”

Chapter
17

The Price
of Popularity

Joe
couldn’t stomach being at school any longer.  It was just a bad day for it.  He
decided to leave once he heard that Mod went home right after the lunchroom
incident, which neither Fleez nor Dozz got in trouble for.  It had caused a
stir by the lunchroom doors after Mod was escorted out.  A few teachers were
huddled outside the doors, talking, and Joe even glimpsed Principal Patrias
standing amidst them.  As he walked past he heard Mr. Serano say, “Kids will be
kids,” and both he and Patrias had looked at Joe.

Once Joe
got past the gaggle of faculty members, no one tried to stop his early exit. 
Joe had a feeling that none of his teachers wanted him there anyway.  On his
way to his car he saw the girl from before with the red hair again, and that
made him miss Kate.  She had been so heroic earlier, helping her brother like
that.  Joe had no idea how she had even known her brother was in trouble.  It
wasn’t her lunch period, and Joe knew she had a class at that time.  He figured
someone must’ve texted her.

He sailed
through the streets and enjoyed the pleasant air.  The day wasn’t as hot as it
normally was of late.  He rounded the corner from Gator Street into his own
neighborhood.  He drove a few blocks down from his own house to the house of
the Malingtons.  The driveway was opened, but Joe parked on the street. 
Mr.
and Mrs. Malington must still be at work
, he thought.  He walked up the
steps to the door and knocked on the outside screen door.  There was no
answer.  He knocked again and still no answer.  He went to the side door and
knocked, but there was still nothing.  He took a peak into Mod’s window and saw
that he wasn’t in his room.

If he’s
not here, then where is he?
he thought.  But he knew where Mod was,
truthfully.  There could be only one place, well maybe two places, but of the
two he knew which one Mod would pick today.

He dashed
to his car and drove off in pursuit of his friend.  He took Gator Street down
two miles and turned on Crownwell Drive.  Down Crownwell he found another
street called Gains and took that down for a few blocks until he got to Sapton
Street.  The clock tower was on the corner and it was a joy to look upon.  It
rose high, at about seventy feet, and had a dark blue rooftop.  The bricks
themselves were a sort of light blue as well, so light they almost appeared
white.

Joe
parked his car in the alley and walked into the clock tower through the back
door.  Inside, it was cooler than out, and much quieter.  He wasted no time and
walked to the staircase.  The inside of the tower had an old-time feel.  It
felt like you were transported to the past when you looked at the bricks, the
metalwork, the furniture, and even the kitchen appliances.  The staircase
itself was made of old black iron, from the stairs to the rails.  Joe climbed,
dreading every step.  He knew that once he reached the top his legs would start
to burn.  It was a tall climb, but Joe didn’t fear it. Despite being very old,
this tower's staircase was very sturdy.  The old iron was nothing if not
strong.  At the halfway point Joe looked upwards to see if someone was here,
but he didn’t need to see any signs to know that someone was.

At the
top Joe’s prediction came true. To his displeasure, his thighs ached from the
climb.  It had been a while since he had done it and that was coming back to
haunt him.  He looked around for a bit and decided to ascend even higher.  He
climbed more stairs to the platform that led to the low ledge that he had to
climb to get to the open window near the western clock-face.  Sitting here was
Mod.  He looked out into the rest of Orangetown, his red hair catching the
breeze.  He looked sad.  Joe was used to the boy being so animated, but now he
was quiet and still.  He seemed to not even notice Joe.  His ukulele sat
lifeless in his lap.  Joe knocked softly on the brick.

Mod:
“Come in.”

Joe
laughed.  It was strange to think of the clock tower as someone’s home, but in
a weird way it was kind of like a second home to him and Mod and Kate.

Joe: “Wow,
you brought that thing back out!  You used to always play this to cheer me and
Kate up.”

Mod
smiled and played a whimsical melody that eventually turned into a sound that
Joe was very familiar with, just not on ukulele.  Joe started giggling
uncontrollably.  He waited for Mod to break in with his lyrics.  Mod did not
disappoint.

Mod:
“Gotta keep it classy.  Don’t wanna be ashy.  Makin’ it rain at the club. 
Ladies showin’ a brotha love.  It feels good to be a G.  Livin’ high like only
me.  I show love to my crew.  But that I think you knew.  Big Mo up in ya ear. 
Tellin’ you what you need to hear.  I don’t bow down and play like a pranksta’. 
Because this G is a certified gansta’!”

Joe
laughed uncontrollably.  It had been a while since he heard Mod recite those
lyrics.

Joe:
“Haha, man, I’m surprised you remembered that old rap.”

Mod: “Of
course I do.  That was my first real shot at fame.  Do you still remember your
part?”

Joe: “No
not really.”

Mod:
“Psshaw, liar.  I can tell that you do.”

Mod
started playing the tune again on his ukulele.  Joe smiled.

Joe: “I’m
not your average Joe, cuz I’m a real cool bro.  I came here to stop the show,
give you peeps that old school flow.  I ain’t just a show stopper, I’m also a
body rocker.  I don’t stop … believin’ and achievin’ at the next level because
I’m history’s number one rebel!  Lil’ Joe is on the mic, and when I spit it’s
always tight.  Doin’ it the way that’s right, I’m so cool it’s outta sight!”

Mod and
Joe: “Oooooh!  Oooooooh!”

Mod:
“That’s hot fire.”

He
touched Joe’s shirt and made a hissing sound and quickly removed his hand as if
he’d been burned.  They both started laughing uncontrollably.  Joe’s stomach
and face started hurting after a while from all the laughing.

Joe:
“Stop, stop!  I can’t take it anymore!  You’re killing me here, man!  We can't
ever rap those horrible lyrics again as long as we’re alive on this earth. We
need to make a pact.”

Mod:
“Pact schmact!  You do that, I'm good.  You know, when I rapped on stage like
that, with you right beside me, it was one of the best moments of my life.  I
worked on the lyrics for that song for weeks.  I had to get ‘em just right.”

Joe: “I
remember that the whole school loved it, except for the older teachers.  We
almost got in trouble for the lyrics, remember?”

Mod:
“Yeah, even though we watered them down like crazy.  Stupid teachers never
recognize genius when it’s in front of them.”

Joe was glad
that Mod’s sullen mood had lifted.  He wanted Mod to stay in high spirits but
felt that he did need to address the earlier situation.  After a lull in the
laughs, Joe found his moment.

Joe:
“So…”

Mod beat
him to the punch.

Mod: “So
you made Dozz and Fleez’s target list.  How’d you manage that?”

Joe: “Mod
— I’m sorry man!  That got way out of hand.  I have no idea why they took it
that far and why they took it out on you.  It should’ve been me instead of
you.  I went to help you too, but Kate was already there so fast.  I’d take it
all back if I could.”

Mod
smiled and laid his ukulele on his lap.  He looked out at the town sprawled
down below him.  Joe looked too and noticed how empty everything looked today. 
The people and cars were sparse today, but that made the bright blue sky above
even more striking as it met with tiny skyward buildings in the distance.

Mod:
“It’s alright, man, seriously.  My reputation took a hit … well, not really
since I don’t even have one.  But — you know, this is good.”

Joe: “I
fail to understand how.”

Mod:
“Well, Joe, you’re heavy-handed friends have actually done me a little favor.”

Joe: “I
still don’t see how.”

Mod:
“I’ll tell you. Before today you could ask most people in the halls what my
name was and not one would know it.”

Joe:
“That’s not true.”

Mod:
“Psshaw.  Only you, Kate, and a handful of others know who I am.”

Joe: “And
that’s not a bad thing.”

Mod: “Not
for you maybe.  You have a girlfriend and now you’re famous.  I don’t have any
of that.”

Joe:
“You’re only in ninth grade.  You have plenty of time to get a girl and a
little popularity.”

Mod: “I
need that now!  I don’t want to be a nobody forever.  Or stay here stuck in
this town.  I want my renown, as the heroes of yore called it, to be high.  I
have a shot now. Thanks to Fleez and Dozz the whole school will be talking
about today’s lunchroom circus and me by proxy.”

Joe: “But
they’ll be talking about how you were humiliated.”

Mod: “The
point being that they’re talking about me.  All publicity is good publicity,
Joe.  They know how I look.  Now we just have to get them to remember my name.”

Joe:
“They said that they won’t stop.  They’re going to humiliate you every day
unless I do something.”

Mod:
“Like what?”

Joe: “I
don’t know.”

There was
a silence between them that lasted a while.

Mod:
“I’ll be ready for whatever they throw at me, and don’t worry, I have a plan.”

Mod
smiled and that somehow made Joe uneasy.  He wasn’t sure if Mod was being
honest and he honestly needed to think of something to get the bullies off of
Mod’s case.  He nodded his head anyway.

Joe: “Is
Kate here with you?”

Joe felt
the need to whisper those words.

Mod:
“No.  I had her drop me off here and she went back to school, saying something
about a test.”

Joe was
almost relieved.  He still had no idea what to say when he saw her, but he did
want to see her.  He and Mod hung out at the clock tower for the better part of
the day, laughing and reminiscing about the past.

Chapter
18

Old Faces

It was
nearing night by the time Joe dropped Mod off.  He didn’t see Kate’s car in the
driveway so he opted to go straight home instead of stopping in.  The drive
home was quiet and would have been peaceful if not for Joe’s own nagging
thoughts.  He parked his car near the curb in front of his house and walked up
the sidewalk to his front door.  He fumbled around in his pockets for his keys
and thought he’d lost them until he remembered he’d had them in his hand the
whole time.

Joe: “I’m
such a dummy!”

His
parents must’ve left the air conditioning turned on, because it was much colder
inside the house than out.  Tonight was their dance night and Joe knew that
they’d be learning some foreign dances, but didn’t know which ones.

He
quickly pieced together a sandwich from the leftovers of the beef roast that his
mom had cooked yesterday.  He walked through the house chomping greedily.  He
was particularly hungry since he hadn’t bothered with lunch after all that had
happened with Mod.  He licked his fingers of the warm gravy while he walked
through the house.  He turned on the T.V. and watched some show that he
wouldn’t remember later.  He got on the computer and browsed the Internet for a
bit until he got bored, then he walked to his room, contemplated getting
another sandwich, and then realized his door was closed.  His mom must have
cleaned it.  She usually closed the door after she cleaned for whatever
reason.  Joe couldn’t think of a reason why she would clean it, since it was
already clean, thanks to her.

He opened
the door and two very familiar faces greeted him with smiles.  The small face
beamed with bright whites contrasted by dark skin.  The face with the blonde
hair sported a long crooked grin.  Both sat on his bed, waiting for him.

Joe:
“Melissa!  Dahlila!  I can’t believe it’s you!”

Melissa:
“You mean you can’t believe that we’re alive.”

Joe
smiled at the smart little girl.

Joe:
“Yeah, I guess.”

Dahlila:
“We could say the same about you.”

Melissa:
“And we did … a couple of times.”

They all
laughed.

Melissa:
“I’m glad we all made it back and safe.”

Joe had
so much to say.

Joe: “But
how — I mean, what happened?”

Dahlila
tapped on the bed, signaling for Joe to sit down.  Melissa scooted down and
made space for him between the two of them.

Dahlila:
“We’ll tell you that in a minute.  Right now, though, I have an important
request.  We need your help!”

Joe
nodded.  These two had kept him alive in the depths of the stadium.  He would
return the favor and help them no matter what.

Melissa:
“Thanks, Joe.  I knew you were a good person.”

She
smiled up at him.  How could he say no to that?

Dahlila:
“Thanks to you, our escape was easy.  Most of the security went your way at
first.  By the time most of them came after us, Melissa and I had already found
a nice quiet back way out.  I had to crack a few skulls but a lot less with
your distraction.  We’ve been on the run since that day, but we don’t have a
place to stay.”

Joe:
“Don’t worry, I’ll just call Borland, he’ll be glad to see you.  Wait here. 
I’ll go get the phone.”

Joe
started to get up, but Dahlila pushed him back down effortlessly with one arm.
Joe was confused.

Dahlila:
“That’s not necessary.”

Joe was
more confused.

Joe: “Why
not?  He told me that he knew you.  He wants to see you.  He worries about
you.”

Dahlila:
“I figured as much.  For you to be alive still, it had to be either him or the
super-spy helping you out.”

Joe:
“Super-spy?”

Dahlila:
“It’s just what I call the dark-haired lady. Your partner, I mean.  She’s
good.  I’ve seen her in action.  She was there the night they caught me.”

Beauty
, Joe guessed.

Dahlila:
“But the reason that I refuse Borland’s aid is simple.  If I go near him, he’s
dead.  He’s only alive because he doesn’t know what’s in that stadium.  They
want to keep him alive on the off chance that he finds us so that they can take
us all out.  We’re a danger to their operation.  Anyone close to us, including
Melissa’s remaining family, are being watched and can be used as leverage on
us.  He has his hands on their pulses.”

Joe: “Who
is ‘he?’”

Dahlila:
“Stevinn Blonsky, and he’s not the only one.  He’s just the dirtiest one.”

Joe:
“What about the gray-haired man at the stadium?”

Dahlila:
“I’m not sure, but he’s important too.  Borland would probably know who he is,
especially by now.”

Melissa:
“His name is Grabas, and he’s a bad man too.  He hurt a lot of people.”

Dahlila:
“He and Blonsky are perfect company then.”

This
puzzle was getting more and more complex by the day, and more dangerous. 
Blonsky was certainly a scary guy, and so was that gray-haired man.  Something about
his eyes had unsettled Joe.  If the man was anywhere near as nasty as Blonsky,
then Joe had much and more to fear.

Joe:
“Well, if not Borland’s, where will you stay?”

Dahlila:
“That’s why we’re here.  We were hoping you’d let us stay at your place.”

No no no
, Joe
thought.

Joe:
“Um…”

Dahlila:
“Not for long anyway, but until we can get Blonsky off of our backs.”

Joe: “And
how long do you think that would be?”

Dahlila:
“Not long.  I already have a plan to get him out of our lives.”

Joe
didn’t like the sound of that.  It was mainly how she said it.  Her words had
such finality in them.  He was more worried about housing them, however.  His
house wasn’t very big and there wasn’t really a way to hide them from his
parents.  He needed help, but from who?

Dahlila:
“And Borland can’t know that we were here.  He’ll try to take us in, regardless
of the danger.  I can’t have him doing that.”

Joe then
knew what to do.