Chapter 75

“I’ve been here 10 years and had no idea.”

“Great ... you didn’t deny it ... have you met my auntie Surprise?” And she lightly touched my knee with two fingers.

“No ... is she anything like you?”

“If you were to make me 22 and Grandma Sultry 22 you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference... ‘cept I’m smarter.”

“Who cares about any old Russian ... I don’t. And I have a sudden urge to meet your Auntie.”

And he kissed me on my nose and tossed me high and caught me on the way down. I squealed like a four year old and headed for my kart and airplane. The cart ... Oh No ... I left it on ... it won’t start. Time for ‘womanly wiles.’

“My battery is dead ... my kart won’t go,” I batted my eyes and asked, nicely, “Would you carry my kart home in your pickup?”

“What makes you think I have a pickup?”

“You look like a small pickup kind of guy. Maybe a Mazda or a Toyota ... if it’s a Toyota it’s a four wheel drive.”

“See ... Toyota,” I said. “But ... a flatbed? That’s so cute.”

The pipe frame go-kart isn’t heavy ... if you take off the batteries ... which I can not do ... so I keep it plugged in to the Hobbico Charger.

I found the Hobbico on Ebay when I was looking for my next airplane. It does 12 volt and it has all sorts of alligator clips and jacks and plugins so I can plug in my plane and charge that battery while I charge the 12 volt deep cycle and the RC transmitter. I left it on and not plugged in to the house current ... so ... it’s dead.

Alan ... the spy ... picked the cart like it was nothing and I suppose, for an adult ... it was light. Although Surprise can’t do it.

With the right lever and a fulcrum I can change a tire on it. That left me huffing but I did it. ‘Righty tighty. Lefty Lucy.’

When Alan picked up the box with the remainder of the bombs I suggested he not throw it around. “That’s the explosives ... and they are homemade ... I wouldn’t throw it,” I said.

Yeah ... I know ... four year old little kid here. Five on Halloween. I wonder if there’s s local gathering? Trick or Treat? I might be smarter than the National Honor Society ... but I’m still a kid.

“Where do we need to go to meet with the mysterious Surprise?” Alan asked.

“She’s probably at the shop ... Gustafson’s.” I paused while I parsed what he said. “Why is she mysterious?”

“You said the two of you are just alike...” Alan said.

“I’m mysterious?”

“You’re four ... four year old kids Are mysterious. Surprise is going to be a surprise.”

“You think so?”

“If she proves to be as much of an adult as you seem to be ... yeah.”

She was at the shop ... something with wood ... and coffee.

“He followed me home ... Can I keep him?” And headed for the French Press coffeepot. Mom makes the best coffee ... with milk and sugar. Not a lot of sugar ... makes me hyper ... and I have enough hyper for three normal kids.

“Mom ... Alan, Alan ... Surprise Me Flintkote ... my surrogate mother.”