Here Comes Mr. Trouble

“I mean, get some air. I just need to get some air.” He stood up.

“What’s going on with you?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”

Wanting to avoid any more questions, he made a beeline for the front door.

It was 7:29 by the time he stepped onto Maggie’s front lawn and 7:30 on the dot when a beat-up black sedan pulled to the curb.

Mr. Trouble jumped out of the car and hustled over to the sidewalk. He was taller than Eric had assumed earlier, at least six feet, and looked like he was in pretty good shape. The only thing a little odd about him was his hair. Though it was cut short and neat on the sides, it was longer on top and flopped down over his forehead, stopping just short of his eyes.

“Good, you made it,” Mr. Trouble said. “Any problems?”

Eric glanced at the house, then shook his head. “No.”

A small dimple appeared on Mr. Trouble’s right cheek as he smiled. “Excellent. Excellent.”

“So…you said you could help me?”

“That we can.”

“I don’t understand how.”

Mr. Trouble shot a look down Maggie’s street. “Right. Okay. Here’s the deal. Slight change of plans. Hop in. I’ll drive.” He turned back to the car.

Eric didn’t move. “Whoa. Wait a minute. I can’t just get in your car and have you drive off. I thought we were going to talk here.”

“We will talk but that change-of-plan thing I just mentioned, that’s the not- meeting-here part. Now, come on, come on. We don’t have a lot of time.” He glanced once more down the street. “Oh, scratch that. We don’t have any time.”

Eric followed Mr. Trouble’s gaze, then his blood went cold. About a block away, Peter Garr and two of his large buddies were walking slowly down the sidewalk toward Maggie’s house.

“Friends of yours, I take it,” Mr. Trouble said.

“No. Not my friends. Never.”

“Well, that’s good, because I don’t think they care much for you, either.” Mr. Trouble opened the driver’s door and motioned to the other side. “Please, get in. Better to go before they actually get here.”

Eric had yet to move a muscle when Maggie called out from behind him, “Go where?”

As he glanced back at the house, Maggie stepped off the small front porch and onto the lawn.

“Nowhere,” he said.

“Somewhere,” Mr. Trouble said.

Seeming to notice Mr. Trouble for the first time, Maggie said, “Who are you?”

Mr. Trouble pointed at Eric. “I work for him. And I hate to say this, but they are getting closer.”

Maggie pressed her lips together in a frown. “What’s he talking about?”

Eric shrugged. “Well, um, you see, he…uh…he—”

“Unbelievable!” a girl’s voice exclaimed from inside the car.

As Eric and Maggie leaned down to look through the window, the back door flew open and a girl hopped out.

She was short like Maggie and had the same dark hair. But where Maggie’s skin was brown in tone, this girl’s was almost pale white, as if she never spent any time in the sun. As for her age, at first Eric thought she might be the same age as he and Maggie, but as she stepped onto the curb and put both her hands on her hips, he realized she was probably a few years older. There was something else about her, too. Something—

“Why are we still here?” she asked, looking over at Mr. Trouble. “Do you not see the surrogates coming down the street? You can’t possibly think they’d let us talk to him here, can you?”

“Get back in the car,” Mr. Trouble said. “I’ve got this.”

“You so don’t have this,” she said.

Mr. Trouble took a deep breath. “Fiona, just get in the car.”

Eric looked at the girl, surprised. “Fiona?”

The girl turned. “Yes?”

“You’re the—”

“—one you talked to on the phone yesterday,” Fiona finished for him. “Of course. How many Fionas do you think we have?”

“One is more than enough,” Mr. Trouble muttered.

Fiona took a step toward Eric. “My brother and I are here to talk to you about what we can do for you. But…” she pointed down the street toward Peter and his friends, “as we can all plainly see, we have some company on the way that would rather we didn’t. So if we’re going to talk, and I really think we should, we’re going to have to do it someplace else. That means you need to come with us.”

Maggie put a hand on Eric’s arm. “You can’t possibly be considering going anywhere with them! I’ve never seen these people before and I bet you haven’t, either.”

But he was doing more than consider; he’d decided he was going to get in the car with them. The moment he realized the girl was Fiona, he had a strong sense that she and this Mr. Trouble guy were really here to help him.

“How long will we be gone?” he asked.

“An hour. Hour and a half, max,” Fiona said, then glanced at her brother as if she was looking for his confirmation. But his attention was focused down the street.

“They’re, um, picking up their pace,” he said.

Eric, Maggie, and Fiona turned to look for themselves. Peter and the others weren’t slow-walking any more. With each step, they seemed to be gaining speed.

“Love to stay here and chat but we really should go now,” Mr. Trouble said.

Eric took a step toward the car, then stopped. “I need to get my backpack first.”

“Not enough time,” Mr. Trouble said.

“I’ll be quick.”

“Hold on. You’re not going to—”

“It’s fine,” Fiona said, cutting her brother off. “We’ll distract them.”

“Hey, I’m the one in charge here,” Mr. Trouble said.

“Go,” Fiona told Eric.

Eric spun around and ran toward the house, with Maggie following right behind.

“What are you thinking?” she asked. “You don’t even know them and you’re going to get in their car?”

He jumped onto the porch and pulled the door open. “They’re okay. I hired them. They’re…they’re here to help me.”

“Help you? Help you what?”

He hesitated a second, then shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Back inside, he went straight to the dinning room, shoved his stuff into his backpack, and pulled his bag over his shoulder. As he turned to leave, he found Maggie standing in his way.

“What if they kidnap you?” she whispered so that her parents, who were in the nearby living room watching TV, couldn’t hear.

“They’re not going to kidnap me.”

“How do you know?”

“I just know, okay?”

“Well, then…” She paused for a moment, thinking. “What about our report? It’s due tomorrow, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“I know, and I’m really sorry. I’ll talk to Mr. Walker and see if we can get an extension until Monday.” He tried to walk past her but she blocked him again.

“I don’t want an extension. I want to finish it now!”

“Honey, is everything all right?” Mrs. Ortega called out from the other room.

Maggie hesitated, then said, “Everything’s fine, Mom.”