STARSCAPE BOOKS(19)

Flinch waited for the perfect moment, just long enough so his comeback still lingered in the air, and not so long that his next words would seem like an afterthought. “Sorry, man. I saw that coming.”

I saw that coming. It was quickly becoming his catch phrase. The sweet part was that he really had seen it coming. Heard it, too.

He picked up where he’d left off and finished the first joke of his routine. “As I was saying, I’m glad school’s out. I had to take the bus. That’s fine, except they use the same bus for the kindergarten kids. You know, there’s only one difference between a kindergarten bus seat and a cat litter box.” He paused a second, then hit them with the punch line. “The litter box is a lot dryer.”

That went over nicely. As the laughs faded, a woman in the second row took a shot at him.

Flinch destroyed her before the last word left her lips. The crowd loved it. Even the woman had to smile. That’s why she was there. That’s why they were all there. Not just to hear his comedy routine. They were here for the dazzling comebacks. He remembered reading about an old magic act where the guy caught a bullet in his teeth. People flocked to see him. Flinch knew they weren’t just coming to see the trick—they were coming because, just maybe, they’d see the magician get shot. Which, sadly, eventually happened. The guy died on stage. They won’t see me get shot, he thought. No way he’d die on stage. He’d already dodged the first two rounds and was feeling bulletproof.

“Sorry, lady,” he said to his latest victim. This time, he paused for slightly longer, allowing the audience to pick up on the phrase. They all joined him, shouting out the words, “I saw that coming.”

The whole crowd was into it, smiling like they were members of a special club. Flinch couldn’t help grinning, too. But he was grinning for another reason. Here he was, getting all this attention for doing the very same thing that had gotten his pal Martin in so much trouble.

Me and my smart mouth, Flinch thought. Of course, his cuts were meant to be funny. Martin’s were meant to hurt. But this was no time to think about his friends. Right now, he had to keep his mind on the crowd. A guy in the front row was rattling off an insult.

Loving every second of it, Flinch shot back and sliced him to ribbons.

I saw that coming.





martin engineers

an escape


THE FIRST THREE blocks he walked, Martin mostly thought about strangling his father. The fourth block, he had brief fantasies involving explosives and a chain saw. The next two blocks, he thought about their argument and wondered if he’d overreacted. The block after that, he almost turned back.

But the thought of his father’s mocking voice was enough to keep him moving. I knew you’d come crawling home. Martin couldn’t give him that kind of ammunition. At the very least, he needed to stay away for a couple days, just to prove he could survive on his own. He’d made some friends at school, but they weren’t around right now. His sister was working at a summer camp, but that was way up in Maine. If he wanted to avoid sleeping in the park, he had to go see one of his Edgeview friends.

Or I could go to Philly.

No, there was no reason to go there. It was odd he’d even thought of it. None of his friends lived in the city. His best bet was to visit Cheater. He was the closest—only about thirty miles away.

Good plan. But all his cash was back at the house, so he couldn’t take a bus.

Something will come up. Whatever else Martin could say about his life, it was never uninteresting. He walked into town. Nothing came up, so he walked through town.

One mile down, twenty-nine to go, he thought. But a block later, he spotted two guys loading boxes and bags into a beat-up old Tercel. He moved close enough to peer into their hidden places and make sure neither was deeply ashamed—or deeply proud—of being an axe murderer or pervert.

“Got any extra room?” he asked.

One of the guys nodded. “Where you going?”

Martin told him.

“We can take you part way,” the guy said.

“Good enough.” Martin slid into the back seat. The two guys got in front. Martin knew the driver was proud he was pulling a 4.0 grade average in a tough engineering program. On the other hand, he was ashamed that he was cheating on his girl friend.

“Heading to school?” Martin asked.

The driver nodded. “Yeah. We’re doing summer session at UD. We just came home for the day to get some stuff for the house we’re renting.”

“Delaware’s great,” Martin said. He took a deep breath, and convinced himself there was nothing sleazy about making them like him. That was the flip side of his talent. If he dug at someone’s deepest shames and failings, he made enemies. If he stroked their deepest prides, he made friends. “I’d love to go there for engineering.” It was a harmless lie. And there could even be a bit of truth in it—if he had a clue what engineering students studied.