Okay, taking all that into consideration, Garrick will stay... for now.
Let's see about adding some complications to his life, shall we?
Some people call me
crazy. Personally, I think it's kinda silly, because really, you
have to be at least a little crazy to get by in life and still keep
smiling. However at times I have to wonder about my sanity myself.
This was especially
true as I calmly reached over from the passenger seat in my truck and
turned the ignition to 'OFF'. Scrappy's engine immediately stopped
without even a sputter and the truck jerked to a halt in the fallow
field.
And then Mihoshi
bawled.
I sighed.
“Mihoshi, I'm not angry and you're not in trouble.”
Mihoshi's crying
stopped as quickly as Scrappy's engine had, only she hiccuped before
she asked, “You're not? I'm not?”
“No,” I said
mildly. “I only stopped the engine because you were going too
fast. We would have run out of room before you could react.”
“Oh. Okay,”
replied Mihoshi both mollified and mystified.
“Now, try not to
forget – the only thing we're doing here is getting you used to
working the clutch. Nothing more, nothing less.”
It had been a slow
process thus far, but I knew that going into it. And fortunately,
Murphy seemed content to let the whole thing slide. Though it might
be because I was doing this in as much of a controlled condition as I
could manage.
For one thing, we
were using one of the fields that Tenchi was letting go fallow for a
couple rotations, and at a time when the ground had enough wild grass
and not so much water that my truck would get stuck.
For another thing,
I was using the simple, step-by-step method my father taught me for
learning to drive a vehicle with a manual transmission. The first
step was just learning to get a feel for the clutch – where it
grabs, where it lets go... but most importantly, where that sweet
spot in between is for getting a car moving.
The second step was
where we were at at that moment. This was using the clutch and the
accelerator to get the vehicle moving, and then stopping. Just
starting and stopping in first gear. Nothing fancy at all.
“Now, put the
transmission into neutral gear.”
“Alright. Done.”
“Good. Clutch
in.”
“Clutch in.”
“Now start the
engine.”
“Starting!”
Mihoshi turned the key, and the engine turned over, catching swiftly.
“I did it!”
I smiled
encouragingly to her. “Good. Clutch still in?”
“Yes.”
“Shift the
transmission into first gear again.”
“Okay.”
“That's Reverse
gear Mihoshi. First is on the opposite end of the key.”
“Oh! Right!”
“Good. Now,
begin the exercise.”
And so it went.
Mihoshi would get Scrappy rolling, and then stop him nice and easy
like. By the time Tenchi came over with his tools, signifying the
end of the day, I had Mihoshi turning easy circles in the field.
“Hey Gar-kun,”
said Tenchi breezily as Mihoshi and I got out so we could all trade
places. “How did it go today?”
“It went great!”
I said happily. “Mihoshi's a good learner, but it's easy to
overwhelm her sometimes. If she and I take this just a little at a
time she'll be driving like a pro in no time.”
“So what will we
do tomorrow, Onii-chan?” asked Mihoshi as she got into the jumpseat
on the passenger side.”
“We'll keep
practicing starting and stopping and maybe we'll start on second
gear.”
“Yay!” cheered
Mihoshi.
Honestly, I wasn't
entirely clear on the legalities of the matter. In all essence, I
was an unlicensed instructor teaching someone else to drive an
automobile. In America, so long as you were on private land, you
could tell the law to shove it and exactly how far.
The Japanese tend
to be a little more strict in matters of public safety, but on the
other hand they also tend to let the private matters of families and
their close friends be. This stemming from the days when the local
law didn't get involved with the household affairs of a Samurai and
his allies. Let the man's superiors handle his conduct. I could
find it admirable in some ways, but at other times...
Best for me not to
dwell on that matter anyhow.
The whole point as
to make sure that Mihoshi was prepared for her formal driving
instruction. I'd told the others about what had gone on before –
how she had embarrassed the driving school and that Ryoko lost that
bet she made with Sasami-chan.
So, after two weeks
of instructing Mihoshi, she was driving my truck through the fields
like a rally racer.
“I think you're
ready,” I said with a smile as Tenchi approached with his tools.
“You really think
so!?” cried out Mihoshi gleefully.
“Yeah. Just keep
it slow and remember the difference between the tachometer and the
speedometer.”
“The tachometer
only indicates the speed of the engine's crankshaft.”
“That's a girl!”
I praised her, and Mihoshi glowed as she wiggled gleefully. “The
one thing you'll have to be careful about is the difference between
my vehicle and the rest of the vehicles made for use here in Japan.”
“The driver side
is on the left so all the controls are mirrored.”
“You got it. You
ready to take us back to the house?”
“I can?” she
asked, her eyes brightening.
“Absolutely. I'm
sure you can handle it fine. Just remember-”
“Slow and easy,”
Mihoshi finished for me.
“Outstanding.”
I then got out and looked to Tenchi as as he loaded his tools in
through the tailgate. “Ready?”
“Mihoshi's
driving back?” he asked cautiously.
“Yep. She's got
it all down pat.”
As Mihoshi drove us
back down to the house like she'd been doing it all her life, I never
suspected that it would lead to such an upheaval in my existence here
in Japan.
“Hello! This is
the Masaki Residence!” I heard Sasami-chan's voice chirping through
my open door. One thing I made sure of was that the acoustics in my
space were exceptional – voices carried clearly without echoing and
yet sharp noises would be muffled.
“Oh? You mean
Garrick? Hold on please.”
“Bwa?” I
muttered as I turned away from my current project – shopping for
computer parts online (Washu had to finagle me an internet connection
with a pirated satellite link since there was no DSL service here...
yet). The process was turning into a headache anyhow since stuff
that was fifteen years out of date by my perspective was selling for
top dollar. I poked my head out the doorway just as Sasami was
approaching.
“Nii-chan,
Someone from Mihoshi's driving school wants to talk to you.”
I blinked at that.
“Isn't that strange,” I murmured as I followed her down to the
phone by the front door.
“Hello!” I said
cheerfully once I picked up the handset. “This is Garrick
speaking.”
“My name is Obito
Mihara. Mr. Grimm, please pardon me, but do you know a young woman
by the name of Mihoshi Kuramitsu?”
“Ah yes, I do.
She is a good friend of mine. Almost like family.”
“I see, so that's
why she refers to you as her big brother. Mr. Grimm... Miss
Kuramitsu has been experiencing some... difficulties... here at our
driving school.” I sighed quietly at that. I guess there was just
no cheating fate sometimes. Before I could say anything he went on,
“She has been insisting that the only person that can teach her is
you, Mr. Grimm. For that reason, I would respectfully ask if you
could set aside some time to come visit us.”
Hoo boy. “Ah,
Mr. Mihara, if this is about my informal training of Miss Kuramitsu,
the I assure you that no laws were violated to my knowledge.”
“Please don't
worry about that Mr. Grimm. In all honesty, I am curious to see the
techniques that you employ in teaching such a case as Miss
Kuramitsu's.”
“Oh dear,” I
breathed as I could only imagine the chaos that Mihoshi was putting
all the other instructors through. “Well... in that case, would it
be alright if I made a demonstration at a time when no other drivers
are on your obstacle course?”
“I think we can
manage that. Why do you ask?”
“In a case like
Miss Kuramitsu's, its best of she is not overwhelmed. She can learn
to cope, but it requires time, patience, and a very gentle learning
curve.”
“I see your
point. In that case, would this Saturday morning be acceptable?”
“Perfectly Mr.
Mihara. It will be my pleasure.”
That Saturday,
Mihoshi and I showed up bright and early to meet Mr. Mihara. Much to
our surprise, a young girl jumped out of the car we had thought to be
Mr. Mihara's, only to be followed by the old man himself.
“Oh, she is
adorable!” I said softly.
Mihoshi giggled.
“She's about Sasami-chan's age.” Mihoshi then took on a saddened
cast as she said. “I hope I don't let her down.”
A man in a leather
jacket and a ski mask elbowed past me and I froze. What? Wait a
minute! Not this! I began to run, praying my feet would carry me
quickly enough.
The adorable girl
screamed.
I jumped.
“Don't-” said
the masked man, but my foot interrupted him. He flipped backwards,
his head cracking on the pavement. He was out like a lamp.
I righted myself
and turned to the girl. “Are you okay!?” I asked.
She never got the
chance to answer because I then heard the SUV's engine revving. I
saw it coming – straight for me and the girl.
Oh Goddess no!
If there is one
thing I can say that I honestly specialize in, it's taking a fall.
You could almost call me cat-like in that regard. And in some ways,
taking a hit is not much different in taking a fall.
I grabbed the tiny
girl up in my arms, turn my back to the SUV, jumped, and then prayed
to whoever was watching over me.
Pain burst like a
gasoline-filled water balloon to a match, starting in my hips and
going up through my spine, shoulders, neck, and then my head. I felt
myself roll across the SUV and I tightened my hold on the girl –
she was Sasami-chan's age and yet she was so tiny! - protecting her
face and keeping her arms pinned her her chest. I curled around her
as I rolled, keeping my weight off her. I rolled again – dimly I
realized it had no luggage rack and I was thankful for this.
Suddenly, the SUV
disappeared from under me and gravity pulled us back down. Pain came
once more as my left shoulder took the brunt of our weight on impact.
Oddly enough, the first thing I saw was the gun the masked man had
used. I recognized it as an M9 Barreta – military issue.
“Mihoshi!” I
called out, my voice twisted by the pain. “Shoot the tires!”
“Oh! Right!”
Mihoshi answered. And just like that she whipped her GP Standard
Issue Particle Projector Pistol and let loose. Interesting thing:
Mihoshi is a beautiful woman to look at – even when she's staring
down at you with all the righteous fury of a woman scorned. It is a
pity we don't get to see this side of her more often.
Of course, Mihoshi
being Mihoshi, she missed the tires completely. Instead she managed
to burn away the tie-down lines on a truck loaded with furniture –
a futon flopped over the SUV and the driver lost control, sending it
careening into the water on the other side of the embankment.
Seeing that it was
done, I flopped onto my back. Suddenly, the tiny weight on my chest
that I had forgotten about shifted. The little girl appeared in my
field of vision, her eyes worried with concern.
“Are you okay?”
she asked, horrified at how I appeared.
“No,” I croaked
honestly. I then smiled ruefully. “But I'll get better and live a
long life. What is important is that you're okay, my tiny little
bird.” I stole a quick glance to the side and say the masked man.
His body... didn't look right.
“YUKI!” cried
out the old man as he ran up to us. I was starting to hear sirens in
the distance.
“Grandpa!”
cried out the girl, Yuki I now knew, as she jumped up and hugged her
grandfather, no worse for wear. And then she began to tug him back
towards me. “He's hurt pretty bad grandpa.”
“Big Brother!”
cried out Mihoshi as she ran over.
I thought fast.
Mihoshi needed something to do, and I didn't want Yuki to see the
mangled body of her would-be kidnapper.
“Yuki, is that
your name?” I asked. The girl nodded. “I want you to do me a
favor. Put your head on my chest and listen to my heart. Tell me
how it sounds. Mihoshi?”
“Yes Big
Brother?”
“Go get the
jacket from that man with the mask – I may need to be kept warm.
Once you do that, call Washu-chan. She'll know what to do.”
“So, you are Mr.
Grimm,” said the Grandfather.
“At your
service,” I replied with a rueful smile. “I assume you are Mr.
Mihara?”
“Yes, I am
him...” He then looked down to his granddaughter and said, “How
does Mr. Grimm's heart sound, Yuki?”
Yuki yelped and
turned bright red. Uh-oh, I thought to myself, shooting a look to
Mr. Mihara. The old man simply smiled as though to say, 'Little
girls, they're all the same.'
“His heart sounds
kinda fast, but it's strong and steady.”
I smiled. “My
heart always runs a bit fast. I think I'll be just fine.”
“Here, Big
Brother,” called out Mihoshi as came over and began to drape the
jacket over me. “Washu-chan says she's on her way now.”
“Thanks Mihoshi,”
I said as I tried not to move – now that the adrenaline rush was
past I was really starting to ache. Thank you, Washu-chan – those
tweaks are working just as you prescribed.
And speaking of the
devil, Washu-chan came running over.
“GARRICK!” she
cried out. “How in the holy name of the Golden Ratio do you keep
winding up like this?” Yuki and Mr. Mihara backed away to let
Washu do her business, but little Yuki stayed close by. The police
were arriving and Mr. Mihara decided that, seeing as his daughter was
safe, it would be best to deal with the police for the moment. He
was, after all, a highly respected member of the community.
I aimed my rueful
smile at Washu-chan and said, “Sorry about this Washu-chan. I
guess I'm just a stupid American that can't keep his nose out of
other peoples' business.”
Washu snorted. “At
least you're honest. Let's see how bad you are.”
“Careful of the
left shoulder, I think I managed to dislocate it.”
I winced as Washu
probed it carefully. “Yeah, it is alright. Let's see what else is
wrong.” She popped up a discreet holographic screen that displayed
diagnostic information from some medical nanomachines that had been
left in my system for just this purpose. Yuki gazed in wide-eyed
shock, but I simply smiled and put my index finger to my lips.
“Shhhh.”
Yuki nodded
vigorously, smiling gleefully. I knew that look – this meant she
now had a Big Secret. I didn't mind. Sasami-chan could probably use
a friend that was not simply outside the weirdness at our home, but
also knew about it. This way she could really let her hair down, so
to speak.
“Well, you got
lots of bruises, some strained tendons and ligaments... but for the
most part it looks like your upgrades are doing their job. You'll be
sore for a day or two, but you should still be able to move around,
especially once we fix that shoulder of yours.”
“Uhm,
Washu-chan?”
“Yes Garrick?”
“You did design
these upgrades to be invisible to the medical technology of Earth,
right?”
“I did, why?”
“Because I see
paramedics coming my way, and knowing them they'll want to keep me
overnight at the very least.”
“Oh.”
The next few hours
were a whirlwind. Once the paramedics determined that my life was in
no danger they permitted the police to question me as they prepared
me to be transported to the hospital. I told them that I saw the man
with the mask on – noticed that he seemed to be vary suspicious and
that he was heading straight for Yuki Mihara. I then told them that
I had see the outline of the gun through his jacket – a little
white lie, but one that wouldn't hurt – and that I knew for certain
that he intended harm for that girl.
As for Mihoshi's
gun... well, Mr. Mihara is a very practical man. He simply claimed
that he saw no such weapon. Perhaps the load on that truck hadn't
been properly secured?
One last thing I
felt I had to do was to call specific attention to the gun: namely
it's military characteristics that I was intimately familiar with.
With that, the
police officers blinked, called up their headquarters, reported the
characteristics of the gun in question, got their answers, and then
bowed and thanked me for my hard work. And then they politely asked
that I try not to do anything so brash again.
However, for one of
the patrolmen this was not quite enough.
“Why do you
Americans have to meddle like this?” he growled, despite his
partner urging him to leave me be. I glared back at the man and then
pointed my nose to Yuki, who was talking and laughing with Mihoshi.
“You see that
little girl over there? I meddled because I was not about to let an
innocent child suffer at the hands of those honorless thugs.”
“You seriously
mean that you didn't do this for any sort of glory!?”
“Officer, I am in
PAIN here. You think I wanted to mess myself up just to gain
recognition? Hell, I didn't even think the driver would be so
cowardly as to try and run us all over with his truck. My only
concern was that innocent little girl.”
“Just don't do it
anymore,” grumbled the officer as he stalked off.
When I originally wrote this, I had Garrick grab the gun himself and empty the magazine to shoot out one of the tires on the kidnapper's SUV and cause him to loose control of the vehicle. However, I figured that was just a little too much yippee-kai-yay and, this being Japan, would land Garrick into all kinds of hot water that wouldn't be conducive to the plot. Better to have Mihoshi use her gun instead. No bullet casings to explain.
Let's see about adding some complications to his life, shall we?
Some people call me
crazy. Personally, I think it's kinda silly, because really, you
have to be at least a little crazy to get by in life and still keep
smiling. However at times I have to wonder about my sanity myself.
This was especially
true as I calmly reached over from the passenger seat in my truck and
turned the ignition to 'OFF'. Scrappy's engine immediately stopped
without even a sputter and the truck jerked to a halt in the fallow
field.
And then Mihoshi
bawled.
I sighed.
“Mihoshi, I'm not angry and you're not in trouble.”
Mihoshi's crying
stopped as quickly as Scrappy's engine had, only she hiccuped before
she asked, “You're not? I'm not?”
“No,” I said
mildly. “I only stopped the engine because you were going too
fast. We would have run out of room before you could react.”
“Oh. Okay,”
replied Mihoshi both mollified and mystified.
“Now, try not to
forget – the only thing we're doing here is getting you used to
working the clutch. Nothing more, nothing less.”
It had been a slow
process thus far, but I knew that going into it. And fortunately,
Murphy seemed content to let the whole thing slide. Though it might
be because I was doing this in as much of a controlled condition as I
could manage.
For one thing, we
were using one of the fields that Tenchi was letting go fallow for a
couple rotations, and at a time when the ground had enough wild grass
and not so much water that my truck would get stuck.
For another thing,
I was using the simple, step-by-step method my father taught me for
learning to drive a vehicle with a manual transmission. The first
step was just learning to get a feel for the clutch – where it
grabs, where it lets go... but most importantly, where that sweet
spot in between is for getting a car moving.
The second step was
where we were at at that moment. This was using the clutch and the
accelerator to get the vehicle moving, and then stopping. Just
starting and stopping in first gear. Nothing fancy at all.
“Now, put the
transmission into neutral gear.”
“Alright. Done.”
“Good. Clutch
in.”
“Clutch in.”
“Now start the
engine.”
“Starting!”
Mihoshi turned the key, and the engine turned over, catching swiftly.
“I did it!”
I smiled
encouragingly to her. “Good. Clutch still in?”
“Yes.”
“Shift the
transmission into first gear again.”
“Okay.”
“That's Reverse
gear Mihoshi. First is on the opposite end of the key.”
“Oh! Right!”
“Good. Now,
begin the exercise.”
And so it went.
Mihoshi would get Scrappy rolling, and then stop him nice and easy
like. By the time Tenchi came over with his tools, signifying the
end of the day, I had Mihoshi turning easy circles in the field.
“Hey Gar-kun,”
said Tenchi breezily as Mihoshi and I got out so we could all trade
places. “How did it go today?”
“It went great!”
I said happily. “Mihoshi's a good learner, but it's easy to
overwhelm her sometimes. If she and I take this just a little at a
time she'll be driving like a pro in no time.”
“So what will we
do tomorrow, Onii-chan?” asked Mihoshi as she got into the jumpseat
on the passenger side.”
“We'll keep
practicing starting and stopping and maybe we'll start on second
gear.”
“Yay!” cheered
Mihoshi.
Honestly, I wasn't
entirely clear on the legalities of the matter. In all essence, I
was an unlicensed instructor teaching someone else to drive an
automobile. In America, so long as you were on private land, you
could tell the law to shove it and exactly how far.
The Japanese tend
to be a little more strict in matters of public safety, but on the
other hand they also tend to let the private matters of families and
their close friends be. This stemming from the days when the local
law didn't get involved with the household affairs of a Samurai and
his allies. Let the man's superiors handle his conduct. I could
find it admirable in some ways, but at other times...
Best for me not to
dwell on that matter anyhow.
The whole point as
to make sure that Mihoshi was prepared for her formal driving
instruction. I'd told the others about what had gone on before –
how she had embarrassed the driving school and that Ryoko lost that
bet she made with Sasami-chan.
So, after two weeks
of instructing Mihoshi, she was driving my truck through the fields
like a rally racer.
“I think you're
ready,” I said with a smile as Tenchi approached with his tools.
“You really think
so!?” cried out Mihoshi gleefully.
“Yeah. Just keep
it slow and remember the difference between the tachometer and the
speedometer.”
“The tachometer
only indicates the speed of the engine's crankshaft.”
“That's a girl!”
I praised her, and Mihoshi glowed as she wiggled gleefully. “The
one thing you'll have to be careful about is the difference between
my vehicle and the rest of the vehicles made for use here in Japan.”
“The driver side
is on the left so all the controls are mirrored.”
“You got it. You
ready to take us back to the house?”
“I can?” she
asked, her eyes brightening.
“Absolutely. I'm
sure you can handle it fine. Just remember-”
“Slow and easy,”
Mihoshi finished for me.
“Outstanding.”
I then got out and looked to Tenchi as as he loaded his tools in
through the tailgate. “Ready?”
“Mihoshi's
driving back?” he asked cautiously.
“Yep. She's got
it all down pat.”
As Mihoshi drove us
back down to the house like she'd been doing it all her life, I never
suspected that it would lead to such an upheaval in my existence here
in Japan.
“Hello! This is
the Masaki Residence!” I heard Sasami-chan's voice chirping through
my open door. One thing I made sure of was that the acoustics in my
space were exceptional – voices carried clearly without echoing and
yet sharp noises would be muffled.
“Oh? You mean
Garrick? Hold on please.”
“Bwa?” I
muttered as I turned away from my current project – shopping for
computer parts online (Washu had to finagle me an internet connection
with a pirated satellite link since there was no DSL service here...
yet). The process was turning into a headache anyhow since stuff
that was fifteen years out of date by my perspective was selling for
top dollar. I poked my head out the doorway just as Sasami was
approaching.
“Nii-chan,
Someone from Mihoshi's driving school wants to talk to you.”
I blinked at that.
“Isn't that strange,” I murmured as I followed her down to the
phone by the front door.
“Hello!” I said
cheerfully once I picked up the handset. “This is Garrick
speaking.”
“My name is Obito
Mihara. Mr. Grimm, please pardon me, but do you know a young woman
by the name of Mihoshi Kuramitsu?”
“Ah yes, I do.
She is a good friend of mine. Almost like family.”
“I see, so that's
why she refers to you as her big brother. Mr. Grimm... Miss
Kuramitsu has been experiencing some... difficulties... here at our
driving school.” I sighed quietly at that. I guess there was just
no cheating fate sometimes. Before I could say anything he went on,
“She has been insisting that the only person that can teach her is
you, Mr. Grimm. For that reason, I would respectfully ask if you
could set aside some time to come visit us.”
Hoo boy. “Ah,
Mr. Mihara, if this is about my informal training of Miss Kuramitsu,
the I assure you that no laws were violated to my knowledge.”
“Please don't
worry about that Mr. Grimm. In all honesty, I am curious to see the
techniques that you employ in teaching such a case as Miss
Kuramitsu's.”
“Oh dear,” I
breathed as I could only imagine the chaos that Mihoshi was putting
all the other instructors through. “Well... in that case, would it
be alright if I made a demonstration at a time when no other drivers
are on your obstacle course?”
“I think we can
manage that. Why do you ask?”
“In a case like
Miss Kuramitsu's, its best of she is not overwhelmed. She can learn
to cope, but it requires time, patience, and a very gentle learning
curve.”
“I see your
point. In that case, would this Saturday morning be acceptable?”
“Perfectly Mr.
Mihara. It will be my pleasure.”
That Saturday,
Mihoshi and I showed up bright and early to meet Mr. Mihara. Much to
our surprise, a young girl jumped out of the car we had thought to be
Mr. Mihara's, only to be followed by the old man himself.
“Oh, she is
adorable!” I said softly.
Mihoshi giggled.
“She's about Sasami-chan's age.” Mihoshi then took on a saddened
cast as she said. “I hope I don't let her down.”
A man in a leather
jacket and a ski mask elbowed past me and I froze. What? Wait a
minute! Not this! I began to run, praying my feet would carry me
quickly enough.
The adorable girl
screamed.
I jumped.
“Don't-” said
the masked man, but my foot interrupted him. He flipped backwards,
his head cracking on the pavement. He was out like a lamp.
I righted myself
and turned to the girl. “Are you okay!?” I asked.
She never got the
chance to answer because I then heard the SUV's engine revving. I
saw it coming – straight for me and the girl.
Oh Goddess no!
If there is one
thing I can say that I honestly specialize in, it's taking a fall.
You could almost call me cat-like in that regard. And in some ways,
taking a hit is not much different in taking a fall.
I grabbed the tiny
girl up in my arms, turn my back to the SUV, jumped, and then prayed
to whoever was watching over me.
Pain burst like a
gasoline-filled water balloon to a match, starting in my hips and
going up through my spine, shoulders, neck, and then my head. I felt
myself roll across the SUV and I tightened my hold on the girl –
she was Sasami-chan's age and yet she was so tiny! - protecting her
face and keeping her arms pinned her her chest. I curled around her
as I rolled, keeping my weight off her. I rolled again – dimly I
realized it had no luggage rack and I was thankful for this.
Suddenly, the SUV
disappeared from under me and gravity pulled us back down. Pain came
once more as my left shoulder took the brunt of our weight on impact.
Oddly enough, the first thing I saw was the gun the masked man had
used. I recognized it as an M9 Barreta – military issue.
“Mihoshi!” I
called out, my voice twisted by the pain. “Shoot the tires!”
“Oh! Right!”
Mihoshi answered. And just like that she whipped her GP Standard
Issue Particle Projector Pistol and let loose. Interesting thing:
Mihoshi is a beautiful woman to look at – even when she's staring
down at you with all the righteous fury of a woman scorned. It is a
pity we don't get to see this side of her more often.
Of course, Mihoshi
being Mihoshi, she missed the tires completely. Instead she managed
to burn away the tie-down lines on a truck loaded with furniture –
a futon flopped over the SUV and the driver lost control, sending it
careening into the water on the other side of the embankment.
Seeing that it was
done, I flopped onto my back. Suddenly, the tiny weight on my chest
that I had forgotten about shifted. The little girl appeared in my
field of vision, her eyes worried with concern.
“Are you okay?”
she asked, horrified at how I appeared.
“No,” I croaked
honestly. I then smiled ruefully. “But I'll get better and live a
long life. What is important is that you're okay, my tiny little
bird.” I stole a quick glance to the side and say the masked man.
His body... didn't look right.
“YUKI!” cried
out the old man as he ran up to us. I was starting to hear sirens in
the distance.
“Grandpa!”
cried out the girl, Yuki I now knew, as she jumped up and hugged her
grandfather, no worse for wear. And then she began to tug him back
towards me. “He's hurt pretty bad grandpa.”
“Big Brother!”
cried out Mihoshi as she ran over.
I thought fast.
Mihoshi needed something to do, and I didn't want Yuki to see the
mangled body of her would-be kidnapper.
“Yuki, is that
your name?” I asked. The girl nodded. “I want you to do me a
favor. Put your head on my chest and listen to my heart. Tell me
how it sounds. Mihoshi?”
“Yes Big
Brother?”
“Go get the
jacket from that man with the mask – I may need to be kept warm.
Once you do that, call Washu-chan. She'll know what to do.”
“So, you are Mr.
Grimm,” said the Grandfather.
“At your
service,” I replied with a rueful smile. “I assume you are Mr.
Mihara?”
“Yes, I am
him...” He then looked down to his granddaughter and said, “How
does Mr. Grimm's heart sound, Yuki?”
Yuki yelped and
turned bright red. Uh-oh, I thought to myself, shooting a look to
Mr. Mihara. The old man simply smiled as though to say, 'Little
girls, they're all the same.'
“His heart sounds
kinda fast, but it's strong and steady.”
I smiled. “My
heart always runs a bit fast. I think I'll be just fine.”
“Here, Big
Brother,” called out Mihoshi as came over and began to drape the
jacket over me. “Washu-chan says she's on her way now.”
“Thanks Mihoshi,”
I said as I tried not to move – now that the adrenaline rush was
past I was really starting to ache. Thank you, Washu-chan – those
tweaks are working just as you prescribed.
And speaking of the
devil, Washu-chan came running over.
“GARRICK!” she
cried out. “How in the holy name of the Golden Ratio do you keep
winding up like this?” Yuki and Mr. Mihara backed away to let
Washu do her business, but little Yuki stayed close by. The police
were arriving and Mr. Mihara decided that, seeing as his daughter was
safe, it would be best to deal with the police for the moment. He
was, after all, a highly respected member of the community.
I aimed my rueful
smile at Washu-chan and said, “Sorry about this Washu-chan. I
guess I'm just a stupid American that can't keep his nose out of
other peoples' business.”
Washu snorted. “At
least you're honest. Let's see how bad you are.”
“Careful of the
left shoulder, I think I managed to dislocate it.”
I winced as Washu
probed it carefully. “Yeah, it is alright. Let's see what else is
wrong.” She popped up a discreet holographic screen that displayed
diagnostic information from some medical nanomachines that had been
left in my system for just this purpose. Yuki gazed in wide-eyed
shock, but I simply smiled and put my index finger to my lips.
“Shhhh.”
Yuki nodded
vigorously, smiling gleefully. I knew that look – this meant she
now had a Big Secret. I didn't mind. Sasami-chan could probably use
a friend that was not simply outside the weirdness at our home, but
also knew about it. This way she could really let her hair down, so
to speak.
“Well, you got
lots of bruises, some strained tendons and ligaments... but for the
most part it looks like your upgrades are doing their job. You'll be
sore for a day or two, but you should still be able to move around,
especially once we fix that shoulder of yours.”
“Uhm,
Washu-chan?”
“Yes Garrick?”
“You did design
these upgrades to be invisible to the medical technology of Earth,
right?”
“I did, why?”
“Because I see
paramedics coming my way, and knowing them they'll want to keep me
overnight at the very least.”
“Oh.”
The next few hours
were a whirlwind. Once the paramedics determined that my life was in
no danger they permitted the police to question me as they prepared
me to be transported to the hospital. I told them that I saw the man
with the mask on – noticed that he seemed to be vary suspicious and
that he was heading straight for Yuki Mihara. I then told them that
I had see the outline of the gun through his jacket – a little
white lie, but one that wouldn't hurt – and that I knew for certain
that he intended harm for that girl.
As for Mihoshi's
gun... well, Mr. Mihara is a very practical man. He simply claimed
that he saw no such weapon. Perhaps the load on that truck hadn't
been properly secured?
One last thing I
felt I had to do was to call specific attention to the gun: namely
it's military characteristics that I was intimately familiar with.
With that, the
police officers blinked, called up their headquarters, reported the
characteristics of the gun in question, got their answers, and then
bowed and thanked me for my hard work. And then they politely asked
that I try not to do anything so brash again.
However, for one of
the patrolmen this was not quite enough.
“Why do you
Americans have to meddle like this?” he growled, despite his
partner urging him to leave me be. I glared back at the man and then
pointed my nose to Yuki, who was talking and laughing with Mihoshi.
“You see that
little girl over there? I meddled because I was not about to let an
innocent child suffer at the hands of those honorless thugs.”
“You seriously
mean that you didn't do this for any sort of glory!?”
“Officer, I am in
PAIN here. You think I wanted to mess myself up just to gain
recognition? Hell, I didn't even think the driver would be so
cowardly as to try and run us all over with his truck. My only
concern was that innocent little girl.”
“Just don't do it
anymore,” grumbled the officer as he stalked off.
When I originally wrote this, I had Garrick grab the gun himself and empty the magazine to shoot out one of the tires on the kidnapper's SUV and cause him to loose control of the vehicle. However, I figured that was just a little too much yippee-kai-yay and, this being Japan, would land Garrick into all kinds of hot water that wouldn't be conducive to the plot. Better to have Mihoshi use her gun instead. No bullet casings to explain.