“Okay,” Cynthia said. “Let’s get this out of the way.”
“You’re all business all right,” Cyndi mocked.
“Hey, hey,” Nic interfered.
Jiro pointed at them. “No fighting, remember?”
“I know, Old man,” Cyndi and Cynthia said at the same time. Then turned to each other and slapped one another high fives.
Nic and Jiro exchanged a look. Jiro smiled, knowing they’d achieved something while Nic just shrugged. They were at Cynthia’s shop. It was the weekends—Sunday to be exact—since they last talked to the guys about having second thoughts. Both girls had agreed to meet to talk things over—at last. The guys wanted to be there so they could witness the scene—and keep the girls from fighting.
Cynthia straightened up again. “Okay, here’s the deal…”
“When am I taking orders from you?” Cyndi demanded.
Jiro and Nic were about to interfere again, but Cynthia placed a hand up to stop them.
“Wrong choices of words then,” Cynthia admitted. She shook her head slightly. “You’re like Mom all right. Always pursues matters without giving up.”
“You’re like Dad, always wanting to get straight to the point,” Cyndi returned the favor.
Cynthia gestured her hand. “Fair enough.” She stopped for a bit—as if collecting her thoughts. “Let’s not waste anymore time. It seems like you and I need to join forces to find out something.”
“The reason why they broke up.”
Cyndi rolled her eyes. “Can’t stand each other, what else?”
“It’s not rocket science but that doesn’t tell us anything. We need to dig deeper. Why in the world would they hate each other so much but do not want to leave town?”
“Simple. Because they want to take revenge on each other.”
Cynthia shook her head, unconvinced. “They’re both hiding something from us. I meant the crucial reason.”
“Asking them is out.”
Cynthia had on the look like she was going to say “Duh” soon but resisted it. “That’s why we have to search for it ourselves.”
“Where should we begin then?”
“I have to know if you’re going to help or not.”
Cyndi mulled the idea in her mind. “I’m curious also. So why not? Since you’re offering.”
Cynthia snapped her fingers. “Good.” She was leaning back on the counter but straightened up once again. “Search their possessions first.”
“Invading their privacy?”
“Not exactly because we’ll be putting it back like how we found it.”
“Impossible,” Jiro jumped in.
“Problem?” Cynthia challenged.
“He’s right,” Cyndi interjected, attempting to defend her boyfriend. “No matter how we put it back the way it was supposed to be, they would know it’s been ransacked. We would know if they’ve done it.”
Cynthia snapped her fingers again. “I got a better idea.”
The other three turned to her.
“Put it back after we ransacked it but in front of them.”
“What?” That was Nic.
“Oh!” Cyndi yelled out.
“Go on,” Cynthia prompted.
“We search it thoroughly while they’re not home and put it back. When they’re home, pretend to be borrowing an item or something and search the room for it.”
Cynthia nodded. “Something like that. But I got another idea.”
“Huh?” It was Cyndi this time.
“Blame on the rats and push some books out of place. It gets Mom every time.” Her smile was cunning. Familiar even. It was like she’d done it often.
“Are you afraid of rats for real though?”
Cynthia maintained that same smile. “I act like I do.”
Cyndi had on her knowing smile. She placed her hands on the counter. “What’s after that?”
“What would you suggest then?”
“Ask all the people on their contact list to see if anyone knew what happened.”
“If they didn’t move away yet.”
“They must have kept in touch. At least some of them.”
The girls continued with their master plan in racking up the past while the guys watched in fascination. They were disaster separated—or combined. If anyone dared to mess with them, that person must not comprehend the simplest matters.
© Sunday, December 12th, 2010
Posted: Wednesday, February 2nd, 2011