Savannah Tour: Chapter 11

Sasha, June 4th, 11:34AM

I looked around. “Officer, should we go with you to the car repair?”

“Yes,” he said gruffly. “Get in my car.”

A tow truck materialized out of the fog on the highway. Rain started pouring down on us and I pulled Delta into the car with me.

The tow truck chained the car to it after a few minutes and drove away.

“Alright, we’re all ready, let’s go,” the officer said. He started driving down the highway at alarming speeds.

I leaned closer to Delta as we sat looking at the window in pure silence. “Delta. This is awkward with the tourist here also sitting right next to us. How long is this going to take?” I whispered.

“Be quiet!” the tourist grumbled.

“Uh, a few hours, I think,” Delta whispered back, ignoring the tourist.

“Aw man. Hey, could we rent a car? How much money do we have?”

“Like... ten dollars,” Delta replied briskly. “Not a lot.”

“I have an idea. Hey officer! Could we get a job at the police station? We are so amazing, great, and... astonishingly awesome!”

“I mean... you could clean up the trash in the station,” the officer said. “We’ll pay you 50 dollars.”

“And how much does the rent cost?” I asked Delta.

She turned on her phone and checked. “99.99 dollars for one day.”

“Nope. I need you to pay us more. What if we caught a dangerous and murderous criminal?”

“You’re too young. Besides, one of the officers might tip you. If you clean up all of it, maybe we can cover the expenses of the rent.”

“I’m young? I’m like 50 million years old! And you are like, acting like the second you came out.”

“Theoretically speaking,” Delta interjected, “that isn’t exactly possible, considering that the life expectancy rate is just a little less than 50 million years behind that.”

“Really, then how old are the dinosaurs right now?”

“They’re all dead, so they don’t count. I mean, you’re not talking about birds, right?” She shook her head. “You’re 17, not 50 million years old.”

“Delta! Are you defending me or what!”

“We’ll take the job,” she said to the officer.

“Sure. You could start tomorrow-” he said, but a sound cut him off.

We heard loud snoring. When we turned our heads, we caught the tourist snoring.

“Wow.” I said. Delta folded her arms across her chest and glared at him. Then she looked at the officer.

“We need that job. Now.”

“What’s so urgent? To get the job, I need to contact my boss, and he might respond in a few days or weeks.”

“No! We must wait for weeks to get that job!? The car repairer is faster than that when he is mending an airplane that crashed under the ocean! I think...?” I turned to Delta. “Now what should we do? Since Mr. Ortega is at the airport, he must have gotten a trip somewhere and never come back! We might be too late. It’s urgent. He’s, our father! We need to go, NOW!”

“Fine! I’ll ask him why he’s at the airport!” Delta replied. She whipped out her phone and, in a quick succession, tapped a few buttons, and turned off her phone. The phone kept ringing.

“Did he respond?” I asked.

“Nope,” she answered. “I mean, not yet.”

Mr. Ortega answered, and the ringing stopped. “Our flight is in 20 minutes! Hurry up! Come!”

“What? What flight? Why are you there?” Delta asked.

“I’ll tell you later. Oh no. He’s here! I need to go. NOW!” Then he hung up, and Delta shared a look with me, puzzled.

“Well...” she said, putting her phone down. “Officer, how many minutes from the car repair?”

The officer tapped a screen and it glowed, showing the arrival time. “5.” He slowed down and parked in a parking lot. “This guy’s getting arrested.”

“The airport is 10 minutes away. We’ll just have to find Mr. Ortega. It’s fine... it’s not a huge airport, anyway...,” Delta said quietly once the officer left.

“But... what if we’re late? You have to ask where, exactly, in the airport!”

“I’ll text him,” she promised, turning on her phone.

“Thanks!”

A few minutes later, the officer came back. “The car repair hasn’t repaired it just yet, so we’ll have to wait for a few minutes when we arrive, if that’s okay.” He slammed his foot down on the gas pedal, and we were on our way to the car repair.

Around 5 minutes later, we arrived at the car repair. The car was finally repaired! I opened the door and went in quickly. Delta started backing up and I waved to the officer. “Thank you!”

The officer dipped his head and went back to his car.

“So... how many minutes until we get to the airport?” I asked.

“10,” Delta said. “We’ll be there right on time – or, I mean, 2 minutes early or so.”

“Okay. Wait, what was Mr. Ortega talking about in the call? Who is he? Maybe his brother? Or school bully?”

“School bully?” Delta echoed. “Um... I think his brother... and he said *our* flight... is he with his brother?”

“Maybe... Where do you think they're going? Don’t say, “I don’t know!” Guess!”

“Are they...” Delta gasped. “Retiring?”

“No! What if we get a new boss that is mean, annoying, and has breath that smells like cat pee mixed with sweaty socks?!”

“Um...I don’t actually know if he’s retiring,” Delta said. “I need to text him that we’re missing his flight.”

“How will he react? If he is retiring, and he’s obviously going somewhere forever, why is he at an airport? We need to see him one last time! May I remind you that he’s... our father! He was also a good boss part of the time! I need to see him once more!”

I leaned over to see what Delta texted. She had typed ‘We’re not arriving there. Can you call us? And why are you at the airport?’ Mr. Ortega called us and said, ‘I’m retiring with my brother. You and Sasha have been selected as the new managers.’

“What?” Delta exclaimed. “I didn’t agree to...”

He hung up.

“Delta, what do we do...?”

“I... we’re going back to the resort. *Now*.”