Jake sat cross-legged on the couch, a little handheld console gripped tight in both hands. The screen glowed against his tired face, his thumbs moving fast as he mashed buttons. Balanced on the cushion beside him was a bowl of choco crunchies. Every few seconds, he leaned over without breaking eye contact with the game and shoved his face into the bowl, scooping up cereal like a Labrador at feeding time. Crumbs stuck to his chin, a few rolling down the front of his wrinkled T-shirt.
At the dining table, Charlie and Lisa watched in silence.
Lisa tilted her head, eyebrows arched. "Is he… eating like a dog?"
Charlie nodded slowly, eyes narrowed in disbelief. "Yep. He's gone full canine. That's not breakfast, that's survival mode."
Jake didn't even hear them since he was too locked into his game. The crunching echoed in the room, weirdly rhythmic against the little bleeps and bloops of the console.
Lily sat at the other end of the table with a stack of paper, tongue sticking out as she drew a big smiling sun and stick-figure people holding hands. Every now and then she glanced up, frowning at the sound of Jake's crunching, then went back to her crayons.
Lisa leaned closer to Charlie and whispered, "It's like watching an exotic animal in a zoo. He emptied a jumbo pack in less than an hour? Isn't that unhealthy? Do we… I don't know… intervene?"
Charlie took a sip of his coffee and smirked. "Nah. He'll be fine. Once he swallowed a bunch of nickels and look at him... Still fine. Though he shoots out one or two every now and then."
Lisa's left eye twitched a bit.
"You aren't kidding, right?"
"Nope."
Right then Jake let out a triumphant yell, mouth still half full of cereal. "Yes! Got him!" A few pieces of crunchies sprayed out like shrapnel, bouncing onto the carpet. He didn't notice. He just kept playing.
Charlie glanced at Lisa with a grin. "Told you. Natural habitat. Just don't tap the glass, it spooks him."
[A few minutes later]
Charlie finally leaned back in his chair with a sigh. "Unbelievable. Not even a text. Kid runs away in the middle of the night and they don't even notice. That tells me everything I need to know."
Lisa reached across the table and touched his hand. "So what now?"
Charlie looked from her to Jake, who was now licking sugar dust off the rim of the bowl while his console beeped loudly in victory.
He muttered, almost to himself, "Now… Let's wait for Irina to get out the court orders."
The front door creaked open and Berta walked in, hauling a grocery bag under one arm. She stopped dead in her tracks when her eyes landed on Jake, still glued to his console, face buried in the cereal bowl like it was a feeding trough.
Berta's lips curled into a smirk. "Well I'll be damned. The kid really ran away."
Charlie blinked. "Wait. What? How do you know about that?"
Berta walked to the kitchen, set the bag down on the counter and crossed her arms, a grin spreading across her face. "Because I saw Zippy running around the streets this morning like a headless chicken, yelling Jake's name. Poor bas... he was so frantic he ended up barging into a women's bathroom near the park. Next thing I know, cops are cuffing him and hauling his sorry butt away." She managed to hold back the words 'bastard' and 'ass' somehow due to Lily's presence.
Charlie's mouth dropped open. "You're kidding."
Lisa clapped a hand over her mouth as if she was disgusted. "He actually went into the women's bathroom?"
Berta nodded, chuckling to herself. "Yup. Said he thought Jake might've gone in there. Instead, he found a seventy-six-year-old granny minding her own business. She stormed out, swinging her handbag like Thor's hammer. She's already filed a lawsuit for harassment. Said it was the most excitement she's had since Nixon resigned."
Charlie slapped his forehead and groaned. "I'm not even surprised anymore."
Lisa was trying to hold her composure, but a snort slipped out. Lily looked up from her drawing with big eyes. "What happened?"
Berta leaned over, lowering her voice just enough. "Let's just say your Uncle Alan got caught where he didn't belong, Sunshine. Don't worry, the only thing he hurt was his dignity. What little he had left."
Jake finally pulled his face out of the cereal bowl, blinking like he was coming up for air. "Wait… Dad got arrested?"
Berta grinned at him. "Yup. This morning. Cops treated him like a discount piñata, only thing missing was the candy."
"Oh, I see." Jake went back to his video game.
Charlie sighed. "Well, I guess that solves the mystery of why Alan hasn't called yet."
Berta cackled, shaking her head. "Oh, he'll call. Right after he needs bail money because Judith's probably too busy doing yoga stretches with Mister Downward Dog to notice her son's missing. Which, spoiler alert, means he's gonna beg you again, Charlie. Better get your 'no' warmed up, because you're about to use it a lot."
...
[Meanwhile… Malibu Jail]
Alan gripped the bars of the holding cell so tightly his knuckles looked like they'd explode. His shirt was rumpled, his hair stood up in clumps, and his face was the very picture of sweaty panic.
"This is a mistake!" he shouted down the hall. "I wasn't doing anything! I was just looking for my son! I didn't even see anything, I swear! Someone tell them I didn't see anything!"
The cop at the desk rolled his eyes. "Yeah, buddy, that's what they all say."
Alan spun around, flailing his arms like a broken windmill. "No, you don't understand! I really wasn't harassing her. I thought Jake was in the bathroom, and—"
He froze when he heard a fake cough from behind.
Behind him, two enormous bald guys sat side by side on the bench. They came in not too long before Alan. They looked like twin refrigerators with legs. One had tattoos running up both arms, the other had a gold tooth that gleamed under the fluorescent lights.
Alan laughed nervously, turning back toward the bars. "O-okay, I'll just… stay right here. No need to talk. Just, uh, three fellas enjoying a quiet Saturday morning in jail. Totally normal."
The two men stood up in unison. Their boots echoed on the concrete floor as they stepped closer. Alan pressed himself against the bars like he was trying to phase through them.
One of them cracked his knuckles. "So… we heard what you're in for."
Alan looked up nervously, his voice shaking. "Y-you did?"
The second guy leaned down, grinning widely. "Word is, you chased yourself into the ladies' bathroom. Chasing after a granny."
Alan's eyes went wide. "W-what? No! I don't— I mean, not that there's anything wrong with— but no!"
Before he could finish, the first guy reached down and gave Alan's butt a sharp smack. The sound echoed through the cell like a gunshot.
The guy chuckled. "So you like 'em vintage, huh? Respect. Most guys go for fresh fruit. You? You go straight to the raisins."
Alan shot up like he'd been electrocuted, clutching his backside with both hands. "Ow! No! That's not what happened! Please, just leave me alone!"
The second bald guy leaned in so close that Alan could smell the rotten scent of god knows what. "Don't be shy. We don't judge. Some men like brunettes, some like blondes. You? You like early-bird specials and bingo nights."
Alan pressed himself against the wall, shaking his head wildly. "No! I swear, it was a mistake!"
The first guy winked at the other. "Relax. We're just getting to know our new roommate."
Alan whimpered, sliding further along the bench like he could melt into the concrete. "I want my lawyer."
From outside the cell, the officer called without looking up from his magazine. "Oh, don't worry. Granny already has one. On our way, we heard her saying that she's suing you for emotional trauma and… get this… loss of bowel control."
Alan's jaw dropped. "She what?!"
Both bald men burst out laughing so hard they slapped each other on the shoulders. One pointed at Alan while catching his breath. "Oh man, you're gonna be our entertainment all week. You just sit there and keep looking pretty. Don't worry, we'll protect you… long as you tell us bedtime stories about your girlfriends at the retirement home."
One of the guards walked past the cell.
Alan ran toward the bars and yelled frantically. "Help! Officer! They're looking at me funny!"
The guard shrugged. "That's jail, buddy. Get used to it."
Alan turned back slowly. The two men loomed over him, cracking their knuckles, smiling like cats with a trapped mouse. He whimpered, sliding down to the floor, curling into himself. "Oh God… Charlie was right. I am walking into traffic over and over again."
The bald guy patted his shoulder with a heavy hand that nearly knocked him flat. "Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll teach you how to cross the street."
Alan let out the loudest groan of despair Malibu Jail had ever heard.
---
[POWERSTONES AND REVIEWS PLS]
Support link: www.patr eon.com/UnknownMaster
[5 advance chs] [All chs available for all tiers] [No double billing.]
---