Part 6 (1/2)
”He mentioned something about picking up T-s.h.i.+rts,” Shelby Lynn said.
”T-s.h.i.+rts?” I turned to Stan. ”What did you do? Sell advertising s.p.a.ce for the s.h.i.+rts on our backs?”
Stan slapped his forehead. ”d.a.m.n. Why didn't I think of that?”
”Greetings, fellow earthlings!”
Van Vleet crossed the courthouse lawn and headed in our direction.
”Holy s.h.i.+t. Would you look at that?” Stan said under his breath. ”Talk about your friggin' twinkies. I almost feel sorry for you, Turner.”
I could only stare. Drew Van Vleet wore what looked suspiciously like a Star Trek s.h.i.+rt.
”Captain Kirk, I presume,” I greeted Van Vleet. ”Nice, uh, top.”
”Glad you approve, Turner.”
I sensed yet another disturbance in the force. I know. Wrong outer s.p.a.ce show. But you get the point.
”I hope you're not suggesting that I-”
”I love it!” I felt a ham-fisted slap on my back. ”It's perfect!” Stan gushed.
”You've got to be kidding,” I said.
”What? You don't like Star Trek?” Van Vleet said.
”I don't like looking like a lame-oh in front of thousands of people.”
”But we'll stand out from the crowd,” Van Vleet insisted.
”Exactly my point. I prefer to ride below the radar.”
Stan chuckled. ”This coming from the person who finds bodies in car trunks and on boats, chases dunk tank clowns on the midway at state fairs, and nabs a campus crime spree perp with a zombie movie voice-over. Nice try, Turner, but no cigar.” He stuck his own cigar in his mouth.
”I have an image to uphold,” I tried again.
”Image? As what? Crime beat's Betty Boop?” Van Vleet sneered.
”At least I know a crime when I see one.”
”Not too hard when the crime involves you.”
”Your reporting should be a crime.”
”Now, now children. Let's not quarrel,” Stan put a hand on Van Vleet's shoulder. ”After all, you're stuck with each other for an entire week. You'll need to pull together as a team. Cooperate. Play nice.”
Stan Rodgers preaching on the benefits of working well with others almost made me forget the fas.h.i.+on disaster about to befall me.
Almost.
”But the s.h.i.+rt, Stan! The s.h.i.+rt!”
”Will be a big hit with the TribRide partic.i.p.ants and followers.”
”I didn't think this a.s.signment required your wardrobe approval,” I said.
”Nonetheless, I approve,” Stan grinned. ”I most definitely approve.”
I shook my head. ”Where's my friggin' T-s.h.i.+rt?” I asked.
Van Vleet tossed a plastic bag at me. I fished inside and pulled out the top. I held it up to my chest.
”Red! A red s.h.i.+rt! I'm wearing a red s.h.i.+rt? h.e.l.l, no!”
”What's the matter, Turner?” Stan asked.
”What's the matter? What's the matter? Have you watched an episode of Star Trek? Are you aware that the life expectancy of a Star Trek red s.h.i.+rt is roughly the same as that of the drone ant!”
”What are you talking about, Tressa?” Shelby Lynn said.
”I'm talking about the expendables. Star Trek expendables. Come on. Everyone knows when a red s.h.i.+rt transports down to an unknown planet, he isn't gonna beam back up alive-if he beams back up at all. No. h.e.l.l, no.” I thrust the offending garment at Van Vleet. ”You can wear the red s.h.i.+rt.”
”I can't,” Van Vleet said. ”Remember, I'm the captain. The captain wears gold. Not red.”
”What the h.e.l.l, Turner? Who gives a flying rip what color you wear?” Stan bellowed. ”Let's get this little photo shoot wrapped up so I can get back inside my air-conditioned office. It's hotter than the devil's underpants.”
”The devil wears underpants?” I said.
”Turner!”
”Okay, okay. I'll put the red s.h.i.+rt on for now. But I expect to take my turn at the helm wearing the gold s.h.i.+rt. Just so you know.”
Stan shook his head. ”Everyone's a prima donna.”
I pulled the red s.h.i.+rt on over my head and yanked it down over my tank top. I set the bike helmet on my head (this time correctly) and stomped to the bicycle. I started to get on the front seat.
Van Vleet motioned to the rear seat. ”Stroker, remember?”
I mumbled words that would have had me drummed out of Star Fleet and lowered my b.u.t.t to the back seat. Shelby Lynn's digital camera immortalized the moment.
I raised my eyes to the heavens.
Scotty! Anyone! For G.o.d's sake, beam me up!
CHAPTER SIX.