The Universe's Mixer

Gert hadn't been to school since she'd run away from home back in Los Angeles. She didn't feel like she was missing anything; she was well read and she'd been in advanced classes. If she wanted to know something, surely she could teach herself. She knew how to use a library.

The City, it seemed, had other ideas. First, a truancy officer had come to her door, demanding to know why she'd been skipping class. They'd had words; Gert had told him exactly what she'd thought of the educational system in general (it encourages complacency and conformity; if I wanted to abdicate my ability to think, I'd watch more television) and, when that hadn't worked, she'd gotten Old Lace involved. The dinosaur was slightly more persuasive than anything she'd said, and the man quickly left after the Deinonychus had peeked around her shoulder and started growling.

So now, the 'go to class' message had gotten a little more unavoidable. She went to the corner store for some toothpaste and found herself facing the City Institute instead. A trip to the park took an extra turn or two, and yep: the Institute loomed ahead. She got onto the bus in an attempt to go home, waited the right number of stops, and then got off to see - you guessed it - the City Institute.

All roads led to high school. Gertrude was beginning to think she might possibly be in hell.

She'd finally managed to go in a direction that didn't seem to lead towards the school. Of course, she reflected, it could be a trick: the City might be letting her get a few blocks away, only to trick her and throw the hateful building at her when she least expected it. When she reached a corner, she slowed down and leaned forward to peek. Old Lace stopped a few steps back, and Gert motioned the creature towards the wall. With all the sneaking around, it was like some ridiculous spy movie. Gert was starting to get a little irritated.

Jeannie had been thoroughly disappointed by her visit to the Magic Box. The Willow Witch was not there and the lady to whom she spoke did not know where she had gone or when she would be back. Nor had she, herself, heard of Spike. That was very depressing for the djinn, as she was quite fond of him. He was so very sweet.

Standing on the street corner after leaving the shop, she chewed her lower lip and watched the street light for a few minutes, hoping that her master would give her a sign. But the City was somewhat silent, telling her only that she could now walk. So that was what she did, crossing the street, but once on the opposite side, she paused again.

Looking down, she unsnapped her purse and looked inside. There really was no other recourse. She had no one else to talk to. She knew only a handful of people in this place, and one of them was currently missing. Besides, now that the rude leprechaun was in a size more appropriate to his actual importance, he was far less irritating. And he might possibly be beginning to grow on her. Who knew. Someday, she might feel bad enough for turning him into a Chihuahua that she would return him to his previous form. Not any time soon, but someday. Perhaps.

“I do not know what else to do,” she confessed to him. “I have looked everywhere I know to look, and I cannot blink to where he is. I have tried that. Nothing happens. I find that very worrying, do you not? That my blink does not work in locating my friend? I do not think that should happen. What if something has happened to him? Oh dear.”

Jeannie sighed and looked up, glancing around as though Spike might suddenly appear, simply because she had been speaking of him. But he did not, and she could only repeat, “Oh dear.”

They'd been moving along down the sidewalk for a while now, at least an hour since they'd met, with Tabs doing most of the talking and Dick concentrating on their surroundings and the creation of a mental map which would soon prove completely useless. The girl had a voice best equated with a brook, and it poured on cheerfully until Dick interrupted (gently) with: "Hey, I gotta take a break. My arms are killing me." With a last swinging step on the crutches he came to a stop on the sidewalk, shuffling a little on one foot to get the damn things out from under his arms and rolling thick shoulders to get the kinks out of his muscles.

He looked around. "What are the chances we find something to eat around here?" The backpack he wore might have a pack of squashed M&Ms--if they were lucky. If they weren't lucky it would just have his costume and escrima, which weren't going to help the lunch problem unless someone came along that Dick could beat food out of.