Peter reached the house at around 12:30. He'd run all the way home. This was all despite his better judgment. He wasn't sure if Mike or Micky or I were coming also, but he took my advice and ran home. The first thing he did when he got home was to go into the kitchen and find something edible to eat. He found some bread and cheese, and began to make a sandwich. While doing this, he heard the front door open.
"Davy?" he heard Mike yell. "Peter? Micky? Anybody here?"
Peter entered the room holding his sandwich. "I'm here, Mike," he said. Mike turned around. A huge grin appeared on his face.
"Are you okay Pete?" he asked. "What did they do to you?"
"I'm okay," Peter said. "Just a little hungry. " He held up the sandwich as proof of this.
"But where's Davy? And Micky?" he asked. Just then, Peter got his first good look at Mike, as he took of his hat to scratch his head.
"Mike?" he asked. "Why do you have egg all over you?" Mike reached up and touched his head.
"Darn," he said. "I thought I got that all out. Now I'll have to wash my hair. " Peter continued to look at him.
"But how'd it get there, Mike?" he asked.
"Well, it's a long story. See, Pete, our plan to get you out was for me to create a distraction while Davy rescued y'all. So, I stood outside in the blazing hot sun for two hours and I couldn't distract a fly. Then, one of the Russian guys walked down the street and tripped over my ice-cream cone..."
"Ice cream cone?" Peter interrupted.
"Yeah. Davy got us a couple and suggested we give up. I told him that I didn't want to and to show how I felt I threw the ice-cream on the ground. Anyway, the Russian guy came over, tripped on the ice-cream and his bag of groceries went up in the air." He moved his arm over his head to show this. "I turned around and -plop- down came the box of eggs on my head. So, of course, I tried to distract a few more people by yelling at the guy. And he yelled back, and the other Russians came over and joined in, and the next thing I knew, I was in a yelling argument. Over eggs!" He threw his arms in the air as to show his frustration with the situation. Peter just looked at him, mystified.
"There was so much egg all over my hair that my mother wouldn't have recognized me. So of course they didn't. They offered me a few towels and took me to their place."
Peter's eyes widened at this. "They took you there?" he asked.
"Yeah. The same place where you were, Pete. They tried to clean me up, but I was a mess. I thought I got most of it out, but I figured I should go home and clean the rest out, anyway. Luckily I wasn't wearing my hat at the time," he added, looking down at his green hat thankfully, obviously glad he wouldn't have to worry about having egg all over it. "Now, tell me, what about you? Davy got you out, I guess?"
"Yep," Peter said, happily. By this time he'd finished his sandwich, and went to the refrigerator to get a drink. While doing this explained to Mike how I'd run down the stairs and let him out of the cage. "Then he told me to go home as fast as I could and he'd try to get Micky. I didn't want to, but I did. Did you see them?" he asked Mike.
"No," he said. "I haven't seen Davy since before I had egg in my hair. Well, I guess we should assume that they're either okay or they were found out. Either way, let's give Davy a few hours. Don't give up yet pal. " He ran his hand through his hair. "Meanwhile, I'm going to see if I can get the rest of this darn egg out of my hair. Eck." He made an odd look to show his disgust and headed up the stairs to wash his hair.
"All right, shorty what's your name?" a voice in the darkness asked me. It was a male voice, and he had a very heavy Russian accent.
"Hey, I'm not that short!" I yelled, after I deciphered his words. For a moment I thought that Micky was pulling an elaborate plot. But I quickly shoved that idea out of my mind when I remembered how worried he'd been about Peter and Mike. But still....
"Hah," the guy said, jolting me back to reality. "Anyway, what's your name?" he asked again. I decided, for some reason or another, not to answer. "Aah, another one of them," he said.
Another voice on the darkness said something. "The other one said that the weird one's name is Micky, boss," it said.
"Micky?" the guy asked. "Sounds too Disneyish. Oh well, doesn't matter, now. "
I felt a chill run down my spine. "What did you guys do to Micky?" I asked.
The overhead lights flashed on all the way, and the guy in the pinstripe suit shoved his face closed to mine. I could see now that I was in the same cage that I'd rescued Peter from. The man was middle aged and balding. What little hair he had now was gray. "Aah, so silent boy talks, huh? Well, maybe I shouldn't tell you. "
"Please," I said. " What did you do to him?"
"Tell me your name," the guy demanded.
"Why?" I asked.
"I said to."
"If I do, will you tell me what you've done to Micky?"
"I might."
"What do you need my name for, anyway?"
"So I'll know what to put on your tombstone, " he said, an evil, mischievous grin appearing on his face. "You're liable to end up there, kid. You have made me very angry, stealing our prize specimen. I'd advise you not to make me any angrier."
"Specimen?" I asked. "You mean Peter?"
"Exactly. Now, unless you would like to be in a lot more trouble, you'll tell us your name. "
I pondered over this for awhile. I wasn't sure why I hadn't wanted to tell them my name. But would it be a good idea? I continued to ponder this. They continued to stare at me, awaiting my response. I sighed and decided to tell them my name. What would it matter, I thought, if they knew my name? I sighed again and told them.
"Now that's a smart boy," he said.
"Now will you tell me what you've done to Micky?" I asked. "You said you would."
"No," he said. "I said I might. I've changed my mind."
"What?" I asked. "Please. Tell me what you've done with him. Please." I gripped the bars in anguish and gave them a pleading look.
"Sorry," he said. " I can't." Then, the two blond guys came over to the cage. I backed away from the bars, afraid. Then, they opened the cage. One of them reached in and grabbed my arm. He yanked me out of the cage, and I felt the other guy grab my other arm, too. One of them shoved a cloth over my eyes , and I couldn't see.
"What? Where are you taking me?" I asked. Despite all of my struggling, I was dragged somewhere. Then, my feet stopped. I heard some clanking and other noises.
"Here's your friend, kid," a voice said. I was shoved forward, face first, and found myself lying down face first in the dirt. I picked myself up, hearing a door slam, and coughed a few time. The dirt hadn't gotten in my eyes, thanks to the cloth over my face, but it had gone down my throat and nose. I coughed and sneezed for a few moments. Then, I felt someone's hands behind my head, untying the cloth. It was released, and I got a good view of my surroundings for the first time. I was in a dimly lit room with a heavy wooden door. The floor was dirt. Near one of the walls was a cot. There were no windows. I had the dismal feeling that I was going to be there for awhile. I finally stopped coughing and turned around. Micky was sitting there, looking at me. I looked back at him, and blinked, to make sure my eyes weren't deceiving me.
"Micky?" I asked. "Are you okay?"
