Yes, that's right. I got into a slight accident with the car. I suppose you're wondering now how this could conquer our money problems. Well, in order to explain this, I'll tell you the story.
I left the house, feeling a need to get away for a little bit and clear my head. I had a few things on my mind. First, Mike's problem, and second, what Peter and Micky were hiding from me. So, I left the house and got into the car. I just drove around for awhile, thinking. Then I decided to go to the park and think. I was in the parking lot, about to turn into one of the parking spots, when two guys in a black car came down the lot at a relatively fast speed. Especially for a park. They must have seen me, because they slammed on the brakes at the last minute. I swerved, trying to get out of the way, but it was too late. The car rammed into me.
Luckily I wasn't hurt at all, just a tad shaken up, but the car still looked like a mess. The two guys in the car stepped out and came over to me. I suppose I overreacted, but at the time I was hopping mad, and when they came over to me, I began to yell.
"What did you think you were doing?" I yelled. "You could 'ave killed me. Your bloody car crashed into me."
One of the men (they looked the same to me) began to talk. I expected him to yell right back at me, but he didn't.
"I understand your concern, sir," he began, but I was so mad I didn't let him finish.
"You understand do you?" I asked. I looked at the other guy. "Do you 'ere that? 'E understands." I laughed, attempting to shake off some of the tension.
"'Ow could you understand. You've practically destroyed me car," I said.
"Listen sir, I know that this was our fault," one of the men said. "I'll pay the expenses of repairing your automobile if you agree to keep quiet over this." I looked at him skeptically. "And a hundred dollars a week for the rest of the year," he added. I opened my eyes wide.
"Alright," I agreed. "But why are you doing this?"
The other man spoke up. "You see, sir, my companion here isn't exactly a very good or safe driver." I rolled my eyes. That was news. "And he's had a few..uh..smash ups like this before." I nodded, understanding.
"I see. And if you 'ave another one, you'll be in big trouble, ey?" I asked, calming down a little bit. He nodded. "Alright then, you've got a deal," I said, and we shook hands.
So that's how the accident happened. A little while later, we called a tow truck, and they gave me a lift to the shop. While at the shop, I called Micky and Peter, and that's where we're brought up-to date. I headed home, a hundred dollars in my pocket, whistling happily. I was so cheerful that I decided I'd walk home. It was a nice day, after all. So I took my time getting home. It wasn't too long of a walk, only about a mile and a half, and I was so cheerful that I didn't mind. I reached home about two hours after I'd first left.
Only to notice that the rest of us weren't as happy. The tension in the air was thick as ice, and I didn't need any of my senses or 'gifts' to tell me that. Micky and Peter were in the kitchen, having an argument. I was a little surprised. Peter's not usually the type to get into an argument with anyone. But this was the second time in a day. I went into the kitchen to see what was going on.
"What do you mean I have to do the laundry?" Micky was asking. "The car's broken, and the laundromat's gotta be a mile away. Anyway, it's your turn."
"Because, since Mike's not here, I was supposed to do his job. But I didn't. Davy did. So I'm cooking lunch. And that means you've gotta take the laundry because YOU'RE the only one who hasn't done anything," Peter explained in a less than calm voice.
"Why do I gotta do it? Why can't you? Why can't it wait or something? The car's broke and I don't wanna walk, " Micky whined.
"'E's right, Mick," I said. Micky and Peter turned around. They'd been so absorbed that they hadn't noticed me enter the house or the room. Micky's glance of surprise turned into anger.
"Who asked you, shorty?" he grumbled, heading up the stairs to get the laundry. I thought about retorting, but decided against it. I just sighed. I took the hundred dollars out of my pocket and counted out the appropriate amount for the rent.
Just then, Micky came downstairs. The bag of laundry was thrown over his shoulder as he headed past Peter and I towards the door.
"Hey Peter, next time remember to do the job you're supposed to do and then we won't have any problem," he said. I sighed. Then I noticed something. I turned around and saw Peter's lower lip begin to quiver. He looked at the floor. I could tell he was starting to cry.
"MICKY! YOU GET BACK HERE NOW!" I yelled. He turned around. He was halfway out the door by then, and he turned around. I must have yelled loud, because he turned around and looked at me as though I was the president or something.
Peter, meanwhile, was sobbing. He sank to his knees, sobbing hard. "No, please," he said. "NO!" he yelled. "I wanna go home," he said. I knelt down next to him.
"Petah? What's the matter?" I asked. He looked at me.
"I don't know who you are, but I wanna go home. Please. I want to go home. I want to go home. I want to go home..." He trailed off, moaning, and began to sob again.
"See what you've done?" I asked Micky. "'E's really upset. " Micky looked shocked. He opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off. "No," I said shortly. "Apologies aren't going to 'elp now. Just 'elp me get 'im upstairs. Maybe e'll sleep it off." I grabbed one of Peter's arms, and Micky grabbed the other one. Peter was too out of it to even notice that we were there.
