I'm not going to bore you about the details of my school life because school is usually boring and trust me, today was. All the juicy drama was happening outside the off-white wall of Belhurst high so I'd rather skip the otherwise standard school day and get to the good stuff.
Wait, Murphy was walking around like a zombie, Penn just kept giving me this suspicious look, and Mary kept asking about my mom. I'm pretty sure she knows something is going on with our parents and Penn is well aware Murphy and I are hiding something from him, not like we don't make it obvious. Now you're caught up.
Back at Murphy's home, the tailor had set up in one of the many guest rooms. Several attendees for the event had taken rooms in the guest wing, which was situated in the middle of the house so guests would be able to access the event space directly while avoiding the homeowners' spaces. The room we were using was one of the spares, an extra room kept open to accommodate any guests needing last minute lodgings. Most of the out of town guests were staying in one of Belhurst's high-end hotels but the lucky few were offered a much coveted room in the house.
Bruce Wayne turned Mr. Thompson's offer down, he said he'd just helicopter over the night of the party.
"Ouch!" I squeaked, casting my eyes down at the poor tailor at my feet.
Murphy still seemed a little freaked out about what happened so he sat in silence but I imagine he'd be covering his face and growing at my stupidity. Instead of being his usually snarky self, he simply stared out the window.
"For the last time, I haven't even started yet." I apologized, again. I feel like in movies people are always pricked by a needle so I keep tensing up as soon as the guy gets anywhere near me.
It's not even like a huge problem, the dress needs to be hemmed the slightest bit and it needs to be taken in a little bit but we ordered the dress a little big so it could be taken in. Honestly, I'm a little concerned it fits as well as it does.
I closed my eyes, "Do it now."
Taking a deep breath, I waited until he told me he was done to open my eyes. I figured if I couldn't see him working, then i'd stay still and he wouldn't end up poking me, thus confirming my fear of being pricked by a needle. It took me a few moments to gain the courage to actually open my eyes but I was pleasantly when I did.
I turned to Murphy, "Thoughts?"
"You look," He began half-heartedly until he got a good look at me. His eyes bugged out before breaking down in a grin, "You look amazing, green certainly is a good color on me."
"I know." I twirled around in the long green dress, "I was still pissed you made me get the green dress but I am feeling myself. I look hot."
Murphy, still grinning, joined me by the full length mirror, "Not as hot as me, and I'm not even dressed up."
He's such a jackass sometimes, "Would you just shut up and let me have my moment."
"You do look really nice though, I though nothing could top you in that gold dress but I was wrong." He pecked me quickly on the cheek, lingering so he could whisper in my ear, "I'm happy I was wrong."
But sometimes he's sweet.
Like sour patch kids. Sour. Sweet...
"And I'm gone." The tailor packed up his things, "I don't care what the two of you do, except you need to get out of that dress. Don't mess up those pins now, you near me." I slunk off to the partition and changed. "Leave the dress on the bed, I'll have someone pick it up later because I'm late. I need to rush to Mrs. Thompson's room like right now. She's probably waiting for me," He sighed, "This took far longer than it should have."
I heard the sound of the door closing just as I pulled on my pants. I popped out from behind the partition, heels in hand. Murphy seemed to be withdrawing back into his zombie state, I felt so bad that he was going through this.
Most people would jump if they got a chance to reconnect with their long-lost parent but Murphy has been hurt by his parents so many times. He's terrified to open himself up and get burned again. The Murphy of my early childhood struggled to connect with two parents who could care less about him so he closed himself off and eventually gave up.
Before I could offer some comforting word, my phone began buzzing like crazy. I pulled it out of my pocket and found Harry's name flashing. I knew it could only mean one thing.
"The mystery event." I whispered to myself.
Murphy looked me like I was absolutely crazy but I ignored him.
As soon as the phone clicked on, Harry's voice came through, "I got the call about tonight. Shckr is having her press conference. Six o'clock. Smack dab in the middle of the city."
"You mean Harrison Park?" I asked.
Murphy sidled over to me, "What's at Harrison Park?"
"That right. Please tell me you're free, I really need you to go. Everyone else at the office has already turned me down or I have them on another assignment so I'm desperate," He paused over the phone, choosing his words carefully, "Sorry, I didn't mean it like you were my last choice. You're in school so I hate to bother you when things pop up last minute because work is not your first priority, school is."
"It's fine, I'm free tonight so I can cover it."
"You are the best!" Harry said before the line cut off.
"So where exactly are we going?" Murphy asked.
"Harrison Park, Shckr is holding her press conference tonight."
"Should I bring my super suit?"
Harrison Park was filled with reporters when we arrived. Murphy had his mother's driver drop us off, anticipating the traffic and the lack of parking spots at this time of the day. The audience of reporters and photographers crowded around one small stage, lined with four seats and a single podium. There were a few people up there already, milling around. I spied the chief of police chatting with the head of the Department of Super-Normal Relations, who usually showed up at this sort of thing.
I walked around a little bit, trying to find a good angle as Murphy trailed wordlessly behind. Once I was happy with a spot, I took a few test shots. My camera was still set for the gym at my high school so I had a lot of adjusting to do, but I managed.
Shckr was late, of course, so Murphy and I chatted. It seemed to be doing him some good, distracting him from everything he had going on. He seemed a little more grounded than he had back home, though I can't say he was quite as quick as he usually is.
That in part is probably because he was keeping a look out for anything suspicious. I mean with an event like this, something is going to go down.
Shckr landed on the stage, twenty minutes late, looking as if she had stepped out of the salon. Just shy of the podium, she wasted no time getting to her point.
"You know who I am and you want to know why I'm here," I do like that she gets right to the point, "Well there's been a change of plans so I'll just say what I originally came here to say and move on. I'm retiring, even being a villain is too much work. Done with that.
"Second. Someone screwed up. Stromer is free and he is out for blood. He came to me and paid me a couple grand to read this weird ass poem, said something about someone not getting something and I honestly didn't listen at the time because I was counting the money so that's certainly not a direct quote. I read over it already and now I see that it's serious. Trust me, that is a hell of a lot coming from me. I have to say I'm genuinely worried. Oh well, here we go,
On a summer night's breeze,
You ripped a man from his family
To save the life of a pig.
Now, I'll make you watch the earth quake
And I'll make it rain your blood
So I can watch you squirm.
"That is all I have for you," She folded the little sheet with the poem up and put it in her pocket. How is it she has pockets in her suit and I can never find a pair of jeans with actual pockets? "Weird poem, I know but I am nothing but the messenger. Sorry to cut this whole press conference short, but it's not my problem anymore so I'm leaving. Bye."
As quickly as she came, Shckr left, leaving no time for questions or comments from the journalists in the crowd. The chief of police stepped forward and answered any and all of the questions he could. He seemed just about as confused as we all did, admitting she had confessed to him her original reason for the conference but she failed to tell him about Stromer.
Murphy and I shared a glance as we left the park. We both knew that the poem was about my mother and it only solidified the theory Stromer had something to do with it. It started to make a little bit more sense now that we knew there was some sort of connection between the two. Stromer knew where I lived so him targeting my home wasn't that far off.
I only hope my mother had made headway on narrowing everything down. Murphy had the good sense to record Shckr so he could send it to my mother.
I ducked into the car, waiting for Murphy to join me before saying, "To the batcave?"
"To the batcave."
~~~~~
Hey guys! This chapter kind of sucks but I've been working constantly the past week and I just wasn't feeling writing so I had to bang out this chapter like today. Not my best, but there were some elements that I liked.