Maxima!!

8:45 PM

Chase lay on his bed, legs crossed and hands behind his back. Though the night set in, he didn't feel a hint of weariness; the bobbing of his foot to some phantom solo made sure of that. But eventually, his phone whirred on his nightstand. He stuck out a hand to scrape it up and take a look. Brick sent the boy a message in a yellow box, offset by -- naturally -- a cartoon brick with googly eyes. Kira's A-OK, sport. She's over here with me and chilling out.

Chase nodded. OK. He sat on the bed's edge.

Wanna say anything to her? I'll pass it on.

Nope. Chase strapped on his bag as he started for the door. Going to bed. We'll talk tomorrow.

Gotcha. Nighty night.

He didn't check for a response. He set a hand on the doorknob -- and then pounded the door with his forehead. Locked. Somehow, Kira had found the time to slip back in and imprison him, if only to get a good return of investment on that lock. For a second, Chase thought about introducing it to his tool kit, but decided against it. The last time he tried, he wasted two hours and twenty hair pins. He headed for the window instead; thankfully he had access to the fire escape, so --

"Hold it right there, sonny."

Chase froze as he slid his window up. The building across the alley gave him a full view of Old Man Wilbur, who locked eyes with the boy as he reclined in his rocking chair. "Your mother had a feeling you'd sneak out." He picked up his cane and wagged it at Chase. "Why don't you stay in tonight? Get some shut-eye? Or, if it's fun you're after, let me tell you a story about the time I went to buy some potatoes from Mr. MacGregor. See, it was a particularly hot summer day back in nineteen lickety-two. My grandmother gave me a sack of quarters and sent me out, but what she forgot to mention was --"

Wilbur's rambling got little else but a blank stare out of Chase. Before long, the boy ducked back into his room, grabbed a bag of butterscotch candy, and tossed it into the old man's lap.

"What in the -- why, this here is my favorite kind of candy! How did you know?"

Chase stared him down. "There's more where that came from."

Wilbur stared right back.

"I was never here, right?"

"Yeah, I didn't see nothing."

***

9:03 PM

The fluorescent lights' humming couldn't distract Chase. He scooted up and down the convenience store's aisle as he gave each of its pastries a deep analysis. Donut Wheel, huh? He grabbed it for an even closer look. Might as well be a honey bun with a different name. With his bounty in tow, he slapped the pastry on the cashier's counter. "Ring me up, buddy."

The cashier followed the order, but gave Chase a sidelong glance. "You're up late, aren't you?" he asked as he took two dollars. "Shouldn't you be at home?"

"Yeah. But I've got family that's been down in the dumps lately. Nothing says 'cheer up' like a sugary treat, right?" Chase took the bun and stuffed it into his bag. "You're up late, too. Here for the graveyard shift?"

"Yeah."

"Yeesh. Maybe you're the one that needs a Donut Wheel."

"Yeah." The cashier started to slump, but perked up as Chase moved out. "But, uh, you really shouldn't be out here on your own."

"Don't sweat it." As he spoke, Chase aimed his phone at the building across the street. His targets made it right on time: a gel-haired slickster and a woman who wore enough makeup to double as a gas mask, both of whom laughed as they ducked inside a neon-lit diner. "Right. Heading out."