Given that Sheldon obviously hadn't informed his parents, especially his very religious and proo-worry mother, after getting Sheldon's house number, I called the Cooper household from the ic book store phone.

  "Hello?" After the ph a few times, Missy answered, intrigued but cheerfully.

  "Hey Missy," I greeted the girl.

  "Oh, PJ!" Missy cheerfully excimed upnizing my voice. "You know, my friend Linda and I often talk on the phone like this, you and I should do it more often. The other day, I heard from my friend Linda that-" Without pausing to breathe, the cheerful girl started chattering away.

  "Are your parents or Meemaw there? I o talk to them about Sheldon," I quickly interrupted her lively chat.

  "Oh, did you know Sheldon is missing? Apparently, he escaped from the shrink. Don't tell anyone I know he went to the shrink; we're supposed to say he went to the barber, and we o tell him he has a great haircut. But now, Mom is freaking out in the living room; we're all waiting for the police. This is going to be a great story for school!" Missy joyfully and even faster than a little girl's lungs should allow, seemingly fetting my question.

  "Missy, who are you talking to, young dy?" Mrs. Cooper suddenly asked, obviously ed.

  "It's PJ," Missy nontly replied to her mother.

  "Give me that." From the other side of the phone, I could hear the device ging hands, followed by what seemed to be murmurs of an annoyed little girl.

  "Hello PJ," trying to calm her obviously nervous voice, "now is not a very good time. Sheldon is missing, and I'd like to keep the line open for anything. But I'll tell Geie that you called."

  "No, I didn't call to talk to Geie, Mrs. Cooper. In fact, I'm with Sheldht now. He's fine; you don't o worry," I quickly crified the misuanding.

  "Oh!" In an immediate mix of joy and relief, the woman excimed, "You found him! PJ found Sheldon!" she shouted again to the people in her house.

  "Well, actually, Sheldon found us. Gabe and I were at the ic book store, and he suddenly showed up."

  "That boy is in so much trouble!" The woman immediately ged her mood, angrily deg, "I 't believe he did that." She tinued, still upset, "we even called the poliy god, the police!" Apparently suddenly remembering, she excimed, "I have to call ahem know. PJ, are you sure you bring him? We e get him. I wouldn't want to invenience you." She quickly said, probably trying to end the versation to call the police again.

  "Yes, don't worry, Mrs. Cooper. I was already prepared to go bae anyway. ing a bit earlier is no problem at all," I quickly reassured her.

  "Oh PJ, thank you so much." Gratefully, the woman said goodbye before hanging up the call.

  "So, how's everything?" Unbeknownst to him, Sheldon was waiting behind me, apparently calmly, possibly not uanding the trouble he had gotten into.

  "Well, you're in trouble, buddy." I preferred not to lie, obviously making the boy worry. "But e on, you won't know anything until you get home, and I promised your mother I'd bring you back safe and sound." Motioning to my brother to stand up, I moved the now scared boy aside.

  "Aw, so soon. I barely read these ics." Sadly, the boy poio a stack of iext to him, way more than I would have thought.

  "Tell you ick three ics, and if you do it quickly, I'll buy them for you." Pyfully pushing his head slightly, I told the excited little boy who quickly stood up. "Really?" he asked incredulously. "Tick tock," without answering his theatrical question, I theatrically raised my hand where my watch retending to t the time.

  My trick obviously worked, making the boy quickly move to one of the shelves to pick three ics.

  "So Tam, do you need a ride home?" Remembering the other present kid, I asked.

  "Ride?" Surprised, the Vietnamese boy asked.

  "Yeah, in my car." I expined, pointing outside the ic book store.

  "You got a car?" Amazed, the boy asked again as he stood up, nodding amusedly after I answered with a simple nod, "you'll be the first freshman to have a car. PJ Dun, my friend, your ess grows every day, and so will your popurity." Much more formal than any teenager should be, Tam affirmed.

  Before Tam could tih his, at least what seemed like, praises, Gabe suddenly appeared, "I got them!" Excitedly, Gabe excimed with three i his hands.

  "Okay, let's go pay for these." Taking the ics from my brother's hands, I approached the store manager. "I'm gonna pay for these three," I indicated to the manager as I took out my wallet.

  After paying a surprisingly cheerful store manager, I led a still worried Sheldon outside the store, followed by Gabe and Tam, arently took the opportunity to also leave on their way home.

  While guiding Sheldon, lightly pushing him by the shoulders, we reached a few steps in front of my car before Sheldon abruptly stopped, "your car looks dangerous." Relut to tinue walking, "I'm definitely not getting in." The boy seriously affirmed.

  "That's the coolest car I've ever seen in my life." Guiding a bicycle, Tam surprised excimed.

  "Thanks, Bud." I thahe Vietnamese boy, still trying to get Sheldon to move forward.

  "That's a death trap." Relut, Sheldon said still avoiding moving forward.

  "Sheldon, you know how I drive, remember?" I asked, trying to ge the boy's mind. "I promise I'll stay below the speed limit at all times. Besides, the car has new seat belts, and you'll be in the back seat where statistically-" I was saying again, trying to vihe boy.

  "It's the safest part of the car," the boy cluded on his own, seemingly debating internally whether to get in the car or not.

  "e on, I'm getting tired here," annoyed, Gabe excimed from the side of the car.

  "e on, I promise nothing will happen to you," I reassured the less relut boy. A few seds after silent ption, Sheldon nodded.

  After helping Sheldon by adjusting the passenger seat so he could get into the back, I let Gabe sit in the front passenger seat. "Well, see you at school, Tam," I bid farewell to the Vietnamese boy, who remaiandio his bike. "Yeah, see you at school," Tam slowly said as he strangely looked between his bike and 'Debbie.'

  "Okay, let's go. Gabe, your seatbelt," I ordered my brother as I started the car and pulled onto the main street.

  "PJ, yoing too fast!" Sheldon, from the back seat of the car, said with , making both Gabe and me ugh slightly at the same time.

  "Yes, Sheldon, sorry," I calmly respoo the boy as I drove.

  When we arrived on our street, after parking aing the kids, especially Sheldon in the back seat, out, we could see Mrs. Cooper waiting on her front porch with crossed arms, annoyed, watg her younger son.

  "Thanks fing him, PJ," after greeting the woman, Mrs. Cooper shouted gratefully from her porch.

  "There's nothing to thank, Mrs. Cooper," I replied to the woman.

  "Well, good luck, Sheldon." Giving a final push to the relut boy, I said.

  "See you ter, Gabe. I'm off to work," saying goodbye to my brother as well, I began walking towards the family's house where I would work tonight.

  The walk was only a few minutes, so I wouldn't need 'Debbie' to get there. I had visited the house once before, so fortunately, it was quite easy for me to find.

  The house was as I remembered from a few weeks ago. The front yard, uhe other houses around it, oorly maintained, ao the rge tree at the entrance of the property, there was a rge pile of scattered leaves.

  After knog on the front door and waiting for a few seds, it opened, revealing Mr. Wilkerson, again half-dressed, this time without pants but with a shirt on. "Hello, Mr. Wilkerson," I greeted the man, doing my best to maintain eye tact.

  The man didn't seem tnize me until, after a few seds of seeih intrigue, he finally said, "Oh, PJ, I thought you'd e in five mier," he shouted worriedly, cheg his watch. "It's te," without saying anything else, the maered his house again, walking quickly.

  Taking the man's as as an invitation to enter, I did so, closing the door behiurning baside the house, I surprisingly found all four kids of the family staring at me with furrowed brows, all except the you, Dewey, if I remembered correctly, who simply had a calm look on his face with a small smile.

  "So, let me see, if I remember correctly, Francis, Reese, Mal, and the little Dewey, how are you all?" I greeted each of the kids from the oldest to the you without receiving any response.

  "We're te," breaking the awkward silence we had fallen into, Mrs. Wilkerson said, "now listen to me carefully. This is the first night that your father and I are going out in a long time. I don't want anything stupid, no fires, explosives, broken gss, silly ideas. You'll listen to PJ, and under no circumstances do I want a call tonight. You'll let your father and me have a quiet night." She quickly tio warn her children without pausing to breathe.

  "Whatever your mother said, I'm with her. It's better if you listen," returning to the living room, Mr. Wilkerson said seriously as he tried to tie his tie.

  "Yes, because we really need a babysitter," ironically, Francis said, annoyed. "I'm twelve; I 't-" he was saying, but his mother interrupted, "No, you 't."

  "Here you go, PJ, dinner is in the refrigerator. Bedtime is at nine, and only call if the house is on fire or if someone is in mortal danger. If you call the fire department, there's a ce they'll hang up, so you'll have to call again," with what I sincerely hoped was a bad joke, the woman said, handing me a paper with a phone number written on it.

  Giving o look at her children, Mrs. Wilkerson slowly and with a furrowed brow warned, "Don't do anything."

  Without saying much more, the Wilkerson couple hurriedly left the house, leaving me again with the silent children.

  "So, do you guys want to do something, have any pending tasks, any bames, anything?" Usually, one of those options worked to eain the kids quickly, but seeing the apathetic reas of three out of the four children in front of me, I wasirely sure it would work this time.

  The three older kids, still without saying anything, exged gnces before, in a surprising coordination, denying, "We'd love to, but we already had pnned what to dht?" Francis, the oldest, suspiciously asked his brothers.

  "Yes, that's true." Reese and Mal, again showing an incredible coordination, responded simultaneously.

  "Okay, if you need anything, you call me," I told the three older kids, "while you and I, buddy, watch TV for a while." Taking Dewey like a little sader my arm, I carried him to the nearby couch, taking the remote trol to turn oV. With young kids like Dewey, it was much easier to keep them eained; it only required finding a el with cartoons and keeping it in view.

  While watg over Dewey, sittio him watg cartoons oV, I noticed how the other kids stantly went bad forth from what I could guess was their room to the kit, carrying what I could only describe as materials.

  "Are you guys okay?" I asked the kid i, Mal.

  "Oh, yeah, we're just," he paused to think of the word, "pying." After a few seds, he tinued before running off again with other things in his arms.

  They were definitely pnning something. If the warnings their mother had given were real and not just a bad joke to scare me.

  "I'm going to che your brothers, be right back," patting the boy's head, I headed towards where the other kids were running, not receiving any response from the little boy.

  On my way to where the kids were heading, I suddenly heard a loud but short cry of pain from one of the rooms a few steps away from where I was standing. The scream quickly alerted me, making me qui my pace. "What happened, are you all okay?" I immediately asked upoering the room where the kids were.

  Apparently, my rapid and sudden appearance had surprised the three kids standing in the middle of twe beds in their room. Quickly, the kids, like when we first met

  today, lined up o each other, strangely suspicious.

  "Yes, we're fine," Francis quickly responded with a wide smile.

  "I heard a scream; are you sure everyone is okay?" I asked again. Of the three kids, Reese, the most nervous one, khey were hiding something because it was impossible for the boy to maintain eye tact. "Yes, I'm sure," trying to distract my attention from his brother, Francis spoke again.

  The oldest of the siblings definitely had experien lying, undoubtedly in his voice, maintaining eye tact, and not fetting to give a calm smile. W with kids i few weeks taught me that usually, kids didn't have great lying abilities; there was almost always something that gave them away.

  Reese was definitely nervous, something that even Francis could notice. With a small and quick elbow jab, he got his brother to focus his gaze forward.

  When I shifted my plete attention to the third kid, Mal, I discovered who possibly was the one who had screamed. With his hands behind his back while he seemed to hide something, his face was someale, and the boy was sweating enough for me to notice from where I was standing.

  "Show me your hands, Mal, please," I asked the boy, causing all three children to open their eyes in surprise and .

  With his mouth agape, seemingly unsure how to lie, Mal looked at his brothers for help. "No, show me your hands, e on," approag the boy, I prevented him from seeking further assistance, lifting my hand, I urged him to give me his hands.

  A moment ter, after examining my palms, Mal lowered his head, surrendering his hands. Cheg his palms, I found nothing until I turned his hand and discovered, "a staple?" I asked the boy, who avoided my gaze, much like his two older brothers. "Why do you have a staple stu your hand?" I asked again while iing the damage to the boy's hand.

  "It was an act," Francis quickly excimed nervously, supported by Reese with equally nervous nods.

  "An act, huh? Where's the stapler?" I calmly asked while thhly examining the wound.

  "So where is it?" I asked again when I received no response.

  It seemed that none of the three children would say anything, but Reese involuntarily occasionally sent goward one of the pillows on one of the beds. "So uhis pillow," I said, following his gaze, lifting the pillow, revealing a mousetrap and the stapler.

  Seeing the obvious attempt at a booby trap, with only the gaze I silently interrogated the children again, making them avoid my gaze, especially Mal, who seemed embarrassed. So, that's how it's going to be, huh?

  Taking the trap along with the stapler, I smiled challengingly at the three children in front of me. "It's your choice. We have a quiet fun day or you try to make me leave whit your bobby traps," I said calmly, deactivating the mousetrap. "But that won't work your parents are payio be here until the night, and that's what I'm going to do," I tinued, pulling the staples from the stapler. "Again, your decision, kids," I finished while fast pulling the staple from Mal's hand, causing him to excim in surprise. "There won't be a mark," I assured him.

  ---

  Author Thoughts:

  As always, I am not Ameri, and Not a Doctor.

  I split this chapter into two parts, and the part will be published in the middle of the uping week.

  I've received several ents regarding the severity of the punishment the MC receives. In my opinion, putting myself in the shoes of Bob and Amy in 1990, 3000 was a signifit amount of money. Also, I uand that underage gambling is illegal in the Uates. From my perspective, it's not an overly exaggerated punishment (even though he made money from it, no matter). My experience as a person being disciplined by a Latino mother tells me that a month and a week is a short time for doing something illegal and stupid.

  I've also received reendations to occasionally tihe story from the perspective of another character. Yes, it's something I want to try at some point. I've been thinking about how to do it without disrupting the flow of the story because I'm not sure if the current narrative style is the best for a ge in perspective. What do you think?

  Having said that,

  I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.

  Thanks for reading! :D

  PS: PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW, please.