Olympus: It's Not Just a Game

Chapter 30

           

The "beep, beep, beep" of a delivery truck backing up woke Mrs. Avery a little before seven a.m..  Theirs was a quiet street—an older development tucked away from the new townhouses that crawled across the landscape like giant caterpillars.  She wondered who was getting a delivery so early.  Then she realized it was coming from her lawn.  Her back lawn!

            She sprang out of bed, jerked up the window, and peered out.  Her husband was motioning a large truck back across the grass toward her cellar steps.  She threw on a bathrobe and ran downstairs.  By the time she got there, the first huge box had already bumped its way down the bulkhead steps into her basement.  "Mark Avery!  What is going on here?"

            "We're adding hardware, honey," he answered, yawning hugely.

            She looked up at him, and realized he was still wearing the jeans and T-shirt he'd had on last night.  "Did you ever come to bed last night?" she asked.  He pointed to his end of the basement.  A two-liter bottle of Diet Pepsi stood, almost empty, next to his computer screen, and she noted the unmistakable smell of microwave popcorn.  Stacks of yellowing printouts surrounded his chair.  It had all the earmarks of another Avery all-nighter.  Her expression softened with concern.  "Mark, why do you do this to yourself?"

            He grinned wearily.  "Some questions can only really be answered at three a.m., babe."

            The doorbell rang upstairs.  "I'll get it," Mrs. Avery said, automatically.  She trotted up the basement steps and found Nancy, Jacob, and a man she had never met before at her door.  "Nancy!" she gasped.  "And where were you last night?"

            "At the Huber's, Mom," Nancy said, slipping past her and heading down the stairs.  "And, oh, yes, this is Mr. Huber.  Mom, Mr. Huber.  Mr. Huber, Mom.  I gotta go!  Has Dad got the cybersuit plugged in yet?"

            "Cybersuit?" Mrs. Avery asked.  "Is that what's in that box?"

            "Boxes," Nancy called back over her shoulder.

            Little April came down from her bedroom, clutching her faded bunny under one arm.  "What's up?" she asked, knuckling one sleepy eye and peering about curiously.  "Did I miss breakfast?"

            "No, honey," her mother answered.  "Run up and get dressed, though.  We've got company."

            "Are you going to get dressed, Mommy?"

            Mrs. Avery looked down at herself and blushed.  "Oh, dear!"  She waved at Mr. Huber and Jacob.  "Why don't you two go on down to the basement.  You seem to know what's going on better than I do this morning."  She ran upstairs and reached for clothes suitable for company, then thought better of it and grabbed her jeans.  It looked like being that kind of a day.  She shoved a brush through her hair, and was trying to decide whether she could skip the makeup, when the doorbell rang again.  "Now what?" she yipped.

            There was a tall redheaded woman and a boy in a wheelchair outside her front door.  "Mrs. Avery?" the woman asked, politely.  Mrs. Avery nodded.  "I'm Sheila Morrison, and this is my son, Simon.  Your husband asked us to come over this morning."  She noted Mrs. Avery's untamed hair and flustered expression.  "I'm sorry we're so early," she added, apologetically.  "He said it was really important."

            "Really important," Mrs. Avery muttered to herself.  "Mark Avery's code word for another roller coaster ride."

            Mrs. Morrison tactfully cleared her throat.  "May we come in?"