Flipped

1.7

"Wee-woo-wee-woo"

We were running full tilt.  There was another row of box stores across the street, and we ran straight past them, into the back parking lot and towards the next street.

The policemen let the siren ring for a few seconds before getting out of the car and running after us toward the back of the row of buildings.

"Stop! Police!"

"Run!"

The next intersection was a busy one. There was no time to stop, barely to slow down.

SCREECH!

Several horns hit at the time time as we slammed across the busy 4-way. Across the street was a Wendy's and an Arby's. We ran straight past them, into the back-alley.

"Oh, this is great," Ava said, out of breath.

Fences lined the alley from the next-over residential street, extending left and right with no gaps that we could see.

"Here," I said to Ava, giving her my hands to stand on. She pushed up and swivelled over.

I looked at Taylor.

She looked at me, smirked, and pushed herself over.

Then, Mike hopped over.

"Hey," I said over the fence. "Are you guys okay?"

They weren't answering and there was no time to hesitate.

I grabbed the top of the fence posts and pulled myself up. There was a split-second sickening moment when I balanced at the top. Then, I swiveled my legs over, and dropped down, landing right on my butt.

My friends were standing stock-still and totally silent.

Now I could see why.

We had landed in the middle of a garden party.

I know that sounds like a wierd way to describe it, but seriously, run your stereotypes.

There were fancy teapots.

Scones. Biscuits.

Top-hats. Dresses. Suits.

And a dozen or so adults, all looking wide-eyed at the four teenagers who had just fallen on the edge of an impeccably-kept lawn.

I got up and stood with my friends.

My hearing came back and I remembered why we were here.  The air was still saturated with three or more sirens maybe a block away.

"Sir Henry," one woman who must have been in her early 30's said to the man beside her, "What do you make of this?"

"Oh my God, they have accents," Mike muttered from beside me.

"Who can tell, Lola?' said Sir Henry. "Do they want to partake in tea? Or perhaps a scone?"

"I cannot tell my dear sir," said Taylor. We all turned to her in surprise. "Is there room at the table?"

There was. No joke, there was.

There were six empty spots.

I shot Taylor a look. She just smiled.

We walked forward and the men around the table all stood up. Two of them, Sir Henry and another, more elderly man in a tan suit-jacket, helped Ava and Taylor to their seats.

"In any case, Sir John, what were we discussing?"

"Really, it has to do with the overall sense of industry in Essex, and the real question: how does that affect tea and tobacco prices? I am already flummoxed by their rise."

"Yes. Quite." Lola said, with a nod of her head.

Mike and I were stiff as boards. Taylor, on the other hand -

"Have you considered that the tarif rates might be unnecessarily increasing the cost? And those labour reform bills cannot be helping. Perhaps we can help workers in another way, rather than just increasing caps. So unimaginative.."

Sir Henry was ecstatic, "see, this is exactly what I have been saying! Unimaginative, exactly so! But would different changes still help with worker unrest in the same way or would there have to be additional - measures - put into place?"

Taylor wore a look of shock on her face. "Well, certainly, I think so. Your thoughts, Lola?"

And did Lola ever have thoughts. She talked and talked and talked. About the cost-benefit, about the proletariat. And Taylor followed every word and coaxed her along.

"What about your silent friends? What do they think?"

For a moment, eleven or so eyes on us.

"My friends are shy about their ideas, however, they are much in agreement." Taylor said. 

"Ahh - what a shame," said Lola. 

"Maybe if they don't want to talk, we could play some croquet?" asked one of the men. He had a top hat that got wider and wider all the way to the top.

"Oh no," Ava cut in. "I'm really not sure we could."

"Nonsense!" Lola cried. "You simply must play."

So began what may have been the strangest afternoon of my life. When we finally got out of there, all of us having to deny repeated requests to stay longer, it was more than 2 hours later. It was only then that Ava saw the sign hidden away in the corner.

Sir Lancelot's Happy Minstrel Group, it said.

"That's it, I'm tapped out," Mike muttered as we walked out.

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I've been not keeping to my Monday/Wednesday schedule lately, but I'm still sticking to twice as week, and I hope to get back on track fully next week.  Enjoy, and please comment!!