Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part EightThere's the Way, Where's the Will?, Part Nine"All right, Japhy, what happened?"
"It's kind of hard to explain, Smiley," Japheth Koppelberg told his sister as they talked through Japheth's cellphone. It was just a few hours after a fight had broken out among students of Riuwiee State University who had tried to get a glimpse of Rory Edwards, an alumnus of Riuwiee State and generally considered as one of Abanhfleft's hottest young football players.
"Then explain it to me, Japh," Smiley Koppelberg said from her end after letting out an exasperated sigh.
"All right, I'll try," Japheth said after a sigh of his own. "You remember Rory Edwards?"
"Of course I do," Smiley replied. "Who doesn't remember Rory Edwards?"
"Well, he arrived here at uni today because of the SFA Cup game between United and Haranguer, and Evie and Mal and Carlos and Jay were all over him, and then everyone else wanted a piece of him, and I may have given someone the finger, and then it was all punches and slaps and fighting after that. Next thing I know, Mr Michelin's pulling us all apart, and now we're in purgatorial limbo until our parents and-or guardians have a chat with him." Mr Michelin was what the students of Riuwiee State called Mitchell Davidson, their dean, who had a waistline reminiscent of the Michelin Man.
"All right, I did not understand a single thing that you just said," Smiley said.
"Smiley!"
"I was just joking, Japhy! But you can't expect me to go down there and talk to Michelin for you! I'm in the middle of getting a very big break for one of my clients, and I'll be damned if I don't get my ten percent cut of her one hundred million NS dollars!"
"NS dollars? Really? Not penenks? Real, legit greenbacks?"
"Yeah, real legit greenback NS dollars! Now go get your brother to talk to Michelin before you lose your cut of my ten percent!"
"What's that I hear about real legit greenbacks, Japh?" Carlos DeVille asked from the bench across the hallway from Japheth. The benches were near the office of the dean, and this was where the students involved in the fight had been sent after the dean had sorted out the guilty parties from the innocent bystanders. At least a dozen other students were seated at various points in the benches, and they all sported injuries and bruises on various parts of their bodies. Carlos was holding up a cold pack over the right side of his face, where he had sustained a black eye in the fighting.
"None of your business, Carlos," Japheth replied. He had a gauze bandage on his cheek, where the skin had broken open after he was hit with a straight fist. He then turned back to his cellphone and tried to call Matt, but then he heard a digitized female voice say, "Your call credits have expired. Please reload to call and text your friends again."
"Just my luck," Japheth muttered. "No load right when I need one." His eyes traveled down the corridor before settling on a payphone that had once been painted a bright silver but had been dulled by time and wear and tear into a rusty gray. "Carlos, d'you have some penenk coins, or even smacars?" Smacars were a further denomination of the penenk.
"Oh, go eff yourself, Japh," Carlos muttered, but he still reached into his pockets with his free hand and came up with three one-penenk coins. "You owe me."
"I'll pay it later," Japheth said as he stood up and walked towards the payphone. He deposited a single penenk coin into the slot and then dallied for a moment as he struggled to remember the house's telephone number. Constant use of cellphones had caused him to nearly forget the seven numbers that would connect him to the house. Finally he recalled the seven numbers from a dusty corner of the back of his mind and punched it into the payphone. As the line rang, Japheth hoped that he had remembered the number correctly, or else he would've wasted a penenk.
"Koppelberg residence," a male voice replied from the other end of the line as it was picked up.
"Matt, it's me, Japheth. I need your help."
"All right, little man. What is it you got yourself into this time?" Matt Koppelberg asked. Japheth told him about how he and his friends were discussing a group project when they saw Rory Edwards wandering around the campus, and how it eventually escalated into a fight that the dean himself had to break up. Once Japheth had finished his story, Matt said, "Nice story. You should submit it to a scriptwriter or a publisher; it will make a good movie or a good book."
"I'm not kidding, Matt!" Japheth replied. "I need a guardian here before the dean lets us go, and Smiley's too busy getting a cut to cut me loose over here. You wouldn't want your younger brother to suffer something tantamount to detention now, would you? Actually, don't answer that."
"All right, fine, I'll be there," Matt said. "Right after I finish serving my lady friend visitor."
"Great," Japheth muttered as Matt's voice was replaced by a dial tone. "It's gonna take me more than an hour before I can get out of Michelin's hellhole."
An hour and a half later, Matt Koppelberg finally arrived at the university. Having been a frequent visitor of the dean's office in his time with the university, he knew exactly where to go to look for Japheth.
"Hey there, little man!" he called out as he sat down beside Japheth, who was busy playing with his phone.
"You finally came," Japheth muttered.
"Actually, I came a few times before going here," Matt said, "but that's beside the point. I'm here, and that's what matters. Now, where's this Mr Michelin you speak of?"
"He's still in his office, chewing out the parents and guardians that went here early," Japheth replied.
"Carlos, what have you done again?" a familiar male voice called out from down the hallway. Matt and Japheth looked down the hall and saw Clement DeVille walking up towards them, or rather appeared to be walking towards them. Japheth knew that the RBI agent was actually headed for his nephew, while Matt was very much caught by surprise by the agent's appearance in the university.
"If your mother could see you right now, she'd give you a very stern word!" DeVille said to Carlos. He then happened to look at Japheth and then at Matt, and then he asked him, "Have we met before?"
"I don't think so," Matt replied. "I have a face that looks like a lot of other faces."
"Still, I can't help but get the feeling I've seen you somewhere. What's your name?"
"Oh, uh, Seamus Koppelberg," Matt replied, extending his hand. "I'm Japheth's, er, uncle."
"Clement DeVille," DeVille said, shaking Matt's hand. "This is my nephew Carlos."
"Matt, why are you pretending that you don't know Clem?" Japheth asked him.
"We're not supposed to know each other, Japhy," Matt said in a low whisper. "It would be wise for you to remember that."
"Oh, yeah, right," Japheth said. "You're hiding from the RBI because of your shady business dealings--hmph!" Matt suddenly clapped a hand over Japheth's mouth to keep him from talking and saying more that could compromise Matt and Clem's "working relationship."
"All right, who's next!?" Mitchell Davidson, Dean of the College of Arts and Letters of Riuwiee State University, bellowed as he heaved himself through his office door after dismissing the first group of students reprimanded for what the rest of the uni was now calling "the Rory Edwards brawl." He looked around the hallway and his eyes landed on Japheth. "Of course," he muttered before saying in a louder voice, "Come on in." Matt, Japheth, Carlos and DeVille got the signal and shuffled obediently into his office.
"I really must have to ask for dispensation for my nephew Carlos," Clement DeVille said as they took their seats in front of the Dean's desk. "He's going through a bit of a rough patch since his mother was arrested and jailed--"
"I don't give a damn about what my students are going through emotionally," Davidson said. "That is still no reason for him to be involved in fights! If he really wanted, he could apply his emotions into something more productive like, for example, his creative writing lessons! And as for you, Koppelberg," he continued, pointing at both Japheth and Matt, "you've got quite the rap sheet going against you!"
"Oh, no, here he goes again," Japheth muttered, cupping his forehead in his hand.
"Why? What's he talking about?" Matt asked his younger brother.
"Let me explain it to you, sir, in clear terms you'll understand," Davidson said to Matt. "This student here, your charge, has been regularly not attending classes for the past school term. I'm sure he hasn't mentioned that particular detail of his school life to you, sir."
"What!?" Matt asked. "Is that true, Japheth?"
"I haven't told you,
Uncle Seamus," Japheth replied, "but Smiley knows about this already. Trust me, she knows."
"Does she now?" Matt asked with a bit of rhetoric coming through his voice.
"You're very much lucky that your academic record hasn't suffered from his constant absences," Davidson said to Japheth as he continued his dressing down-slash-rant. "Meanwhile, you, DeVille, you really need to get your head screwed on right, or else you'll be in much worse things than what happened right now. This incident goes into your records, boys. I hope you will realize that this will have to be your last. The university doesn't like to let go of students with the kind of academic results that you produce."
"Well, that was a weird talking-to if I ever saw one," Matt said as he and Japheth talked over dinner. "And did you really flip the bird on somebody?"
"I think it was pure reflex, Matt," Japheth replied. "I saw a guy that I hated in the crowd and I couldn't help but give him the good news. Somebody else saw it, thought I was flipping him off, and got me right here." He pointed at the bandage on his cheek.
"Well, that's not right. You should learn to be more subtle with your middle finger. Now I know that what you just went through isn't exactly the right situation to use them, but you need some subtlety with your middle finger game."
"Oh, I know a subtle flip-off already," Japheth said. "It's as simple as scratching your nose or brow with your middle finger." He then proceeded to demonstrate the technique.
"That's good!" Matt said. "And for those special occasions where you want the recipient to understand the full gravity of the situation, that's when the slow crank is best and most effective. You just make a fist and begin twisting beside your flipping hand as you steadily raise your middle finger..."
"Matt!" Smiley cried out as she came in to the house. "What are you and Japhy talking about now?"
"It's grand and bold but not very subtle," Matt told Japheth.
"Are you teaching your little brother to flip off people?" Smiley asked.
"It popped up in the dinner conversation."
"If you want a quicker way to flip the bird, just blow on your thumb like it's a balloon and let the finger rise," Smiley said, demonstrating her own technique as she sat down with Matt and Japheth for dinner.
"I love my family," Japheth said before shaking his head and eating his dinner.