Chapter 2
Chapter Two
“Look out!”
The Little shouted the warning about two seconds before they would have mowed over Briggs Mullaney if he hadn’t dashed out of the way just in the nick of time.
He nearly fell to the ground, staggering several steps, unable to regain his footing for a few long seconds.
Unfortunately, he was stumbling in the direction of the scaffolding he’d just erected against the historic mansion that housed Auntie Athena’s nursery.
And the scaffolding had buckets of paint on it.
In his mind, he could see it all: he’d fall into the scaffolding, it would fall over sending the paint onto him and the surrounding lawn and nearby porch.
Thankfully, though, his feet steadied about an inch away from disaster.
Another disaster was unfolding, though.
The Little—and the rocket they were driving—seemed out of control.
Normally, the gate that stretched across the driveway was closed, keeping uninvited guests from visiting the unique establishment. But today it was wide open as Briggs brought his work truck in and unloaded all his stuff.
He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad. Had the gate been closed, the rocket would have most likely crashed into it. And as fast as it went, that could have been awful!
Open, though, presented another problem.
The Little was in the street now, in the middle of busy West Hollywood!
“Crap,” Briggs said, taking off across the yard and onto the driveway.
The small decline gave him an extra boost of speed as he descended the smooth pavement and came out onto the road.
Turning left, he could still see the go-kart as it zig-zagged all over the road, reminding Briggs of a pinball bouncing around a machine’s board.
It nearly collided into a parked Mercedes on the right curb. The Little was able to steer away from it, but that sent them to the left where the nose of a moving van stuck out of a driveway.
“Whoa!”
The Little’s exclamation reached Briggs’s ears even from a distance.
Poor cutie. They were probably terrified. He hadn’t gotten a chance to see who was behind the wheel. Athena had a packed house today, so it could be any number of Littles who were hanging around, getting into mischief.
But this was more than just harmless fun. It was clear the rocket was out of control. This wasn’t just a case of a Little being naughty and taking the vehicle out for a spin.
Something was wrong.
Briggs pumped his legs harder. His ankles started to hurt as his feet pounded the pavement, reminding him he wasn’t as young as he used to be.
It wasn’t that he was old, exactly. Just forty-one. But at times like this he felt every one of those years.
Ahead, it looked as if the rocket was slowing down. Good! That would give him the advantage he needed.
“Hold on!” he yelled. “I’m coming—”
The rocket blasted off again.
What the heck was that thing? It was red, had an open-cockpit type of seating area like one would find on a small, single-person plane. It had wheels and some sort of motor, because it was loud, but Briggs couldn’t see if it was concealed in the front or the back.
It had a lot of power too! Someone had souped that thing up.
Briggs figured he knew who, but that wasn’t important right now. He just needed to catch up and help the Little before someone was seriously hurt!
“Oh shit!” the Little screamed.
The rocket had cut across the street, bounded the right curb, and was now tearing through a yard.
And tearing was the right word. Upon reaching it, Briggs could see deep ruts torn into the otherwise pristine lot. Dirt and bits of grass trailed the rocket like falling confetti.
A man had come out the front door of the mansion the yard belonged to, shaking his fist angrily and yelling words one probably shouldn’t yell. Though Briggs figured he’d be irritated too, if it was his yard being torn to smithereens by some weird runaway rocket.
Of course, Briggs’s yard wasn’t in front of a giant mansion like this. His place was a bit more… humble.
No massive house. No expensive car parked out front. And no Olympic-size pool in the backyard.
That’s it! A pool! These houses always have pools!
It was Hollywood, after all.
A quick glance told him there was no fence. Perfect!
“Go toward the backyard!” he yelled.
Looking over her shoulder, the cute but terrified Little said, “Huh?”
Briggs pointed toward the side of the house. “Go to the back! If there’s a pool, aim for it!”
A look of understanding appeared in the woman’s eyes before she returned her gaze ahead of her. It was a good thing she did too, because she almost put the nose of the rocket in the tall row of hedges that separated this property from the next.
Two ruts continued to appear behind the rocket as it zipped the wide alley formed by those giant hedges and the mansion. Oh man, Briggs thought as he ran behind it, there was going to be a lot of cleanup after this was all over.
The rocket disappeared around the house to the right. A moment later, Briggs went the same way and was relieved to see that indeed there was a pool.
Water splashed a few feet into the air before falling back down, some of it splatting loudly on the concrete as the rocket hit the clear blue surface.
It instantly began to sink.
“Crap!” Briggs yelled again.
He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside even as he was already diving in.
Suddenly, the world was wavy and washed in blue as he descended to the deepest part of the massive pool. Chlorine stung his eyes. The rocket—softened by the watery haze—was a muted version of itself, its red not quite as blaring as it finished sinking and bounced on the pool floor.
The woman was moving her arms frantically, but she stopped when she realized Briggs was there.
He unfastened the seatbelt, took hold of her, and felt like Aquaman as he swam up, holding her arm and guiding her toward the fresh air. They broke the surface a second later and gasped for precious oxygen.
“Are you okay?” he asked, once they’d both recovered.
“Yeah. Thanks to you!” she cried.
He got out first and then helped her, water falling off their clothes, sounding like rain hitting the concrete for a moment.
Briggs looked at the woman again and realized it was Iris. She was a regular at the nursery. Her Daddy, Jack, was a former cop who now headed up the Daddy Guard’s Los Angeles chapter.
“You’re going to be in some trouble over this little stunt, huh?”
Iris winced and nodded. “I didn’t mean to ride that thing down the street or tear up anyone’s yard! And I’m sorry I almost hit you. It’s just… well, it sort of went haywire or something.” She groaned and shook her head. “But yeah, Daddy is not going to like this one bit.”
It took Briggs a moment to recall the name of the two Littles who were always tinkering with things.
He wasn’t sure how he’d forgotten! One was a famous actor and the other was a film director.
But Briggs was a newbie at the nursery, so he was still learning.
“Let me guess, Harrison and Stryker had something to do with this.”
Iris nodded. “They didn’t put me up to this. It was all me. I don’t want them getting in trouble.” She shrugged. “They’re not even here yet. But they left this prototype rocket in the garage, and, well… me and my friends thought it would be fun to test drive.”
As if on cue, bubbles rose to the top of the pool and gurgled loudly.
“Oh boy,” Iris continued. “I probably ruined it.”
The man who’d been yelling on the porch earlier stormed out his back door and was now yelling and cursing from his patio.
Briggs could hear other people chattering and running, no doubt rushing to the scene. Even amidst all the chaos, he couldn’t help but chuckle.
Life with Littles seemed interesting, to say the least.
But he still couldn't wait until he had one of his own.
A Little to hold, cherish, and protect.
Maybe he’d find her soon…