Page 27 of The Right Sign


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“We had a good time. Henry got drunk…” I laugh it off.

Dad smiles. He buys everything I’m selling.

“And after,” I sign hesitantly, “we came home. It wasn’t that interesting.”

Unless you count the fact that I intentionally swung a bat into the most expensive car in the world right in front of the owner’s face.

I bite into the apple to keep from exposing anything more.

At once, my parents swerve their attention to the windows. I pick up on their cue and glance in that direction too.

Mom and dad look equally puzzled. I wonder what they heard?

Dad stomps to the window. Since my father is heavy-set, it’s easier for me to sense when he’s entered or exited a room. I can also gauge his emotions by the vibration.

Heavy thuds? Dad’s angry.

Hesitant thumps means he wants to say something I won’t like to hear.

But this…

I don’t think I’ve felt this kind of thump before.

Dad faces me. He signs ‘limo’ and then raises both eyebrows.

Mom signs, “Why is there a limo outside our house?”

I draw near to the window and my mouth drops. A gleaming black limousine takes up most of the street. There’s a man in a chauffeur’s uniform, complete with white gloves, waiting outside in the heat.

Dad arches an eyebrow at me.

I shake my head, totally lost.

My parents whip their heads up again. This time, their eyes are on the door.

I look that way too.

Did someone knock?

Dad stalks over to the front door and spies through the peephole.

Mom comes up to me. She pockets her phone and signs, “I asked Sazuki if he sent a limo.”

Right.

Sazuki.

He’s the only guy crazy enough to send a limo to our house. But why didn’t he let us know first?

Just then, my watch buzzes.

There’s a new message icon.

I pull out my phone and read the text.

Rolls Royce:I thought you might need a ride.

I read and re-read that message.

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