The Absolute Value of Mike Read Free Page B

movie?”
    â€œOh, that’s what you’re talking about!”
    There’s not a whole lot more embarrassing than having your great-aunt shout about your underwear in the middle of an airport. I felt like everyone was staring at where my boxers were. I rushed ahead through the automatic doors to get outside.
    â€œWait for me, dear!” I heard Moo call after me. “You don’t even know where I left Tyrone!”
    I turned around and watched her come through the doors behind me. “Tyrone?”
    â€œYes, dear. How do you expect to find him without me?”
    â€œWho’s . . . is that Poppy?”
    â€œGoodness, no! Poppy and Tyrone don’t get along at all.” She grinned. “Poppy thinks I spend entirely too much time and money on Tyrone. I think he’s a little jealous.”
    I had this momentary frightening image of a little old lady having an affair with a boy toy. I shook my head hard to get rid of it. “So . . . who’s Tyrone?” I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted to know.

3
    SKEW LINES
    â€”lines that do not intersect but are not parallel and exist only in three dimensions
    Â 
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    A car? Tyrone is a car?”
    â€œYes, he’s a Ford Tor—, Tar—”
    â€œTaurus.”
    â€œSee? Who can remember a silly name like that? I like Tyrone much better. It’s a lovely name, don’t you think?”
    I decided to play along and opened the door of the backseat. “I’ll just put my bags in Tyrone’s back pocket—” I stopped when I saw what was inside. The backseat was covered in red velvet, including the armrest. There were movie posters on the backs of the front seats, the door panels, and the roof of the car. Gone with the Wind. The Sound of Music. The Wizard of Oz. Even Under Siege, Die Hard, and The Terminator.
    I stared. And sniffed. “It smells like popcorn.”
    â€œIt must be left over from Sunday’s matinee.”
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œSunday afternoons I come in here and watch movies.”
    â€œHow?”
    â€œOh, my dear, I know those old movies so well, I just look at the poster and it all comes back to me. It’s much cheaper than going out to a regular theater.”
    I threw my bags in the “theater” and sat next to Moo.
    She dropped her huge purse in my lap. The thing must’ve weighed fifteen pounds. “You take care of Junior.”
    â€œJunior?”
    â€œYes, I’ve downsized drastically.” She put both hands on top of the steering wheel, which was covered with bright orange fuzzy fabric.
    â€œWhat was it before? A U-Haul?”
    But I didn’t hear her answer because Tyrone shot out of the parking space faster than the Emperor of Doom’s trebuchet could fling a cannonball.
    â€œWhoa!” I grabbed on to the dashboard.
    â€œTyrone has a mind of his own, dear, but he’s an excellent driver.”
    The way she put her hands up on the wheel made it look like she was trying to climb a ladder so she could see what was over the top . . . of the dashboard. I wasn’t old enough to drive, but it seemed to me you should be looking above the steering wheel, not through it.
    â€œMoo? Can you see okay?”
    â€œOf course I can!” she snapped. “There’s nothing wrong with my eyes. Now, help me read the signs.”
    Talk about the blind leading the blind. We circled the parking garage three times before I persuaded her to take the ramp with the Exit sign above it. She thought the sign said Erie and asked, “We don’t want to go all the way up there, do we?”
    I wasn’t sure we’d even get all the way to her house, what with the gurgling, knocking noises coming out of Tyrone. After several minutes Moo started coughing along with him.
    â€œWhat’s that noise?”
    Moo sniffed. “Allergies.”
    â€œNo, I meant Tyrone.”
    â€œSo did I. They’re seasonal, though. He does