The Archangel Drones (2 page)

Peelian Principle

The degree of public cooperation that can be secured diminishes proportionately to the necessity of the use of physical force by the police.

Jacob bounded down the stairs, his bright mood reflecting the crisp, late-morning sunlight. Invigorated by the extra hours of sleep afforded by the Saturday, no-school, non-alarm morning, the teen immediately made for the kitchen, his thoughts consumed by the refrigerator.

He paused at the dining room’s threshold, glancing up at the high ceiling like he had a thousand times before. There was a smoke detector up there, the safety device now discolored and smudged from years of fingerprints. His fingerprints.

Briefly ignoring his teenage body’s need for substance, Jacob reflected back on the first time he’d been able to jump up and touch the detector. It had been a dream when he was 12, a frustration when he was 14, and just out of reach for what seemed like an eternity. He’d just received his learner’s permit in the mail on the day his finger finally brushed the 10-foot high device. The excitement of learning to drive a car was immediately superseded by the realization that he could finally touch a basketball goal’s rim.

That had been a memorable day, he reflected, glancing right and left to make sure his mother wasn’t anywhere around.

Reassured the coast was clear, Jacob bent slightly at the knees and effortlessly launched into the air. The top of his hair rubbed the detector.

Landing gracefully, he peered up and smiled at the once unachievable benchmark. What had been impossible just a few years ago was now easy. He wondered if the rest of his life would be the same.

Deciding it was too early for such introspection, the ravenous teen pivoted for the kitchen, only to bump into his father.

Gabriel Chase stood with his arms crossed, trying desperately to maintain a fake frown. It was a difficult feat, quickly turning into a hopeless cause by his son’s sheepish reaction at getting caught. “You better not let your mother see you doing that, young man,” he warned with a sly grin. “She had me up on that ladder for an entire Sunday afternoon trying to clean off your finger smudges, and I don’t like heights.”

“Yes, sir,” the guilty son muttered, sensing he wasn’t in any real trouble, but not wanting to ruin his amazing mood. “But think about this, Dad. The next time that sensor needs a new battery, you won’t have to drag the ladder out of the garage. I’ll just use my hang-time and replace it for you. No charge.”

Gabe nodded just as his wife appeared around the corner. “What are you two boys up to?” she teased, rubbing her chin in mock apprehension. “I sense a male conspiracy.”

“Nothing, Mother,” Mr. Chase responded with an equal amount of feigned innocence. “I was just on my way upstairs to roust our sleepy son and talk to him about his college fund.”

Maneuvering around his father, Jacob steered for the kitchen while replying, “Oh, Dad, do we have to discuss that right now? It’s such a great day, and Manny is supposed to meet me at the park in a little bit.”

“Girls, food, and basketball,” Mr. Chase said to his wife with a chuckle. “That’s all that boy ever thinks about.”

The parents followed, watching as the always-hungry teen bent to rummage through the fridge. 

“Seriously, Jacob, your mom and I have been saving up for your education,” Gabe began with his typical matter-of-fact voice. “But since you’ve been awarded a full scholarship, we decided we can spend some of the money now.”

“Yeah?” the teen responded, instantly intrigued at the prospect. “What did you have in mind?” he quizzed, looking up from the crisper drawer and sounding like a 5-year-old working to discover the contents of a Christmas present.

Then an odd expression soiled the moment, the teen suddenly worried his parents were going to force him to go along on some weird family vacation or trip. The thought of being away from Manny and his teammates was enough to ruin a guy’s Saturday.
Don’t they know I’m a little old for Disneyland
, he vexed. 

“Your mother and I have been discussing a few possibilities. How would you feel about a new smartphone? Or maybe a more robust laptop for all that college homework?”

The stated prospects returned a smile to Jacob’s face. Seeing the mental wheels begin to whir and spin inside his son’s head, Gabe realized the bait had been taken. Knowing that timing was everything, the crafty father set the hook. “But we’ll talk about that later. Right now, could you please take out the garbage?”

Jacob started to protest, glancing down at the sandwich makings in his hand. Sandy timed her intervention perfectly, reaching to take the ingredients and saying, “Go on, son. Do as your father asks. I’ll make you something to eat while you pull the cans to the curb.”

Handing over the lunchmeat and mustard, Jacob muttered, “Yes, ma’am,” and headed toward the back door. He didn’t notice the knowing glance exchanged between his parents, nor did he detect their stealthy movements to follow him out the door.

The new Honda completely commanded the ordinarily mundane driveway, its freshly detailed paint accessorized with a big, red bow covering the hood. A five-foot banner, flanked by oversized clusters of helium balloons, announced his success to the world, “Congratulations, Jay-man!”

The unexpected gift of a new ride stunned the teenager, his body freezing mid-stride while his mouth moved with a soundless flapping. “Mom! Dad! When did…. It’s beautiful…. How?”

Both of the Chases had their cell phones snapping and recording away, the proud parents glowing almost as much as their offspring.

Gabe finally stopped taking pictures and moved to his son’s side. “She’s three years old, Jay. Like I always say, we may share the same last name as the big bank, but they’ve got all the money.”

“Dad, it’s perfect,” Jacob beamed, moving to open the passenger door and look inside.

“It was a good deal. She’s got low miles and had a single owner. She’s got brand new tires, and I had a mechanic check out everything under the hood. If you take care of her, she should last you quite a few years.”

“And it had a good safety rating,” Sandy chimed in.

Abandoning his examination of the interior, Jacob closed the door and darted toward his mother with open arms. “Thank you so much! I can’t think of a better surprise!”

After a quick walk-through of the auto’s features, Jacob was soon backing out the driveway for the first test drive. “I’m going to head over and show Manny,” he announced. “I already texted her pictures, and she’s dying to see my new wheels.”

“Be careful, son,” Gabe advised. “Take your time and get used to it.”

But he was already pulling away, honking and waving as he motored off.

Gabe turned to his wife and said, “Do you ever feel like chopped liver?”

“Now, Gabe… you know how it was when we were his age. Besides, Manny is a sweetheart. I think they’re cute together.”

After a moment, his smile returned, along with an agreeing nod. “Yes, they are a nice match, and I do remember when seeing you was all I could think about. I still feel the same way, just so you know.”

Sandy stood on her tiptoes, kissing him on the cheek. “Come back inside, you flirtatious young man, and I’ll make you that sandwich I promised your son. That’ll teach him to rush off and leave us old folks in his dust.”

It was with no small amount of relief that the Chases met their son at the door after his first journey in the new car. Realizing their apprehension was a little too obvious, they tried to recover. “So how did Manny like the new wheels?” Sandy asked.

“She loved it just as much as I do,” Jacob replied with a huge grin. “The radio sounds great, and she helped me program in the best stations. We’re going to skip the movie tonight and just relax to some good music while we drive around.”

Gabe was about to make a comment regarding the wisdom of his son’s dating plan when his cell phone rang.

Frowning at the unusual number displayed on the screen, he answered with a neutral tone. “This is Gabriel Chase.”

“Mr. Chase, this is Bob Covington, the basketball coach up at State. I’ve had a last minute trip to Houston come up, and I’d love to take your family out to dinner tonight. I’m anxious to meet Jacob and welcome him to the team.”

Gabe’s smile filled the room as he glanced up at a curious Sandy and Jacob. “Why sure, Coach Covington, we’d be honored to meet with you. What time is your flight arriving?”

“I’m supposed to land at 7:15 this evening. If you want to go ahead and make reservations, I can probably meet any time after 8:30… given the rental car counter isn’t too backed up.”

“What kind of restaurant would be a good fit?” Gabe asked.

“I’m a steak and potatoes type of guy, Mr. Chase. If you’ve got a pencil nearby, I can give you the name of my favorite H-Town steakhouse.”

The call was disconnected a few moments later, Gabe smiling widely at his son and wife. “That was your new college coach, Jacob. He wants to take us all out to dinner… at one of the most expensive restaurants in the city.”

The young basketball star surprised his father, a look of disappointment crossing his face. “But, Dad… I had a date with Manny tonight. She’s so excited about the car.”

Rolling his eyes, Gabe wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders, pulling him tight. “Well, why don’t you invite her along? I’m sure the coach would like to meet Manny as well, and if there’s any problem with his expense account, I’ll splurge for her steak. Besides, she’s such a little thing… she can’t eat that much.”

Jacob struggled to stifle the yawn, the combination of a satiated stomach and the late hour impacting his body more than his still-racing mind.

His attention had remained fixated on Manny most of the night, the young girl’s reaction to the glamor and ritz of the fine eatery enhancing what had already been an enchanted evening.

Like Jacob, a middleclass upbringing had never exposed her to such a highbrow establishment. It was as if the dim, candlelit ambiance and well-heeled clientele had cast a magical spell.

Shy at first, not wanting to make any social errors that would demonstrate bad manners or a lack of sophistication, Manny had approached every course of the meal with an air of dainty reserve. She had fussed over which fork to use, waiting until the adults had proceeded and following their example.

Her appreciation of each dish’s presentation had been charming, Mrs. Chase and she exchanging comments of awe and amazement over what the chefs had prepared.

Jacob, on the other hand, had simply dug in with the gusto of a famished 6’5” teenager who was being fed well past the normal hour. The coach’s flight had been late, the fancy restaurant’s lobby full of diners cued up for a limited number of tables. While very tasty, the full-course meal certainly did not qualify as
fast
food either. And then the conversation among the adults had dragged on… and on… and on.

His parent’s reaction to the shindig had been predictable.

Mr. Chase had immediately bonded with Coach Covington, the two men discussing everything from UCLA’s famous winning streak, to Bobby Knight’s legendary, chair-throwing temper.

Jacob’s mother, on the other hand, had tried to steer the conversation in the direction of academic requirements and the expected behavior of her soon-to-be freshman son. Sandy had eventually given up, letting the men go on while Manny and she dissected everything from the other diners to the artwork adorning the walls that surrounded their table.