At Rope's End (A Dr. James Verraday Mystery #1)(27)

“Hey, it’s Penny. Still haven’t heard back from you about next week. Let me know if we’re on for dinner, okay?”

Penny was one of the few people he knew who still relied on actual phone calls instead of e-mail or texting. He dialed her number.

She picked up after the fourth ring.

“Hey James,” she answered. “Just a sec, okay?”

She paused for a moment. He could hear rustling in the background on her end of the call. She sounded like she was in the middle of doing something. That was typical of Penny, who was a perpetual-motion machine when she wasn’t asleep or meditating. He wondered if her constant activity was because of her physical handicap or in spite of it.

“Okay, I’m back. How you doing?” she asked cheerfully.

“Just calling to confirm dinner next week.”

He heard more rustling of paper.

“What’s all that noise in the background?” he asked. “Sounds like a giant hamster.”

Penny laughed. “Sorry, I was just opening up a package when you called. I’ll put it down ’til we’re done. I was just kind of curious to see what was in it.”

“Now I’m curious to know too,” he said. “What kind of stuff?”

“Looks like a pair of welder’s goggles and a top hat. But never mind.”

“Wait, you can’t follow the words ‘welder’s goggles and a top hat’ with ‘never mind.’ I want to hear about this.”

“I’m going to a steampunk convention in Vancouver next weekend. I’m cosplaying Kenneth Branagh’s version of Doctor Loveless from Wild Wild West. I’m getting my costume together. You should see what I’m doing to my wheelchair. I built a smokestack for it and I’ve got a little dry ice compartment so it will actually look like steam is coming out of the pipe. I’m going to blow everybody’s mind when I roll in.”

Penny never disappointed him. She always had something up her sleeve.

“I didn’t know you were into steampunk,” said Verraday.

“One of my clients turned me on to it. They’re a really fun bunch.”

“Is this the ‘neat thing’ you said I might be interested in?”

“Yes. You should come along with me. Some of those steampunk cosplay girls are super cute. Maybe you could meet someone.”

“I’d love to, but I can’t.”

“Now you sound like Dad.”

That stopped him in his tracks. Did he sound like their father, always backing away from life instead of engaging with it? Ever since the accident that had killed their mother, their father had become withdrawn, even from his own children.

“You’re a good-looking guy,” Penny continued. “I could picture you in a zeppelin commander’s outfit, or maybe more of a secret agent look: you know, Dalton Huxley, Chronomic Regulator.”

“Can’t say I’m familiar with that Mr. Huxley or with chronomic regulation,” said Verraday with a trace of sarcasm.

Penny was undaunted. “Well, it’s a Callahan frock coat, some double-row front-button trousers, a gambler hat. And a chronomic regulator.”

“Chronomic regulator?”

“Looks sort of like a blunderbuss, except it’s brass with vacuum tubes and it fires time-adjustment rays instead of bullets.”

“You waited all this time to tell me about time-adjustment rays?”

Penny laughed. “It looks sharp, I’m telling you. Those steampunk girls would go nuts over you.”

His first impulse was to dismiss Penny’s idea as ridiculous. Then it hit him that that’s exactly how their father would have reacted to anything that bore even the remotest suggestion of fun.

“Sounds good, but I’ve got to work on the midterm exam over the weekend. I don’t want to give the students the same old crap the department’s been recycling for the last ten years.”

“Oh come on, James, have some fun. Twenty years from now, what are you going to care about more? Having created the bitchin’est psychology midterm exam in the history of U Dub, or making some cool friends and maybe meeting a nice girl who looks like Lady Mechanika.”

Verraday had no idea who Lady Mechanika was, but whoever she was, she was probably a hell of a lot more fun than working on a midterm exam. Then he thought about Maclean and his promise to help her. He was beginning to regret having said yes.

“Honestly, I’d love to come, but I also promised someone I’d help them with something, and they’ll probably need me this weekend.”

“Is it really that important?”

“Yes. I’ll tell you when I see you, okay?”

“Is she good-looking?”

“Yes, but it’s not that kind of thing.”

“There’s no such thing as not that kind of thing.”

“Will you stop?”

“All right. So are we still on for dinner next week? You’re not going to bail on me, are you?”

“No. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Great. Because I’ve got a new personal mobility device. I want you to see it.”

He was a bit surprised that Penny was so excited about something as mundane as an electric buggy to get around in. But he guessed that if you didn’t have the use of your legs, anything that removed a barrier would be exciting. Penny still played wheelchair basketball—aggressively. So instead of expressing his surprise, he just said, “Sure. I’d like to see it.”