Thirty-One Hundred Chance (chapter 1)

“Goodbye, Thomas!” Mrs. Merriworth sang, hugging her eight-year-old son. “Bye, mother,” he smiled through her graying dark brown strands of hair. She picked up her bags and headed over to the door by her husband who was reminding Brody of everything that should be done while the couple was gone.

“I know, Mr. Merriworth,” Brody sighed, “He is to finish all his vegetables at dinner. I’ll make sure he doesn’t feed them to the dog.”

“Yes, Broderick, and don’t forget--” Mr. Merriworth started.

“Bedtime is eight o’clock sharp, correct?” Brody smirked, “I’ll give him a bath-- with the yellow bottle of vanilla-scented bubble bath-- and make sure he brushes his teeth for two full minutes and changes into his red-striped pajamas.”

“Yes,” Mr. Merriworth peeped, “And--”

“AND, the trash must be pulled and sat at the curb by Thursday night,” Brody added, “Plus, I am to mop the hardwood twice weekly, and vacuum the carpet daily.”

“Brilliant,” Mr. Merriworth muttered, “But--”

“BUT, I shall order Tommy to do his own chores,” Brody nodded, “Such as picking up his playthings, and taking Rover for a walk thrice daily: once at nine in the morning, once at one PM, and once at five in the evening.”

“Good memory,” Mr. Merriworth smirked, “But, I think I forgot to tell you that--”

“THAT a parcel is scheduled to be delivered Tuesday at Noon sharp? Yes. I will make sure that we are at home waiting by the door to sign for the package. Then, I’ll carry the heavy box into the garage and won’t touch it again at all after that.”

Mr. Merriworth exhaled.

“You and your wife have fun, now,” Brody smiled, “Don’t worry about Tommy. I’ve got everything under control.”

“Be good to Mister Broderick, okay? We’ll be back in a month” Mrs. Merriworth said, smudging her lipstick on Tommy’s puffy cheek one last time. “I will, mom,” he growled playfully, rubbing the unwanted kiss back off on her yellow sundress. The couple-- and their luggage-- slowly but surely inched their way through the door, onto the porch, and down the walk into the driveway. “Love you, Thomas!” Mrs. Merriworth shouted as her husband opened the red convertible’s passenger door for her. Brody and Tommy waved from inside as the engine started, and watched the couple until they drove out of sight. “Okay, Tommy,” Brody breathed, closing the door, “What would you like to do?” “Well, Mr. Broderick,” Tommy started, Whatever my father has planned, sir. “Okay,” Brody winced, “But, first, two rules.” Tommy stared at his sitter in full concentration. “Rule number one: No ’sir’s, and definitely, no ’Broderick’s,” the babysitter shuddered, “Please. Call me Brody.” Tommy nodded. “Number two,” Brody continued, “There are no other rules.” “Whatever do you mean, Mr. Brody?” Tommy gaped in confusion. “That’s-- better,” Brody laughed, “But, I don’t prefer Mr. unless you’re calling me Mr. Fun.” “Mr. Fun?” Tommy blinked. “You’ll see,” Brody smirked, “Welcome to your best month ever.”

Brody was happy. He was paid-- in advance-- one hundred dollars a day for a whole month to sit around in a millionaire’s fancy mansion doing whatever he wanted to do (and NOT doing whatever he DIDN’T want to do). Though he did have their little son to “take care of”, truthfully, Tommy was pretty much self-maintained. The pantries were stocked with weeks worth of food, and Brody let him know that he could do as he pleased-- so long as he promised to tell his father that they had actually stuck to the rules as planned. “It’s not quite ‘lying’, you know,” Brody explained from the center seat of the couch, chewing on his ninth marshmallow, “More like, stretching the truth a bit. Understand?” Tommy nodded from Brody’s right, cheeks even puffier due to his fifteenth and sixteenth marshmallows. ”You DID finish your vegetables, didn’t you?” Brody asked. “Of course,” Tommy giggled, “You only gave me three tiny peas.” “Exactly,” Brody grinned, “And, did you feed anything to the dog?” Rover barked from his seat at Brody’s left. “No,” Tommy smiled, “You did.” “Good boys,” Brody smirked, patting both the boy and the dog on their heads at once.

On Sunday, Brody took Tommy to church. Afterward, they gathered Rover and all enjoyed a trip to the park. Later, they settled in with pizza delivery at home.

On Monday, Brody let Tommy sleep in, let Rover stay out, and let himself have a blast on the high-speed wifi. Later, they ate pizza delivery for brunch/dinner.

On Tuesday, Brody and Tommy played video games from dawn ’til dusk-- pausing only at noon when the doorbell rang. “Blast it! Get ’em! Wait-- Did you order more pizza?” Tommy asked through the sounds of eight-bit lasers and bombs. “No? I don’t think-- Darn it! I’m running out of rocket fuel!” Brody grunted, “Hold on! I think it’s the package your father told us about. Cover me!” The sitter’s remote bounced onto the leather sofa as Tommy continued blasting the space goons.

“Package for… Mrs. Grant-Merriworth?” The post woman heaved, “This box sure is heavy.” “Yes, ma’am,” Brody whistled, signing the pad and receiving the parcel, “Thanks a lot! Have a nice day.” “You too,” she sighed, climbing into her vehicle. Brody turned inside, kicking the door closed. “What on earth did your dad order?” he strained, “Bowling balls or something?” “Beats me,” Tommy shrugged from the couch as Brody walked the two-by-two-by one-foot square box into the garage.

Inside, everything was neat. Tool shelves lined the walls, bright lights were built into the ceiling, and three tables stood, each painted a beautiful shade of seafoam green. Despite all mentioned, there was still enough room left for at least four vehicles. Desperate to alleviate himself from the heavy burden, Brody pushed his wonder aside and dropped the box on one of the green tables with a thud. Then, he switched off the light and ran back to the living room. “Quick!” Tommy yelled, ”I can’t hold ‘em off much longer!” “I’m comin’ bro!” Brody yelled, plopping down on the couch beside him.

The first week flew by without a hitch. At last, it was Friday night-- well, midnight Saturday-- and Brody decided to finally tuck Tommy in. “Are you sure you want to sleep in the bed tonight?” he asked the boy, “You know it’s okay if we fall asleep on the couch playing video games again.” “Thanks,” Tommy smiled,” You really are Mr. Fun, but, you know I need my rest…” Brody nodded. “...because I wouldn’t want to miss my Saturday morning cartoon marathon, right, Brody?!” The babysitter laughed and fluffed Tommy’s floppy blonde hair. “Good one, Tom. Now, get some sleep, okay?” He arose and headed towards the door. “Brody?” Tommy called. “Yes?” he answered. “Could you-- sit in here with me, please?” Brody looked at his new friend and smiled. “Sure, kid,” he said, taking a seat on the floor beside the boy’s bed. The two drifted off to sleep faster than either of them could realize.

In a few minutes, Brody awakened to a strange bump that seemed to come from downstairs. Regaining consciousness, the young man stood quickly. “Tommy?” He breathed. Glancing down, he noticed that the boy was still asleep. “Rover?” his voice trembled as his eyes met the snoozing dog curled up at the foot of the bed. “Maybe it was a dream,” Brody whispered to himself. But, just before the last word could leave his lips, a clinking sound was heard. Brody’s heart jumped as he scanned the room for an object to use for self-defense. “Out of all the months in the year to rob a billionaire’s house, you chose August when I’m here babysitting?” he whispered satirically. Tommy’s baseball bat quickly caught his eye. Holding the metal club out in front of him, Brody quietly inched out of the bedroom. “Hello?” he mouthed, tiptoeing down the steps, “Anyone there?” Reaching the first floor, Brody scanned the area. The front door was closed. No glass was broken. The living room blinds were still parted, and the hall light was on. “Did I forget to turn off the lamp and close the blinds?” he asked himself. Creeping into the kitchen, he noticed the cookie dough spilled generously over the countertop, and the crumbs scattered over the floor. Now, that, he remembered leaving there. All seemed serene. Partially at ease, Brody’s shoulders relaxed, but his fists held tight to the steel. A sudden thirst crept up his throat, “This is too much,” he murmured, reaching for the fridge door handle “I need a--” feeling movement behind him, Brody held his breath and turned on his heels in fear. “Arf?” Rover barked, staring directly into his eyes. “Boy! Don’t DO that!” Brody laughed nervously, “You scared the crap out of me, dude!” Resting his back against the refrigerator, he closed his eyes to catch his breath. Just then, he heard a loud boom and clank. His eyes flashed open, and the bat rose to his right shoulder. Rover, suddenly alert, glanced towards the door. The sound of a car starting rang out from the driveway. Brody and Rover ran as fast as they could to the living room but, just as soon, an engine could be heard speeding off. “Far out,” Brody shivered, collapsing on the couch with the dog.

“Brody!” Tommy yelled, patting his sitter’s face, “You’re gonna miss the cartoons!” Brody awakened to see Tommy and Rover staring at him. “Why are you down here on the couch?” the boy asked, “And, what are you doing with my baseball bat?” Brody glanced at the bat he was hugging like a teddy bear. “What?” he coughed, throwing it to the ground, “No idea. I guess I had a weird dream.” “I won’t ask,” Tommy dragged, “We’re missing the best show.” Rover followed the boy to the kitchen where he sat at the tallest bar stool, overfilling his shallow bowl with colorful cereal flakes. “Easy, boy!” Brody grinned as he walked into the kitchen, “You’re not gonna have enough room for sugar and sprinkles.” “Oh, yeah. I forgot,” Tommy gasped, hopping down from the stool. He returned with sugar, sprinkles, and chocolate milk from the fridge. Feeling a little less festive, Brody fetched a plain slice of wheat bread and the carton of orange juice. “Looks like my dad’s car,” Tommy noted proudly as a commercial aired advertising a red convertible for lease. “Looks kinda like it,” Brody acknowledged, gulping juice straight out of the carton, “but your dad’s is way fancier and much more expensive.” “Oh,” Tommy murmured, shoving an unhealthy spoonful of “breakfast” in his mouth. Brody glanced down at his phone. His friend’s timelines were chock full of cool stuff they were doing without him. He almost felt left out until he remembered that his wallet was chock full of cool cash he was earning without them. Even still, he should have been out there having fun.

@GavinTheMan: Concert last night in the park was awesome! Enjoying fun time with my #gf @Bailey2Cute and the rest of my #bffs @PerryFlossin @Cara4eva @WesleyDabz. #OldManBrody he never does stuff with us anymore

@Cara4eva: You guys are totally going to the beach today, right? #Weatherman says it’s the #LongestDayofSummer. Let’s soak it up! @PerryFlossin @GavinTheMan @Bailey2Cute @WesleyDabz @BrodyBear #WhyTagBrodyHeWontCome

@BrodyBear: I might come. You don’t know!

@WesleyDabz: Yeah right, bro. Never in a million years. #AndEvenThenNo

@BrodyBear: How much u wanna bet?

@PerryFlossin: I can totes feel ur fumes thru the screen, man #ChillOut.

@Bailey2Cute: He has an important job. He’s a sixteen y/o man. Leave him alone.

@GavinTheMan: lol as if. Don’t be fooled. We all have summer jobs. He’s just lazy.

@BrodyBear: Am NOT.

@GavinTheMan: Are too.

@BrodyBear: Just shut your face. I’ll be there. U pay up.

@GavinTheMan: #YeahRight

“Wacky the Wacko is so funny!” Tommy squealed with laughter, “You’re missing it!” Brody pouted. “I’m bored,” he whined, “We haven’t been out of the house since Sunday. How about we take a little outing today?” “Sounds-- dope.” Tommy smiled. “It’s gonna be outdoors,” Brody warned, “So after Wacky the Wacko, I need to turn it on the news to check the weather, okay?” “Alright!” Tommy bubbled, slurping up his chocolatey swirly rainbow milk.

@BrodyBear: #YoullSee

@GavinTheMan: I sure will

@Bailey2Cute: Seriously! @Everybody #Chill!!!!

Whimsical music commenced as the cartoon’s credits began to roll. “Wasn’t that funny?” Tommy asked, “Another episode’s coming on.” “Haha,” Brody mocked, changing the channel, “Now, you know what time it is.” “Yay. News time,” Tommy spat, “What happened to Mr. Fun? Now, you’re worst than my dad.” Brody paid no mind. His ear was in the television. “…and tonight is a record low for this time of year. One degree below average,” the meteorologist boasted, “More weather in about seven minutes. Back to you, Brenda.” “Thanks, Chad,” she nodded, “Now, we have some breaking news straight from Lake Hadroy. A red convertible was found in the water this morning...” ”Now that one really does look just like my dad’s car,” Tommy smiled. “Yeah,” Brody mouthed nervously. “...before that car was pulled from the lake,” Brenda continued, “A woman was found in the water...” “Tommy!” Brody gasped as the boy looked up from his breakfast, “Go brush your teeth!” “Now?” Tommy asked, “But, I’m not done yet!” “Just go!” Brody insisted angrily. “Fine, killjoy!” Tommy grunted, shoving himself away from the kitchen bar, “I knew Mr. Fun wouldn’t last.” “...After authorities responded to several reports of what appeared to be a body floating in the lake,” Brenda continued as Tommy stormed out of the room, “Search and rescue crews recovered the five-foot-two middle-aged Caucasian woman with dark brown graying hair. She was wearing a light yellow sundress...” “Mrs. Merriworth?” Brody gulped covering his mouth. “...no identification was found on her person or in the car,” Brenda stated, “Now, we are unsure of exactly when this incident occurred, and to whether or not drugs and alcohol were involved. Investigators will continue searching for clues and notify us of the latest. Steven?” “Thank you, Brenda,” Steven smiled, “On a lighter note, if you like hot dogs, we’re going over to the Family Dine-In where, today, they’re giving some away free. Isn’t that right, Loretta?” “That’s right, Steve--”

Brody turned off the television. “Oh. My. God.”