Trouble Don't (File Two of The First Responders Files)

Chapter Four

The ice storm ends with TK's life in the balance, Grace missing, and three helicopter siblings in New York really needing drinks. Oh, and something is developing in Chicago, too.

Enjoy all but the end of "Push!"

***

"Ah ah ah!" TK yelped when his hand was batted away from the cookies on the rack. "Do you remember nothing, young man?" Munch shook his head and clicked his tongue. "Let the cookies cool so you don't burn your tongue . . . like that one Purim you tried to eat the hamantaschen right out of the oven."

TK grimaced at the memory. "That was when I was, like, nine."

"Uh huh," Mouch nodded. "And you couldn't taste anything for a week."

"That's not true," TK denied. "It was two weeks . . . and everything tasted like hair."

"My mistake," Munch deadpanned. TK snickered and went back to tracing the rim of his milk glass. "Have you thought about going back to temple?"

"I don't know," TK shrugged. "It's just been so long. It would . . . it would be weird now."

"Well, it might be good for you," Munch advised. "You know, get back in touch with that part of yourself, now more than ever."

"I'll think about it, OK?" TK sighed.

"I guess that's better than 'no,'" Munch rolled his eyes. "You're just buttering me up to finally have one of these, aren't you?"

TK fidgeted on his chair. "Maybe."

Munch sighed dramatically as he checked his watch. "Alright, fine."

"Yes!" TK cheered and reached out to immediately snatch a cookie from the rack. He eagerly bit into it and sighed in delight. "Oh, wow!"

"Pretty good, huh?" Munch grinned.

"'Pretty good?'" TK parroted. "That is the best cookie I've ever had in my life."

"And the best part is it's calorie-free," Munch nodded.

"What?" TK looked at him in confusion. "How?"

"Easy," Munch folded his hands in his lap and gave TK a pointed look. "They don't exist."

Suddenly the cookie tasted like ash in his mouth, and TK swallowed hard. "Uncle Munch . . . am I dead?"

"No," Munch shook his head. "No, son, you aren't dead."

" . . . are you?"

Munch shook his head. "Tyler, I'm not even here."

"How am I talking to you, then?" TK challenged.

"Because apparently, I'm the only one you could think of that could be the one to get this idea through that thick Strand skull of yours."

TK narrowed his eyes. "Get what through my head?"

Munch leaned forward, hawk-like eyes narrowing behind his glasses. "Stop dying."

***

"Am I the world's biggest schmuck?"

Carlos's abrupt question made the five remaining outside TK's room look up in unison. "What?" Sylvie asked blearily as she rubbed her red eyes.

"I'm holding vigil for a man who doesn't even want me in his life," Carlos huffed. "Doesn't that just scream schmuck?"

"Hell to the no," Nancy scoffed. "First of all, TK loves you. And second . . . where did you pick up schmuck?"