A Chapter by Kim Possible

            “Hey, girlie.  You’re up.”

            “Is that how you speak to someone who so cleverly-

            “Enough talking.  Go home!”

            “Will do.  My stuff?”

            “Waiting by the door.”

            “It’s been a blast, Boris.  Same time next week?”

            “Don’t come back.”

            “Aw, c’mon, baby.  Don’t be like that.”


            The girl laughed as she made her way to the front desk.

            “I’m here for my stuff.”

            “You are…”

            “Aren’t you all supposed to be in cahoots?  How many of us do you let out at once?  Is that standard protocol?”

            “Morgan McCall.”

            “Jeepers!  How’d you know?”

            The officer handed her a bag with her things in it.

            “It’s been real.”


            The voice made her snatch her bag and virtually barreled for the door.

            “Stop, Morgan!”

            She stopped and turned to face the man.  “What, Uncle P?”

            “Don’t get arrested again.”

            “Ah, whatever.  They didn’t have anything.  They couldn’t even find my car for I strategically placed it in an unknown area.  I had to move hell and the Milky Way to find that spot.”

            “Stop racing.”

            “I don’t!  I watch, wait for the cops to come and then I have fun making them look like idiots.  Making you look like an idiot in your factory made police cars.  You wanna know what’s ironic?”

            He waited.

            “It’s your fault I’m into cars.  I gotta go.”

            She stepped onto the stairs outside the police station.  It was beautiful windy day out and it played with her black just passed her shoulders hair.  Her odd blue eyes stood out against her brown skin.  The blue in her hair made her eyes stand out even more.  She looked different and guys liked that.

            “Get a move on, Morgan.”

            She had a long walk ahead of her.


            About a mile from her car in the middle of nowhere, her phone rang.

            “Yeah, Melly.”

            “Where are you?”

            “I’m getting my car.”

            “How long you gonna be?”

            “What is it, little sister?”

            “There’s a surprise waiting for you when you get home.  Not a good one either.”

            “I’ve already been arrested.”


            “Mom’s coming.”

            “I’ll be home soon.  Thanks for the warning.”

            “No problem, Mo.

            Morgan jogged the last of the mile and raced home.

            When she opened the front door she tripped over the luggage in the hallway.



            Melanie came hurdling around the corner.

            “It was a long night.”

            “For you and me both, Melly.  What’s this all about?  I almost died because of these bags.”

            “This is about your behavior.”

            She looked over Melanie into her mother’s steely blue eyes.

            “My behavior?”

            “The trouble in school, the fighting which you didn’t know I knew about and now you’ve finally been arrested.”

            “It won’t happen again, believe it.  I can guarantee that.”

            “I can too because you won’t be here.”


            She held out a plane ticket, “You know how much you love your father so much?”

            “He’s in New York.  Melly’s here.”

            “I can’t handle you.  Maybe you’ll do better for him.”

            “No!  You can’t send me away.  I’ll do better.”

            “I’ve heard that before.”

            Morgan picked up the duffel and flung it into the living room table, breaking two vases.

            “See what I mean?!  As long as you have that temper you’ll get into trouble.”

            “What temper?”

            “Don’t kid yourself.”

            “What about my car?”

            “Your father’s sending for it.”


            Then she heard the tow truck outside.

            “My car.”

            She ran out of the house.

            “Dude!  That car is worth more than your yearly salary.  Careful!  Don’t just drop him, he’s a delicate creature.”

            She walked over to the car and placed her hand on the side mirror.

            “Don’t worry, B-Rabbit.  It’ll be okay.  I won’t let anything happen to you.  You hear me?”

            “It’s a car!” her mother shouted from the doorway.

            She ignored her.  “I’ll know,” she said to the trucker.

            When he’d gone she went back inside.

            “I guess I have no choice.  Where he goes, I go.”

            “You leave in the morning.  Your car should be there waiting at the airport when you land.”

            She snatched the ticket and walked away, “It better be.

© 2010 Kim Possible

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Added on October 4, 2010
Last Updated on October 4, 2010


Kim Possible
Kim Possible

Chicago, IL

What defines me is not what I can tell you, but the things I can't. Know the things I cannot tell, and you'll find you know me more..