After inviting her inside, Austin found a chair for Erykah to sit in while I dialed Lisa's phone number.

"Hello?" said a trembling voice.

Hearing the sounds of wailing police sirens and someone sniffing in the background made my heart to twist into a series of complicated knots. I suspect that Lisa was in the Christian orphanage, probably talking to the cops about their new recruit going AWOL.

Clearing my throat, I responded: "Hi Lisa, it's me, Jack Cassidy. How are you?"

Slowly, I turn to Erykah, whose doe brown eyes were big as marbles.

Her arms were crossed in a nervous manner; Erykah's front teeth sank into her bottom lip as the color drained from her face. Sitting beside her in Austin, who leaned his back against the wooden desk. 

His white blonde hair draped over his eyes like spaghetti, prompting the artist to tuck it behind his ears. But the more Austin moved it, the more his natural locks popped out from his neck. Sighing, Austin wandered over to his backpack--which sat on his bed--rummage for a gray woolen hat and put it on his head.

In the meantime, I try to reassure Lisa through the phone. Patient and friendly, convincing her that Erykah is fine will be a breeze. However, since Joseph is hunting me down, I have decided to spend at least five minutes on Austin's cell talking to Lisa.

That way, the authorities couldn't track our location and throw us in prison--or, at least that is what people do in procedural cop shows.

"Hi, Lisa," I say kindly. "How are you?"

"I don't know," she wept. "I was going to the kitchen to make some lunch when I notice Erykah's bunk bed didn't have any of her belongings."

"Oh my God," I gasped, pretending to be shocked. "She ran away?"

"Yes." Lisa sobbed. "I have called the police, but they said they were preoccupied with some director's missing ashes."

"Calm down," I advise. "Don't worry about it, I will find Erykah and bring her home."

"Are you sure?" she inquired. "But--"

"It will be fine," I say in a reassuring manner. "As soon as I locate Erykah, I will let you know."

"Thank you, Jack." Lisa beamed. "You are such a good friend."

I smile. "No problem. Goodbye now."

Immediately, I hang up the phone, hand it back to Austin, and scowled menacingly in Erykah's direction.

"Are you fucking crazy?" I screeched. "Do you know how worried Lisa is?"

Erykah frowned.

"I don't like it there," she replied simply.

I angrily cross my arms.

"I don't care," I shot back. "you are going back to Brooklyn, and you are going to tell Lisa that you are sorry."

"Or what?" she challenged. "You're gonna call the police?"

I glared at Erykah with intense eyes but didn't say anything.

'"Oh, wait." she says in a mocking tone. "You can't, can you?"

"Leave her alone, " Austin growls, tightening his jaw. "You know, Jack is right: you should be heading back to New York."  

Immediately, Erykah's taunting grin vanished as she held up her hands in self-defense.

"Relax," she said calmly. "I am not going to narc on you, Austin."

Austin's angered face becomes conflicted with fear.

"The fuck does you know our names?" he shrilled.

Erykah shrugged. "I have seen your faces on the news. You two are wanted fugitives for stealing someone's ashes."

Austin's eyes bulged in shock. "Wait, what?"

Erykah nodded solemnly. 

"Yeah," she went on. "Apparently the cops and Warren figured out that Jack is involved in some kind of minor theft."

I approached her carefully. "What? Where? When?"

Erykah only flashed me a surprised stare.

"Have you guys seen the news?" she cried. "You two are world famous."

Startled by the news, Austin raised his eyebrow for a second. "What do you mean by 'world famous' ?"

Erykah grunted with exasperation.

Rather than putting it in her own words, she went over to the television set, switched it on, and flickered the channels until Erykah halted on a recent CNN news broadcast. In front of us, is an elderly news reporter talking to the audience about the information he has just received from the police. 

"According to my findings," he began. "Since the night of the late Australian director's heartbreaking funeral, there have been speculations as to where Elle Jones' ashes might have gone. However, these questions suddenly come to an end when Warren Cole--Elle Jones great grandson--has made a surprising discovery."

My heart sank when the camera turns to Warren Cole.

Tall, spoiled, and disdainful, the wealthy entrepreneur sat in a white chair—inches away from the interviewer.

Warren wears a three-piece gray suit, spotless black men's shoes, and apparently too much grease

"I remember there was this girl whose name I do not know, confronted me about my decisions of making my great grandmother's ashes into a public display."

"Oh, really?" said the interviewer. "And why would she do that?"

Warren shrugged his shoulders. "I have absolutely no idea. Obviously, the girl is delusional."

I clench my fist in anger.

That lying sleaze, I thought. He knows exactly why I stole the ashes.

Even the withered male interviewer widens his eyes at Warren's statement.

"Why, Warren," said the reporter. "I am sure she has a point. There has been an interview about Elle Jones wishing she could have her ashes pour into the Tasman Sea--"

Warren rudely interrupts him.

"That is not the point, " he snarled, "the point is I want the girl found, tried, and arrested for her misdeeds. Who knows what she had done with the ashes. Probably sold them for drugs, no doubt."

"And what about the boy?" implied the interviewer.

Shoveling some papers, the old man squints his eyes at the print then recited: "Austin Jing-Sheng Hale?"

Erykah and I both glanced at Austin, who boredly replied: "It means, 'city born' in Chinese."

Erykah blinked at him for a moment. "You're Chinese?"

"No, I am a Vietnamese American," answered Austin. "My grandfather was Chinese, but my grandmother, on the other hand, was born in Vietnam."

"One of my moms is from Vietnam and the other is white."

"You have two moms?"

"No, I am related to Dr. Phil," Austin replied sarcastically.

Annoyed by the conversation in the background, I turned up the volume a little so I can listen to the news.

"The boy must be one of her accomplices," Warren claimed in a cocky tone. "According to the police, the boy is artistic, loved by a queer community, when he suddenly vanished into thin air."

Meanwhile, Austin, who was glaring at the screen, balled his hands into enraged fists. 

"Fuck you, hypocrite." he snarled at the television. "My name is Austin, not 'the boy'."

Even the reporter's face contorts. "Funny," he snorts, "because his mothers claim Austin to be an innocent boy."

Warren Cole rolls his eyes. "Every mother claims that their children are innocent, but deep down they are manipulative, shallow, and greedy."

"So are you saying that children are bad people?"

Warren shrugs his shoulders. "Mothers have no control of their behavior no matter what they do—"

He cut off mid-sentence when I instantly switched off the TV with the remote, tossed it on my bed, and groaned.

Curious, Erykah looked at me again, but this time she didn't ask any questions.

"What's wrong, Jack?" asked Austin.

"Everyone thinks that we are dangerous criminals," I said to him. "That's what's wrong."

"Oh my God, really?" he pretending to be surprised. "For a minute, I thought we were being nominated for an Emmy award."

Erykah snickered, whilst I roll my eyes. "Can you keep your witty remarks to yourself ?"

 "What?" he frowned. "I thought it was funny."

"It's not funny."

"It's kinda funny," confessed Erykah.

Soon afterward, she asked me a couple of questions: "Why did you steal Elle Jones' ashes?"

Toying with my dreadlocks, I did a sigh: "I am trying to honor her memory."

The fifteen-year-old girl raised both of her eyebrows. "What?"

Sighing again, I tried to rephrase my words: "The only reason why I stole Elle Jones' ash jar is that I want to give her a proper burial. That's all."

Erykah gives me a puzzled look. "What do you mean by a 'proper burial' ?" 

"I was trying to convince Warren to throw her ashes in the Tasman Sea, but he is a stubborn asshole." 

"He truly is." Austin nodded in agreement. 

"So, after my confrontation, I tried to apologize to him until I found Elle's ashes in the middle of the park."

"Really?"

I nod quietly. "I thought it was wrong for Warren to abandon Elle's ashes; so, I thought I could travel to Australia, make a short movie with Austin, and then dump the ashes in the Tasman Sea."

"But apparently, Warren is holding a grudge."

When I was finished with my story, Erykah nodded in an understanding way.

"So, all you ever wanted to do was to honor some dead director?"

I set my jaw. "Elle Jones is not some dead director. She inspired many women and people of color to take a stand against abuse."

"I know, " Erykah says calmly. "But don't you think this plan is a little too extreme?"

"Coming from the girl who ran away from a good Christian orphanage." I retorted. 

The fifteen-year-old twists her face as if she smelled something rotten.

"Touché." she mutters underneath her breath.

Then turning her face to meet Austin's eyes, Erykah asked why he was an accomplice to my devious crime in the first place. 

"I have been friends with Jack since we were kids," he explained, chuckling. "Getting in trouble is one of my specialties."

I rolled my eyes in annoyance. "Yeah right."

Austin casts a sideways glance in my direction.

"What's going on with you?"

"Nothing, " I lied, roaming towards my bed and sitting down very quietly. 

A black knotted dreadlock fell on my shoulder, but I softly tucked it behind my left ear. In the meantime, my hands started shaking like shivering leaves in cold winter. 

Witnessing my depressed state, Austin sluggishly walked over to me, sit on the other side of my bed, then reassured me that everything is going to be okay.

Snorting in disbelief, I swerve my head in his direction.

"Everything is going to be okay?" I repeat bitterly. "Are you serious?"

"Just because I am sarcastic doesn't mean I have opinions," Austin grumbled. 

I scoff at this. "No, because I don't believe in what you are saying."

Erykah removes herself from the chair and approached me with a cheerful grin. 

"Don't talk like that, Jack," she reassured. "I think your movie is going to be a great success."

I shake my head furiously. 

"What if this movie is going to be a piece of shit?" I moaned. "What if the police found us hiding in Australia?"

Scooting close to me, Austin gently puts his arm around me and leaned his head against my right shoulder.

"Hey," he says in a soft voice. "We are going to film this movie together, Jack. 

"But we haven't started writing our scripts yet."

The fifteen-year-old girl grinned, jerking both her thumbs towards her. "Leave it to me, guys."

I flash her a quizzical look. "Are you sure?"

Erykah nodded again. "Yeah, I mean scripts are like writing stories. And besides my mom is an amazing actress and a singer. So, where do I start?"

Reluctantly, Austin reaches into his notebook, pulls out a couple of pens, and hands them to Erykah.

"Here, " he sighs. "Take all the time you need."

Delighted to become a part of the group, Erykah took the items, rushed over to her wooden desk, and began to write her story.

As I watch Erykah working, I lean over to Austin then whispered: "I am not so sure about if we should tag her along."

"Well, we do need someone who can write good scripts as well as we do," Austin replies, scratching the back of his head.

"What if Lisa finds out that Erykah is with us?" I ask in a hushed whisper.

"Jesus Christ, the reason why I sent her to the Christian home is that didn't want to put her in danger."

Austin glances up to see Erykah happily writing down the script for our movie.  

He can see that her posture is relaxed, her cheeks blossomed into the shade of deep crimson, and her shoes tapped against the floor excitedly.

Shaking his head in disagreement, Austin states:  "I don't think she really needs our protection, Jack. Erykah needs someone she can trust."

"Oh come on Austin, " I say in a disbelieving tone. "Erykah could make friends with those girls at the orphanage—"

"Really?" he scoffed. "You think she'd ever fit in with self-achieving perfectionists? I remember when you were her age, you never had any girlfriends."

That part was true; growing up, I was bullied constantly by the girls. Some taunted the way my afro looks, while others commented on how dark my skin is. 

I know, racist huh?

But luckily, I didn't make an effort to pick a fight with those girls. I only did my schoolwork, listened to the teacher, and ate in the library.

However, days after Isadora left the family, a girl with pigtails had the audacity to lean in my ear and told me that my mother is a crack whore.

Furious,  I yank her by the pigtails very hard and threaten to punch her in the face if she ever called Isadora that word.

After my confrontation, I got sent to the principal's office, had a long talk about respecting my classmates, and gave me detention two weeks.

And if I ever gave him a pathetic excuse, the principal would triple my punishment, causing a dent on my perfect school record.

Even though I hated detention, I was free from all the taunts, torments, and racist remarks.

In fact, since the moment I yanked that girl by the pigtails, none of the kids at school harassed me ever again.

Glancing at Erykah from a distance, Austin suggests that we should keep her around for a while.

"I don't know."

"She could be helpful." he insisted.

"She could snitch on us when we are not even looking." I reminded.

"So far, we haven't gotten started on our movie, " Austin sighed. "Hell, I am starting to think that adapting my drawings is a waste of time."

"We need something good to work with—like a good introduction or something."

"And what if we can't?" I ask.

"We will come up with the best introduction," Austin urged.

"Besides, we could even find some people to work with."

"Like a cast?" I groaned. "How are we ever going to convince people to help us make a movie? I mean, hello, we are wanted criminals."

But Austin flashed me an optimistic smile.

"Let's figure it out tomorrow, Jack." he said,
"We got plenty of time to make our movie before the due date." 

Stretching his arms out, he began to yawn.

"And besides, " said Austin. "I have been driving all the way to the airport, and yet I smell like cow shit."

I snort a laugh, picking up traces of sweat and dirt from his clothes.

"My God, " I said, covering my nose. "You do smell terrible."

Austin lifts himself off my bed and did a mock bow.

"Thank you, ma'am, " he said politely. "And you smell like a decaying zombie."

As a result, I grabbed a pillow off the mattress then tossed it at his head, causing Austin to duck as the pillow flew over his head and onto the drab walls.

"Ha, you suck throwing things." Austin remarked.

"So?" I ask coolly.

"So, that was uncalled for."

"It's sweet revenge, " I responded playfully.

Rolling his eyes, Austin picks up his backpack from his hotel bed, and marched over to the bathroom.

"I am going to take a shower, " he said, heading over to the bathroom. 

"If I don't come out, please tell my moms I love them dearly."

"Okay." I grin. "Have fun in the shower."

"Excelsior." 

After opening the bathroom door, my best friend walked inside and shut the entrance behind him.