Tai, FBI
© 2000 Alicia


Epilogue
You know how sometimes you build up all this anticipation for something and then no matter how wonderful -or not- the actual event is, you feel totally let down afterwards? That’s one of the worst feelings in the word. It’s also why I don’t look forward to birthdays at all anymore. Christmas is cool, though, because it’s more about giving to other people than yourself. Whenever one of my birthdays come around, I try not to think on it too hard. How weird is that? Lately I’ve been thinking, if I ever get married (and as a girl gets older she thinks about that kind of thing a little more as a possibility than as one of those “some people do that” things), I would hate to have that whole anticipation/disappointment syndrom. You know, plan a big wedding, get way nervous, just before the fact, and there you are, starting the rest of your life already feeling let down. The very idea gives me the shudders. Maybe my friend Sami has the right idea in wanting to elope. Only I want a big receptions so I can make sure to get presents. And have all the family there.
Anyway, this birthday I’m having a harder time trying to ignore the hoop-la. When you turn 18 you have like a billion other things to look forward to....or not look forward to, as the case may go. Besides, you’re officially becoming an adult and trying to decide if you want to become an official FBI agent.... Okay, that part’s a little unusual. Plus you have to be thinking about who you’re going to vote for in the next elections, now that you’re a legal voter, right? I mean, okay, that’s important to me. Civic duty and all.
Add to all that that I was STILL kind of feeling a low mood swing since my brush with superspy status (well, sort of) with the city hall bomb sting a couple months ago...all in all, it was a trying time for me. My parents were the only ones that knew about my part in the capture of the bomber. Of course, no one had ever known about my family being registered civilian FBI informants, but I bet if we WEREN’T, people would have heard about my saving the day and all. But then I wouldn’t have been in a position to save the day if I weren’t involved with the FBI agents in the ch arge. It was a vicious circle, you know?
It had never bothered me before, no one knowing our secret job. I don’t consider myself a glory-hound exactly, and I like doing my share of anonymous favors, but see, all this never seemed like that big a deal before what happened. Our little secret had become the Secret, with a capital “S”. And I hadn’t done a thing with my little job since then. My life was boring again. Not that I had thought the whole deal was so exciting at the time it happened. Which was just the problem. Switching in and out of adventure mode is no easy thing. I think I was kind of hard to live with for a month or so after the whole deal went down. Watching all the James Bond, Mission: Impossible and Man from U.N.C.L.E. (Girl too...I don’t even like Stephanie Powers!) movies I would get my hands on just wasn’t cutting it.
Unfortunately, the immanent arrival of my 18th birthday did not help things. Turning 18 is scary as it is, frankly. Ew, frankly. Makes me think of the criminal, Frankle. (See what I mean?) But anyways.
My good friend Sami -the one that would probably end up having a huge wedding some day despite insisting that she wanted nothing more than a white chapel in Vegas with an Elvis impersonator giving her away- was coming to help me celebrate my birthday. You’ve probably already guessed that my family has moved around a lot. Well, you were wrong. We’re actually supposed to put down roots so we’ll have connections when the department needs information. Several years back, it got a little “hot” for us in the town we were living in at the time and we ended up having to move. I guess we were a lot of help to the FBI in that town, I don’t remember real well. Sami and I were best friends when we lived there. We totally grew apart when we left, but then we hooked back up online and somehow became best buds again. We see each other when w can now. Sam was flying in the weekend before my birthday and I was actually pretty excited. Besides, I was meeting her at the airport all by myself. That’s pretty cool itself. (Hey, I’m not THAT old.)
I have seen quite a lot of airports. Big city airports can be a scary thing, practically a city in and of itself. Sort of like high school. Or...any school. I like our city’s airport, though. It’s compact and fairly well organized. Almost like the designer actually knew what the buildings were going to be used for. I hadn’t seen Sami for a year or so. I hadn’t missed her. Hey, we write e-mail to each other several times a day. When she walked out of her loading gate, she didn’t look like the computer screen (and lots of typing) that I normally associated with “Samantha”, however. Actually, she looked great. As I gave her one of those big reunion hugs that are so fun to watch (and, by the way, it’s a pre-requisite to say something like “it’s so GOOD to see you!” along with them), I was reminded that she is taller than me. I’ve always hated that. I’ll have to remember to wear platforms while she’s here. Hopefully she’ll be polite and wear flats. I am older than her, though, so that would make me feel better, except for the fact that she doesn’t have to deal with turning 18 for another year or so. She’s only 16 as a matter of fact. It was her first time flying alone. I think she was pretty proud of herself, and I don’t blame her. But she still needed me to help her get her luggage from the baggage claim.
Sami is one of those cute girls I ordinarily would generalize as a flake, or a baby or something. She has short, curly hair that actually looks good under a floppy brimmed hat, which was what she was wearing now. She wears the new popular glitter makeup, too. When we got to my car, I had to check my own face in the mirror on the visor, just to be sure I was giving as favorable an impression as she was. I had been going with the dark, bold eyeliner lately. It was probably the whole spy phase, but I have big eyes so I can get away with it. Not that I was a complete fanatic; I had gone with light, frosted lipstick so I didn’t completely resemble the painted lady. I had also gotten into black- with-red clothes lately. Hm, Sami’s favorite color was still pink. (She looked great in it, too.) I guess the rebel-agent look hasn’t come to her town yet.
Okay, I guess you could say I was sort of upset with myself at the time. I felt like I had no control over my emotions. Or maybe that was, no control over my future. I never thought I was a control-freak or anything. Not a lot of people know this, but I don’t have a clue which way I’m going after I graduate. For obvious reasons.
When you get to this stage in life, every ‘Tom, Dick & Harry’ you happen to meet think they have the natural right to ask what your plans are. Not only would it be breaking my agreement with the US government to explain, but I really don’t know whether I’m going to college or becoming a full-fledged FBI agent. Half the people that know me probably think I’m some kind of slacker, I guess. Just shows you how wrong you can be about somebody, right? I just hope I haven’t already reached the pe
ak of my career and potential. Not even my parents can help me out of this one. They’re very supportive, but I kind of feel like half of this problem is just in my own mind.
I didn’t need to discuss this with Sami. She knew the weaknesses of the social system as well as I did. Government organization complications or not.
Sami lived in a small town. Not that she was a country hick. Actually, there are some country-hick-minded people living in the big city as it is. True City people do have a completely different mindset. Not only the whole “it takes 20 minutes to get anywhere, work all week and cram your domestic life into the weekend” thing. And yes, sometimes city people are a rude bunch. Not usually as rude as the people holding the sign up in their window in the car beside us, though.
“Uh....” I offered sagely. Nice welcome for Sam. I’ve never experienced road rage in any form. Besides, I didn’t remember doing anything to these 2 guys that would warrant them flipping me off so explicitly. I mean, hello!
“They pulled up beside us and waved a few minutes ago,” Sami said, giving me a blank look. “I ignored them.” Hey, I’m not completely oblivious, I was watching the road! I can handle being ticked off pretty well. The next time the 2 guys car was even with us Sami was holding a sign that said “God loves you” in her window.
I pointed city hall out to Sam a little while later. I had had a hard time explaining the city hall bomb incident to Sam. Kind of like the way I explained my happening onto the scene to the mayor.
It was about that time that I noticed how fast the car behind me was gaining on my tail. It was making me nervous so I sped up a littler and switched lanes. The car moved after me like one of those guided torpedoes in war movies, with not regard for the other vehicles on the highway. I don’t want you to feel too nervous, though -it wasn’t the car from before on a mission for revenge. That would make my tale more of a horror than a mystery story. I hate horror movies. Ugh.
In the meantime, I was totally freaking out. Let me explain something, I’m a VERY safe driver. I’m also a little bit of a by-the-books type person. So, my speedometer telling me I was already going over the posted speed limit was making me almost as nervous as realizing that a car seemed to be chasing me. In the meantime, Sami was beginning to question my city driving habits, so I was forced to inform her that we were being tailed. Apparently she’d never heard of anything like that. She thought I was joking. Shows you what living in a small town will do to you. Turns you into a skeptic I guess.
The car was coming up fast on my bumper, and I was now going something like 20 mph over the speed limit. This was a lot scarier than the whole bomb-and-gunpoint situation from before.
I took a fast exit onto the interstate but the car kept right on my tail. “Hold on,” I told Sam, speeding up.
I don’t drive a race car. I always wanted a camero or corvette or something, but than I really hadn’t factored chase scenes into my more practical choice.
You know how well people take being rammed by another vehicle in the movies? It’s kind of like, BUMP! Oops. Moving on. Okay, well that’s not how it goes in real life. It was more like getting into a crash and going over like 3 of those speed bumps way too fast all at the same time. Sami screamed. I had swallowed my tongue so I didn’t really have that option.
By this time I had gotten strangely ticked off. Who did those people think they were - ramming ME? My poor little car! And right before my birthday, too. With my best friend in the car. I mean, who wouldn’t be upset?
I was driving like a maniac down the interstate, hazard lights flashing and using my horn more than I ever had in my life. When I first got my car, I was determined to get myself a cell phone, but somehow it just didn’t work out and now I was regretting it. I knew I should have talked my mom into it. And she didn’t think I’d need one. Hmph.
I took another exit and spun my tires on the curve. Which freaked me out enough to slow down for awhile until I came within a couple inches of being rammed again. We were driving through a suburb now, and I could only hope we would be stopped by the police. Maybe if I could just find the police station....I told my plan to Sam. She nodded furiously at me, holding onto the door and the seat. She was white as a sheet and I hoped she wasn’t going to be sick. Gotta be careful about that airplane food ya know.
I was still trying to shake or out-run my followers, but I took one fast turn too many and ran into...well, something....and since this wasn’t a cartoon, I got knocked out. Yep, so I can’t really tell the rest of this story, but I understand my little friend Sami, who’s license is barely cool in her wallet, had to take over, grabbing the wheel (don’t ask me how the car was still trying to move...I was unconscious, remember?) and then somehow hauling me out of the car, and into the police car that pulled up for us. Hey, I can’t save the day every time. I’m not super woman.
Anyway, you guessed it, our chasers were leftovers from the city hall deal. Sam still believes it was a case of road rage. I think we’ll be keeping our visits confined to her small hometown from now on.
I wasn’t seriously injured. I still made it to my graduation. I even drove myself. I managed to maintain a buoyant feeling all the way to the ceremony. I was driving my dad’s pickup, and after driving my mom’s van around for the past week (my car was in the shop, of course -it isn’t exactly supercar itself) it felt amazingly lightweight. Just like me. Sort of. Tomorrow is my birthday. I’ve always wanted to be one of those people that happen to graduate at 17, so I just barely managed it. Cool huh.
I didn’t mess up, or trip or anything, during the presentation. And we didn’t have anybody pull any tricks, like being naked under their gowns or something, thank God. And I didn’t have to give a speech. That may be some kind of closure to some people, but I am SO not a public speaker. I was glad I missed valedictorian by about a point.
And I actually had family there. I have a very far-flung family, and seeing as my immediate family group is quite secretive under the best circumstances, we don’t exactly keep that well in touch. We’re not one of those lots that have a family reunion every 2 years, by any means. So anyhow, it was rather exciting to have some friends and relatives at my graduation ceremony. But what surprised me the most was that our very own mayor came. To see me, Tai, barely more than a clerk, graduate. Pretty wild, huh. But then I guess I did save his life. My classmates didn’t know that though so I had to get past the jokes about pulling a Monica Lewinsky and all that. Gag. Don’t worry, most of them know by now about my convictions against that sort of thing, understand them or not. Kids.
Anyway, you know how I said I didn’t trip on my way across the stage? That could be cause I got yanked out a side door right after I received my diploma from my principal. It seems some of my other coworkers were there, as well. The kind that hide in back rooms, obviously.
I guess I always knew everything would work out concerning the whole job and school thing. And it did. Next time you see me, I’ll be both a full-time student at my favorite college, and a real life FBI agent. It seems there are a few things on certain college campuses that the FBI likes to keep an eye on. Not to mention having eyes in a city that shall remain nameless. But that’s another story, right? Anyway, in case you didn’t catch it before, the moral of this story is, something that looks like road rage could be anti-FBI bombers wanting revenge, and remember that you aren’t a cartoon character and you can’t bounce back every time after being squashed or banged on the head. Oh yeah... no matter who you are or what your job is, trust God. He’ll bring you through.

The End


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