Flora & Ulysses

Flora’s father was a careful driver. He kept his left hand at ten o’clock on the steering wheel and his right hand at two. He never took his eyes off the road. He did not go fast.

“Speed,” her father often said. “That is what will kill you, that and taking your eyes off the road. Never, ever take your eyes off the road.”

“Pop,” said Flora, “I need to talk to you.”

“Okay,” said her father. He kept his eyes on the road. “About what?”

“That sack. And that shovel.”

“What sack?” said her father. “What shovel?”

It occurred to Flora that her father would make an excellent spy. He never really answered questions. Instead, when asked a question, he simply responded with a nifty sidestep or a question of his own.

For instance, when her parents were getting their divorce, Flora had a conversation with her father that went something like this:

FLORA: Are you and Mom getting divorced?

FLORA’S FATHER: Who says we’re getting divorced?

FLORA: Mom.

FLORA’S FATHER: Is that what she said?

FLORA: That’s what she said.

FLORA’S FATHER: I wonder why she said that.

And then he started to cry.

Spies probably didn’t cry. But still.

“There’s a sack and a shovel in the trunk of the car, Pop,” said Flora.

“Is there?” said her father.

“I saw you put them in there.”

“It’s true. I did put a sack and a shovel in the trunk of the car.”

The Criminal Element said that it was a good idea to engage in relentless, open-ended questioning. “If you question with enough ferocity, people are sometimes surprised into answering questions that they do not intend to answer. When in doubt, question. Question more. Question faster.”

“Why?” said Flora.

“I intend to dig a hole,” said her father.

“For what?” said Flora.

“A thing that I am going to bury.”

“What thing are you going to bury?”

“A sack!”

“Why are you burying a sack?”

“Because your mother asked me to.”

“Why did she ask you to bury a sack?”

Her father tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. He stared straight ahead. “Why did she ask me to bury a sack? Why did she ask me to bury a sack? That’s a good one. Hey, I know! Do you want to get something to eat?”

“What?” said Flora.

“How about some lunch?” said her father.

“For the love of Pete!” said Flora.

“Or some breakfast? How about we stop and eat a meal, any meal?”

Flora sighed.

The Criminal Element advised “stalling, delaying, and obfuscation of every possible sort” when it came to dealing with a criminal.

Her father wasn’t a criminal. Not exactly. But he had been enlisted in the service of villainy — basically, he was in cahoots with an arch-nemesis. So maybe it would be good to stall, to delay the inevitable showdown, by going into a restaurant.

Besides, the squirrel was hungry, and he would need to be strong for the battle ahead.

“Okay,” said Flora. “Okay. Sure. Let’s eat.”