The Adventures of Gabriel Cohen Chapter 3: Dad's Secret Office

Chapter Three: Dad’s Secret Office

Shorty the guinea pig, first to wake in the dark, shrieks like a toy police car siren. Gabe is second. He trips on something. Shorty’s shoebox, his house since the fire. The front door bangs and rattles. Wind and rain. Or a robber? Better not open it.

Gabe gropes upstairs to Dad’s door. He taps on it.

“I am trying to work,” grumbles Dad.

“Is Mom there?”

?“Looking for something in the lab.”

Gabe hurries back down and finds Arlo yawning, unclicking the latch. A policeman.

"Child services,” says a lady partner. “Checking a report.”

Before Gabe can slam the door shut, they walk in. The lady first.

“What’s your name? How old are you?”

“Gabriel. He’s almost nine.”

That’s Arlo, blabbing.

“Arlo! She asked me, not you.”

The lady jots on her clipboard and peers at Gabe.

"What did you eat for supper?”

“He didn’t,” says Arlo.?

“What about homework?”

“He didn’t.”

Arlo. Always forcing a move to the city, near a yeshiva, to stop schooling at home.

“Do you like science, Gabriel?” she says. “How fast does the earth go around the sun?”

More pointless questions. “It doesn’t.”

The lady frowns. “Come on now. Who taught you that?”

“It’s in the Torah,” says Gabe. “And Einstein’s relativity says it doesn’t matter.”

“I say we look around the house,” the policeman cuts in. He moves stealthily, handcuffs jangling at his side.

They all enter the kitchen, noting a soapy backup of bowls and onion skins. They wander into Gabe’s bedroom and examine the bottles and tubes he filched from Mom’s laboratory.

The intruders climb the stairs and halt at Dad’s door. Gabe and Arlo hang at a distance.

“What’s this?” says the policeman.

“Father’s office,” says Arlo, all helpfulness.

“Don’t let them in,” Gabe hushes.

“Are you scared of your dad?” says Lady.

“I’m not. He’s working and you’re bothering him.”?

Lady turns the knob and peers inside as the policeman feels for his holster.

The room is thick with herbal cigarette smoke. Dad, wearing headphones, is absorbed in a row of codes, his head close to the screen.

Shorty from all the way downstairs bursts into a squeal of alarm.

In a fit of anger, Gabe rips the papers off the lady’s clipboard and shreds them to pieces.?????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????????

Lady stares at Gabe with an open mouth.

“Get out of here!” Gabe says.

“They're only trying to help,” says Arlo. The reasonable one.

“So why does she copy Dad’s screen?” says Gabe.

“What’s going on there?” calls Mom, clomping upstairs from the basement.

“Get them out,” Dad says, pulling the plug from his computer and jumping from his chair.

The policeman bends down for the torn-up papers. Why does he want them? Gabe kicks the pieces into a narrow space under the desk and Dad picks them up. The lady crawls on her hands and knees, trying to grab something. When Dad stands up and the man clamps handcuffs onto his wrists, Gabe is too shocked to scream.

“Why are you doing this? Let my father go!” Gabe stays close to Dad as the policeman pushes him along. But on the way out, Dad presses a torn piece of paper into Gabe’s hand. It contains two words: Perek Shira.