After dinner both Patrick and Tobias settled themselves in Tobias’s apartment, eagerly waiting for the late night show as were most of the others. Patrick, from the start, when he got his TeeWee, had begun to explore it to try out its functions. Tobias happily assisted, setting it up right. There was no separate manual at hand; instead you just asked.

“Yes, that’s right, you just talk to it. The TeeWee will learn to recognize your voice and even more than that later. You can access only those functions you have learned to master, and it guides you one at a time,” Tobias explained.

“So, if I want to connect to you?” Patrick asked.

“Don’t ask me, ask your TeeWee.”

Patrick hesitated a bit, feeling strange asking a thing like that, but he tried. “How do I connect to Tobias, TeeWee?”

The display showed Tobias’s picture and with text below asking, “This Tobias?” and gave three choices, yes, no, and maybe.

“Wait; don’t touch any of the choices right now. Try to touch my picture,” Tobias said.

Patrick did and felt a strange tickling in his finger.

“This is another way of looking at a picture. As some of us are blind or can’t see that well, they use this feature instead, and it’s really quick, and it often provides you with a lot more information that you can’t see or read. In our schools in Skyjland you can learn to interpret this, and many of us use this feature even if we can see, since it can be a more convenient and accurate identifier than just a picture.”

Patrick looked up at Tobias in amazement while sensing his picture.

“Now, ask TeeWee to explain to you how to connect to me.”

Patrick did, and TeeWee started talking, telling Patrick what to do and about various ways to connect to people. TeeWee also said that Patrick needed to be listed by the receiver in order to connect and that he needed to ask for permission. After having done that, Tobias picked up his TeeWee because it was calling for attention. Tobias showed him his display with Patrick’s picture, and by touching the picture, Tobias acknowledged the request, which showed on Patrick’s display immediately.

“You have my picture? But, you didn’t do anything or say anything, you just touch my picture?” Patrick asked Tobias a bit puzzled.

“The TeeWee sees you like a camera or a video camera if you like. And that’s not quite true, I did do something. You just didn’t see me do anything, but my touch display knows me and can feel me. I acknowledged you by feeling.”

Patrick looked back at Tobias silently with wonderment in his eyes. Then he looked at his TeeWee and loosened his grip a bit. He formed a serious look on his face, reflecting an awareness Tobias never had seen before. It was like Patrick went deep into adulthood when touching his TeeWee display. He didn’t use just one finger; instead he very much used his whole hand.

Tobias felt something, and it took him by storm. What he felt was Patrick’s full-hearted response, his gratitude: Patrick was grateful for being with him, for being allowed to share his time, for sharing his joy, and for being trusted like he was. Patrick’s awareness of his situation was profound, and his look to Tobias was a bridge that his gratitude used to move from Patrick to Tobias.

Tobias had never felt something like that before when connecting to the others; it was a quite different feeling and he just had to smile. That boy next to him exuded a peace, a joy and recognition of him as a person, a human being, that he never had received from anyone else before, his wife and his own children included. Now Tobias both felt and received proof that Patrick was special and in a way he never could have understood by being told only.

Tobias put his TeeWee aside. He moved over to Patrick and took him in his arms and hugged him gently, as he knew no other way to respond. Patrick put his TeeWee aside too and returned to his boyishness, hugging Tobias back. Tobias now knew that he had gained a friend for life despite age, and that Patrick, while still a boy, moved through some other dimensions of life he obviously wasn’t yet aware of.

“I guess you know what a TeeWee is now?” Tobias asked Patrick.

“Yes I know,” was the short answer he got back.

“How about preparing for the evening show?”

Patrick started to smile widely and released his grip from around Tobias.

“Yeah, I don’t want to miss that. But where’s the TV?”

“Oh, have you forgotten? Here nothing is ordinary, so how do you think a TV-set designed by Mr. Zed looks? Interested?”

Patrick smiled even more and started to laugh without saying anything.

“Right! First we prepare our snacks and drinks and whatever else we want, and then I’ll demonstrate a TV, which is slightly different. And don’t ask me what a radio looks like.”

Patrick laughed even more.

Snacks for Patrick meant just a packet of popcorn or potato chips, nothing more. But here with Tobias the concept of snacks widened and took time to prepare. Tobias engaged Patrick in everything he was doing, first preparing a variety of fruits handsomely displayed on a platter. There were cheeses too that had to be unpacked and displayed on another platter. There were crackers, nuts, chocolate… you name it, and it all had to be prepared to look nice.

Tobias also had set out some drinks for Patrick and some red wine for himself to go with the cheese. Patrick had soft drinks he was used to from back home to choose from, but there were also some new drinks he hadn’t tasted before. One kind was Skyjland lemonades Tobias pointed out, and Patrick tried some. They tasted different, but still good, and Patrick chose one with a strange fruit illustration on the label he never had seen before.

“What is it?” Patrick asked.

“Well, if you touch the label… no, no, I’m just joking,” Tobias laughed.

“That fruit is one of several you won’t find anywhere else in the world other than in Skyjland. It’s from ancient times, and it’s a mango-type fruit we call cirrago because of the citrus/sweet and sour taste. I like that one too, and it’s just perfect for a warm day at the Skyjland beach.”

“What? Skyjland beach? Where are we going?” Patrick almost jumped up with joy.

“Please, just let me keep that a secret till we’re on our way. But I can promise, you won’t be disappointed.”

Patrick loved to see Tobias’s happy, cunning smile, letting him know that this would be something extraordinary, if even possible after all the other things happening to him. But Patrick promised to be patient.

When they had finished their preparation for the evening, Tobias as the magician just had to do it his way. He placed himself in front of Patrick on the sofa with a small snack table in front of him and …

“Ladies and gentlemen! I will now present to you Mr. Cantini and Gang, Posted!”

Patrick laughed at the way Tobias made his presentation look like he had back in the classroom, and then in a magical way Tobias pointed at a painting on the opposite wall from where Patrick sat and mumbled some magical words. And yes, the painting changed its image and became live. Tobias quickly moved over to sit beside Patrick like there was nothing to it, smiling, not saying a word.

However, laughing Patrick and a slight, friendly push in his side made him talk.

“What? Haven’t you seen this before? Color, 3D, stereo, wide screen and all?”

“No I haven’t, is every painting like that?”

“No not quite. There is one more in the kitchen that I watched the morning news on when you were asleep. Anyway, this is our Skyjland TV channel, and the late night show was released a couple of minutes ago. Once it’s released we can pick it up whenever we want, just like any other program. Shall we?”

Patrick nodded; Tobias took up his TeeWee and made something start the program.

The late night show opened like any ordinary talk show, but the program presenters were different. Tobias explained that they could choose a presenter based on language, rate of speech, sign language, adding text, etc.

“Even if you’re blind you can follow the show using your TeeWee, and there’s also a feature of multi-sound, so through the TeeWee you can hear your choice of presenter speak without disturbing any others. However, I’ll select Wendy for both of us—she’s fun to listen to.”

It all started with an introduction from where Eve and Liam arrived at Mr. Cantini’s night club. Tobias explained that there were several other introductions to this sort of series, and the previous one was about him coming to Patrick’s school.

“We do want to inform people about what we’re doing and provide some entertainment at the same time,” Tobias explained.

Patrick enjoyed the way Eve and Liam were presented as heroes, and in Patrick’s mind they were. Despite their handicaps they performed no less than anyone else could have done. Out there in the ordinary society, no one would consider them capable of doing anything. Patrick especially liked seeing Liam presented and how he completely took Mr. Cantini off guard when entertaining him with his car pictures.

The mess outside the nightclub when Mr. Cantini’s men tried to steal Eve’s knitted money bag was hilarious, and the presenter Wendy’s comments were all spot on. The gang’s failure to get to the mailbox that Tobias had told him about was a joy to watch, like one disaster after another, and Patrick laughed like he never had done before.

After that the screen focused on a nicely set breakfast table, and there were a few seconds of silence, some steps, and then Mr. Cantini showed up. A few more seconds of silence with Mr. Cantini studying the table…

“WHERE THE HELL IS MY MONEY!!!” he yelled.

The servants who stood in the background didn’t know what to do, as Mr. Cantini’s anger exceeded everything they had experienced before. There were a few more seconds of silence as no one dared to speak.

“WHERE THE HELL IS MY MONEY!!! I WANT TO KNOW WHERE MY MONEY IS!” he yelled out even louder.

Servants and other people started to move in and out through doors in confusion, asking around for someone daring enough to bring Mr. Cantini the message. After a minute of further confusion that tall tuxedoed man who had guided Liam and Eve was pushed forward, with some messed-up men, bruised and disorderly dressed, lined up behind him.

“The money is still in the mailbox,” the tuxedoed man tried to explain.

“What the he…” Mr. Cantini looked like he might explode.

“Can you please… explain this to me,” Mr. Cantini said, trying to calm himself down.

“I’d rather not.”

Mr. Cantini looked around in silence at his lined-up men for a while, like he wanted to bruise them up even more.

“Okay… can you show me?” he then asked the tuxedoed man.

The tall, tuxedoed man looked back at Mr. Cantini in anxiety, expressing “rather not” once more with his eyes, but he didn’t dare to say it.

So instead of breakfast, Mr. Cantini got dressed and pushed his people out in the street to show him that damn mailbox.

Out on the sidewalk he stood for a while watching the great havoc marking the way to the mailbox, the only thing standing.

“What the hell is this???” Mr. Cantini asked right out in the air as if he were stunned.

“I rather not say,” the tall tuxedoed man following him silently answered.

Mr. Cantini’s bedroom was well isolated at the other end of his nightclub building, and after his usual sleeping pill he hadn’t heard anything of the noise, not even the blast blowing up the car trunk.

He looked at his men, who looked at something else, anything. Any further arguing seemed pointless. He then turned to the mailbox and made his way there. Any people on the sidewalk moved away, and together with others they were looking from a safe distance. This was Cantini area and even the police moved away as Mr. Cantini closed in on the mailbox.

“What the hell is this?” he asked again when he had all his men assembled behind him.

“It’s the mailbox,” someone said.

“With the money,” someone else added.

“SHUT UP!!! I can see that it’s made up to look like a mailbox. BUT DO WE HAVE MAILBOXES LOOKING LIKE THIS HERE??? Mr. Cantini furiously asked.

A silent mumbled “No” was all he got back as an answer.

“What the hell, look at it; a stupid massive iron pillar, blue okay, but it’s junk. NO ONE PUTS ANY MAIL IN HERE!!!”

“But there’s a mail slot—OUCH.” A kick on the shin by a nearby buddy silenced any further explanation.

“We saw the money envelopes put in there,” the tall tuxedoed man added.

“AND!!! WHY THE HELL CAN’T YOU JUST TAKE IT OUT. WHAT THE HELL’S THE MATTER WITH YOU!!!”

In anger Mr. Cantini kicked the mailbox hard, and as a result a small iron door at the back just happened to fall out in the street with a crash. Even though they all from the start had looked for a back entrance, a hatch or something to get into the iron pillar, no one before had noticed that backdoor, as it of course had been cunningly concealed.

Mr. Cantini looked behind the mailbox and saw an envelope fall out afterward. He picked up the envelope and got glue on his fingers, which stuck to the envelope.

“What the he… Get this off me!” And the tuxedoed man was quick to remove the envelope from Mr. Cantini’s hands.

“Where the hell is the money?” he then asked, stepping aside a bit while trying to get rid of some glue from his hands.

Some other wise guys rushed forward to have a better look.

“There’s nothing here?” they all in surprise established, as with one mouth.

Mr. Cantini starred at them like a madman as they one-by-one investigated the inside of the mailbox, getting glue on their hands, too. Then he turned to the tuxedoed man and asked what was in that envelope he found. The tuxedoed man carefully opened the envelope without getting any glue on his hands and took out a folded paper. He unfolded the paper and read to himself, and almost at the same instant he became silent.

“What the hell does it say?” Mr. Cantini asked, urging him to answer.

“You don’t want to know,” was the silent answer coming out from the tuxedoed man’s shut mouth.

“WHAT THE HELL DOES IT SAY!!!? Mr. Cantini furiously shouted, having had enough of this nonsense.

The tuxedoed man took a deep breath as if he were preparing himself to hide from an expected explosion.

“Out of Order, it says.”

BANG! That second kick Mr. Cantini delivered to the mailbox hurt bad, and after that he let lose on the men closest to him, delivering gluey punches that of course happened to get stuck here and there, ripping off one man’s toupee. It all became another mess with Mr. Cantini furiously hitting everyone close and the men already bruised up trying to protect themselves and escape the area.

Patrick laughed his heart out on the sofa together with Tobias, as Mr. Cantini hobbled back home because of a hurt foot, assisted by that tall tuxedoed man as the only one Mr. Cantini still could trust.

“My guess is that we have to take Mr. Cantini out soon. He could be a danger to us if he tries to set up a search for handicapped-looking people like Liam and Eve and sends his people to institutions like ours is registered as,” Tobias said a bit more seriously after a while.

“He’s very powerful Patrick, and he’s not just any ordinary gangster.”

Patrick listened intensely.

“You know that wheel of his, the one he tried to trick Eve and Liam to lose their money on? It’s rigged all right, but not really rigged to make people lose money. The wheel is actually used to pay out money to let politicians, police, military, etc. win it. To give away money to people of importance, banks and big company leaders, those key people who run this country.”

“Like the President,” Patrick curiously asked.

Tobias looked back at Patrick and smiled, but without answering his question.

“Bribes, it’s called, and by letting them win the money it doesn’t show where the money is coming from; it can’t be traced. They’re all in on this setup, financing their penthouse-style luxury living, and Mr. Cantini is the one administering everything, making him the most powerful of them all. What we’re doing is making him lose his manners and credibility, making him useless, so to speak, so we can replace him our way and take over the business without anyone noticing. The money involved for us to earn is most likely many billons’ worth.”

Tobias sat silenced for a short while, thinking.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if there will be a master meeting regarding this tomorrow,” Tobias ended with.

…

To be continued next Friday.