Mad Professor by Rudy Rucker

felt. He had the munchies. He and Tonel ate quite a bit of the stew, the thuds and yelps of the movie bouncing along in the background.
    Jack’s cell phone rang. He peeked at the screen, fearing it would be Mom, but, no, it was Gretchen, looking tense.
    â€œHey,” she said. “I’m still at the tabernacle. It’s getting way too trippy You think you could come and get me now?”
    â€œUm, I guess so,” said Jack. “I’m at Tonel’s. We have to see about getting a car.”
    â€œAxe her can she hook me up a honey,” put in Tonel. “I’m driving. Right, Daddy? I can have the van?”
    â€œIf you can start it,” said Vincente, twitching his remote to break the image into twenty-four new channels. “Sneak the battery outten Ragland’s truck. I seen him come back a half hour ago. You know he ain’t goin’ out again.”
    â€œHow do you mean trippy?” Jack asked Gretchen meanwhile.
    â€œIt’s that Armageddon thing,” said Gretchen. There was a trumpeting noise in the background. “Albert Chesney is getting really weird about it. He wants me to spend the night with him at Casa Linda to help him ‘gird his loins’ for the last battle. None of the Day Sixers wants to help him. Albert says that six pure hearts can turn the tide, so he needs five people to help him. Dad wants me to be with Albert even though he himself plans to stay home. Come get me, Jack. Right now they’re watching a video, but when it’s done, Dad’s driving Albert and me to the Casa Linda.”
    â€œIs this another of your put-ons?”
    â€œSave me, Jack. I mean it. And, you know, I really am pregnant.” Gretchen never let up. Jack liked that about her.
    â€œHook me a honey,” repeated Tonel.
    â€œWe’re coming,” said Jack. “And Tonel wants to know if you can find a date for him?”
    â€œPinka Wright is into him. I might call her.” The trumpets rose to an off-key crescendo. “Hurry.” Gretchen hung up.
    The tooting noise didn’t stop when Jack turned his phone off. After a moment’s disorientation, he realized that Vincente had tuned his screens to some random webcast of—what was it? Three glowing donuts moving across the wall of TVs, silver, gold, and copper. Behind them was a background of unfamiliar stars. A cracked brass fanfare played. Before Jack could ask about the picture, Vincente punched his controller again, splitting the image into twenty-four new channels.
    â€œWhat she say?” demanded Tonel.
    â€œHer father wants her to spend the night with Albert Chesney,” said Jack.
    â€œShe jivin’ you again,” said Tonel. “What she say about my date?”
    â€œPinka Wright.”
    â€œOoo! Let’s bounce it, dog.”
    â€œDon’t let Ragland hear you,” warned Vincente. “He’s got that shotgun.”
    First of all they had to check the tires of Vincente’s ancient van, and of course one of them was flat—Vincente’s driving license was suspended, and he didn’t keep insurance up on the van, which meant that he hardly ever drove it. Tonel found an electric pump in the bowels of Vaughan Electronics and they dragged out an extension cord and filled the tire. The tire seemed to hold its size, so that problem was solved.
    Next came the issue of gas. A quick check of the van’s gauge showed it to be stone cold dry. Tonel produced a can and a squeeze-bulb siphon from the back of the van. The plan was to get gas from Ragland’s truck as well as borrowing his battery.
    Quietly they walked down the alley to Ragland’s truck. Tonel popped the hood and set to work extracting the battery while Jack began pumping gas from Ragland’s tank. It felt stupid to be making such a complicated thing out of getting a car. Gretchen needed his help. Shouldn’t he just walk around the corner and take his Mom’s