So it’s exactly what we do.
“Everyone relax when we get to the guardhouse,” I say under my breath.
“Driving toward a man with a gun is not very relaxing,” Tanya says.
“No kidding,” Howard says. “I feel like I have to pee and throw up at the same time.”
Tanya whispers something to him, and I see him relax slightly.
I stop at the guard booth. There’s one man inside, his uniform shirt bulging at the arms. He takes one look at us and practically goes cross-eyed.
“Good morning,” I say, in a friendly voice.
“You must be lost,” he says.
“Nope. My dad works here.”
“Your dad?” he says, not believing me.
“Of course. I’m Joshua Silberstein,” I say.
First calculation. Silberstein got spooked after seeing me, and he ran to where he’d be the safest. Second calculation. His son is not going to be recognized by the guards because he never comes down here.
“You’re Dr. Silberstein’s son?” the guard says.
“Baseball player extraordinaire, good with the ladies. I’m sure you’ve heard about me.”
The guard laughs. “We’ve heard,” he says.
He looks into the back of the car.
“And who are they?”
“My friends. Dad said I could bring them for the tour.”
“Tour?”
“We’re doing a summer school project. Also Dad forgot his security card again. My mom said to take it to him and tell him he’d forget his butt if it wasn’t attached. Between you and me, I’m not relaying that part of the message.”
The guard takes the card, swipes it on some sort of device, then hands it back to me.
“Your dad is here,” he says.
“Would you mind telling him that Joshua is on time, as requested?”
If the guard were smart, he’d ask for ID right now, and when he didn’t get any, he would order me to back up two hundred feet from the gate, call out men to search us, and lock the place down until he figured out what the hell was going on.
That’s if he were smart. But he’s not smart. He’s so thrown by the appearance of three teenagers at the gate, he does the opposite of what he should.
He picks up the phone and calls Professor Silberstein.
Third calculation. Silberstein is scared after yesterday, and his son appearing at the gate is going to throw him. He won’t follow proper security protocol when he hears Joshua’s name.
The guard turns away from me, speaking into the phone for a minute before hanging up. After a moment he turns back around.
He says, “When you get inside, pull up to your left and wait. Don’t get out of the car. Your dad is coming out to meet you.”
“Fantastic. Thanks,” I say with a smile.
And the gate opens in front of us.