2

Three days earlier, Xerxes had been home on a short hiatus after shooting the Paris episode. That had been a blast. He and his new“ami”, Octave Pompidou, rode the streets of Paris, that was crazy because of the insane traffic and had raced on bikes down the steps of The Eiffel Tower. In between, they’d had a run-in with a vicious street gang called les rats d’egouts. After that adventure, Xerxes felt he’d put the dare back into daredevil. And what a good thing he’d disabled that email he’d primed for his family and friends. One to be sent out in case of his demise. Fortunately, that didn’t happen.

Stephanie Chu, Rufus Bickle and Yolanda Stark, aka the crew, had gone on ahead to Lucerne to do the preparatory work for the show. Xerxes would hook up with them in just a few days.

Why had Xerxes really flown home? Well, truth be told, he had to hand in a homework assignment. A combined history and geography project that consisted of a photo montage of the streets of Paris combined with a short essay about art and culture. He’d sworn to Principal Hammerschlager of St. Batty’s, Xerxes’ high school, that he’d turn the assignment in no matter what. And on this solemn promise, Hammerschlager had allowed him to miss a few weeks of school without penalty. It had been a good deal and the producers of the show, Mira Gottfreund and Max Schafer readily agreed to help him out. So back he was, if only for a couple of days.

Xerxes’ plane landed during the late evening. When the wheels hit the tarmac, Xerxes sat up with a start wrenching his headphones across his head.“We’re here?” he asked his seat companion, a young executive type who’d been pounding the keys of his laptop as soon as the plane hit 36,000 feet.

The exec smiled, flashing teeth speckled with a clear set of braces.“You better believe it, Bro’. You’ve been asleep for almost 6 hours. You missed lunch and dinner.”

Yikes. Xerxes guessed that’s why his stomach was rumbling.“Good flight,” he mumbled, then started to collect himself as the passengers at the front of the plane crammed into the aisle wedging their way forward in a bid to get off as fast as possible. The anti-herding instinct. When stuck in a confined space for nine hours or more, at first opportunity, get the heck out of there. Xerxes popped the overhead compartment, held out his arms and his knapsack dropped neatly into his outstretched hands. He looked at the young exec whose mouth widened in surprise and smiled.“Practice,” Xerxes said.“Plenty of practice. See you again, my man.” The guy nodded still not saying anything, then finally snapped his laptop shut and watched Xerxes slide on down toward the cockpit and the front exit.

Inside the terminal, Xerxes stopped at Starbucks and bought himself a latté and a chocolate brownie. Energy food, I can feel that sugar hitting my veins now, he said t