The Poe Consequence

by Keith Steinbaum

  * * *

  “Did you put the ‘No Pick-Up’ sign where the bus driver could see it?” Uncle Kevin asked.

  “Yeah,” Seth answered, preparing to shovel another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “I looked through the window and saw the bus pull up and then drive away.”

  “Good. We’ll leave in a few minutes.”

  “How come Mrs. Fisher’s seeing you this morning? I thought parent-teacher meetings were done after school?”

  “She’s doing me a favor,” he said. “My job doesn’t let me commit to specific times, especially in the afternoon.”

  Seth rose from his chair and walked toward the sink with his bowl.

  “I’m going to go brush my teeth and then we’ll go,” his uncle told him. “The trash bag’s full. Please take it outside before we leave.”

  “Can’t I do it later?” he grumbled.

  “Just do it, okay?”

  The garbage spilled over, making the top ends difficult to fasten. Seth thought the knot might come undone so he carried the bag with one hand on top and the other supporting the bottom. He felt what seemed like a large bottle at the bottom of the bag. Why didn’t Uncle Kevin use the recycle container? He wondered. He’s always telling me to do it. Seth suddenly had a sinking feeling that required an immediate answer. Stepping outside the door leading from the laundry room, he placed the bag on the ground next to the large black trash container that stood side by side with the blue recycling one. He kneeled down, turned the bag over, and tore open a small hole on the bottom. Reaching his hand inside, he removed an empty bottle of scotch. He stared in anger at the only proof he needed that his uncle had lied to Grandma and him and Veronica about quitting drinking. Maybe I should bring it back into the kitchen and embarrass him, he thought. Or hide it until the next time Grandma comes over and watch him squirm.

  Seth rose to his feet and deposited the trash bag with the rest of the garbage. He picked the bottle up from the ground and clutched it from the neck, debating whether to try and sneak it into his room before they left for school, or bury it in the recycle container for now. “I want Grandma to see this,” he whispered to himself. The sudden sound of the side door opening from the garage startled him. He realized he didn’t have time to hide the bottle so he darted behind the blue and black trash bins and crouched down, peeking through the skinny space between them. Expecting to see his uncle, Seth felt an immediate shock and fear when an unknown and tough looking Mexican walked outside.

  He knew the man must be a burglar. His heart slammed repeatedly against his chest as he gripped the scotch bottle with his right hand, petrified but ready to defend himself. He wondered if the Mexican had been inside the house. Was his Uncle Kevin all right? Did he even know? Was he dead? Seth’s eyes followed the man’s every move. As he neared the gate, he ascertained that something must be wrong with him. He seemed hurt. A slight bulge protruded from inside the left shoulder area of his shirt and he hunched over toward that side. Seth was afraid, but somewhere inside his fright he gained strength from the promise he had made himself after his father was murdered. Nobody’s gonna bully me again. Seth slid around the side of the trash container and waited for the Mexican to reach for the latch on the gate, figuring the man would be in the most defenseless position at that moment. But as Seth prepared to attack, something strange happened.

  The Mexican wobbled a bit, as if he had lost strength in his legs. He turned away from the gate and leaned against the wall, covering his face with his hands. Seth didn’t know what to do. He continued to stare from a safe position, confident that he remained well hidden. He tightened his grip on the bottle’s neck, ready to charge at a moment’s notice.

  “Put the bottle down, kid,” the Mexican said.

  His back is turned. How does he know I’m here? Seth took a quick breath and held it.

  “I ain’t gonna hurt you.”

  I could’ve sworn he never saw me!

  The Mexican approached the gate again. “I just need me some fresh air, man,” he said, never looking in Seth’s direction. “You ain’t supposed to know I’m here, so I don’t want no problems.”

  I’m not supposed to know he’s here? Of course I know that, what a stupid thing to say! He wants to rob our house. He thought nobody was home but I caught him. He’s bigger than me but I don’t care. He’s not gonna get away with it! Never again you Mexican!

  Seth waited for the man to reach for the latch. He leaped forward in an attempt to bring the bottle crashing down on his head, but the Mexican spun from the gate and threw his right hand up, catching Seth’s wrist. For several moments they stared into each other’s eyes as the man continued to apply more pressure on the wrist until finally loosening the bottle from Seth’s grip and taking it away. Seth expected a hard punch to his face, but the realization that he might be cut up or even killed strengthened his resolve. He tried to kick the Mexican, twisting at angles to get a better shot at his knees. One of the kicks made solid contact, allowing him to lower his upper body and knock the man against the wall. The Mexican yelled out in pain as he grabbed his left shoulder. Seth wasn’t sure what to do, but the image of his dead uncle sent him running into the house. He slammed the door and locked it, taking a quick glance through the window to see if the Mexican was still there. The man hadn’t moved.

  “Uncle Kevin!”

  After several moments his uncle rushed into the room.

  “What is it? What’s the matter?” he shouted.

  “You’re alive! Call the police! Hurry!”

  “What the hell is it?”

  “There’s a Mexican guy out there and he tried to kill me!”

  “What?”

  His uncle still wasn’t dialing.

  “Where?”

  “Just do it!” Seth yelled.

  “First tell me where you saw him!”

  “Outside! By the trash cans!”

  His uncle ran past Seth to look through the window of the laundry room door. “Oh, no,” he groaned.

  “Why aren’t you doing anything, Uncle Kevin?” Seth hurried to the window. The Mexican had gotten up and supported himself against the blue container.

  “I’ll explain everything, Seth,” he said, keeping his eyes on the Mexican. “But first tell me what you meant when you said he tried to kill you?”

  “He was gonna smash me over the head with a bottle!”

  Uncle Kevin glanced back to look at him. “You mean he just came up behind you and you escaped?”

  “He had the bottle in his hand but I kicked him and knocked him against the wall. That’s when I ran inside.”

  “So he was hiding when you went out there?”

  “Yeah, in the garage. He would’ve hurt me if he could, for sure. You, too.”

  “Damn it!” his uncle shouted. “I knew I never should have…”

  “When he came outside he walked to the gate,” Seth explained. “He was going to rob us because he told me I wasn’t supposed to know he was there.”

  “Hold it, Seth,” his uncle said, looking surprised. “He talked with you?”

  “Kind of,” he replied. “He was talking out loud, but not at me. I guess he must have known I was hiding behind the trash cans, but he never came over there.”

  “Now you’re telling me you were the one that was hiding,” his uncle said. “Was he holding the bottle when he walked out of the garage?”

  “No, but so what?” Seth replied.

  “How did he wind up with a bottle in his hand?”

  “I…found one on the ground,” he said, wanting to keep his discovery a secret. “He took it from me when we were fighting.”

  They both directed their gaze at the Mexican again. Seth couldn’t understand why the man hadn’t tried to escape, preferring instead to stand there looking back at them. Maybe he was more hurt than Seth first thought.

  “So let me get this straight,” Uncle Kevin said. “You were hiding with a bottle. You felt threatened because you thought he was a robber an
d you tried to defend yourself.” Uncle Kevin gave him a little smile. “You were even trying to defend me. He was walking to the gate when you attacked him and in the process he took the bottle from your hands. Then you knocked him against the wall and ran inside the house.”

  Seth nodded.

  Uncle Kevin closed his eyes and rubbed his face in his hands. “He’s right, Seth,” he said, removing a box of mints from his pocket and putting one into his mouth. “You weren’t supposed to know he was there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Uncle Kevin looked at his watch. “We can still make it to school on time,” he said. “But I need to see if Alex is all right.”

  “Alex? Seth asked. “You know him?”

  Uncle Kevin opened the door. “Seth, meet Veronica’s brother, Alex.”

  “What?” Seth stared at his uncle open mouthed for a long moment. “Veronica’s brother?”

  Uncle Kevin approached Alex. “Are you all right?”

  “Ain’t nothin’,” he answered.

  “Are you sure? Let me look at it.”

  Uncle Kevin started to move around to Alex’s left side but as soon as he touched the shirt Alex spun away in anger. “I said it ain’t nothin’!” he hollered. “I’m goin’ back to the room.”

  “What room?” Seth asked him.

  Alex looked at his Uncle Kevin. “You gonna tell him?” he asked.

  “Tell me what?”

  “I owe you an explanation, Seth,” Uncle Kevin said. “Alex got hurt and needed Veronica to take care of him for a few days. She didn’t want to bring him to her apartment because of her roommate and she couldn’t afford to stay in a motel. So I offered the room next to my garage.”

  Seth’s eyes narrowed in anger. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  His uncle took a long, slow breath. “I wasn’t sure if you were ready. Do you know what I mean by that?”

  Seth stared at Alex. “Yeah, I know what you mean,” he said. “And I don’t like what you did!”

  “If that’s the way you feel, Seth, then I’ll call Veronica today and tell her they have to leave.”

  Seth looked at his uncle. “Good!” he shouted. He turned away from the both of them and walked toward the garage. “I’ll go wait in the car.”

  He sat brooding in the front seat, thinking about his uncle’s explanation. “Now Veronica’s keeping secrets from me, too,” he said to himself. “Just like Uncle Kevin and his drinking.” Seth stared at Alex as he walked across the garage. Alex took one step through the door of his room before turning to look back at Seth. He started to approach the car, walking slowly and leaning more to the left than before. He’s coming toward me! Seth reached over to lock the doors, but realized the front windows were down. He scooted closer to the steering wheel in case he needed to honk the horn. Alex stood by the passenger seat window and lowered his head to look at him.

  “You shouldn’t be drinkin’ that shit, Seth,” he said.

  “What…what are you talking about?”

  “C’mon, man, ‘fess up.” Seth watched as Alex pulled the empty scotch bottle from the back of his pants. “What do ya call this shit?”

  “That’s not mine!” Seth hissed.

  “Your uncle ain’t never gonna find out, okay? Can’t say I blame you for needin’ to fix your mind up. I know what happened to you. But trust me, man, alcohol ain’t the answer for a kid your age. When you go through shit in life you just gotta keep fightin’, you understand? Keep believin’ there’s somethin’ better.”

  Seth stared in confused silence as Alex shuffled back into his room with the bottle and closed the door.

  On the way to school his uncle tried to explain again why he allowed Veronica’s brother to stay at the house, but Seth didn’t pay attention. “I can’t believe he thought that bottle was mine,” he said to himself. “I don’t want him to think that. What if he tells Veronica? Then Veronica will tell Uncle Kevin and he’ll know that I know.”

  The school day seemed to drag on longer than usual as Seth’s nervousness increased. He needed to straighten out the misunderstanding and get that bottle back, but he felt scared. He knows I tried to hit him with the bottle. He may try to hurt me. For all he knew, Alex had already broken it somewhere and trying to talk with him would be for nothing.

  Seth’s other dilemma concerned finding a way to talk to Alex in private. After the school bus dropped him off, his neighbor, Lisa, who Uncle Kevin paid to stay with him each day until he got home from work, greeted him at the door. Seth had devised a plan, and several minutes later he walked into the front room holding a phone to his ear.

  “Okay, Uncle Kevin,” he replied. “Fifteen minutes? Yeah, I’ll tell her.” Seth hung up and looked at Lisa. “My uncle will be here in fifteen minutes. He said you could go home now.”

  Seth reached out to knock on Alex’s door but jerked his hand away before making contact. He leaned in close and listened, wondering if Alex was sleeping. Seth didn’t hear anything and stepped back, struggling to control his nerves. He looked back to make sure the door leading into the house remained open. He’s hurt, Seth reminded himself. I can outrun him if he comes after me. Seth hesitated for several unsettled moments. In ten seconds, I’ll do it. Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five…four…three…two…one…He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and reached his hand out again.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  The afternoon pain pills helped a little but Face’s steady improvement had suffered a setback by what happened that morning. His vision of Seth leaping out with a bottle from behind the trash containers saved him from a surprise attack, but the unexpected kick to his kneecap caused Face to stumble backwards and smack his wounded shoulder against a sharp corner of the wall. The pain shot through him like an electric shock, forcing him to slump to the ground until he gathered his senses. But Face had gained respect for Seth. That little white kid, that huero, showed balls coming after him like he did. That’s why Face slipped the bottle down his pants when Seth ran into the house. The kid didn’t deserve to get busted by his uncle when all he was doing was showing courage and protecting himself. Face also understood that Seth experienced a kind of pain no doctor could fix.

  The accidental meeting that took place turned out to be a good thing. Face had wanted to confront the kid, to look him in the eyes, and find out whether he sensed any kind of link with the heart attacks. Something revealing. He would like to have had more time to reach a conclusion but that wasn’t gonna happen now. Kevin and Seth wanted them gone. When Veronica returned from work they’d pack up and go to a motel.

  Face felt like chillin’ for the moment, looking through a car magazine that Veronica found stuffed inside the couch she slept on. He heard a knock on the door and instinctively reached under the pillow where he’d hidden the bottle, making sure he had some protection if necessary. Face remained silent, waiting to see what happened next. The knocking repeated, but this time he heard a voice.

  “Alex?”

  “Yeah?” he called out, tightening his grip on the bottle.

  “Can I come in?”

  Face felt an immediate curiosity about the kid’s surprise visit. “Alright,” he answered, pulling his hand back out again. He watched the door open slowly. Seth remained in a half in, half out position as he looked toward the bed.

  “I want to tell you something,” Seth said.

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  Seth hadn’t moved. Face looked at his scared face and figured this offered another chance to check the kid out, to see if he detected anything more. “Come in and sit down, man,” he said. “I ain’t gonna bite.”

  Seth continued to stand in the doorway, his eyes gazing around the room.

  “Look at me,” Face told him. “I ain’t getting’ off this bed until I leave today. My shoulder hurts like hell every time I move.” Face nodded his head toward Seth. “Thanks to you.”

  Seth took a few hesitant steps into the room. He paused and appeared to be looking a
t something on the bed.

  “Is that my Motor Trend magazine?” he asked.

  “How do I fuckin’ know?” Face answered. He showed the front cover to Seth. “This yours?”

  “I lost that a long time ago,” he said. “Where’d you find it?”

  “Veronica found it in that couch,” he said, pointing. “Here, take it.”

  Seth took a couple of steps closer before wavering again. Face tossed the magazine toward the foot of his bed. “You like cars, man?”

  “Yeah,” he said, swooping in and plucking it away. Face watched as Seth backpedaled toward the couch.

  “So do I,” Face told him. “I’d love to work on them sports cars they got in there. Maybe I will one day.”

  “You a mechanic?” Seth asked.

  “Damn right, man. Ain’t nobody better.”

  “You know all about engines and stuff?”

  “Hell, yeah,” he replied. “I started when I wasn’t much older than you. I’m gonna own my own shop one day.”

  Seth glanced at the front cover and then held it up toward Face. “You see this car?” he asked. “It’s a Ferrari Enzo. It costs a million dollars!”

  “Are you fuckin’ shittin’ me?”

  “It can go from zero to sixty in three and a half seconds! And over two hundred miles per hour!”

  Face didn’t say a word as Seth sat on the couch and started leafing through the pages. “I want to learn how to fix cars, too” he said.

  “Maybe I can show ya some shit.”

  Seth placed the magazine on the couch and looked at Face with a serious expression. “That wasn’t my bottle,” he said.

  “That’s what you told me,” Face replied. “What were you doin’ with it behind the trash cans?”

  “Hiding.”

  “Yeah, I know, man,” he said. “From me.”

  “No, not really, not at first,” Seth told him. “When the door opened I thought you were my uncle.”

  “Why you hidin’ from him for?”