by K A Goodsell
No wonder the Mayor had chosen him to try to find the graves.
My heart rate rose, and I felt heat in my chest as I realized that he could easily take me down and be fair competition now. Or was he wearing all of that to trigger me?
“How are your applications going?” My father asked him.
“They’re going well, sir.”
Sir? I’m sorry, I heard Gage call someone a dillweed the other day at the beach as he played volleyball when Elgort and I went to hang out.
“That’s fantastic. Please let me know if you need a recommendation letter.”
I scoffed. “He hasn’t worked with you, how can you give him one?”
They turned their attention towards me and I realized that may have come off a little harsh. Gage made a face.
“Pais, he works with me in the lab.” My father’s voice dropped into a stern tone, then he went back to professional mode as he looked at Gage again. “Are you manning the drive-in tonight?”
He nodded. “I am. The plan is to do a flip of the coin tonight at the bonfire to see what will play.”
My father rubbed his hands together in excitement. “Wonderful, we are heading over there now to get a prime place to park,” he leaned past Gage in my direction. His face was no longer professional, but stern again. “Please be careful and clean up afterwards. Put the fire out. All of it.”
“I promise.”
“It was good to see you, Gage,” my mother’s voice rang out as the front door open.
“You, as well,” he responded, trying to not to be too loud. “Once again, sir, it was good to see you. I appreciate you offering a letter. I just received one from Dr. Lee earlier today in the mail.”
“Dr. Henry Lee?” I scoffed again, this time in bewilderment. How did he get the legendary forensic scientist to give him, Gage Morrow, a recommendation letter?
Gage turned around to face me. “Yeah, I worked with him this summer on a lead. My drone work came in handy.”
My father patted him on the back before turning down the hallway. “You’ll have to tell me more about it at the lab, Mr. Morrow. For now, my lady awaits. You never keep a lady waiting. If this is the last time I see you, it’s because I am either going out to get your mother’s favorite candy before the movie or to commit a heinous crime. I’ll decide in the car, whatever your mother is into. Pais, keep your phone on tonight.”
“At least you’ll know where to hide the body and cover up the evidence,” Gage said.
Both my father and I shot him a look. We’d never thought about that.
“Good one, son.”
The front door closed behind my dad, and they left me standing in the middle of the dining room with Gage and nothing to say other than that I was feeling, well, jealous. Even though we were on separate spectrums of forensic science, I wondered if he could beat me in this challenge I was creating in my head.
Just based on skills alone. Especially now I knew he liked cemeteries, too.
“Your father loves me already.” He smirked at me, pointing toward the doorway.
“You’re right. I don’t need your help.” It came out a lot harsher than I wanted it to.
“Well, I have to,” he says. “We need to help each other, or I’ll do it all on my own. I need one more recommendation and the mayor would be key.”
Hurt, I didn’t know what to say. “I’m trying to win it, too, you know.”
“Well, we could both use it, and we’re both awesome people, so why don’t we just collaborate?” he asks.
“We’re not Beyoncé and Jay-Z,” I told him with an eye roll.
“You’re right, we’re not musical pioneers. But you know what we can be? Historical pioneers. Maybe we can write a book together. Who knows?” He was smiling at me, and I was not buying it.
“I saw that you worked at Sleepy Hollow?” I pointed to his hat, fighting another eye roll that really wanted to come out.
He took it off to reveal a thick mop of brown, slightly curly hair, just like his brothers. He shrugged. “Yeah, I did it for a season two years ago for volunteer work. I liked it. I could take a bunch of amazing aerial shots from my drone.”
“Your drone?” I asked, before sitting back down at my seat.
“Yeah. I work a lot with drones, radar, and photography in my studies of forensics. I’m also learning the hematology side of it because it’s a steadier job in a health lab than a photography lab.”
His laugh was genuine, but also sad-sounding.
He played with the hat in his hands for a moment before putting it back on to cover up his hair. “It’s hard to brush,” he said in explanation. “You know, my heritage.”
For a moment, I’d forgotten that all of his brothers and Raimy had a parent who is African-American and a parent from Germany. Such a unique mix, but it always took a moment to see both sides of genetics in their features. He had a ton of freckles from his mother, thick eyebrows and slightly larger lips from his father, and always sun-kissed skin that was a mix of his parents, making him seem like he had been to the beach even in the winter.
“That’s pretty cool,” I said, trying to encourage him and not to let him see I’d detected the sorrow in his laugh. It wasn’t quite convincing enough. “If you don’t mind me asking, how does one use drones to help with cemetery studies?”
He smirked. “You’ll know when I find Daniel Lockwood before you.”
There it was, the challenge. I knew this conversation wasn’t cordial.
“I knew it,” I told him, pointing my index finger at him. “You’re trying to take my recommendation letter.”
“I’m not trying to, I’m going to.” He smirked again, leaning back in his chair. “But I think you do have the leg up with all of your knowledge on the cemeteries in Pine Grove.”
“You don’t know them?” I asked and pointed to his shirt.
He looked down and pulled at the fabric. “It doesn’t mean that I know the cemeteries. It just means I like the content in their newsletters.”
I nodded skeptically, squinting my eyes at him.
“Okay,” I started. “Let’s agree to assist each other, but until the day comes where one of us has a breakthrough, then we will drop our agreement. Then, it’s everyone for themselves.”
“More like the Hunger Games.”
I tilted my head at him. “We’re getting that fierce? Do I get to kill you then?”
He put his hand out for me to shake. “Only if it’s like Romeo and Juliet.”
I put my hand out but let him come to my hand instead of me grasping his. “I’m going to make you work for this, Gage.”
“I respect that.”
We shook. It was about five shakes before I tried to remove my hand from his grasp, but he didn’t let go.
He leaned forward, moving his chair closer to mine. His knee touched mine in the process, and both of us shifted.
“Tell me,” he said, “why do you think research of records will tell you where the graves are?”
“It’s hard evidence. Written and recorded by people from that time period.”
“And what if there are no records? What are you going to do then?”
“I’m going to try alternative methods.”
“And those would be?”
I leaned closer to him, forgetting for a moment we were still holding our handshake. “I will not give you my method; that would be stupid.”
He leaned forward even more. It surprised me at how close he was to my face, but the overwhelming competitiveness that my parents had instilled in me was overtaking any other emotion. “I’ve already given you a hint, you know.”
I dropped his hand, and at that moment I realized he wasn’t grasping it anymore, it was just me holding his hand.
Wiping my palm, which was heavily sweaty on my shorts, I shook my head. “I don’t understand what you mean.”
He shifted his chair still closer to mine. “I won’t go further into any details.” He shrugged. “I think I already kno
w where they are buried.”
Now it was my turn to stand. “You sound like a serial killer. You’d fit right in on CSI, but not as someone on the team.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I don’t.”
“Okay.” He started toward the doorway to head back outside. My cell phone rain in my right front pocket and the mocking jay whistle from the Hunger Games erupted into the room eerily. Gage lifts three fingers up in a salute. “May the odds be ever in your favor.”
I scoffed again. “Funny.”
“How about this?” he asks, shoving both of his hands into his pockets looking for something.
“What do you need?” His car keys? Wallet? Phone? Did he forget something?
He winced as he pushed down farther into his pockets before he smiled and revealed he was searching for a coin but looked more like a subway token or one of the coins you get a Chuck-E-Cheese’s. “Movie on me if you guess what it’ll land on. Heads or tails?”
“Heads.”
I thought of John Doe, who was upstairs. Since he couldn’t vote, I’d have to represent him somehow.
Gage nodded before tossing the coin into the air. We both watched it rise and then drop back down into his palm. He squeezed it before slapping it onto the back of his left hand.
“What do you think it is?”
I shrugged. “If the coin is smart, it’ll be heads.”
“Do you think it will be, though?”
I nodded. “I do.”
“You seem confident.”
“Always.”
He lifted his right hand slowly to reveal that the coin was heads side up. I was correct.
He laughed. “I guess the odds are in your favor. Looks like it’s drive-in on me?”
“Actually, I think I’ll just stay here,” I told him, looking at my feet. “But maybe another time.”
“If you suddenly want to see a movie, come by the drive-in tonight and we can go over our plan if you want.” He has his hand on the door handle to go into the sunroom before he turned around again. “On a serious note, I hope you find them before I do. I think what you’re doing with your studies is pretty remarkable.”
For a moment, the competitive vibe in the room was gone. I was sure he was being truthful.
“Thank you,” I returned, pushing in both of our chairs under the table. Even though the boy said “sir,” he didn’t have the courtesy to push in his chair? “I’m still surprised after all these years of being friends with Raimy that we’ve never really talked before.”
“I’m not sure that’s all true. We’ve had conversations before.” He headed back toward to the bonfire.
“When?” No way. I would have remembered at least one conversation.
“Also, one more thing,” he said, ignoring my question as he stopped just before the door to the sunroom. “I totally wore these,” he gestured to his hat and shirt, “to freak you out. I never wear these.”
“That’s cruel,” I joked, and he laughed. It was loud but softened at the end. It took me by surprise, as he was a relatively quieter speaker.
“I have to head out now to set up the equipment for the movie tonight.” He pulled the coin out again. “Heads or tails?”
“Tails.” I folded my arms across my chest and shrugged. “Have to switch it up sometimes.”
He flipped the coin and revealed it was tails.
Gage shook his head in disbelief and then put the coin back into his pocket. “You win.”
“What was the coin toss for?” I leaned up against the island.
“The movie tonight.” He pushed down slightly on the handle. “It’ll be Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner.”
“Great movie. Katharine Hepburn was great in that film.”
He let go of the handle. “You know classic films?”
“I confess. Anything in black-and-white is my weakness.”
“I could tell by your wardrobe. It’s usually some form of those colors or shades. You have good taste.”
With that, he pushed open the door and walked out to the bonfire. Raimy and Nat’s eyes shot up toward him as he emerged. He paused for a moment and shut the door, turning back around toward me. “Want to come?”
I now understood why the Mayor chose him to be my opponent. He was nice, quiet, and easy on the eyes. I bet he did it to distract me. He knew some about history and gravestone studies, but it wasn’t his specialty. It seemed cameras, videos, and movies were more his focus.
This should be a piece of cake or a pile of pancakes. Whichever I prefer to use metaphorically, I’ll eat when I win.
But if I had to work with him, I might as well understand how he works a little better, right?
“If you’re offering.”
He smiled and nodded, leaning back awkwardly to push open the door for me. “After you.”
“Hey Nat?” I didn’t look away from Gage. “Can you take care of the fire?” Before I even heard him say yes or no, I walked toward the driveway.
Gage followed me only a pace behind and I heard him rustling in his torn-up backpack for his keys. When they emerged, I couldn’t help but internally giggle at the Rubik’s cube key chain that hung off the end of his lanyard.
“Which one is yours?” I asked him as I looked out at the six cars that lined the driveway.
I followed his point toward a Jeep Wrangler. “What is the heck is that?” I scoff. “That’s not a car.”
As we approach the Jeep, I’m amazed at how much damage there is to it and how old it is.
“You’re correct. This is a Jeep, not a car.”
Most of the Wrangler is forest green, except for the doors, which are a dark grey color, and the black hardtop. They definitely were after-thoughts, or replaced after some kind of damage. The wheels looked new, though.
“I’m not getting into that.” As I get close enough to see the details, I notice the rust trailing on the edge of the wheel arch above the tire. “It’s going to fall apart.”
“The only thing that will fall apart is you melting in the rain. I don’t want to be blamed for that.” He stepped in front of me and opened the door. It creaked loudly until he couldn’t open it anymore. It wasn’t even halfway to where the maximum angle should be.
I stood still. “Seriously?”
He waited and waved me in. “Your choice. Sparky and I are waiting.”
I rolled my eyes. “If I die or if I get tetanus, I swear…”
He closed the door behind me as I bounced on the old leather seats. At least, I thought they were leather. I grasped tightly onto my bag, worried about putting into the floor below me. What if it rusted out as we drove?
Gage opens the driver’s side door that didn’t sound as creaky as mine — he didn’t have a lot of passengers that he needed to oil the door more often for. When he sat down, tossing his backpack into the seatless open area behind us, the Jeep rocked back and forth momentarily. Bad shocks. Even better.
“How’s your luck?” He looked at me and winked before putting the keys into the ignition and pushed hard to start the Jeep. It took a few times to get it to turn over completely and stared at the gauges more than anywhere. “Good—you’re lucky.”
“Because I made the car start?”
He nodded and put his seatbelt on. “Safety first.”
I nodded slowly. I can’t believe I’m in this car right now. If I die here today, it will be in a vehicle called Sparky. Who the hell names1 a car that? On second thought, I probably don’t want to know why.
Music played over the radio. It was classic rock, and I watched out of the corner of my eye as Gage nodded his head to the guitar. I’d give it to him—he didn’t have horrible taste, at least in music.
I looked back into the back area of the Jeep where he’d thrown his backpack. It was barren and used for trunk space, and there were two extra spare tires in the back. I wondered if that was a warning sign. The back of the hardtop didn’t have a window with glass, but a piece of saran wrap taped tightly to
the hardtop. “Why do you not have a back window?”
He turned around to see what I was looking at and then focused his eyes back out the windshield.
“It blew out when Rab threw a basketball and hit what was that window instead of the hoop.” He laughed and peered over at me and saw I wasn’t sharing the joke. “Oh, come on, it’s not that bad. Obviously you wouldn’t want to leave a laptop in here. You wouldn’t want to leave a human baby in here. You wouldn’t want to leave anything in here that you wouldn’t want taken, so, you know, you can leave a dog maybe, you can leave snacks, you can leave other things. But, probably don’t leave a baby or a laptop.”
What? “In what world do you live in?”
The trees whizzed by us as we drove down the main road in Pine Grove. “Just humor me for a minute.” Gage shifted the Jeep, and it made a God-awful noise. I gripped the edge of my seat. “Where do you think Daniel Lockwood is?”
I whip toward him, away from the dirty floor. “If I knew, we wouldn’t be here today. I’d already be at home, enjoying a cup of tea after the Mayor would shake my hand on a job well done.”
He smiled at me. “Seriously? You need to get off your high horse and remember we’re a team here.”
“Me?” I huffed at him and put my saddlebag onto the floor so I could shift slightly in my seat toward him. I hoped to God that this thing had working airbags. “You’re the one making snarky comment after snarky comment like you know it and think you’re so funny. Well, you’re not.”
I sit back in my chair. Gage blinks a few times and then looks over at me. “Okay, you’re right. I’ll level with you. I do—do that.” He rolled around his head like he had a hard time admitting it but broke through that feeling. “But you don’t have your shit together, either.”
I looked out the window at Main Street. “No. But, does any seventeen-year-old?”
There was silence for a few seconds until he laughed.
“I think the only seventeen-year-old who will is your sister when she gets older. I’m probably going to be working for her. She was at the Inn the other night when I went there, and she was legit checking people in. It was really messing with my mind.”
I laughed. I never thought I’d laugh with Gage Morrow. But here it was, a real laugh. It was raw, and it felt uncomfortable at first, but I enjoyed it and smiled over at him.