Sleight

by Tom Twitchel

  “Thanks for the lift,” I said as he rolled it down. Maddy got out on her side and came around to give me a hug.

  “That’s it?” asked Ty. “Poor guy’s doomed and all you’re going to do is give him a hug?”

  Maddy let go of me and threw an awkward punch through Ty’s open window. He leaned away, laughing, winking at me.

  Flushed and clearly irritated Maddy spat a rude comment in Ty’s general direction, gave me another quick hug and ran to the passenger’s side. As soon as she got in she started in on Ty. As he pulled away I could hear him scoffing at her high pitched scolding.

  Doomed? What did that mean?

  Typically I would waste time trying to unravel the nuances of what a comment like that meant; a waste of time, because stressing over it wouldn’t generate an answer. I pushed it to the back of my mind. I needed to get my head clear for my meeting with Mr. Conroy.

  When I walked into the admin offices the secretary and faculty members that were present were distracted, probably pre-occupied with last minute Christmas tasks and trying to wrap up the last week of school before the Christmas break.

  I asked to speak with Mr. Conroy and was told to take a seat. I sat down and pulled a large manila envelope from inside my jacket. The edges had gotten crimped and I absentmindedly smoothed them out.

  “To what do I owe this surprise visit?”

  I looked up and saw Mr. Conroy’s friendly face staring down at me.

  “I needed to talk with you and give you this,” I said, standing up and handing him the envelope.

  His smile faded a bit as he took the envelope. He hefted it, appraising its weight. “What’s this?”

  “What I need to talk to you about,” I said.

  “Mm. Okay, let’s have that talk,” he said, turning and waving at me to follow him.

  I’d spent more time in his office than I would have liked but my relationship with him had made most of those sessions fairly positive, all things considered. I wasn’t sure how he was going to take my carefully prepared plan but I was committed to seeing it through. We stepped into his open office and he closed the door. He took a seat behind his gray desk and nodded toward a chair.

  “Have a seat,” he said.

  He put the envelope on the desk and tapped it with a long bony finger. His trademark crew cut was a little longer than usual. The gray hair at the temples was more pronounced.

  “What’s this all about Benny?”

  Swallowing and clearing my throat, I took a deep breath.

  “I’m leaving school.”

  His eyebrows rose. “You’re what?”

  “I’m going to be homeschooled starting with the new semester. I figure I can test out early and apply to college by the end of the school year,” I said, squirming on my seat.

  Instead of opening the envelope he pushed it aside and leaned back in his chair.

  “Really,” he said. It was a statement, not a question.

  I nodded. The small room suddenly felt too warm.

  “Obviously you’ve talked this over with your grandfather and your mother. Why aren’t they here with you?”

  “He’s just recovering from his illness. I didn’t want to ask him to come all the way here just to deliver paperwork. And my mom’s working. The state education site just said that I needed the forms filled out and signed by a legal guardian.”

  “Right. Right.” He nodded. “Sam’s been expelled and I’m told he’s being investigated for some issues beyond theft and blackmailing students. Does that have anything to do with this?”

  “A little, but mostly it’s me wanting to focus on my studies and fast tracking to college. I can’t do that here.”

  “You know that isn’t entirely true, right?” he asked.

  I swallowed again. My mouth was dry. “Yeah, but I’m tired of all the drama. I just want to graduate and get on with stuff.”

  “Stuff. You’re in the middle of your sophomore year and you want to graduate early? Why are you putting that pressure on yourself?”

  It seemed like a good time to trot out a genius nonverbal response.

  “A shrug? That’s the answer I get from a very smart young man who’s preparing to leave school?”

  I considered shrugging again, but figured that would be disrespectful. “It seemed like the same question I already answered.” It was harder to have the conversation than I had anticipated. I liked Mr. Conroy and respected him. I wasn’t doing anything wrong but I was feeling like I had let him down.

  “Benjamin, is this really how you and I communicate?” More guilt.

  “No, it’s not. I just want to move on,” I said. I couldn’t tell him that the prime motivation was the creeping overlap of the knack world. Which was probably going to turn in a bad direction when Justine’s being in the hospital got out. Kayla would be both pissed and vindicated. I wasn’t feeling all that bad about avoiding her.

  “I can’t force you to give me the—”

  The door opened and Miss Black entered the office. Mr. Conroy stopped in midsentence, his mouth twisted in frustration at the interruption.

  “Well, if it isn’t two of my very favorite people,” she said as she took a seat in the chair next to me. I remembered her request the last time we’d spoken. My stomach rumbled.

  She glanced at Mr. Conroy. “So, what are the two of you talking about?”

  Without touching the envelope that lay on the desk, Mr. Conroy cleared his throat. “Benjamin is preparing to leave Roosevelt and begin homeschooling. Immediately it appears.”

  She turned to me, her eyes slitting. “Is that so?”

  I nodded, totally off my game now that I was being confronted by two faculty members at once.

  “Hmm. Well we’ll need to see that all of the appropriate paperwork is processed before we release you to an accredited homeschool situation,” she said.

  “I wasn’t planning on coming back,” I managed to squeak out.

  “Really? I think I might have one or two things to say about that.” She smiled at me. It was a very creepy and possessive smile. My knack sense made the hair on my arms dance and I reached out to get a vibe on her. Anger. Manipulation and maneuvering were at the forefront of her mind.

  “I think all of the paperwork is right. My mom filled it out.” I allowed my eyes to wander to the envelope.

  Her eyes flicked in that direction and she seemed to notice it for the first time. She reached out a hand and pulled it toward her.

  “Would this be the paperwork in question?” she took the envelope off the desk and held it in both hands. “Your mother filled it out?” I didn’t respond and her creepy smile bloomed again. “Not your father?”

  Ever heard the phrase ‘his blood ran cold’? The reference didn’t strike me as offhanded. The temperature in the room seemed to have plummeted.

  “No?” she asked coyly. “I thought not.” She tapped the envelope with a finger. “This is the second packet of paperwork concerning you that I’ve seen today.”

  A sick feeling swept through me. I smelled Baffle.

  “Yes, it would seem that you might not be too surprised by that. It was sent to my office anonymously, but the things it disclosed, quite amazing.”

  “Mirabel, what are you—” started Mr. Conroy, but a finger held up by Miss Black stopped him.

  “Hold that question Frank. Let’s put a pin in that. As to what was in the package I received, would you like to guess Benjamin?” she asked me, a smirk twisting her lips.

  “No,” I said.

  “Not surprising,” she said. “It would seem that there are some inconsistencies in your background. But,” she leaned toward me, “I’m willing to put off any uncomfortable discussion and possibly ignore what might very well be someone’s attempt to smear the reputation of an unqualified hero.”

  Numbness and a feeling of being cornered crept up on me. She’d maneuvered like this the last time we’d spoken. Big nasty threatening circumstances and the promise of making it go away for
a favor. It was part of why I wanted out of Roosevelt.

  “Um, yeah. I can’t actually go to that conference with you after all,” I said. I’d timed my little coup to coincide with it, counting on it creating a get-out-of-jail-free-card.

  She frowned. “I believe you’ll need to rethink that.” She rolled the envelope into a tube. “Any discrepancies in this material pertaining to...legal names would certainly slow down the process.”

  Mr. Conroy frowned. “What’s going on here? I’d like to understand what you’re referring to Miss Black.”

  “Frank, I think that will be all. Would you leave Benjamin and me to finish this matter in private?”

  Hesitating, Mr. Conroy stood up, paused again, and then stalked out, leaving the door open. Miss Black got up and closed it. She walked behind the desk and sat in Mr. Conroy’s chair. She placed both hands on the table in front of her.

  “You’re going to that conference with me young man. You’re going to attend, you’ll be cooperative and you’ll be cordial in all respects.” She glared at me, all pretense of civility having gone out the door with Mr. Conroy. “And if you behave I won’t need to call Child Protective Services and have them transport you back to San Diego. Are we clear?”

  I clenched my jaw and nodded. I had no doubt that this was more of Baffle’s screwing with me. I hadn’t anticipated him working overtime to expose me. All the more reason to finish my high school career from home.

  She leaned back, the winter light casting blue shadows on her face. “In fact, I think you’ll ride with me. Just to make sure you don’t get lost.” She looked at her watch. “My car will be out front at one thirty. Make sure you’re out on the front steps on time.”

  I nodded again, my mind racing.

  Another predatory grin cracked her lips. “Don’t make me come looking for you.”

  EIGHTY-ONE: THE FIRE

  I SLUNK DOWN the hall, not quite the triumphant, walk of freedom I’d envisioned. When I walked into homeroom I was so preoccupied with my thoughts that when I looked over at Justine’s desk I was surprised to see it was empty, reminded that she wasn’t coming back to school. Probably never.

  It was depressing.

  Her absence and the partial fail of my plan made my first class of the day one of the longest hours I’d ever spent in school. When the first bell rang I bolted and found a secluded corner in the main courtyard. If I took off what would Miss Black do? Screw with my plan for being homeschooled for sure. Possibly turn over the packet that Baffle had sent her to the CPS. That would lead to other problems. Big ones, that would be way worse than having to finish my sophomore year at Roosevelt.

  I was stuck.

  When the second bell rang, I distractedly followed the flow of students to my second period class. Halfway down the hall Mr. Conroy caught up with me.

  “Hold up there a second Benny, let’s have a chat,” he said.

  “Uh, sure. Right here?” I asked.

  “No, follow me.” He walked ahead and led me to the multi-purpose room which was empty. When we had both stepped inside and the door had closed behind us he turned to me.

  “I want to know exactly what is going on between you and Principal Black,” he demanded.

  I didn’t even consider snowing him. We had long ago come to an unspoken agreement that we wouldn’t BS each other. That put me in a bind because if I totally spilled all of the details I would have to clue him in to information that could make me vulnerable.

  So how to answer him? I decided to walk a very thin line that would be the truth without letting every single cat out of the dang bag.

  “Remember when I told you about how I got my limp?” I asked. I had shared that little tidbit with him months ago in the middle of a very raw emotional discussion.

  His shoulders drooped and he grimaced. “Yes, of course I do.”

  “Well that was all true. What I didn’t tell you is that I came to Seattle the same night. On a bus. Without telling my dad.”

  It was almost as though I could see a light bulb turn on in his head as realization dawned on him.

  “So you came to live with your grandfather but your dad doesn’t know where you are? How would he not realize that, and look for you here?” He frowned, obviously thinking a couple of steps ahead.

  “He doesn’t know where my grandfather is either,” I said.

  “And your mother. She’s hidden you from your father? Does that have something to do with the fact that I always interact with your grandfather, and not her?” His frown deepened.

  “My mom isn’t available. Mr. Goodturn isn’t my grandfather by blood,” I said.

  Mr. Conroy cocked his head to one side. “Not by blood. I think I’m getting the picture here. Who do you suppose sent that information to Principal Black?”

  “I’m sure it was Baffle. He has it in for me, and it’s his BS that is one of the reasons I want to finish school at home. I don’t want him messing with me.”

  He held up his hands. “So Miss Black is holding details of your past over your head? To force you to do what exactly? Attend some event?”

  “Yeah,” I said, nodding. “I’m a prop. The media draw to get her and whoever more time in the papers, or on TV.”

  “That wouldn’t be the civic awards at the Freemason’s this afternoon would it?”

  I shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.”

  Looking at his shoes and shaking his head in disgust he let a curse slip out. He glanced at me, blew out an exaggerated sigh and shook his head again.

  “Do you want me to try and intercede on your behalf?”

  “Whatever you do will make her mad enough to mess me over. I might not have to go today but she can make big trouble for me.”

  “Benny, you’re going to have this chasing you for years. Are you planning to get yourself emancipated as well? Your mom could get in big trouble. Taking a child and not informing the other parent of a child’s whereabouts is kidnapping.” He sucked in a deep breath through clenched teeth.

  “My mom can’t get in trouble. And my...plan is to have myself legally emancipated, but I have to get myself out of the public school system first. People like Baffle and Miss Black aren’t going to be able to mess with me and my friends anymore.”

  “Your friends? Who else is involved Benny?”

  That thread could not be pulled without divulging a bunch of other stuff that would make me sound like a crazy person or a borderline criminal. Probably both.

  “I can’t tell you that Mr. Conroy, without sharing stuff that isn’t mine to share. Not all of it anyway.”

  “Is Justine Winters mixed up in this other stuff?” he asked.

  I kept my mouth shut and tried not to break eye contact.

  “Is she in danger?” he asked, determined to press the issue. I couldn’t bear to tell him where she was.

  “She’s been ignoring almost everything I say ever since she came back,” I said.

  He ran a hand roughly over the top of his head, his crew cut springing right back into place. He swore again.

  “She’s absent today. I’m concerned about her, and you. Regardless of the things you’re trying to accomplish in your personal life, and the mistakes you may have made in the past, a public servant shouldn’t be attempting to blackmail a student. I think I’m going to make that my business.”

  I knew he was trying to be on my side. All it did was make me nervous.

  EIGHTY-TWO: FACING THE MUSIC

  A SHORT CONVERSATION between Mr. Conroy and my second period teacher got me into class without being sent to the office for being late. I can’t remember one thing that was said during that class. My mind was on other things.

  By the time I’d made it through fourth period and the mental fog had started to lift I was hungry. Guy’s got to eat right?

  Entering the cafeteria had been fraught with all sorts of possibilities in the past, but things had changed. Justine wouldn’t be there. Baffle was gone. The bullying pack of miscreants that had followed C
oby Munger had either been expelled or had their schedules rearranged so that they couldn’t interact with each other. Another visit from Sawyer’s sister Talia was extremely unlikely. So why was I on edge? One reason only.

  “Hey jerk,” said Kayla as she sat down across from me.

  Yeah, that would be the reason.

  “Go away Kayla. I’m not in the mood.”

  Wearing six shades of ragged brown and green clothing she looked like she’d dressed in leaves. Her makeup though, was straight out of a neon rainbow. I curiously reached out to sense her mood since she was ignoring my request. Not really angry. More worried, and afraid.

  “I’ll get up in a minute. But I wanted to ask you a question.”

  “Ask,” I said, taking the biggest possible bite of mac and cheese I could manage to stuff into my mouth.

  Giving me a disgusted look she leaned forward and dropped her voice to a whisper. “What is she doing?”

  I struggled to swallow my mouthful of bright orange pasta. The question itself threw me a little. It was almost desperate, pleading. Not Kayla’s typical bulldozing approach to conversing with me. It didn’t seem like she knew where Justine was.

  “She’s with her parents.” True, but I felt very crappy about misleading her.

  She snorted in disgust. “Her mother! That cray-cray bitch is part of the problem.”

  Her chin trembled and a tear brimmed over and ran down a cheek. Dark mascara ran, making her look like a teenaged female version of Alice Cooper. It hadn’t seemed possible, but I felt even worse.

  “She’s different since she came back. Sort of...dark. I’m worried about her Brown.”

  A pang of remorse made it hard for me to respond, I think my voice cracked a little.

  “Me too.”

  She got up and walked away. When she finally heard what had happened, and where it had happened, all of her nasty opinions about me would be confirmed. I tried to shake off the feeling of guilt that crawled down my back.

  No luck there.

  ***********************