Watching, Waiting: A SHORT Story

by Matt Shaw

  As I got near them, I slammed on the brakes and skidded to a halt inches away from one of the young lad’s well cleaned and polished car. I couldn’t help but laugh as the group picked themselves up from where they’d hit the ground, to avoid being rammed.

  “What’s your problem, old-timer?” one of them yelled.

  Another leaned in and grabbed me by the shirt. I slammed the car into reverse and accelerated backwards. The hand - gripping my shirt - released me but not through a choice of their own. Again I slammed on the brakes causing the car to screech to another halt. I was just sitting there with a grin on my face as the youths all stood there, by their own cars, shouting at me. Some of them were giving me the finger whilst others were gathering up their rubbish from where they’d earlier dropped it - despite being close to a bin. Slowly I raised my middle finger to the group before selecting first gear. They responded by throwing their empty packages towards my car. I laughed again as the rubbish bounced off the metalwork. I drive a KIA. Do they really think I care about the bodywork?

  I flashed the group a wink and pulled away from the carpark. A creeping satisfaction that I’d won. A little taste before the main fight.

  Wednesday

  07:45

  It hadn’t been the most comfortable of nights sleeping on the sofa. Having finally got home, a little after midnight, there was a part of me which considered going on up to the bedroom and creeping into the bed but I knew - with my luck - I’d wake Kathy and the arguing would start again. Sleeping on the sofa was easier.

  My mobile phone’s shrill alarm woke me with a start, pulling me from a dream of happier days. Happier days which were clouded in grey within the first couple of minutes of being awake just as they always were. I should be used to it by now. This is my life. This is all I have. There’s no time to lie here feeling sorry for myself. I need to get up and get out, just as I had the previous day.

  I flung the spare duvet off my aching body and swung my feet to the floor. As I stood up I felt every part of my spine click, from the top down to the bottom. The sofa clearly doesn’t offer proper back support. I threw my clothes on after picking them up from the floor where I had flung them the previous night. They could probably do with an iron, or even a fresh change of clothes, but I do not have the time. Something to sort later.

  Walking through to the kitchen I was surprised to see Kathy standing by the sink. She was staring out of the window with a slice of toast in her hand. There was a mug of tea by her side.

  “You okay?” I asked. I was almost afraid to ask as my mind questioned whether she was still angry from the previous night. She didn’t answer me. It annoys me how does she that from time to time. I’ll be there chatting away, quite happily, and she’ll be completely ignoring me as though her mind is somewhere else completely. I looked around the kitchen work-tops in the hope I’d spot a fresh mug of tea and slice of toast for me. No such joy. Guess I’m supposed to make my own then. I guess it also answers the question as to whether she is still angry with me.

  I walked over to the bread bin and opened it only to see she had taken the last slice. No tea-bags left in the tin either. Great.

  “You can go shopping,” she said quietly, her eyes still fixed upon whatever had caught her attention outside. “Seeing as you’re not going to work.”

  I didn’t have the time to get into it now. Always running out of time. Regardless, I turned to her so she could have her say and - maybe - let me have mine or at least set a time to do so. No joy though as she turned her back on me.

  “We’ll talk when I get back,” I told her. I won’t allow the silent treatment forever. She is being ridiculous. Fair enough, I lied and have been lying but… I did it for a reason. Maybe I should just tell her the truth? No. I can’t. She’ll leave me. I know she will. She won’t understand. No one will. They’ll just label me a criminal and lock me up, throwing away the key no doubt - unless she talks me out of it that is but, as previously said, my mind is made up. I need to do this.

  Before I said something I regretted, I turned away and walked from the room. Collecting my keys from the hallway, I left the house and got back into the car once more.

  7:51am. I’ll be lucky to make it in time.

  08:11

  Damned traffic is always the same at this time of the morning. The only reason I didn’t give up straight away, and turn back home until lunch-time is because I had hoped the bus had been caught in the same traffic as me.

  I took the final turn towards the required bus-stop in the hope of seeing a large group of teenagers hanging around in the distance where the stop was. Not a soul present other than an old lady waiting at the same stop. I pulled up next to her and wound the window down.

  “Excuse me,” I said, catching her attention. She looked at me with suspicion in her eyes. “I’m guessing all the school kids have been collected already?” I said, putting her out of her misery.

  She nodded, “Yes. A few minutes ago,” she said. She visibly relaxed. What was she expecting? Was I supposed to be selling her something from the road? Was she expecting me to snatch her from the streets? I might be a bad man but I haven’t stooped to that level yet.

  “My son,” I explained quickly, “he left his lunch at home. I was hoping to catch him.”

  She shrugged as there was nothing she could do about ‘my situation’, “Sorry.”

  “Not as sorry as him come lunch-time,” I said. I did the window up and headed off down the road, in the same direction the bus would have gone. It has to make other stops along the way before it gets to the school gates. I might be able to catch up with it.

  Bottom of the road, I turned right. An annoying trip around the houses coming up as I search for the bus. I only hope he is on it. If he is then I know that was definitely his stop. If he wasn’t on it, then seeing him there the other day was nothing more than a fluke. Perhaps he had been staying around a friend’s house? No. Don’t think like that. Be optimistic. That was his stop. He lives somewhere close-by. Please let that be true. This is the closest I have come to tracking him down now and - to have come this far - this has taken weeks. I want to move things forward, not backwards by having to restart the search. Please let that have been his stop.

  Left turn. The bus is at the other end of the road. Bingo.

  I pressed my foot down on the accelerator, ignoring the sign posts warning me to keep my speed to twenty. At twenty miles per hour, this adverts say, you’re less likely to kill a child but what if they deserve to die? No one ever considers that, do they?

  My mind started flitting to what would happen if I did find his home address. I could watch him for a while and then, when he was alone, I could strike. If I was quick enough, and quiet enough, I could be in and before anyone knew what had happened we would be long gone. At last, just the two of us. Thoughts of what I wanted to do to him disappeared, only to be replaced with images of my wife and daughter. Both of them seeing the headlines when my secret was discovered. Both of them looking hurt. Shake those thoughts from your head, Will, you can’t let that put you off. You’ve been thinking about this for too long now to just let it go. You can’t go on living a lie and pretending everything is fine. You owe it to yourself to act upon this.

  Behind the bus now. I reached across to the glove compartment and pulled out my sunglasses. The weather outside is bright, sure, but it does not warrant the glasses. Their only purpose here is to help disguise my face on the off-chance I do happen to catch sight of him.

  The bus pulled up at the next stop and - much to the annoyance of the car behind me - I pulled up too. Not to the side of the road but behind the bus as though I couldn’t get by him, despite their being no oncoming traffic and plenty of room to do so. The car behind me beeped but I ignored it. They can fucking wait. That’s the problem with the world today, everyone is in such a god-damned hurry. Another beep, longer this time as though the driver was really pressing down on his horn. Now he was revving his engine too. I didn’t need to check
my rear-view mirror to know it must have been a younger driver. Another press of the horn. I noticed some of the lads, sitting at the back of the bus, turned around to see what was going on.

  There!

  There he is!

  The son of a bitch. Top deck, sitting at the back with his friends. He was looking down at my car and the one behind. I sank back in my seat changing the angle we shared. I could no longer see him and he could no longer see me. I don’t need to see him now. Not now I know he is definitely up there.

  The bus indicated right and pulled away from the side of the road having let more children onboard. I followed at a sensible distance. The driver behind me was zig-zagging from side to side and driving right up to my bumper, trying to push me into going faster. I’m not in a hurry. I slowed down just to annoy him more.

  By 8:45am the bus pulled up outside the school gates. I pulled up against the kerb, just before the bus’s drop-off point. From here I can see all of the youths who get off. They jump off the bus, turn towards me, walk down the pavement a little way and then turn right into the school gate. I get to see each and every one of the little fuckers.

  To remain as inconspicuous as possible, I sank down a little more in my seat. Hopefully no one will pay me any attention. I’m just another parent sitting in his car, having dropped his child off at school for the day. Nothing more and nothing less.

  Partially hidden I watched as a large group of youths jumped from the bus and started walking towards the school gate. From behind, they were shoved to one side as he, Travis, pushed through. A look on his face - and a look on the faces of the youths he shoved his way through - suggested they weren’t friends and he was merely playing up to the alpha-male status his bullying ways had ‘earned’ him. Temptation was great to restart the car engine and accelerate straight into him - pinning the shit between bonnet and the metal railings surrounding the school’s property.

  With him having successfully pushed his way through, it wasn’t long before his friends did the same - re-joining him by the school gates. Some of the faces I recognised, some of them were new to me. They don’t interest me though. They’re simply the sheep. When he is with me, and the two of us leave, they will find someone else to follow. Hopefully a better role-model than him. The fact I recognise them means nothing. When this is done, their faces will soon fade to nothing. His face - his face will stick with me forever.

  To my surprise he - and his minions - turned into the school gates and continued towards the main building. And here was me thinking he was going to play truant again, unless - like yesterday - it is only the afternoons he disappears for. Goes to register in the morning to at least give the impression he was in and - then - goes out at lunchtime whilst leading his friends astray. It might not be too late for them, though, like it is for him.

  I continued watching until he disappeared in through the double doors of the old building. I waited an extra couple of minutes, unsure as to whether he’d come back out although I did doubt it. Something in my brain kept me there. More pupils went in, none came out.

  12:35

  I had gone home to talk to Kathy but she wasn’t there by the time I got there. I presumed she’d left for work. There were no notes so clearly she was still in a mood with me. Otherwise she’d have left something like ‘hope you have a good day’ or ‘love you’ and a little picture of a heart. She left them for me, I left them for her. Stephanie was never impressed when she found them and nor was she impressed when we left them for her, just to creep her out. That was back when times used to be happier.

  I spent the morning on the Internet, looking up various News Reports on the Internet and getting myself more and more wound up with how I felt about the world today. I remember, growing up, it used to be a question of playing outside in the streets with your front doors open. Not a care in the world. And if your mum (or dad) popped out to visit the next door neighbour, they never worried about locking the door. Sometimes, even though you were in the street playing, they still didn’t bother closing the door. The house would be completely empty. And wars - they never happened on our own turf. Bad crimes, wars… It was always somewhere else. Nowadays though it’s all you hear about; people dying, fights breaking out, corruption. The world has gone to shit and we might not be on talking terms right now but my wife knows it too. So does my daughter. Hell, back when I was younger, the News Programmes often ended with a funny story to lighten the mood. They’d talk of this and that in countries overseas and then end on something like a piano-playing cat. Now the programmes end with just more shit to stress you out with.

  I left the house in plenty of time to drive back here, to the school. I didn’t want to miss the kids coming out for lunch-time; the older children being allowed to leave the premises and the younger ones being forced to stay in and play ball games on the field. Hopefully he will come out again. The weather is good, the sun is shining now… I’m sure he will be tempted back to the park with his friends. Better yet if he decides to pop home. Without the morning traffic, it wouldn’t take long for the bus to take him there. I doubt that will be an option though.

  Sitting here, looking at the school, and I feel puzzled. It’s an expensive place to send your children. Kathy and I couldn’t afford to send Stephanie here, not that we were unhappy with where we sent her. Kids got in here thanks to rich parents or earning a placement through a scholarship, or some similar scheme. Travis can’t be bright. He can’t be. Which means his parents, whoever they are, must be rich. I wonder whether they’re as proud of their son as I am of Stephanie? How could you be proud of someone like that, parent or not?

  With the windows open I heard the school bell echo through the large building, across the fields. Lunch-time. I can imagine the chaos erupting around the hallways now; doors swinging open, kids running everywhere - each of them desperate to get to the front of the lunch queue before anyone beat them to it. Of course there’d be teachers shouting at them not to run, but ultimately the place would definitely be chaotic. I feel safe in the relative comfort of my car.

  12:51

  Here he comes now, walking down the long driveway with some of the group I had seen him with earlier. He looks as though he is in a bad mood. Certainly not smiling as he had been this morning when I saw him. Has he had a bad day? Maybe I should get out and offer him some comfort? A shoulder to cry on perhaps? I laughed to myself without taking my eyes from the group. They exited the school premises and crossed the road just in front of my car, once again forcing me to sink back in my chair. I need not have worried, they weren’t bothered by me. I guess they each had fish and chips on their minds from the shop a little further down the road. One fish and chip shop, one newsagent - these are the shops for the students - and one wine merchant, a shop for the teachers.

  Sitting here now, I started to regret confronting him in the park yesterday. Had I not done so, I could have followed him on foot now. If he hopped on a bus, down the road, I too could have done the same. But now I’m stuck. If I follow him, he might recognise me although - truth be told - he should have yesterday too. The fact he didn’t, just makes him even more hateful. Regardless of how I feel though, I’m stuck. I can’t follow him down the road on foot and I can’t exactly use the car; driving behind him at a snail’s pace. I can’t let him get away again though. I want this done. Today. I need to. For the sake of my marriage and my sanity I need to do it today.

  My mobile phone, resting in my jacket pocket, vibrated for my attention. I pulled it out and looked at the screen. Another call from an unknown number. I dismissed it. Now is not the time. Now is definitely not the time. If it was important, they’d leave me a message. Deal with it later.

  Travis and his little friends are further down the road now. If I follow from here, I should be okay. I opened the car door and climbed out, closing it quietly behind me. They’re a pretty long way away from me now but I don’t want them turning around because of a loud noise. Car shut, I started walking after them.

&
nbsp; I could hear them laughing. Joking around without a care in the world. In a way - as sick as it sounds - I actually feel a little jealous of them. I don’t recall a time when I felt I could laugh in such a way. I’m not sure what they were talking about; not close enough to hear it properly and - to be honest - I’m not sure I want to be.

  I quickened my pace as they disappeared around the corner. It is fairly obvious they are going to the shops but, even so, I don’t want to risk losing them. As I keep telling myself, today is the day. By the end of the day, everything will be better and I will have him. Just the two of us and no one else to get in our way.

  A pang of excitement. Excitement and sorrow. Sorrow? So much of my time has been dedicated to this day, I guess… What happens afterwards? Don’t think about that now. So much to do.

  I turned the corner just as they disappeared into the newsagents. Okay, surprising, I had guessed they’d have been after fish and chips. But then maybe they’re just stealing themselves some dessert?

  I hung back on the corner. When they come back out, I can disappear easily depending on which way they travel. They might come back this way, in which case I can run back to the car, or they might head on for the bus stop around the next corner - away from prying eyes of possible school teachers out for a walk.

  All I wanted to do was find where the little shit lived. Easier said than done. I had tried the Internet, using people with his surname and nothing. At least nothing for free. I could have probably hired someone to find him for me but then I wouldn’t have remained anonymous and that’s vital. I need to remain anonymous. Especially from Kathy and Stephanie. Speaking of which…