by Tom Twitchel
Miss Black raised her chin, making a point of reading the paramedic’s nametag, and slowly walked to the door, the mayor falling in behind her. The D.A. gave me a two-fingered salute and followed. Squeezing my hand first, Mr. Conroy smiled at me and left too.
“You, young man, need some quiet. The medical team outside will be in here momentarily. They’ll check you over to make sure you’re okay. It’ll only take twenty or thirty minutes,” the medical technician said, looking kindly at me.
She opened up the kit, pulled some equipment out, and plugged in a monitor. Standing with her hands on her hips, she nodded in satisfaction and looked back at me.
Winking, she said, “Be right back,” and walked briskly out of the room.
I’d had enough. I needed to get home and warn Mr. Goodturn. No more questions or having to satisfy anyone else’s curiosity. And I had to figure out how to make sense of what had happened in the last few days.
Twenty minutes later, I was headed for the exit, my camouflage in place and a mean headache banging away in my head. I had no desire to talk to the press, politicians or pretty much anyone. I needed to get to Mr. Goodturn and try to figure out what had happened to Justine and Oso, to tell him about Miss Hoch and the fact that she was unaccounted for and have Breno rescued from the hospital. He was probably a hot mess. I slipped out the front doors of the school admin building and past dozens of patrol cars. Carefully managing my camouflage, I dipped under the crime scene tape barrier, snuck by a row of cops and headed for the sidewalk on the street side of the student parking lot. It wasn’t until I’d decided that I was far enough away that I dropped my camouflage.
Limping around a parked car, I noticed Baffle’s SUV parked at the curb on the other side of the street. Lifting a hand in a tentative wave, he nodded at me. I walked around the car and up to the passenger window as he rolled it down.
He looked rough and his eyes were puffy. I was surprised to see him. I thought he would be keeping a low profile since he had kind of been in the middle of the whole thing.
Motioning to me with his hand, he popped the locks.
“Are you offering a ride?” I responded. My senses were picking up all kinds of nervous energy from him.
He nodded. “Get in. I don’t want to hang out here any longer than I have to.”
I got in, shut the door and he took off. His eyes were red and his hair was plastered to his head from sweat that was running down his face and neck. He smelled pretty rank too.
“Were you waiting for me? Hey, I need to get home right away. My mom has to be worried sick about me,” I added. I couldn’t tell him the real reason I needed to get home was to check on Mr. Goodturn. He’d never gotten over his mistrust of him. Looking at him behind the wheel, I reached out with my knack sensing. The bad feelings I was picking up were all over the pace. I couldn’t tell what was going on inside him, but he was definitely a mess.
“What did you tell them?” He sped up and changed lanes recklessly, cutting off another car.
“Tell? Tell who? What?” I asked.
Glancing at me, lips peeled back from his teeth, he hissed, “The cops! Conroy, whoever! What did you tell them? I know it was you. You must have found all the devices in the trashcans.”
A lead weight started to descend into my stomach. “I didn’t tell them anything. Just that I overheard about the plan. I didn’t mention you. They have Munger and Rusty in custody.”
Snorting and weaving through traffic, he let out a long breath. “I know that.”
“Yeah, those idiots almost screwed you. If they hadn’t been stupid enough to show themselves, they would have been able to totally dump it on you,” I said.
“What?” he turned to look at me, his mouth open in amazement.
“They were framing you for the whole thing, Baff. They were setting you up. They were using you,” I blurted.
His head slumped, and then he threw his head back. I was afraid he was having some kind of seizure. He started to choke, and the truck swung drunkenly into the next lane. I was white-knuckling it as I started to reach for the steering wheel.
But he wasn’t choking; he was laughing. Cars in the other lane were honking at us as the truck swerved again while his body shook.
I was stunned. “Watch where you’re going! Why are you laughing? Are you all right?”
He shook his head. “I’m perfect. Perfect. You thought they were framing me?” He swerved across a lane and pulled off the street into a random parking lot.
The big SUV slid to a stop and he turned to stare at me. “Is that what you think?” The laughter had died off, but he had a crazy grin on his face.
“I don’t think it; I know it! The stuff I found in the trashcans weren’t smoke bombs and fireworks. They were bombs, Baffle. Explosives and some kind of blasting sand! You saw what happened when you set off the charge in the podium. They weren’t just trying to hurt Mr. Conroy, Baff. That blast might have killed him.”
“Geez, you’re slow. For all your magicky stuff, you’re really just a dumbass.” He sneered.
The car wasn’t moving anymore, but I felt a wave of vertigo that made it seem like we were zipping along a freeway.
“What are you saying? You knew what they were doing?”
“They weren’t doing anything. I did it. I set them up. The guns, the phones, the explosives? I bought it all online, put it together and then tied it back to their computers’ IP addresses. None of it can be traced to me. They thought I set up smoke bombs and that they would be the main event when they came in with the guns. They were clueless! I used them. That part of the plan worked perfectly. If you hadn’t gotten in the way, it would have all worked out! But you ruined it. I don’t know how you managed that stunt with those two losers, but it was total bullshit! They were the fallback if the podium didn’t get it done. They were supposed to let loose and, instead, you take them out and save Conroy. That sack of crap! He stood by when I got humiliated and did nothing! He would have been toast if you hadn’t messed up everything!”
My stomach churned. Reeling from what I was hearing, I still couldn’t believe it.
“You?” I whispered.
Punching the button for the doors, he snarled at me as all the locks popped up.
“My parents, Gabrielle, Maddy, you, basically everyone at school…I hate all of you!” His brows drew down low over his eyes.
“So, get out. Get out you pathetic piece of…” he started.
“YOU?” I cried.
“Is anything getting through your skull?” he snapped. “The only reason I was worried was because I thought you had put it all together and had something on me. I needed to know how to spin it. Now all I need to do is warn you to keep your mouth shut!” He reached across me and opened the passenger door.
“I’ll tell. I’ll tell the cops everything. Mr. Conroy, Miss Black. I’ll tell all of them,” I said, recoiling from his arm.
I unlocked my seatbelt and I eased halfway out the door.
“Yeah, I thought you might say something like that. So think about this…you say one word…to anyone…and other people will pay. Maddy, Mr. Goodturn. Your mom. You understand that!?” He pushed me and I stumbled out of the truck. I looked back at him, sitting there glaring at me, and I looked into him. Through the angry haze running through him, I read him deep like the first time since we’d met.
Except what I saw, what I felt, was different.
The sweet soul, the good kid who didn’t have a mean bone in his body was gone. He was twisted up inside. He’d wanted to hurt Mr. Conroy, make him pay for stuff Mr. Conroy really hadn’t had any control over. He’d been willing to help Munger and Witkowski hurt hundreds of people just to get even.
“People change, Benny. Not always in the ways we would hope.”
Teetering and off balance, I fell awkwardly to my knees as he took off and the door sideswiped me. Watching gravel spit from beneath the tires and smoke belch from the tailpipes as he whipped back out onto the street, I w
ondered when my friend had disappeared and been replaced by a psychopath.
CHAPTER NINE
Jeans torn, bleeding, and dealing with what I had just learned, I looked up at the sky and couldn’t believe that the sun was still out. How could so much go wrong in such a short span of time? I wished I knew where Justine was and whether she was okay. Miss Hoch was missing and could be on the loose doing only God knew what. Poor Breno was probably freaking out with no one to tell him that everything would be okay, not that it would be okay. And a friend I’d confided in and laughed with since junior high had turned into a monster.
Staggering down several blocks, I fought exhaustion, looking for a bus stop. When I finally dragged myself onto a bus and fell into a seat, the driver looked at me warily. He’d probably seen a lot worse and I didn’t bother to explain my appearance. I needed Mr. Goodturn and Maddy and I wanted my phone back. It felt like I was cut off from the world.
The bus hissed to a stop, the doors folded open and I was only too happy to limp down the stairs for the final stretch home. It was probably around four or five and there usually weren’t many people in the pawnshop during that time of day, so I would probably be able to talk to Mr. Goodturn without having to wait. Feelings of guilt and remorse swept through me. I wondered how much of what I had gone through could have been avoided if I had completely confided in him.
As soon as I was within a dozen yards of the shop, I knew something was wrong. All of the lights were off and the neon wasn’t lit either, but the “open” sign was flipped facing out. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end. The shop was usually open until at least six o’clock. Not having my phone, I couldn’t call him. I hesitated for a moment and then knacked all the locks on the door and pulled on the handle.
“Benny!”
I turned just in time to keep Maddy from knocking me off my feet. She held me around the waist and leaned back so she could see my face. The hood on her black hoodie was pushed back and the fading sunlight backlit her short dark hair. Her eyes were swollen and red and her cheeks were wet. She drew me close and hugged me hard. Under normal circumstances that would have been all I would have been able to think about. Yeah, normal, we were so far from that.
She pulled back. “It’s been all over the news. Your school. But they aren’t releasing any information. Where have you been? It’s been days! Oh, God Benny! I’ve been so worried!” She buried her head in my chest again.
“There’s been some really whacked stuff going on Maddy. And Mr. Goodturn’s store is closed. Like totally closed. I haven’t talked to him in days. Baffle’s gone insane. He tried to set off bombs at the school except no one knows it was him but me. Oso’s dead. And…and Miss Hoch…she’s loose Maddy, and she’s been living right under our noses!”
I knew I was babbling. We just stood there on the threshold of the pawnshop and held each other. She didn’t interrupt me; she just let me rattle on, spewing jumbled details of the last two days. When we let go of each other, she looked up at me, her mouth trembling.
“I need to talk with Mr. Goodturn. I need his help. We have to warn him, but there’s something wrong. He…” I said.
Maddy put her hand on my chest. “Benny, the shop’s been closed ever since you disappeared. I went to your apartment yesterday and the shop was still closed.” Her eyes widened and she unzipped her sweatshirt and pulled out a crumpled envelope that she had tucked into her pants. “This was in your apartment. It must have been slipped under the door.”
The envelope was a yellow parchment color and my name was written on it in Mr. Goodturn’s spidery scrawl. I tore it open and read it aloud so Maddy could hear it.
“Benjamin, I have been a fool. I found a clue to Sonja’s whereabouts in my apartment building. I hope to correct my mistake before others pay for my poor judgment. If you are reading this note, I am in serious trouble. Please call the number below and tell the man who answers that I need his assistance. Do it immediately. Please do not enter the shop without help or protection.”
It was signed just “G,” with a phone number next to it.
Pulling the door open, I started to enter the shop. Tugging on my shirt, Maddy held me back.
“Benny, no. He said not to enter without help. It… She might be in there. Let’s call someone,” she pleaded.
“Call who? It’s been days, Maddy. What if he’s hurt? It might already be too late.” Selfishly, I ran in without looking back. Her sneakers squeaked on the floor behind me and I heard the little bell ring sadly when the door closed.
The elevator ride was painfully slow. Maddy had her arm around my waist while I swayed back and forth impatiently. When the door opened, I ran to his front door and didn’t bother knocking. I just manipulated the locks and walked in. My compromise with Maddy was not screaming for him at the top of my voice. Moving quietly through the rooms, I grew more and more upset. The kitchen was a mess. Dirty dishes in the sink and reeking food left out on the counter all pointed to thoughts I pushed out of my mind.
We found him in the library.
He was sitting in his scale-sized chair, wearing his fancy clothes, the vest, the dress slacks and his trademark suspenders. Head back and eyes closed, he did not look like he was sleeping. Something glinted on the floor and I saw his glasses. They were shattered and the frames were bent. He hadn’t dropped them; someone had crushed them on purpose.
I ran to him and fell to my knees, my head on the arm of the chair. No tears. I was empty. Maddy wrapped her arms around me and laid her head on my shoulder. While I’d been trying to save everyone else, I’d failed him when he needed me.
“Benny, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. What should we do?” she whispered.
“Call the number on the note,” I said numbly.
AFTERWORD
Two weeks later, I stepped over the threshold of my apartment and was greeted by a warm musty odor. I hadn’t been in it for days, but I needed some stuff from my room. I’d been sleeping at Mr. Goodturn’s. It felt weird to be in the apartment after so much had changed in my life, sort of like I didn’t really belong there anymore.
Saving thousands of students from harm made my personal drama no less stressful. Most of the craziness died down after a few days, especially after a fire burned down a pier and a bunch of shops on the waterfront. There was nothing like a fresh disaster to make the last one suddenly unimportant. The holiday season and all of its activity helped blur my moment in the spotlight too. School had been out for winter break but hadn’t reopened because there was still an investigation going on to make sure that Munger and Witkowski hadn’t left any crazy disciples behind.
I had managed to avoid the police for a few days. It wasn’t as if they had me on the most wanted list. After I told my story twenty or thirty times, changing virtually everything so that I wouldn’t sound like I had lost my mind, they left me alone. The media never got to me at all. Thank God and probably Mr. Conroy and laws that protect the identity of minors. The biggest problem was all the postings other kids dumped online about me. Thankfully, there aren’t any pictures, but my name is everywhere in social media.
Baffle managed to avoid any serious scrutiny in the investigation. With Munger and Witkowski in custody, he’d been able to fly under the radar. They might have tried to throw him under the bus, but they probably weren’t viewed as being the most reliable witnesses, seeing as how they had entered a gym full of people and started firing away. I played along. I hadn’t forgotten his warning, and he was making sure I didn’t. My phone had been returned and one of the more recent texts had been from him:
“Hope you’re doing better and that everyone you care about is okay.”
Yeah, he was too smart to text a threat but I know how to read between the lines. I don’t have much time to figure out what I’m going to do about that.
When Maddy called the number on Mr. Goodturn’s note, a man named Mr. Kenwoode picked up right away. He gave us some very specific instructions. I thought I had heard weird
and strange stuff before, but what he told us to do was a new level of bizarre. He’s staying in Mr. Goodturn’s place too. I think Mr. Kenwoode must have been in the military; he’s kind of bossy.
I’m trying to run the pawnshop to keep up appearances since Mr. Kenwoode wants nothing to do with it. Being out of school for a few weeks has its advantages. While I’ve been puttering around in there, I noticed that the clock with the three monkeys has stopped working.
We rescued Breno from the hospital. That took some finagling by Mr. Kenwoode since none of us was next of kin and Breno was not deemed capable of checking himself out. He hasn’t been around for a few days so I’ll need to check up on him; without Mr. Goodturn, he’s kind of lost.
Justine is still missing. I feel responsible for her and her parents have made such a fuss in the media about me being the last person to see her I’d feel guilty no matter what. Maddy’s gone too. All my drama was too much for her parents and they couldn’t wait to get her out of town.
Oso never turned up either, not that I would be the first to know if he had or even where that would be.
When I could have just walked next door, talked to Mr. G and asked for his help, I did what kids sometimes do. I kept it to myself, tried to handle it on my own and things went to hell. Now, I wanted his advice on so many things and he couldn’t talk to me. I wish he really were my grandfather. Maybe things would have turned out differently.
For no reason at all, my eyes started watering and I decided I needed to get out of the apartment. I was feeling strange, off.
My hand had barely brushed the doorknob when someone knocked on the door. I jumped back, heart pounding, the hair on the back of my neck standing straight up. I looked through the peephole. Old habits die hard.
Nothing could have prepared me for who I saw standing in the hall.
A low whisper called from the other side of the door.
“Benny? Open the door. It’s me.”