by Clare Kauter
OK, I decided. Step one was to establish whether this was the flasher. Then I’d come up with something from there.
I casually glanced down at his feet, checking for joggers. White with orange piping, just like the ones in the photo of the streaker. My heart sped up. This could be the guy.
“Caleb?” I asked.
The guy nodded. “Who are you?”
“I go to your uni,” I lied. So far so good. “I, um, heard a rumour about you.”
He fidgeted uncomfortably, looking a little nervous. “What rumour?”
Bingo. He thought I was talking about the flashing thing! I was now 90% certain that I’d found my guy. All I needed was to get a look at his tattoo. And then, you know, somehow get a confession out of him.
“That you’re really into My Little Pony,” I said and he visibly relaxed. “One of my friends is in a class with you and she told me about your tattoo and I just thought that I had to see that! So I kind of Facebook stalked you and then regular stalked you and here I am.”
He smiled, looking surprisingly cool with the fact that I’d just told him I stalked him. Twice. “You like ponies?”
“Love them!” I said with more enthusiasm than any adult should have about fictional equines.
“Who’s your favourite?” he asked.
“Fluttershy,” I said without a moment’s hesitation. (What, did you think I was joking when I said I’d dated bronies? I knew far more about My Little Pony than I ever wanted to.)
He smiled and pivoted on his leg, lifting his pants to show me the tattoo. “You like?”
My eyes locked on to the tattoo on his calf muscle.
“Twilight Sparkle,” I said. (That was the horse’s name.) Of course I didn’t like it, and I hoped he’d one day be as embarrassed by it as I was in this moment just looking at it. “An excellent choice.”
This was the flasher. There was no doubt in my mind. But what was I meant to do now? I needed to get him to admit it somehow and get a recording of his confession to make sure there wasn’t any way he could weasel out of it. I’d do whatever it took to clear Bob’s name.
An idea popped into my brain and for want of any better plan, I decided to roll with it.
“Want to come for a drive?” I asked. I’ve always felt like people are more chatty in cars, although I don’t really know why. Maybe because there’s not a lot else to do other than talk or sit in awkward silence. Plus, if I got him in my car I’d have him trapped and if I managed to get a confession I could just drive him straight to the police station.
“Uh...” He looked uncertain. It was an understandable reaction, I guess, given that he’d only just met me, but I didn’t have time for this. I tried to think of a convincing reason for him to come with me. A local pony convention? No, he’d already have heard if there was one on. He’d know immediately that I was lying.
Then I had an idea.
“If you like ponies, you’ll love my car,” I said.
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
I grinned. “It’s a Mustang,” I said, then I watched his jaw hit the floor.
He nodded eagerly and I led him out to the car, trying to come up with some sort of plan. Cruise around, chat, try to get him to tell me he was a flasher, record the conversation on my phone and take him to the cops. It wasn’t a great plan – especially since it was kind of reliant on my ability to charm information out of someone, which wasn’t one of my top strengths (beating information out of them seemed more my style) – but I couldn’t think of anything better. Once again I thought that I probably should have planned this out before deciding to drive to his house and confront him. Oops.
Caleb galloped (ha) down the path to the car and waited eagerly for me to unlock the doors. He clambered inside and drank in the sight, eyes wide. He stroked the doors and seats with a look of rapture on his face. I wasn’t too happy about having a weirdo like Caleb in my beautiful car, but it was for a good cause. I was saving Christmas.
“Where are we going?” Caleb asked.
Good question.
“It’s a surprise,” I replied.
I started up the car and decided to do laps for a little while, hoping that Caleb would just decide to confess. I realised I probably needed to prompt him somehow, but I didn’t want to be too obvious and spook him. I had to think of a subtle way to bring it up without him realising that I was trying to get him to confess.
Although the plan had been to do laps around Gerongate, as I neared the outskirts of town a half-baked idea began to form in my mind. The initial joy of being in the car had worn off and Caleb already seemed uncomfortable with how long we’d been driving without apparently going anywhere. I was worried that he was starting to suspect that something was up.
I reached an intersection and turned right instead of left, heading out of town. I didn’t have a specific destination in mind, as such – I was hoping to come across a farm where there were some real horses galloping in the paddocks. My hope was that the majesty of them would be enough to compel Caleb to confess his crimes. It was a little wishy washy, sure, but it was better than driving aimlessly around Gerongate. Honestly I was kind of just hoping the awkward silence would eventually get to Caleb and he’d blurt out the flasher thing purely for something to talk about.
The further we got out of town, however, the less likely it seemed that Caleb was going to bring it up. It seemed as though he was immune to awkward silences. OK. Plan B it was then – show him some horses. The only trouble was that the further from Gerongate we drove, the more I began to wonder if the horses were intentionally hiding from us. I wouldn’t put it past them – conniving creatures, they were. I’d only really had one proper encounter with a horse in my life and it had not gone well. I had thought the horse was a dick even before he decided to buck me off into a pool of mud, breaking my wrist and cracking two ribs. Since then, I hadn’t had the highest opinion of horses unless they were badges on cars.
“Um, do you know where we are?” Caleb asked, looking a little uncomfortable.
“Of course,” I said. “We’re in the country. Out of town. On a road.”
“Right.” He still looked a little nervous.
I could understand his concern. We’d been driving for a while now and he still had no idea where we were going. To be fair, though, neither did I. There was nary a horse in sight out here. Had I somehow taken the one road out of town where no Pony Club kids lived? Maybe I should just tell Caleb I’d taken the wrong road, turn around and head back to town. I knew that Caleb was guilty, at least. Now I just needed to get him to confess. Maybe I’d drop Caleb off and then ask Tim to come with me to visit him. Tim had the kind of imposing presence that made people more inclined to confess when he was around.
I looked for somewhere to turn the car around. The road was narrow and both sides dropped off sharply, so a U-turn wasn’t really an option. There was a side road ahead that I decided to drive down until I found somewhere to turn around. I was annoyed at myself for not coming up with a better way to get Caleb to confess, but this drive seemed pointless. Heading back to town was probably a good idea.
With a sigh, I turned the car down a road to the right that said it led to a ‘scenic area’. That seemed unnecessarily vague to me, but I didn’t really care too much at that point. I was too busy mentally chastising myself for not coming up with a plan before visiting Caleb. By now I should really have known better.
At the end of the road, we found a small picnic area by the side of a creek. I had to admit, it was pretty scenic. I frowned as I pulled in, thinking. Maybe I should have one last-ditch attempt at getting Caleb to talk. What did I have to lose? If this idiot thought I liked him maybe that would make him comfortable enough to tell me about the flashing thing. Taking him to a romantic place like this might help with that, even if there were no horses around. I parked the car and Caleb and I climbed out.
“This is really nice,” said Caleb, looking around and wandering towards the waterfront.
“I know. I thought you might like it,” I lied. “It’s got a kind of magical feel about it, doesn’t it?”
It was true. The ground was dappled with sunlight peeking in through the canopy above us, but there was enough cover over head to keep the place cool. Plus there was a breeze coming over the water, helping to cool us even more. The scent of eucalyptus was in the air and the only sounds were running water and leaves rustling in the wind, occasionally joined by a distant birdsong.
“Yeah, it does,” he said. He picked up some rocks and began to skip them across the surface of the river while I stood a little way back. I stopped staring at my surroundings and instead began wracking my brains for what to do next. How on earth was I going to get this guy I’d just met to divulge the details of his perverted sprints across the town? I knew the theory of how to get someone to speak about something like that: introduce a subject that’s slightly related – although not so similar that it’s obvious what you’re doing – that will prompt the person you’re stealth-questioning to tell you their secret.
Trouble was, there were only so many things that were related to flashing, and I didn’t know how to bring them up casually without sounding like a total weirdo. Yes, the bubbling brook is nice, isn’t it? By the way, tell me your opinions on public nudity.
Wait – the creek. Public nudity. An idea was beginning to form in my head, but I didn’t really like the sound of it.
Then again, I didn’t exactly have much choice.
I sighed. I didn’t need to do this. I could just drive Caleb back to Gerongate and ask Tim to help me get a confession. Of course, that did seem like kind of a cop out, and Tim would probably tease me about not being able to solve cases on my own. It was just one tiny flasher. Surely I could handle that myself.
I rubbed my temples. I didn’t want to ask Tim for help. That was dumb, maybe, but that was who I was. Plus, the sooner I got this confession, the sooner Bob would be free. If I had to wait for Tim, I wasn’t sure when we’d get our evidence. Bob could still be in his cell over Christmas.
Oh god, I was going to do this, wasn’t I? I swallowed, reminding myself that what I was about to do was for the greater good. I couldn’t exactly let an innocent elderly man languish in a cell because I felt a bit icky, could I? I took a deep breath and spoke.
“I’ve always wanted to go skinny dipping,” I announced.
Caleb slowly spun around until he was facing me.
“Uh, really?” he said, staring at me open-mouthed.
Shoot me now.
I nodded enthusiastically, managing (just barely) to keep my distaste off my face. “Totally. I’m just way too scared to do it. What if I got caught, you know?” I said. “Have you ever done it?”
He shook his head. “No.”
I let my shoulders drop and looked as disappointed as I could. “Oh,” I said. “You just seem cool and I thought that maybe...”
“But I’ve done something kind of like it,” he added quickly.
“Really?” I asked, perking up. My god, was it really going to be this easy? I had my phone in hand, ready to record. “What?”
He gave me a sly grin. “Come skinny dipping with me and I’ll tell you.”
I tensed all my muscles in an attempt to keep my shudder at bay. Caleb frowned.
“Are you OK?” he asked, concerned.
“Sure,” I said. “Just nervous.”
He smiled. “I didn’t think you’d agree.”
Ignoring my internal screams of protest, I said, “No, I want to do it. But only if you do it with me.”
He gave me a slow grin. “You’re on,” he said, and he immediately began to undress. Honestly, I was disturbed at how little convincing he needed to get naked with a stranger in the middle of the bush. Didn’t he know about mosquitos? Ticks? Leeches? The very thought of taking my clothes off out here made my skin itch.
I pretended to be fiddling with the zipper down the side of my dress. “Argh, it’s stuck,” I said, acting like I was trying to pull it down.
Caleb looked over at me. “Do you need a hand?”
“No!” I cried, a little too loudly. “I, uh, I’ve nearly got it.”
“OK,” he said, and then he removed his boxer shorts. I suppressed a scream of horror and averted my gaze, but not too soon to confirm that Caleb’s was indeed the pancake bum I’d seen poking out from underneath the Santa coat in the photo of the flasher.
“Last one to the water has to pay for lunch!” he called and sprinted for the water. I thought it was a little presumptuous of him to assume that we were going to go for lunch after this, but I didn’t say that aloud. I had more pressing matters to attend to – namely Phase Two of my terrible plan.
I stopped pretending to be undoing my dress and instead bent down and gathered up all of Caleb’s clothes in my arms as quickly as I could. He’d reached the water by now and turned around to watch the show, expecting to see me removing my dress. What he saw me doing instead didn’t seem to thrill him.
“What are you doing?” he yelled at me, red faced.
I glanced down at him standing waist deep in the creek and then launched to my feet and ran back to my car. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw him emerge from the water and charge towards me. I turned my head to face front and sprinted as fast as I could to the Mustang. I just managed to leap inside and lock the doors behind me before Caleb caught up.
“What are you doing, you crazy bitch?” he screamed. (By this point in my life, I was considering getting ‘You Crazy Bitch’ added to my birth certificate.)
I simply grinned and gave him a finger wave through the window.
“Sorry, buddy,” I said, loud enough for him to be able to hear me through the glass. I took my phone out of my pocket. “I’m calling the police.”
“What?” Caleb cried, his face paling. “Why?”
“Indecent exposure is against the law,” I said. “And I’m pretty sure you’re a repeat offender.”
“No! Don’t call the cops, please,” he begged. “Please.”
I sat my phone down on the passenger seat and cracked the window open a little. “Why shouldn’t I?”
“Because – because –”
“Are you the Santa Claus flasher?” I asked.
He crossed his arms. “As if I’d tell you.”
I shrugged. “OK, if you don’t want to tell me I don’t mind.” I pushed the button and the Mustang’s motor started. I gave it a little rev just to drive the point home.
The blood drained out of his face and I kind of wanted to laugh at how pathetic he looked. He was naked, covered in little bits of dirt and leaves from the river and he seemed genuinely scared.
“What are you doing?” Caleb cried. “You can’t leave me like this!”
“Oh, but I can,” I said. “And you just told me that you don’t want to talk to me anyway, so why would I bother sticking around?”
“Fine, fine,” he said. “I’ll tell you!”
“Good boy,” I said and I turned the car off.
He took a deep breath. “Yes, OK, I’m the Santa Claus flasher!”
“Where did you get the costume?” I asked.
“It’s my uncle’s,” he said. “He works at Westgarden as a Santa. I borrowed it a couple of times while he was taking his afternoon nap.”
“So he didn’t know what you were doing?”
Caleb shook his head. “No.”
Damn it. I was kind of hoping Randy would get arrested as an accessory to flashing or something. He needed to be locked up.
“Why did you do it?” I asked.
He shrugged. “A couple of the guys dared me.”
“The guys sound like douchebags,” I said. “Much like yourself. Did you know that someone else got arrested for being the flasher?”
Caleb nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, one of the Santas that works with my uncle.”
I crossed my arms. “And when you heard that, you didn’t think that maybe you should turn yourself in?”
/>
He shrugged. “Not really.”
This kid was unbelievable.
“Why not?”
“He’s an old guy,” he said, looking unconcerned. “He’s lived his life. I still have years ahead of me. I can’t afford to have that kind of thing on my record.”
Gritting my teeth, I said, “So you thought it was better to let an old man go to prison at Christmas than to confess what you’d done?”
“Hey, it sucks, but what was I meant to do?”
“Uh, tell the truth?” I suggested. “He’s the nicest old man in the world! He doesn’t deserve that crap. He volunteers to help disadvantaged kids in his spare time. You basically sent the real Santa to prison! He wouldn’t be able to work with kids with that on his record. You could have ruined his life!”
“I don’t feel good about it,” Caleb said. “But it was just a bit of a joke. Why should I get arrested for it?”
“You’re disgusting,” I said. I reached over and stopped my phone recording.
“Hey, what are you – were you recording that?” Caleb asked, eyes wide.
“Of course I was, you idiot.”
He put his hands on his hips. “I hate you,” he said.
“The feeling’s mutual.”
“Now that you’ve got what you wanted, can I have my clothes back?”
I pretended to think for a moment. “No, I don’t think so.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, looking properly panicked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know why you’re getting so stressed out,” I said. “It’s just a bit of a joke.”
I started the car again and rolled up the window.
“What are you doing?” he squealed. “You can’t leave me here!”
“I can’t hear you,” I yelled, pointing at the now closed window. “I’ll see you back in town. Maybe. I suggest you start walking pretty soon, though. Don’t want to be trapped out here at nightfall.”