by Gord Rollo
Today though, she’d stopped in the hall for a minute to talk with her friend Emily Parker, who was telling her about how her parents had taken her to Disney World over the summer holidays and how fabulous it had been. Amanda had never been to Disney World, never really been anywhere because her mother didn’t have much money for trips like that. Someday they’d go; her dad too, all of them together as a family, but for now Amanda was captivated just listening to Emily tell her what Cinderella’s Castle had been like. Losing all track of time, she was still standing there gabbing when she noticed through one of the classroom windows that the buses were starting to pull away.
“Oh no!” Amanda shouted, waving to her friend as she ran for the door. “I’ll miss my bus. See ya.”
Outside, Amanda sprinted for the corner of the school but she wasn’t the fastest runner and was weighed down by her full backpack. By the time she made it to the front of the school, the last bus—her bus—was slipping out onto Howard Avenue and rumbling off down the road. Amanda yelled and waved her hands in the air but it was no use; bus number seventeen had left without her.
“Ah…damn!” she said. It was a bad word; a big person’s word, and she knew she wasn’t supposed to say it but she was frustrated and didn’t know what to do now. She’d never missed her bus before; not once in the two years she’d been taking it, since starting grade one when her mother had to begin a new job and could no longer drive her. “Maybe I’d better go back in and tell Mrs. Czepek? She’ll know what to do.”
Thinking about her teacher made her think of the staff parking lot next to the bus loop. School was over for the day, so there was every chance she might be already at her car getting ready to leave. Amanda had no idea what kind of car her teacher drove but there was only one way to find out. The last thing she wanted to do was stand around and let Mrs. Czepek drive away too. She could end up here at the school all alone for the night maybe, and the thought of that got her legs moving, a shiver of fear tickling the back of her small neck.
Before she’d walked five steps, a car pulled up beside her on the bus loop. No, wait; it was a truck. A red pickup with a loud engine that sounded like it had seen better days. The driver shut off the motor and reached across the seat to swing open the passenger door.
“Hi, Amanda,” the driver said, smiling at her in a friendly way. “You probably don’t remember me, but I’m an old pal of your dad’s. I was just on my way over to see him actually, when I spotted you standing here all alone. Everything okay?”
Amanda wasn’t sure if she should speak to this man or not. Her parents and teachers had taught her to run away from strangers, and this guy certainly looked strange dressed all in black. Still, he’d known her name and said he was friends with her father. That had to make him all right, didn’t it?
“I kind of missed my bus.”
The Stranger put on his oh shucks grin, and layered on the charm. “Kind of? Ha! I did that a million times when I was a kid. It’s no big deal. Hop in and I’ll give you a lift home.”
Amanda still wasn’t sure what to do but what other choice did she have? Her ride home was long gone. She took one last look around to see if she could spot Mrs. Czepek but she was nowhere in sight.
“You said you knew my dad?” she asked, seeking reassurance but already moving toward the open door.
“Of course, sweetie. He and I were great friends once upon a time. Real chums! Climb on in here. I’ll take good care of you…promise.”
Satisfied, and filled with the boundless trust in adults of an innocent seven-year-old, Amanda Kemp climbed into the cab beside the dark-clothed man, and closed the door.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
BLOATED, DISEASE-RIDDEN ANTS
Wilson made it to the bus stop in record time. As soon as he hung up the phone with Susan, he’d done the mad dash into the bathroom, brushed his teeth while taking a leak, grabbed a fresh T-shirt, and was out the door hitting the streets running in minutes. He’d made it with lots of time to spare. Well, a minute or two to spare, anyway. Just enough time to try and catch his breath.
Woefully out of shape as he was, the run had done Wilson some good. After yesterday’s craziness in the park and then last night’s horrible dream, he needed to clear his head and get his mind off the Heatseeker and all the bad memories associated with that name. Tonight he’d force himself to sit down and make a plan of action about what he intended to do about this madman in town, but for today it had to wait. Susan needed his help and damned if he was going to let her and Amanda down. He’d done enough of that already to last a lifetime.
It would have been much easier for Wilson and Susan if Amanda’s bus picked her up and dropped her off right out front of her house, but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. She and all the other schoolkids on Derby Hill Road had to walk to the bottom of the street where it crossed Lincoln Avenue. It was only two city blocks and hardly more than a stone’s throw away, but Amanda was still far too small to make the journey herself twice a day. She had a few older friends from the neighborhood who walked with her most of the time, but Susan wasn’t ready to trust her on her own yet. Maybe she was being overly protective, but for now that was the way it was.
While Wilson waited, he tried to ignore some of the looks he was getting from the other parents standing at the bus stop, but it wasn’t easy to do. Some would glare at him with disgusted scowls, while others just laughed, jeering at him with big dumb grins plastered on their faces. People loved to kick someone when they were down and although Wilson was used to it by now, it still made his blood boil sometimes. Who the hell were they to judge him? He was only here to pick up his little girl. What the hell was it to them? Like they’d never done anything wrong or stupid in their lives, right? Sure enough, one of the men had to open his trap.
“Wilson, my man,” a fat man in a checkered golf shirt said. Wilson thought his name might have been Ralph, but couldn’t remember. Didn’t matter. “Heard you got yourself a magic act together?”
“Ah…yeah. I’m working on one. Just trying to make a living, ya know?”
“Sure, Wilson. I hear you. I bet you’ll be great!” Fat Ralph, or whoever the hell he was, barely finished his sentence before bursting into laughter. Within seconds, some of the other parents were snickering too.
Ignoring them all, Wilson moved back away from the curb to wait under the shade of a huge maple tree and hummed an off-key rendition of ELO’s “Don’t Bring Me Down,” a band and song Susan and he had loved back in the day.
They can only bother you if you let them, he thought. Good advice, but it still pissed him off. He was sick of being the town bum. Sick and fucking tired of people laughing at him. Then do something about it, man. Clean up your act and no one will have anything to bug you about.
Thankfully the big yellow bus came rolling into view along Lincoln, saving Wilson any further humiliation. The group of parents could pick up their rotten little brats and go home, leaving Wilson alone with his daughter. Susan and Amanda were the only things that mattered to him anyway. The rest of this town could go jump in the Allegheny River for all he cared.
The school bus pulled to a stop and the group of screaming kids started bursting out onto the side of the road like they were on fire, finally released from school for another day and chaotically thrilled about it. One by one the children’s parents met or waved them over and everyone started scurrying home up Derby Hill. When the horde of kids ended and Amanda wasn’t one of them, Wilson figured she was still sitting on the bus. She wasn’t good with directions and maybe wasn’t 100% sure which stop was hers.
“Amanda?” Wilson called out, walking along the bus, peeking through the line of windows to see if he could spot her but he couldn’t. The bus driver started to close the door, getting ready to pull away, so Wilson screamed at him to wait a minute. Luckily the driver heard him and opened the door back up.
“What’s the matter?” the driver asked. Turned out it was a woman, not a man like Wilson had presum
ed. She was a thin older lady with thick glasses hanging off her nose. Wilson had never met her before but she seemed friendly enough. She reminded Wilson of one of his old Sunday schoolteachers. “Missing someone?”
“Yes. My daughter. Amanda Kemp. Pretty little dark-haired girl; usually in ponytails. She’s in grade two. I’m supposed to pick her up.”
“Hmmm…think I know who you mean. She never got on here today. Maybe her mom picked her up?”
“No. Susan just called and asked me to come get her. Amanda’s supposed to be on here.”
“Oh Jesus. No idea where she is. She must still be back at school. You best go back and check. I’ll put in a call for you but get your butt over there and get her.”
“No, don’t bother calling. I’m sure it’s just a screwup. She’s probably standing at the school waiting for me. I’ll go get her. Thanks.”
“Okay then. Sorry about that. We keep telling the kids they gotta be out at the bus on time. I can’t wait all day, mister. Have a schedule to keep, you know?”
The driver swung the door closed and pulled the bus off the shoulder of the road and continued down Lincoln Avenue, leaving Wilson alone with a knot of fear starting to grow inside his belly. He wasn’t quite ready to push the panic button yet, but he was damn close. Had Amanda simply missed the bus? Or had something happened to her? A series of images from last night’s dream flashed across his mind, of him stopping on every tenth or fifteenth stair to pick up another of his daughter’s severed fingers, and Wilson stubbornly refusing to leave any of them behind.
Mother of God!
Wilson started to run.
Please let her be okay…Please let her be okay…
Wilson repeated this prayer over and over as he ran back along Lincoln Avenue and raced toward the school. He ran as fast as his weakening body would allow him to move; and then he ran faster. He’d never forgive himself if anything bad happened to Amanda. If there was a madman loose in Billington with revenge in his heart, then let him come take it out on Wilson. In his heart, he’d always expected this to happen eventually, and truth be told, thought he might even deserve it. Not sweet little Amanda though. She’d never harmed a soul.
Five minutes into his run, Wilson knew he was taking too damn long and finally came to his senses. He was considering trying to hitchhike but lucked out when a white and blue city taxi rolled by with no passenger in the backseat and loud reggae music blaring out the open windows. It was nearly a miracle finding a cab in this town. They didn’t just cruise the streets like they might in a big city. This guy must have been out on a call and was on his way back to the depot or home. Wilson frantically flagged down the driver, and climbed in the cab’s front seat.
Wilson immediately reached out and shut off the irritatingly noisy music and said, “Get me to Howard Avenue Public School, right now. Fast as you can!”
The driver, a young black man with a shaved head and a bushy goatee, seemed about to turn his reggae music back on, or at least tell his passenger to get in the backseat, but must have seen the desperation in Wilson’s face because he just shrugged, said, “No worries, dude,” and floored it. The young man weaved in and out of traffic like a drunken NASCAR driver, but that was perfectly fine with Wilson. The faster the better as far as he was concerned.
They made it to Amanda’s school in less than ten minutes, but the ball of anxiety in Wilson’s belly was growing larger by the second. His daughter wasn’t there. They raced past the main building, swung around in the bus loop, and even drove onto the grass to get a quick peek at the school playground but Amanda wasn’t anywhere.
“Wait here. Please, don’t move,” Wilson said, and jumped out of the cab without paying, and headed for the front door. He checked Mrs. Czepek’s room first, but the lights were out and it was locked up tight. Mr. Dunham, the school principal, was in his office but he hadn’t seen Amanda since lunch that day. He offered to help Wilson search the school and suggested calling the police if they couldn’t find her, but again Wilson refused. He’d find her himself. The last people he wanted involved here were the cops. A lot of those guys hated him. He took one more tour of the halls and gymnasium but by this time was convinced he wasn’t going to find her here at school. In the end, he returned to the taxi and climbed back inside.
“Take me to 549 Derby Hill Road, okay?”
“Sure. Have you lost someone?” the cabbie asked.
All Wilson could do was nod as the driver gunned the taxi back onto the road. He didn’t trust himself to speak right now because he was on the verge of throwing up. It was definitely time to panic now; and he was. The pressure inside Wilson was building, the anxiety churning in his stomach, growing larger still and taking on a life of its own. It felt like he had a bellyful of bloated, disease-ridden ants crawling around inside him, biting him, and eating their way to the outside world through the walls of his stomach.
He’s got her. I know he does. The Heatseeker has Amanda and I’ll never see her again!
It was a terrible thought, but Wilson couldn’t help but think it. Where else could his daughter be? He and Susan were Amanda’s entire world. There was no one else who might have picked her up or invited her home with them—certainly not without consulting with Susan first.
The taxi skidded to a stop out front of Wilson’s old house just as Susan was pulling into the driveway, arriving home from her trip to the mall. Wilson numbly thanked the driver for his efforts, paid him, and stepped out of the cab just as Susan was wrestling with the trunk of her Honda, several big white shopping bags in her hands getting in her way. She managed to slam the trunk shut and turned to face Wilson with a huge smile on her pretty face. In an instant, she knew something was wrong though, and dropped her grin.
“What’s the matter, Wilson?” she asked, meeting him halfway across the front yard. “Why did you need a taxi? And where’s Amanda? Don’t tell me you forgot about her! Damn it, Wilson, I told you—”
“I didn’t forget, Susan. She wasn’t on the bus. Listen, honey…I think something bad—”
“What do you mean she wasn’t on the bus? Oh my God! Where the hell is she?”
Wilson wasn’t sure what to say. He couldn’t very well tell her the truth, could he? Then again, how could he keep it from her? Their only child might be in mortal danger right now and all his secrets wouldn’t do him much good if something terrible happened to Amanda. Best to spill the beans now and hope Susan, who was ten times smarter than Wilson on his best day, could think of something they could do to find her. Just as he was about to open his mouth, a cheery voice spoke off to his left.
“I’m right here, Mom. What took you guys so long?”
Both Wilson and Susan snapped their heads toward the house and there was Amanda on the porch leaning halfway out the front door. She was smiling and looked absolutely fine, other than pretending to be a little miffed at the moment.
“I’ve been here alone for ten or fifteen minutes now and I’m starving already. Can someone make me a snack?” That said, Amanda pulled her head back inside and the door clanked shut behind her, leaving her parents staring at the front door with their mouths hanging open.
“How did she get home?” Susan asked.
“I don’t know,” Wilson answered, confused as well, but more relieved than Susan would ever know. And to think he had almost told her everything about his past. “She wasn’t on her bus. I took the cab to check her school but she wasn’t there either. Nobody had seen her.”
“Then how did she get here?”
“Don’t have a clue, Susan. Let’s bloody well find out though. Come on.”
Wilson took a few of Susan’s shopping bags to lighten her load, and together they raced into the house to confront their daughter. They found her sacked out on the living room floor in front of the television, a purple throw pillow under her head. She was watching an old Bugs Bunny cartoon and didn’t look like she had a care in the world.
“Honey?” Susan began. “Daddy says you miss
ed your bus today. That true?”
Without looking away from the show, Amanda said, “Yep. Sorry. Emily Parker was telling me about Cinderella’s Castle and the bus kind of pulled away without me.”
Susan and Wilson exchanged puzzled glances.
“Who brought you home then, sweetie? Your teacher?” Wilson asked. “I was worried sick about you.”
“Why? I was fine. And no, it wasn’t Mrs. Czepek.”
Needing his daughter’s full attention, Wilson walked over and shut off the television. “Who brought you home, Amanda? Mommy and I need to know.”
“Your friend did, actually. I liked him. He was very nice. Funny too.”
“Which friend?” Wilson and Susan both spoke at the same time, both knowing Wilson didn’t really have any friends here in town.
“I don’t know. He never said his name. He drives a big red pickup truck. He said you and him were friends a long time ago.”
“What did he look like?” Wilson asked, the ants in his stomach biting and ripping his insides apart again.
“Tall guy. Kinda skinny with dark hair.”
For Wilson it was as if the temperature in the room had cooled twenty degrees instantly. Susan asked him if he knew who Amanda was talking about, and he managed to convince her that he didn’t, but it was a lie. He knew exactly who had picked up his daughter and driven her home.
An old friend, he thought, a shiver running down his back as a thousand bad memories fought for pecking order inside his mind. Susan would have noticed the look on his face eventually, and called his bluff, but Amanda had more to say.