Seeking Carol Lee

by Nace Phlaux

  “The boss lady... Let’s just say there’ll be a particularly good bonus in the next paycheck to the person who can adequately answer one or two questions, beginning with, What are you doing for Valentine’s tonight?” The older of the lot said they’d be having dinner with their spouses at home. No big deal. Some said they used or will be using the weekend to celebrate. It was the youngest of the kids who piqued my interest, though, since they were still trying to impress their mates.

  After getting a list of restaurants together, I whittled the choices down to either the Kelch House or the King George Inn, finally deciding on Kelch since I’d never been to that one before. I had the last employee on the list call back the guy with the Kelch reservation and convinced him his paycheck would reflect a generous bonus in exchange for his reservation. Someday soon, that man is going to hunt me down, probably with a pay stub in one hand and the receipt to Sizzler or whatever shitty chain he took his now ex-girlfriend to, and demand his money. But your brother’s not a complete idiot. I made sure to take the reservations from a guy half my size.

  * * *

  Well, maybe I spoke too soon, because once I left the steel, I realized I’d need to go home to get nicer clothing than what I took to the hotel. And then it dawned on me that anyone who saw me at the warehouse could follow me back to my room, so I had completely blown any cover I could pretend I had for that whole whopping day. I said “Screw it” and picked up Max from the Knights Inn, checking out and paying with the little ATM cash I’d accepted from you Tuesday night.

  When I got to your place, well, I don’t want to get too graphic with someone you have to work with. Maybe your eyes are set on your wife ‘til death do you part. And most of the day, you’re seeing her in a mechanic’s over-sized overall, which everyone knows is the sexiest of the onesies out there. But I’m telling you, Bri, when Hayleigh opened the door and presented Syd like I was there to take her to the prom, I couldn’t keep from grinning. Or from having some fleeting dirty thoughts. I mean, those stockings? Christ, brother.

  You’d be surprised to know I actually cleaned out my truck before I came over. But naturally, my eye caught all the crap I’d missed once I opened the passenger door for Syd. We drove to the restaurant in silence, mostly because I stammered like we were in high school again every time I tried to open my mouth. Her nerves didn’t seem to be doing much better, what with her hands constantly fidgeting with the hem of her red dress and her body shifting so her leather jacket didn’t make weird noises against the seat.

  Syd gave me an incredulous look when we got to the restaurant and I said, “Reservation for D’Souza” to the maître d’. As we walked to the table, the sense of being watched began to choke me, and I tried to tell myself no one from the agency could be there on such short notice. The girl couldn’t have just anyone traipse on in to a classy joint like that on a holiday. But then it struck me that maybe it wasn’t them. Maybe I wasn’t dressed nice enough. Or what if they saw an old cradle-robber and his prey? What if the rich assholes were seeing a white man on a date with a Korean girl?

  Once we sat down and I looked up, Syd’s smile disarmed my paranoia. She kept staring at me in this goofy way for so long, I asked her what was up. “I hear all these stories for a week about a jawn who, when I first met him, came busting up the Pathmark ghetto. And every story, I’m thinking, ‘This guy can’t be for real.’ So I get all excited when I get a chance to chill with the guy. Like, getting a shot to see the nigga’s just normal and boring. And what’s he do on our first time out?” At that, she sat back and smirked. “So whatcha got planned tonight, Mr. D’Souza?”

  We ordered drinks, her choosing a gin and tonic. Ma would’ve been proud. When it came time to order, Syd looked at the menu, mumbling, “Bacon-wrapped shrimp, bacon-wrapped chicken, crab-stuffed tilapia. Gimme some, wrap and stuff it with other shit, and glaze it with more shit.” I cracked up, but the waiter seemed far from amused, so I asked for him to give us a few minutes.

  “You wanna go? Maybe somewhere not so stuffy?”

  She didn’t respond at first, choosing instead to return to that goofy stare, making me feel like I was being silently judged. Not like I could complain about the view. I gave in and returned the look. “Your family loves you, ya know. Even Hayl in her own fluffy way. With what you did for my girls, you’re kinda my favorite person too. For now.”

  “For now?”

  “If that waiter shows up with a basket of fries, I might change my mind.”

  I got up, throwing cash on the table as Syd chugged the rest of her drink, and motioned to the exit. We drove to a bar I knew whose food was good once you were a couple drinks in and talked until last call. Turns out she’s a bit of a shark when it comes to pool. When we went to leave, she mentioned not wanting to come back here.

  “Not like that, Eduardo. Like, let your brother and Hayl enjoy playing Ma and Pa for a night. Might be good to give ‘em practice.” I shuddered at the thought of you two procreating but agreed and took her to my place. Max loved her immediately but changed his mind when I cleaned up the bedroom, throwing his favorite pile of clothes to sleep on into the closet. Syd wound up passing out on my bed while I took the sofa, turning on the History Channel to fall asleep to tales of alien artifacts found under Lake Titicaca. Seemed appropriate.

  * * *

  I awoke at the same time I’ve been getting up for God knows how many years now and got ready for work, leaving a note and cash for Sydney when she got up. The letter suggested using the money at the cafe across the street and giving you or Hayleigh a call for a ride. I may’ve admitted where I kept my cookies as well, but I’ll be damned if I admit where they are to you. After dragging you into the house and up the stairs, I can say for certain you don’t need any more food.

  At work, not knowing what the evening would hold, I spent my potentially last day doing what made me happy: walking the floor and training everyone on their machines. If Getsinger needed a receptionist, he never said. Maybe that’s why the previous workers had been fired. Boredom from not being used led to slacking off on their phones or computer.

  Some of the new kids asked about going to the bar after work to start off the weekend, but I asked for a rain check. Getting back into the old traditions sounded nice, but there was work to be done. Instead, I drove home and picked up the essentials, mostly of the weapon and vodka variety.

  Poy was at the lumber yard when I arrived, five minutes before I had told him to be there, with a messenger bag over his shoulder covered in punk and anarchy patches. I appreciated him being prompt. When we went inside, I had to go through the usual history and questions of the site, explaining the movie, the stars we’d met, and how every bottle of anything we saw was completely useless. I directed him to hide out in the faux freezer, suggesting that he distract as many henchmen of the boss lady’s as possible once she and her group entered the building.

  Thinking he might need help, I pulled out the weapons I’d brought with me, namely the stun gun and a switchblade a buddy’d given me years back. His response was to pull out this neatly arranged roll of tools, most of which looked like torture devices. “I think I’m ready, thanks,” he said. I really didn’t want to know where he got them or why.

  I propped the doors from the front to the lumber area up with cases of skunked beer and positioned myself so I’d be easily seen from the entrance. The glass doors were pushed open at the designated time as I paced the room. As soon as the door slammed shut, Poy knocked something off a shelf in the freezer, and one of the girl’s crew walked over to investigate. That’s when I chose to spin around, facing the girl to invite her back into the rear of the building.

  I imagine she was in what she’d call her fatigues. Pointy patent leather boots, everything black, a new fluorescent pink streak in her hair. Looked like a dominatrix Getsinger might enjoy. A black backpack hung over her shoulder, and I hoped somewhere in it sat the laptop I’d built for Richter.

  What came as more of a surprise
was Officer Buzzcut, who stood next to the boss lady, holding Hayleigh in his arms, no skull mask that time to cover his smirk. Certainly could’ve found a better hostage, but I was happy they hadn’t drug you or Sydney in. Once I made eye contact with the girl, she motioned to her partner to follow her, and they both walked through the front shop and double doors into the warehouse.

  “Did you bring Richter’s stuff?” I asked once they stopped, having chosen to stay safe at a few dozen yards from me.

  “Who?” she asked, holding her face in that puckered ooh look until I responded with “My neighbor.” “Richter? That’s what he called himself? How cute. Do you know why he never revealed his name? I do. That’s why he was such a loyal worker. If anyone knew his name, his birth name, he’d have to have a chat with the rest of your neighbors about particular lists he was registered on.”

  “What was with the words in his apartment? ‘Negative zero’?”

  The girl laughed at that and turned to her partner. “Was that your idea or Mason’s?” Officer Buzzcut just smirked. “The boys were trying to implicate an old friend of mine. They’re so devoted. Like family.” At that, the military brat must’ve tightened his grip on Hayleigh ‘cause she screamed out and tried to kick the boy’s legs. He lifted her back, causing her legs to fly out in the air. In any other situation, it would’ve been comical. “Speaking of which, you said you’ve found the friends we’ve been looking for, yes?”

  “I found your Milnes, sure. But if I tell you where Carol Lee is, how do I know you leave me and the family alone, princess?”

  “You don’t.” Sounds of a struggle came from somewhere in the lumber yard, making me wonder what the hell Poy was doing and who was there with him. Hayleigh’d gone silent but shaking, and Buzzcut seemed to be the only one concerned with the noises, looking over his shoulder and cocking his head like a puppy or lizard. “But you can guarantee that if you don’t tell me right now, that we’ll destroy your family, member by member, until you’re the last. Starting with her. We’ll move on to your new little friend and her children, saving your brother for last. That’s where we’ll get creative.”

  “Fine,” I said with a snarl. “Milnes is long gone from town, but he’s not really who you’re after anyhow, right? Just a means to an end: Carol Lee. Well, you found her, princess. She’s right in this room.” The brat scoffed, but I caught him eyeing over the room. “The paperwork you found? It said you were both born. You were chosen by your parents, right? She was cast off. You’re here to welcome your parent’s trash back with open arms, right?”

  “What’re you getting at?”

  “Just trying to appreciate your benevolence, darlin’. You’re being so kind to the...to the shit your parents scraped off their shoes on the curb.” By that point, I was smiling, savoring the moment. I never claimed to be a good man.

  “You’re wasting time. Where is she?”

  “You, darlin’. You’re the garbage—”

  “Lies.”

  “The refuse your parents signed off on. Abandoned.”

  “Stop lying.” Her body tensed up, and she almost took a step forward, something inside telling her to stop, to calm down.

  “The twin they planned to keep died, princess. So they kept the runner-up.”

  She couldn’t stop herself that time, lunging into a run at me. I pushed the button on the garage door opener in my pocket, and a loud pop rang out from the bag on her back, followed by puffs of acrid smoke. The explosion caught her off-guard and sent her tumbling to the concrete floor. At once, I pounced on her, thrusting my fists without aim, not so much seeing a person to stop but an object to destroy. Dad wouldn’t’ve ever raised his hand to a woman. You’d never hit Hayleigh no matter how many men she’d slept with. But me? What can I say? I’ve always been a mama’s boy.

  According to Hayleigh, Poy came running into the room, shouting, “Goyle has set the bloody place on fire!” A Harry Potter reference, she says. All I know is he must’ve caught sight of what I was doing and ran at me, throwing his full weight against mine and shouting like a mad man. When I stood up, he crawled like a crab away from me until he met with the girl’s lifeless body. Cradling her in his arms, he sobbed and tried feeling for a pulse.

  Unlike my rampage, no one was there to stop Hayleigh’s. Not at first, at least. I watched her kicking the motionless body of Officer Buzzcut, curled into a fetal position like he was protecting himself before he lost consciousness, but stopped her when she paused to pick up a discarded piece of lumber. She told me he dropped his guard when I started my attack, prompting her to wrap her tied wrists around his neck. I don’t think I’ve ever been prouder of her than when she explained what happened once we were back in the kitchen.

  “We need to go, Hayl.” She looked at me with these crazed eyes that slowly focused back into a more cognizant look of understanding, finally nodding and looking around the room.

  “What’s burning?”

  * * *

  And that’s where we’re at, brother. Hayleigh and I ran back home. Poy was still cradling Christy’s body when we left, and it’s damn near impossible to imagine him dragging her body anywhere. Definitely couldn’t deal with the army brat’s hulking mass. And then there’s whoever he was fighting in the other room, who I can only assume was the leader of the trio. The boss lady called him Mason. Who cares? Not our concern anymore.

  Syd bandaged and boozed us up, but she mentioned you’d gone outside when you heard some commotion. That’s when we found you lying face down in the grass. You must’ve left around the front of the house and lumber yard while we came back through the back. We figure you tried to get into the warehouse, got your lungs full of smoke, and tried to make it back here, only to faceplant it. Hayleigh nearly had a heart attack when I first dragged you through the door, but she calmed down once I explained your heart was still beating strong.

  From what we can piece together from the hints you dropped between the three of us, we’ve gathered the girl came to you too. Probably blackmailed you with the ATM as well. Except she may or may not’ve mentioned she already dropped the machine back with me. The girls aren’t sure what errands you may’ve been running for her, but they figure some of the cars in the shop were hers or members of her crew. Too many came through with a so-called “friend discount” for people Hayleigh’d never seen before.

  Hayleigh explained herself as well. The Tuesday nights she’s been going out? We all knew the book club was a lie, right? My guess was an affair, to be honest. Turns out she’s been doing that Painting With A Twist thing. Got a closet full of paintings she’s been too shy to show anyone, but I’ll be damned if a few aren’t pretty good. Even asked if I could take one to hang up in my place. She thought I was joking, I guess. Not surprised after years of treating her like shit.

  But that’s all right, Bri. We’re good. We’re alive. Mostly. I’ve been drifting on the outskirts of our family for a while now, thinking I was a part of it by being some protector. Someone who watched and guarded but never needed to communicate. The past couple months of bull were me being selfish and dragging you all with me through my own personal crap. It may’ve introduced Syd and the girls to us, but that’s still no excuse. I want to be more active in all your lives and vice versa. But you need to wake up, Bri. C’mon. We can still catch the end of the Flyers-Devils game if we hurry.

  After opening up to Hayleigh and Sydney, Syd suggested we break into the girl’s house again. Grab all the phones and contact info she had. Use the network to our advantage or clean it up in some way. Almost sounds like she wants to wipe them out. Salt the earth. Maybe that’s not a bad idea. But it requires a lot of work and a lot of help. Another reason I need you conscious, brother.

  Just wake up. For Hayleigh. For me. For the shop. I need you up and alive. After Ma passed, the family kinda fell apart. But it’s time to get it rebuilt and growing. I can’t do it alone, brother. I’m sitting here with this stupid Saint Christopher medal, rubbing it like it’s a magic lam
p, like I’m trying to wear the words off, and you got me practically on the verge of praying.

  I need you.

  Just...wake up.

  FOX 29 News Transcripts for February 15, 2013

  Three-Alarm Fire in Bristol, Two Bodies Found

  Aired February 15, 2013 - 10:00 PM ET

  THIS IS A RUSH TRANSCRIPT. THIS COPY MAY NOT BE IN ITS FINAL FORM AND MAY BE UPDATED.

  CARRIE BENNETT: And now at 10:30, a fast-moving fire tears through a Bristol warehouse, forcing drivers at the nearby gas station to scramble for safety. That fire broke out just before seven inside a former lumber yard and last used as a movie set. We’re now getting an up-close look at the devastation left behind. Fox 29 News’ Inari Twembly’s at the scene. Inari?

  INARI TWEMBLY: Local residents and visitors to the neighboring Wawa gas station are amazed this massive fire didn’t spread, especially considering the leftover lumber and set props inside the warehouse. The smoldering remains right over my shoulder continue to be worked on by firefighters from Bristol, Levittown, and Eddystone Fire Companies.

  INARI TWEMBLY (voiceover): Flames quickly spread out of control in no small part to the dry lumber spread throughout nearly half of the warehouse.

  SYNDEY GEEM, Witness: We came to check out sirens and then… Burning. Everywhere you look.

  INARI TWEMBLY (voiceover): Sydney works at Mazzaro’s Automotive just next door to the warehouse and caught a portion of the blaze on her cell phone.