Random Acts

by Franklin Horton

  Another of the rooms was obviously a spare room. There was a bed and some furniture, a sewing machine in the corner, but otherwise empty. The last room was Stanley’s bedroom and Victor was taken aback at the order of it. It was the epitome of ship-shape. There was no dust and everything was as tidy and orderly as it could be.

  There was a picture of his wife on the nightstand, cocked at a precise angle. There was a digital alarm clock beside it that had to be from the sixties. Instead of the digits being electronic LCD images they were printed on thin plastic cards that flipped like a Rolodex when each minute passed.

  “Damn, Stanley, buy some new shit,” Victor mumbled, then caught himself. “Oh yeah, forgot. You can’t. You’re dead.”

  Victor opened the closet door and frowned. One half of the closet was just jumpsuits. Tan was grouped together, navy grouped together beside it. The other side of the closet was suits and other casual clothing. Fucking lot of good any of it did Victor. Stanley had been half his weight and over a foot shorter.

  He sat down naked on Stanley’s bed, knowing the angry little gnome was probably rolling over in the freezer if he had any idea this was taking place. He opened the nightstand and let out a low whistle. He’d found a gun.

  From his hours playing shooter games, Victor could identify dozens of common weapons though he’d never shot one in real life. This was an older Colt 1911. Victor picked it up, surprised at the actual heft of the thing. That was something the game didn’t portray, the weight and handling of the weapons. Operation was different in the game too; real guns didn’t fire or reload by hitting a key on the keyboard.

  He understood the trigger was the dangerous part so he kept a finger away from it. He would have to study the weapon some more and make certain he could operate it if he needed to. While in his old life he had no need for a weapon, in his new life he might. He was in unknown territory and had no idea where the road led.

  There were several spare magazines and a box of ammo in the nightstand so he laid those out on the bed with the gun. There was also a very worn leather holster and he took that too. There wasn’t any money.

  He went to the dresser and started at the top drawer. Like many folks, the top drawer was where Stanley kept an assortment of junk. It was probably important junk to the old man but none of it meant shit to Victor. There were wartime relics, medals, old watches that didn’t appear to work, spare eyeglasses, and old worn out wallets.

  Why the hell did he keep old wallets?

  There were a few coins in the drawer but they were nothing that would take care of his immediate cash needs. They were old foreign coins and silver dollars. Most of it was probably had more sentimental value. In another drawer, Stanley’s underwear was neatly folded and stacked. As much as Victor wanted clothes, there was no circumstance under which he would put on the old man’s underwear. He would go commando first.

  He did rifle around through the bottom of the drawer before closing it and uncovered a cash envelope from the bank. He tore it open and found nearly a thousand dollars in assorted bills.

  “Bingo!” Victor said. “Got it, you old bastard.”

  Victor wondered if the old man thought there was something sacred about his underwear drawer that would provide more protection for the money than putting it in any other drawer. He went to the next drawer and found neatly rolled socks. In the one below, he found a stack of gray old-school sweat suits with drawstring waists. They were troll-sized but maybe they had a little stretch to them.

  He pulled on a pair and the elastic ankles were up around his calves. That was okay. He could tolerate them for now. There was no getting the sweatshirt on though. It was a medium and he wore a 5x in shirts. He was just lucky the old fucker liked baggy pants.

  He decided to dig through the rest of the closet before he gave up on the room. He found a couple of old rifles in the closet but they were nothing he recognized from his games. One may have been a vintage military rifle, the rest hunting rifles or shotguns. He did find a cool knife on the top shelf of the closet, and it was one he had seen before. A vintage Ka-Bar.

  Before he left the room, Victor caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and realized there was no way the pants were passable in public even though he’d managed to get them on. He went through the rest of the house and found a washer and dryer in the closet of the bathroom. He retrieved his soaked clothes from the porch and threw them in.

  He went back to the living room and sat in the recliner again. He wanted to play a video game but did not have access to his equipment. Because of jail, he’d been away from his machines for days and felt an undercurrent of anxiety at not being able to log in and play. He’d accepted that his dreams of viral video stardom had probably slipped away.

  He couldn’t tell that to CamaroChick19. He was afraid she’d cut him off after her reaction to his knockout game idea. She’d been adamant that she didn’t want him doing it. Maybe she was scared for him? Cared about him? Certainly she was the only friendly face in his world right now. While it was a stretch to call her a friend, they definitely had a connection and it was probably his only connection aside from the dudes on the gaming server.

  He would have to continue playing along with her. Maybe they could disappear together and start life over again. It wasn’t the same as being a viral video celebrity, but he would be free and he could still play games all the time. They could play games and watch videos together. And maybe, just maybe, people would leave them the hell alone.

  He picked up his phone and opened Amanda Castle’s profile again. He looked at the pictures. Knowing now that she’d lost her mother, he could see the tinge of sadness she still carried in her eyes. Yes, she was a friend. He understood that now. She’d reached out to him out of the void of blackness and pain.

  He clicked on her profile again and read the details, wanting to commit them to memory. She went to high school in Northern Virginia. Her birthday was in November. For the first time, he noticed there was a phone number. He wanted to reach out to her, to hear her voice. He wanted to experience the real person on the other end. They would be connected then.

  He went to Stanley’s home phone and stared at it. It was an olive green wall-mount that had probably been there for forty years. There was perfect cell reception at the house so he wasn’t even sure why Stanley insisted on having a home phone. It was probably one of those old people things. They trusted the phone company like they trusted the power company and the nightly news.

  Victor picked up the phone and dialed Amanda’s number. He didn’t want to think about it too much or he was afraid he’d talk himself out of it. It rang.

  “Hello?”

  A man’s voice. Victor had hoped the number was a cell number. He would hear Amanda’s voice and then hang up, claiming he had the wrong number. This threw him into a panic. He hadn’t planned for this possibility.

  “Uh, I was trying to reach Amanda?” He hadn’t planned on saying anything. He wasn’t sure why his voice was acting of its own accord and speaking without him. It was yet another thing he felt like he was losing control of.

  “Who is this?” the voice asked.

  “This is …Mike,” Victor said, picking a name that should be generic enough it would be vaguely recognizable. “We went to school together.”

  “Oh, I seem to recall her mentioning a Mike. I’m Fox. Her step-dad.”

  “I was just checking in on her. I knew she’d experienced a loss. I thought this was her cell number. I apologize for bothering you.”

  “No, this is the home phone,” Fox said. “And she’s moved to North Carolina with her dad so you won’t be able to reach her at this number.”

  “North Carolina?” Victor blurted. “Where?”

  Fox hesitated, his radar apparently triggered. “Say, Mike, I didn’t get your last name.”

  Victor panicked and hung up. He couldn’t decide what approach to take so he stole a play from his mother’s playbook. Avoidance.

  He examined Ama
nda’s social media profile again. He looked the recent pictures. Aside from many of them being taken in the woods, there was nothing about them that indicated they were taken in North Carolina. Of course he hadn’t read any of the descriptions. Had he opened the descriptions and read them, as he did now, he would have seen that many of them were tagged with #WesternNC. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t caught that detail.

  He examined the pictures closer. Only one showed anything that could be tracked to a particular location, a lumber yard where she took a selfie out front. He opened the internet browser on the phone and typed in the name of the lumber yard. The results indicated there was only one business with that name. It was in Boone, North Carolina.

  Only a few hours away.

  Victor’s mind reeled with the implications. If CamaroChick19 aka Amanda Castle was that close, he could find her and put eyes on her. They could even talk. Their online friendship could become real friendship.

  Perhaps it could even become love.

  31

  Hello?”

  No answer.

  “Hello?” Fox repeated.

  He hung up. That was odd. Surely Amanda had to know several Mikes but it was odd the guy didn’t realize this number was her old home phone. Most people Amanda’s age stayed in touch via social media. They knew everything going on in each other’s lives and they didn’t get that through making calls to home phones. Their entire lives centered around their mobile devices and texting.

  He pulled out his own cell and called Amanda. It rang a couple of times before she answered.

  “Hello?”

  “Hey, Amanda, it’s Fox. How are you?”

  “I’m fine,” Amanda said. “Just sitting out here on the back porch with Dad.”

  “Everything okay?” he asked.

  “Yeah, actually it’s going pretty good. There are things I miss but I’m getting settled. I’m getting ready to start a new job and I’m pretty psyched about it.”

  “That’s great!” Fox said with exaggerated enthusiasm. He missed her. He understood why she had to go with her father but she’d become part of his life. She made him regret never having had children of his own.

  “Yeah, I’m super excited,” she said, her voice trailing off, an acknowledgement that it was unusual for Fox to just call her out of the blue.

  Fox caught it and didn’t want things to get awkward. She might not miss him the way he missed her. After all, she had her real father with her now and he was family. There was nothing Fox had to offer that Cole couldn’t.

  “Listen, Amanda, the reason I was calling was I just got a call from some guy who said his name was Mike and that he went to school with you. “

  “I knew a couple of Mikes. Did he give a last name?”

  “No, and he hung up when I asked him.”

  “Why did he call the home number?”

  “He said he thought it was your cell.”

  “What did he want?”

  “He said he was just checking in on you because he knew you’d experienced a loss.”

  Amanda was silent for a moment. “That is kind of strange. I don’t know who it would be. Most of the Mikes I know are already my friends on social media. If they want to know how I was doing they’d just ask. I don’t know anyone named Mike who would just call me up out of the blue.”

  “That’s why it struck me as strange too,” Fox replied.

  Cole was listening with growing curiosity. He was by nature paranoid and suspicious of everyone. Where his daughter was concerned, those instincts were multiplied. “Did he get a number on the guy?”

  “What, Dad?” Amanda asked.

  “Did Fox get the guy’s number on caller ID?”

  Amanda relayed the question and she fed the number back to Cole. He typed it into a note app on his own phone.

  “That’s a 704 area code,” Cole said. “That’s around the Charlotte area.”

  “Did he say Charlotte?” Fox asked.

  “Yes,” Amanda replied.

  “Doesn’t sound like anyone who would have gone to school with you,” Fox said. “Not if he lives there.”

  “He could be visiting family,” Amanda said.

  “Maybe,” Fox said. “I just wanted to pass it on because something felt off about it. Just keep your eyes open.”

  “I will. And it was good to hear your voice.”

  “Yours too, Amanda. Call if you need anything,” Fox said. “Or even if you don’t.”

  32

  On Amanda’s last day on the construction site, Larry insisted on making a big deal of it. He brought a grill with him and cooked hamburgers, hot dogs, and chicken wings for lunch. There were bags of chips and a cooler of drinks. Larry even brought a bag of Oreo cookies for dessert because they were her favorite.

  “We’re going to miss you around here, little girl,” Larry said, proposing a toast with a can of Mountain Dew. “Having a lady around made us raise the level of our game.”

  “How’s that?” Amanda asked.

  “Fewer dirty jokes,” Lupe said.

  “Less cussing,” Larry added.

  “Well thanks, guys,” Amanda said.

  Though she was excited about her new job, it was good to know they’d miss her. The cookout was a small thing but it did make her feel like she had a foothold in this world, like she belonged there in North Carolina.

  When the food was eaten, Cole stood. “I guess we need to get back to work. I figure you guys will be useless the rest of the day after everything you’ve eaten.”

  “One more thing,” Larry said.

  Cole looked at him like he was trying to delay returning to work.

  Larry smiled. “I got you a present.”

  “You didn’t have to do that,” Amanda said.

  “I didn’t do it because I had to,” Larry said. “I did it because I wanted to.”

  Amanda stood up and hugged him.

  “Don’t be hugging me yet,” he said. “You might not like it.” He ran off to his truck and came back with a hastily wrapped present complete with bow and handed it to Amanda.

  “You even wrapped it,” Amanda said.

  “I don’t do things half-assed. Present has to be wrapped even if the person wrapping it has ten thumbs and uses leftover Christmas paper.”

  “I think it’s beautiful,” Amanda said.

  Lupe and the other framers cackled.

  “Well, you better open it before your old man starts grumbling,” Larry said.

  Cole was watching with interest, apparently recognizing the size and shape of the box.

  Amanda tore into it, finding a black plastic box inside with Smith & Wesson on the outside of it. She looked at Larry curiously and he gestured for her to open the box. When she did, she found a handgun just like the one she’d admired when shooting with her dad.

  “It’s a Shield,” she said. “Oh my God.”

  “Just for you, little lady,” Larry said. “You’re not old enough to carry it concealed but this way you’ll be very proficient with it by the time you are.”

  “You didn’t have to do this, Larry,” she said.

  “We’ve already chewed that once,” he said. “I didn’t even have to go out and buy it. I bought the damn thing on sale and just never shot it.”

  “Can I keep it, Dad?”

  Cole nodded. “It has to stay in the safe for now and you can only shoot it with supervision. I think it’s a damn nice gift.”

  “Me too,” Amanda said, jumping up and hugging Larry again.

  Cole clapped his hands. “Now, everyone back to work.”

  Cole stood with his daughter while Larry gathered up the leftovers and put them in a cooler.

  “I’ve enjoyed working with you guys, Dad. Can I come back and see this house when you guys finish?”

  “Sure.”

  “It was amazing to see how one goes together. Now I feel like I can know what the bones of the house look like under the drywall and siding.”

  Cole nodded. “It�
�s been good having you here. I understand you wanting to work with people your own age. You’ll make friends and it will make this place feel more like home.”

  “Can you put this in your truck?” Amanda asked, handing the pistol case to Cole and following him to the truck. “I probably need to get going, if that’s okay. I need to fill out some paperwork for the new job. Ben says his mom does that paperwork so I have to come by during her hours and get it done.”

  Cole leaned forward conspiratorially. “Don’t tell Larry you’re going to fill out tax paperwork or you’ll get an hour long lecture about how taxation is theft.”

  Amanda laughed, then stopped abruptly. “Is it?”

  “I’ll ask you what you think after you get your first paycheck,” Cole said. “I’ve been paying you in cash and not taking out taxes. When you start getting your first legal paycheck with deductions I think your opinion will be different than it might be today.”

  Amanda kissed her dad and said goodbye to the crew. She hugged Larry yet again and assured him she’d see him on the shooting range soon. She’d driven the Wrangler that morning because she had to leave early. She climbed in and immediately had mixed feelings about leaving the crew.

  She whipped out her phone and took a selfie in her work clothes, her hair pulled back with a bandana. The light was soft as it filtered through the pines. She posted it. #EveryEndIsANewBeginning #mynewlife #nomorecarpenterchick #nomoresawdust #startinganewjob

  Amanda could barely control her exuberance when she walked into the bicycle shop. While moving to North Carolina had seemed like a new start, in other ways it merely felt like an extension of visiting her dad. She kept expecting she’d get up one day and it would be time to return to her mother in Virginia. Getting this job at the bike shop finalized the move. This was her new home and her new life. Starting today, she would make new friends.