“Oh, nice. Your bag does look heavy. Run along, and I’ll make you a snack.”
“Thanks, Mom.” He took the stairs one at a time, instead of leaping over them like he wanted to. His mother was certifiable. She meant well, but she couldn’t help being crazy.
Losing the babies and having a hysterectomy at a young age had made her that way in all likelihood. Even before the miscarriages, she’d been a little kooky, though.
His father, Jacob Pace, had married Rachel when she was only seventeen. He’d been nineteen with a good job at Spalding County Water Department—where he still worked. He used to read meters, but he’d worked his way out of the field and into a nice cushy director’s chair. His salary supported them and had bought a decent two-story suburban home in a nice neighborhood close to town.
His mother never worked. Maybe staying home and taking care of the house had been what made her crazy. It was all so nice in a Leave It To Beaver way. That would surely drive anyone batty. That and the church.
His father’s family had been members of the New Zion Baptist Church for years. One of the oldest churches in the area. Griffin hosted nearly fifty-five Baptist churches, almost as many as all the other denominations combined. When you met someone who lived in Griffin, the second thing they asked you was what church you went to. What’s your name? What church? It’s all they ever wanted to know.
Sean slung his bag on his bed and rubbed at his face. The church wasn’t bad in and of itself. The people made it good or bad. Maybe that was a worse notion. He worried though. Had the church had anything to do with his friend disappearing? They could have interfered, but more harm generally came from looking the other way, rather than actually helping someone.
Vern’s father, for instance. The man had always been a drunk. Sean worried for Vern. He took after his mother physically. Patricia Swain had been delicately boned with dark hair. She had looked like a pixie, and Vern had the same slight frame. Sean had noticed his long, delicate fingers, made for playing instruments or running over someone’s smooth bare skin. Vern had done neither of those things, though.
Where was Vern? He hadn’t seen his friend in about a week. He hadn’t been around at school and even skipped Drama Club practice, which was not like him at all. Even though he didn’t land a role in the play this year, he still helped with the props and running lines with people. It was a safe haven of sorts for him. Not seeing him there, broke Sean’s heart a little.
Damn shame he didn’t try out, too. He’d been so good in Grease the previous year. After dealing with the bullies, eventually everyone agreed, even that cow, Julie Decker, once she got over it. She’d helped convince her boyfriend to back off about kissing him in the play because Vern was gay. Great logic. Him being harassed so terribly when he was a better actor than anyone else in the club, sucked. He truly proved his acting chops as Kenickie, but after his mother died, Vern didn’t have any fight left in him.
Not knowing what to do or think, Sean pulled out his books and pretended to study. He put his headphones on. Music always helped relax him, allowing him to think things through with a calm head. He listened to his playlist, sitting at his desk, staring blankly at his books.
He had a burning need to find out what had happened to Vern. He couldn’t explain it. Whatever it was had manifested in nightmares. He’d woken up several nights with goosebumps on his arms, convinced Vern needed him. He had a bad feeling his friend was in trouble. He couldn’t shuck it off as not his responsibility any longer. Vern only had one friend—Sean. He hated being the only person in the world to give a damn about Vern. The only one around who could relate to him, understand him on some level. Being gay was only part of it.
Being gay, being bullied, being harassed, being miserable at home. Sean understood those things, though Vern had it worse than him, hands down, which made it even more important to do the right thing and look out for him. He worried Vern’s father had done something. Hurt Vern. He hated that he’d waited so long to find him, but school shit had gotten in the way, and Vern was more than likely sick or something just as inane.
He took out a sheet of paper and made a list.
Check the hospitals.
Go by Vern’s house.
What else? With a long sigh, he added one more item to the list.
Call the police.
Then he scratched it out. They wouldn’t help him. His instincts said the police in Griffin, like the church, would look the other way. They might ask questions and go through an investigation, but when they turned up nothing, they’d shrug it off. No one in Griffin cared about Vern. Maybe no one in the world did, and it did not seem right at all.
His mother pushed his door open, and Sean instantly skipped to the next track on his playlist.
“Hello, Sean. Here’s a snack for you.” She put a tray on his desk, right on top of his list. He hoped she hadn’t seen it. “What are you listening to?”
He pulled his earbuds out of his ears. “Vivaldi.” He held it up, and she bent over to listen. She nodded her head to the music for a moment. “Summer. My favorite.” He could hear the violins rushing forth in the tiny speakers.
“Oh, nice. One of my favorites, too.” He gave her a sweet smile. Out of all the crap he could have on his playlist, that one he truly enjoyed. He’d organized it so every other song was classical or Christian. In between, he had pop and rock. His parents didn’t allow him to listen to anything but the two C’s, and neither meant country, either. “It’s probably his best.”
She patted him on the head before leaving.
Sean relaxed back in his chair. He couldn’t wait to get out of the house. He’d be eighteen in a few days, but he still had responsibilities. The Baptist Camp had been a reprieve of sorts for him over the years. It let him spend the long summers away from his parents. This year, as a senior, Sean would be one of the counselors. He looked forward to it, but it wouldn’t give him a lot of time to play detective, and he still needed to find Vern.
The next day after school, Sean skipped Drama to go by Vern’s house. He had to ride his bike the entire way, since his stupid truck had finally died. It hadn’t been worth repairing either. He sold it to the junk yard for scrap and put the money into his college fund.
He knocked on the door, unsure of what kind of response he would get. It took a moment, and as he waited, he contemplated leaving without talking to Mr. Swain. He’d decided to go as the door swung open.
“What?”
“S-Sorry, Mr. Swain. I’m, uh, looking for Vern? Is he, uh, is he here?”
Vern’s father reeked of alcohol and vomit. His face had three days of beard growing and looked scraggly. His eyes were a sickly green against bloodshot. He crinkled up his nose into a snarl. “Vern ain’t here. Ain’t been here in days. Ungrateful brat. Good riddance—that one.” He propped a hip against the doorjamb and crossed his arms over his chest. “What d’ you want with him anyway? Who are you?” His slurred words ran into each other, but Sean got the gist of it.
“I’m Sean. Sean Pace from church. I wanted to let him know, uh...about the special event, the senior party, at the camp. Saturday. And can he come?”
“If he shows up, I’ll tell ‘em. But don’t count on it.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
Sean backed away from the door as if retreating from a wild animal, not making any sudden movements. He reached for his bike but didn’t take his eyes off of Vern’s father. The man gave him the creeps. Before he got back on his bike, Mr. Swain stepped back inside and slammed the door shut. Sean’s shoulders relaxed, and he let out the breath he’d been holding.
Vern wasn’t home. Initially, he imagined that would be a bad thing, but after speaking with his dad, Sean was relieved. He wished Vern had come to him about it all—whatever he was going through.
Not that Sean could do anything for him. His parents wouldn’t take Vern in, seriously. He could have offered for him to sleep over, but it would have only been for one night. And wha
t was one night in Vern’s messed-up life?
Shaking his head, Sean headed home.
The Baptist Camp always had special events, and Sean actually enjoyed going to them. This year’s senior party should have been a great time. He’d planned with the others to make it fun and not crammed with a bunch of Bible verses like the elders always wanted. Most of the kids had been forced to attend camp and church by well-meaning parents, but no one wanted the Bible crammed down their throats.
Easing up on the rules and restrictions made camp a bit better than regular church. They could cut loose a little, have some fun, and not make it all about religion. They got to do outdoor activities, archery, kayaking, softball, and indoor activities like foosball. At night, there would always be a game of capture the flag. They segregated most events into male and female, but sometimes they’d get to join the girls.
The senior party was in the recreation center. It would be like a dance with both sexes, but dancing would be carefully monitored. As if dancing with a girl would get her pregnant or something. The adults tended to be a bit overzealous.
There would also be a foosball tournament, plenty of refreshments, and time to hang out. But of course, it all started with a prayer.
Once most of the kids had arrived, Sean helped Corey, the adult leader, gathered everyone into the auditorium area. They stood on the stage and opened the event with a word of prayer and a verse from the Bible. Then Sean said a few words thanking everyone for coming, thanking those who had helped him get it all set up, and kind of saying goodbye to it all. Since he’d turned eighteen, he’d be doing different things in the church. To him, it all sounded very scripted. After he finished, though, the kids could relax and have some fun, so he kept it short.
Many of the kids stopped to wish him a happy birthday as he made his way to the lounge area for a snack and some punch. He poured a cup and looked around. He shouldn’t have been surprised, but he was. Vern had not shown up.
“What’s wrong, Sean?” his friend, Evan, asked. He had grown up with Evan, and though he wouldn’t consider them close, he trusted Evan.
“Vern’s not here. Haven’t seen him in over a week.”
“You’re worried.”
“Of course. You know his father. How he is.”
“Drunk.”
Sean nodded and frowned. He didn’t like talking bad about others, but truth was truth. “I’m so worried.”
“Think his dad did something to him?”
Sean chuckled. “Always the nefarious ideas first, Evan?”
He shrugged. Evan had a passion for horror stories, crime novels, and anything on the dark side.
“I don’t know. He wasn’t home when I went by earlier in the week, and he hasn’t been in school.”
“Okay. So? If his dad didn’t off him, then he had to have split, right? Ran away?”
“I... shoot. I don’t know. Maybe.”
“What other explanations do you have? He’s hanging out at home? His dad is holding him hostage?”
“Who’s being held hostage?” Another kid from camp joined them. Daryl wasn’t Sean’s favorite, but he was okay. He tended to try a little too hard, but Sean remembered he’d been nice to Vern in the past.
“Vern. Maybe,” Evan answered.
“He’s kind of missing,” Sean added, to clarify.
“Oh.” Daryl scrunched his face up. He wore wire-rim glasses, and kept his hair cut very short, making his ears stick out. “I noticed he wasn’t here. I was hoping he’d show up. He’s the only one who ever wants to play Risk with me.”
Evan groaned. “Because the game sucks, and Vern’s too nice to tell you no.”
“It doesn’t suck,” Daryl argued.
“Guys.” Sean did not want to hear their side-tracked conversation. “Seriously, what do you think I should do about Vern?”
“What can you do?” Evan asked, and Daryl shrugged. “I mean, surely, if he ran away, and Lord knows he had reason to. Plus, he’d be eighteen by now, right? No one’s going to actually look for him.”
“Exactly. Which is why I think I have to.”
“Where you gonna look?”
Sean rubbed the palm of his hands over his face and dragged his fingers over his cheeks. “I don’t know. Where would Vern go?”
Daryl put his arm around Sean’s shoulders. “You know him better than us. Better than anyone. If anyone knows, it’s you.”
“Yeah.” Evan nodded.
“He wanted to go to Miami. To an acting school there.”
Daryl shook Sean’s shoulders. “I bet he left early ’s all.”
“He didn’t graduate. He can’t get in if he didn’t graduate.” Sean worried even more.
“He’s like super smart, Sean. I’d bet he’ll figure out a way to get his GED. I’d worry more about how he’s going to eat? How’s the boy gonna eat?”
“Why do you think I’m so worried?” Sean held up his hands. His friends were finally getting up to speed on what Sean had been concerned about for the past week or so. “I’m done. So... done with this. I have to find him. No one else is going to, and seriously, I can’t forget about it.”
“How can we help?” Evan asked.
Sean shrugged. “I’m not sure. I’ll let you know. Right now? Let’s try and enjoy the party.”
On the way home from the camp, the bus stopped at Tucker’s Auto. The driver, Corey, needed to pick up some part, and most of the kids had already been dropped off. Sean had met Tucker in church, and he had the biggest crush on him.
Evan got off the bus behind Sean, and they lingered in the parking lot while Corey went in to get the part. “Still thinking of going after him?”
“Yeah. I’m not sure how, but it’s the right thing to do.”
Tucker walked around the side of the bus. “Do what?” His piercing blue eyes questioned them.
Before Sean decided what to say, Evan burst out with, “He’s going to Miami to find Vern.”
Tucker wiped his hands on a greasy cloth. “Who’s Vern?”
Sean sighed. He didn’t want to talk about it with Tucker. He didn’t want to look stupid in front of him, but Evan had already spilled the plan. “A friend. From school and church and camp.” He stuck his thumb out and gestured toward the bus. “He disappeared, and I’m worried about him.”
“You think he went to Miami?”
Sean nodded. “We think he ran away. His mom died, and his dad, well... let’s just say it wasn’t a good situation for Vern.”
“Uh-huh.” Tucker put his hands on his hips. His gray overalls hid his body but made his eyes jump out. Tucker had to be the sexiest man in town. His reddish-brown hair cut short on top and buzzed to almost nothing around his ears and those intense eyes were seriously sexy. “So, why Miami? That’s a long way from home.”
“There’s a school he wanted to go to there. I gotta look there first, seriously.”
“Did you call them?”
Evan snorted. “That’d be smart, Sean.”
Sean shoved Evan’s shoulder. “I did call, you dork. They wouldn’t give me any information. If he’s registered, I’m not on his paperwork. I have to go there and see for myself. I gotta find out if he’s okay.”
Tucker pointed at him, greasy rag still in his hand. “You’re right. It’s the right thing to do. We need to help him.”
“We?” Sean asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Yeah. Who else? You can’t go alone, Sean. No way.”
“Uh, Tucker,” Evan spoke up. “What do you care? Sorry, but it’s not like we even know each other. You don’t know Vern.”
“We know enough. Weren’t we all raised in the same church? Sean is right. He who knows the right thing to do, and doesn’t do it...”
“Uh...not sure that’s how the scripture goes,” Evan muttered.
“Okay. Fine. So, you’ll help? What do we do? Because I need to go there now.” Sean couldn’t wait another day. The sun was already setting on this one, and Vern could be in real trouble
while they sat around chatting about it. The whole situation had built up in his head more and more. His thoughts grew grimmer by the day and pressed on him until he might explode if he didn’t take some action.
“I need to think. We’ll make a plan. Stay here, Sean.”
Corey walked out of the shop and back to the bus, nodding for the boys to get in.
“Uh, Sean’s going to stay and help me with something. I’ll take him home later. Okay?”
“Sure. If it’s okay with Sean.”
Sean nodded and waved as the bus drove away.
“I didn’t think you’d want to tell him what’s going on, but I didn’t lie. You’re going to help me find Vern, and then I’ll make sure you get home. Okay? I’m thinking it may take a few days. Are your parents going to be okay with this?”
“No. Probably not, but I’m doing it anyway.”
“Sean...”
“Tucker...” Sean’s stomach flipped over. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions. And this is important. Vern could be in trouble.”
Tucker sighed. “Yeah, okay. Hey...I think I remember him. Mousy kid, right? Thick glasses. Nerdy. Very quiet. His dad was always—”
“Drunk. Yeah, that’s him.”
“You’re right. We do need to help him.”
SIX
Tucker
“We’re going to need snacks and stuff. So here.” Tucker pulled out his wallet and handed over some cash, probably forty bucks’ worth, but he didn’t count it. He thrust it into Sean’s hand without a second thought. “There’s a Kroger up there.” He pointed across the road.
“I know where it is.”
“I’ll pick you up there. So...you know, get whatever you want.” He waved his hand in the air. He didn’t care what Sean picked up. Tucker could eat or drink anything. “I need to tie up ends here.”
“Can you take off? Without any notice?” Sean was so cute, all concerned about him. Come to think of it, Sean was down right adorable. His blond hair was trimmed up nice and neat, and he dressed in cargo shorts, a camp t-shirt, and sneakers, but he still looked more grown-up than Tucker recalled.
Demon or Angel (Age of Exilum Book 1) Page 5