Crusader

by Edward Bloor

  But Ray Lyons didn't want to hear that. He was too angry. He went after Angela. "This is too low even for the likes of you! This violates every standard of journalism. I'm going to sue you for your entire worth!"

  Angela reacted very calmly. She pointed to me and said, "Hey, Ray. It was a mistake. The kid put the wrong tape in."

  "The hell she did. First you tricked me with that old-people question—"

  Knowlton interrupted, "I did not authorize any question about the elderly."

  Mr. Lyons poked a finger at her. "You manufactured that tape! You're trying to destroy me!"

  "Why would I do that?"

  In the middle of all this yelling back and forth, I announced, "I did it." Then I said it again. And again.

  Angela heard me first. She turned away from her eyelock with Lyons, so he looked at me, too. I waited until I had everybody's attention before I repeated, "I did it. I manufactured the tape."

  Mr. Lyons himself said, "You? How?" as if he didn't believe I could be capable of doing such a thing.

  "I used Suzie's videotape, and my intern skills, and a Channel Fifty-seven editing board."

  He stared at me for several long seconds. Then he asked me, "Why?"

  I stared back at him. I looked at the whole line of them: Philip Knowlton, Richard Lyons, Joe Daley, Suzie, Bill. I heard myself answer in a voice that began low but continued to rise: "Because you killed all those turtles, Mr. Lyons. Because your son wants to turn my world into his golf course. Because you're lying to us about the recap. And because of Hawg."

  Ray Lyons looked at Knowlton, bewildered. "Who is Hawg?"

  I continued. "Hugh Mason. From west Georgia. He's dead. So is Mrs. Weiss. Will tried to die, too, in the trash trailer, but we wouldn't let him. I guess we're all going to be dead someday, Mr. Lyons. But I'm alive right now. I'm standing here at the edge of your ditch, and I'm looking at you, with all your money, and all your people, and I'm saying, I will not jump in the ditch like all the others. You will have to shoot me. I will not give up! Do you understand? I will not give up—no matter what you do, I will never, ever give up!"

  The whole wall of them stared at me as if I were insane. Time seemed to stand still.

  Ray Lyons finally looked at Suzie and sputtered, "Who is this?"

  I answered, "I am Roberta Ritter. My mother was Mary Ann Ritter."

  Suzie stammered, "She's—she's just a girl. She's just an employee here at the mall."

  I said, "I'm more than that, Suzie. I'm your stepdaughter."

  A look of horror came over Suzie's face. She stammered, "That's not true!"

  Ray Lyons glared at her. But before he could say anything else, Philip Knowlton cut in, "Ray. It's crunch time. It's time to circle the wagons. There are network crews setting up out there right now. Here's what you're going to say to them to try to salvage this election."

  Ray Lyons looked completely lost. Knowlton instructed him, "You are going to announce that the recap has come through. You are going to announce that the new phase of Century Towers is starting."

  Richard Lyons shouted, "What?"

  Knowlton cut him off dead. "Butt out, Richard! It's off. The golf course deal is off."

  Richard glared at him, seething with rage.

  Joe Daley and the candidate made their way outside to meet with the reporters. Before he followed, Philip Knowlton turned to me. He said, coldly and quietly, "And when I'm through with you, miss, you'll be—"

  But I cut Knowlton off dead. "I'll be what? A poor kid with no job?"

  Knowlton stood there for many seconds, many seconds longer than he had time for. He finally said, as if thinking out loud, "Huh! I underestimated you. Didn't I?" Then he went outside.

  I had no intention of staying in that office, either. I pushed my way through Ray Lyons's family and hurried into the parking lot. I found a good spot to watch the on-air newspeople in action.

  Tonight there was a new face among them.

  Mr. Herman, in his black toupee, was jostling for position among the mob of younger reporters. He was sticking his microphone into Ray Lyons's face and shouting at him, just like all the others.

  I heard Ray Lyons tell them, "I never said what you heard on that tape. Like a lot of my elderly constituents, I have been the victim of a fraud. I was set up. That tape you saw was doctored."

  One of them shouted, "Who set you up, Ray?"

  "I don't know. Not yet. For now, let me set the record straight. Ten years ago I committed my company to building a mall and a condo community for the elderly on this site. I am still committed to that. I am committed to getting this project recapitalized immediately. I am committed to proceeding with the next phase of Century Towers. And I am committed to an investment in the mall infrastructure, so no more kids have to get rescued. The last time I was here I had to carry a dozen children to safety."

  The reporters all started shouting at once. Mr. Herman shouted right along with them. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I wanted to walk up to him, shove a microphone in his face, and ask, "Mr. Herman? What high standard is guiding you now? What ideal are you pursuing?" But I didn't.

  Mr. Lyons finally turned away from them all and disappeared into his limo. Philip Knowlton shouted, "No further questions! You have your story. The candidate was set up. He's the victim of a political dirty trick. We'll have an official press conference in an hour."

  The reporters all packed up quickly and hurried back to their trucks. Mr. Herman was running right along with them. I realized that I had never seen him run before.

  He looked ridiculous.

  After being in crowds for so long, it felt odd to walk alone back to the condo. I felt light. I felt giddy. I told myself out loud, "Way to go, Roberta. You lost your job yesterday. You lost your internship today. If you can get expelled tomorrow, you'll have all the time in the world."

  After I got into the condo, I walked straight out to the balcony. I picked up the portable phone, checked a number, and dialed.

  A gruff voice answered, "Yes?"

  "Mr. Lewis?"

  "Yes."

  "This is Roberta Ritter from the West End Mall in South Florida. Do you know who I am?"

  "Yes, I do, Roberta. What can I do for you?"

  "Nothing. I had a message to call you back, so I'm calling."

  "Oh? Oh yeah. Well, you know we got stuck with the shipping charges for your franchise materials."

  "Were we supposed to pay them?"

  "Technically, yes. It's part of the contract. You always pay your own shipping."

  "We have to pay even after we've lost everything?"

  "Technically, yes. Or it comes out of your collateral. Colonel Frank Ritter's collateral, I should say."

  "I think I speak for my uncle, Colonel Frank Ritter, when I say that he doesn't care anymore."

  "Oh. Okay. I just wanted to let you know."

  "Is that it?"

  "Yeah. I guess so."

  I wondered, "Is this how it ends for your franchisees?"

  "Some of them."

  "How many of them?"

  "I'd say maybe half."

  "And we were in the wrong half?"

  "I guess so. Oh well. Deus vult, right?"

  I held the phone out for a moment. "What did you say?"

  "Deus vult. It was the motto of the crusaders."

  "It was?"

  "Yeah. Didn't you ever see it written on his collar?"

  "Isn't it volt?"

  "No. It's not supposed to be, anyway."

  "What does it mean?"

  "It means 'God wills it.'"

  "It doesn't mean 'Two volts'?"

  "No. It's Latin."

  "Of course." I stopped for a moment to collect my thoughts. Mr. Lewis hung on the line, so I asked him, "Mr. Lewis?"

  "Yes?"

  "What did God will?"

  "What?"

  "Deus vult. 'God wills it.' So what did God will?"

  "I don't know. I guess God willed that the crusaders should
take back the Holy Land from the infidel. That's what the legend says, right?"

  "Right. So you don't mean that God willed Hawg's death, do you?"

  "Hawg?"

  "Because I was there, and Hawg did that to himself. I didn't see God do anything."

  "Uh-huh."

  "Or did God will Ironman's death? Because if He did, He didn't get His way. We saved him."

  "Ironman?"

  "Or do you just mean, no matter what happens, either way, whether it's good or bad, God wills it?"

  "You lost me, kid. Are you okay?"

  "Yeah. I'm okay. I just don't know what God wills."

  "Neither do I. But I think we'd better wrap this up."

  "Okay." I hung up. Then I went into my bedroom, got undressed, and crawled into bed. I knew it was the wrong night, but I switched on the TV and lay there with the remote control anyway, searching the airwaves in vain for Stephen Cross.

  TUESDAY, THE 31ST

  I woke up early today. I poured a glass of orange juice and stood on the balcony, taking in the swamp view.

  I noticed a peculiar smell. Peculiar, but familiar. Then I recognized it. It was the swamp gas smell that had filled the mall during the Santa seat disaster. I had never noticed it out here before. I stood in that damp, sulfurous air and thought about the day that stretched before me.

  I thought about this: Today was Halloween. Seven years ago, this day became my mom's last on earth. What would today become for me?

  When I passed through the entrance, I spotted a clumsily printed CLOSED sign on the door of the mall office. I walked through the rotunda and stopped before the door of Arcane, Slot #32. It was dark inside.

  I turned around and leaned with my back against the door, waiting for someone to show up. A pair of power-walkers huffed by, then I saw a flash of motion across the way. Someone was in the window of Slot #61. I crossed over there and peered in.

  It was Leo. I watched him drag the three mannequins to the back and stack them up, like cords of firewood. I rapped on the window. Leo looked up, annoyed, but then he saw who it was. He hurried over and let me in.

  Right away he started explaining something to me, like I knew what he was talking about. "Mrs. Weiss had this planned for a long time, but she had to get it approved. I guess it came through too late for her."

  "What did?"

  "The expansion." He explained further, "The thing I've been talking to Millie—uh, Mrs. Roman—about. Don't you know?"

  "No."

  "The card store's gonna expand into Slot #61 here. It's gonna be a double slot, like Eyes and Ears, and Sports Authority. It's gonna be one of those Hallmark Gold Crown Stores. You know what those are?"

  "No."

  "They're the big ones. They don't just sell cards. They sell those collectible things, bears and stuff. They sell boxes of candy, stationery, wedding napkins. All kinds of stuff. Expensive stuff."

  I looked around at the empty, dusty space. "Do you think this is a good idea, Leo? What if the mall goes under?"

  One of the mannequins started to slip off the pile. Leo gave it a kick back into place. "Ah, there's no use thinking like that, Roberta. You gotta move forward in life. Who knows what's gonna happen? Mrs. Weiss always made money here. You just have to make up your mind to do it, too."

  "Yeah. Hey, Leo, did Suzie know about this? Did she know the card shop was expanding?"

  Leo gave a delighted snort. "Suzie? What did she ever know?"

  "She must have. I'm going to ask her."

  "I don't think so. Suzie don't work here no more."

  "What?"

  Leo beamed with pleasure. "It was a beautiful thing to behold. Lyons sent that rent-a-cop of his back last night. I was right outside the door, helpin' Sam move those TVs. I watched the whole thing. He came in and told her she was canned. Then he stood there while she packed up her stuff. He did everything but take his gun out and shoot her. She walked out with a cardboard box full of things, then he took her key away and locked up the office."

  I couldn't help myself—I smiled along with him. Then I turned and looked across the way. I saw Dad opening the glass doors of our slot. By the time I said good-bye to Leo, left La Boutique de Paris, and crossed the mallway, Kristin and Will had arrived, too. Once we all got inside, Dad slid the doors closed again.

  He said, "Good morning, everybody," but no one answered. We were a sullen group today, there for one purpose only: to dismantle the hardware of Arcane—The Virtual Reality Arcade, and to pack it into boxes.

  Dad started to say something else, but he thought better of it. He led the way back to the office and opened the outside door, revealing a big pile of cardboard boxes. We started to haul them in; still, no one spoke.

  I broke the silence when I asked Kristin, "What do you hear about Karl?"

  She shook her head grimly. "Nothing yet. Dad was at the Atlantic County Medical Center all night. He's trying to get Karl released, but it's just not happening. That judge's order has him bound for the Positive Place for at least ten days."

  "Oh, god. What's he going to do?"

  Kristin's eyes filled with tears. "I don't know. Karl is really very fragile. Last time he was there, he shut down completely."

  "How bad a place is it?"

  "They put, like, criminally insane kids there. Kids who kill their parents in their sleep. Kids who stuff their pets into microwaves. Stuff like that." Kristin's tears poured out. "And what did Karl ever do? He never killed anybody. He tried to get out of here with Hawg. Who can blame him for that?"

  "I'm really sorry, Kristin."

  "I just wish I knew why he did that."

  I knew I had to tell her. "He did it to help me."

  Kristin pressed her T-shirt against her wet eyes. "What do you mean?"

  "I told him I needed a distraction. I needed to get Bill out of the RV. He figured the rest out himself."

  Kristin nodded, slowly and thoughtfully. "He did?"

  "Yeah."

  She wiped her eyes some more. Then she smiled as best she could. She said aloud, "Not bad, Karl."

  I tried to smile, too. "No. Not bad at all. He did his part. Now we have to wait and see if I did mine."

  "What do you think is going to happen?"

  "Did you hear what Lyons told the reporters?"

  "No."

  "He said the recap would come through for the mall. He even said he would start building at Century Towers again."

  "Those could all be lies."

  "They could. But Philip Knowlton is a smart man. And a politician. I'm betting we see a new Ray Lyons from here on out."

  We heard a rap on the glass. It was Suzie. Her eyes looked puffy, like she had been crying. Or drinking. Dad walked over and let her in. He asked her, "Where were you last night?"

  Kristin went back to work, but I stayed by the door. Suzie looked over at me and then mumbled, "At home."

  "At your old place?"

  "Yeah. It's mine until November first."

  "I thought you were coming out to the beach place."

  Suzie looked at me again, as if to say it would be nice if I left them alone, but I didn't. She turned back to Dad. "I got fired last night."

  "No!"

  "Yes. After that ... zoo left, I stayed to try to sort some things out. Mr. Lyons sent that Joe Daley guy back with orders to fire me. He wasn't very nice about it, either."

  "Why? What for?"

  "He didn't even know. Or care. All he would say was, 'Orders from Mr. Lyons.'" Suzie blew her nose into a Kleenex. "I get blamed for everything that goes wrong in this damn place. And I get credit for nothing."

  Dad said, "Come here." He put his arm around her and walked her toward an empty wall.

  I wanted to get to work, but I heard another rap on the glass. I turned to see two little girls. They were dressed in Halloween costumes with pointy black witches' hats. I slid the door open a crack, and the taller of the two said, "Trick or treat."

  "Uh, sorry. We're closed."

  Th
e taller girl turned to go, but the other one persisted, "The stores in the mall are supposed to give us candy."

  "But we're not open anymore. We're out of business."

  "The stores are supposed to give us candy."

  The taller one added, "We're not allowed to trick-or-treat in our neighborhood. There are too many crazy people. They put razor blades in the candy."

  I said, "Yeah. I know."

  "So we're supposed to go around the mall instead."

  I reached into my pocket and pulled out a ten-dollar bill. "Here. Take this to Lombardos Drugs and get some bags of candy. Then bring the bags back here. I'll leave them outside, and kids can help themselves."

  "Can we help ourselves?"

  "Sure. You can be the first ones."

  "Okay." The taller witch took the money, and the two of them ran off toward Lombardo's.

  I joined Kristin and Will in the center of the arcade. We quickly disassembled King Kong, Vampire's Feast, Viking Raid, Serpent's Lair, Mekong Massacre, Genghis Khan Rides!, Galactic Defender, and Dragon Slayer.

  Soon only Crusader remained. Will and I set to work to dismantle what was left of him. I knew we were both thinking about that day with Hawg when we put him together. Will wasn't grinning. Far from it. He started to sniffle and then to cry.

  By eleven-thirty all of the Arcane experiences, legends, CDs, helmets, wands, and promotional displays were packed away. Dad was saying a long good-bye to Suzie somewhere near the front of the store, so Kristin, Will, and I hung out in the back waiting for the UPS guy.

  He arrived right on time. As soon as I opened the door, he told me, "I got a notice this morning that your account is closed. No more deliveries."

  "That's right. No more deliveries. Just one more pickup."

  "If I pick anything up, you're going to have to pay cash."

  "No. These are cash on delivery."

  "No way. I'm not taking anything from here COD."

  Kristin stepped between us. She leveled a stare right in the UPS guy's face. "Fine. Leave them, then. But these cartons aren't our property anymore. They belong to Arcane Industries, in Antioch, Illinois."

  The guy leaned backward. "Listen, you gotta work it out with them. I'll pick the boxes up tomorrow."