Monday Girl's Revenge

by David A. Thyfault

  Wow. Another job. A rush of pride proved that Mr. Kraft was correct when he said it was important to do a good job even if nobody was watching. “Glad to,” Stump said, “but I won’t have any extra time for a while.”

  “Well, it’s always good to know people you can count on. Let me know if you become available.”

  “Sure will. Thanks.”

  After they traded numbers, Stump made a gleeful exit. He almost ran back to Cal-Vista, but that would be too kid-like. Instead, he took one quick hop before adding a couple more notes to his iPhone. He could hardly wait to share his findings with sweet-lipped Maria.

  Twenty minutes later, he and Maria walked hand-in-hand toward the ice cream store. He could barely contain his enthusiasm as he filled her in on the job offer and what he’d learned about the notebook code and Dixon. Stump was the happiest he’d been in a long time. He jammed his hand in his pocket and damn near got sick. “Oh no! I lost my iPhone.”

  “Are you sure?” Maria said. “When was the last time you had it?”

  Stump thought back. “Right after I returned from the Connors’s place. We have to retrace our steps.”

  They hurried back to Cal-Vista where a cursory search of the most likely areas proved fruitless. They rushed over to Juanita and Manuel’s place where Manuel complained that Dixon screwed them out of more money. Finally Manuel speculated that Dixon was probably behind the missing iPhone and said someday somebody was gonna nail that dude.

  Stump grabbed Maria’s hand and they ran to Dixon’s apartment but got nothing more than snarky comments about Stump’s irresponsibility. Stump was in no mood for the bullshit.

  “We can tape hand-made signs on the outer doors of each building,” Maria said as they walked across the courtyard toward her apartment. “Whoever finds your phone can bring it to my place.”

  Stump plopped onto a picnic table. “Dixon was right. I’m a loser. The biggest damn meeting of my life is tomorrow night and I lose my iPhone. I can’t even communicate with anybody.”

  Maria placed her hand on his shoulder. “You can borrow mine.”

  “That won’t help. None of my people know your number.”

  “But you probably know theirs. You could call the key people and let them know what happened. Then they could still reach you.”

  “I guess that’s better than nothing. Are you sure you can get by without it until after the meeting?”

  “Of course. That’s what people who love each other do.”

  Stump sighed borrowed her cell, pink case and all, and headed home to his other responsibilities. He owed Maria more than ever.

  In his apartment, he snagged a bag of chips and slipped into his room, where he grabbed the copies of Dixon’s notebook. To test his theory, he wrote out the alphabet on a single line. Below the letters he wrote the numbers one through twenty-six. Then he examined the first line on one of the pages.

  b-bja 15,23,5,19 bjj 15,14 af20,8.

  If the number one stood for the first letter in the alphabet and vice versa, as he suspected from his previous examination, there was a good chance that each of the first two b’s stood for the number two. He jotted two two’s on a separate line. Then, he’d already guessed that the letter j stood for zero, so he wrote that down and grinned. Next, the number one should replace letter a, and that meant the first four characters stood for 2-201 and he knew what that meant. A gleeful chill tickled his neck. He reached for his cell to call Maria, but...oh yeah, he had her phone.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Finally. The day for Stump’s presentation had arrived. Given that he’d followed Danielle Delgado’s plan so closely, the bureaucrats would surely approve his idea and implement some sort of program to make homes safer in his old neighborhood. After that project was out of the way, he could sleep better and focus on his other pressing issues, like attending to his slipping grades and paying Myles back.

  This time he would act more professional. He placed both his painting clothes and his nicest dress clothes in a plastic bag, and then pocketed both his learner’s permit and Maria’s cell. Ready, he mounted Ol’ Ug’ and pedaled to school.

  During first break he called Danielle Delgado and confirmed that everybody else had finished his or her tasks. Then he acted on one of Myles’s suggestions and called Mr. Feldsen at Inland bank. The banker couldn’t make the meeting but he offered to drop by some business cards and brochures in case any residents needed loans.

  At lunch, Stump wrote out the bullet points of his speech so that he could review them throughout the afternoon. His mom would be proud.

  When the final bell rang, he donned his backpack and rode to Cal-Vista for a couple hours of work. On the way, he got to thinking that Maria had changed his life in ways he’d never imagined. Whether it was when she showed him how to paint, or when she made early reference to his being her crushboy, or showing her compassion for her mother or lending him her pink phone, the outcome was always the same: Maria made Stump’s life better. Maybe this was love, maybe not, but he was all for it.

  A few minutes later Stump and Ol’ Ug’ pulled into a Walgreens lot where Stump acted on another one of Myles’s recommendations. Inside, he found the condom display.

  At Cal-Vista, Juanita’s cleaning cart was near the entrance to building three. Stump cuffed Ol’ Ug’ to the rack and then found her in the laundry room, where clothes flopped in noisy machines offering enough background noise to quash any eavesdroppers. “I’ve got some news for you,” he said.

  “Me too. You first.”

  Stump filled her in about his meeting with Mr. Connors. “But the most interesting thing is, Mr. Connors said a lady detective has been asking questions about Dixon.”

  Juanita’s brows drew together. “That’s interesting alright. Did he say why?”

  “Apparently she mostly wanted to know about Dixon’s previous wives.”

  “Good, maybe the cops have finally figured out what’s going on.” Juanita glanced toward the hall. “Speaking of his exes, Dixon told Francisca to move out.”

  A coldness climbed Stump’s back.

  “I saw her crying by the new garden,” Juanita continued. “She said she tried everything, but he wouldn’t change his mind.”

  “Did she say if he ever hurt her?” Stump knew his question sounded insensitive, but Francisca might have some information that would help him in The Case of Did He Or Did He Not? “We have to make sure she tells us where she goes, in case she needs us or we need her.”

  “Okay. If I see her, I’ll give her my number.”

  “I’ll watch for her too. By the way, I figured out the code for the notebook.”

  “Good. Does it say how he screws us over?”

  “I haven’t had time to figure that out.”

  “Well, hurry up. Now that he’s thrown Francisca out, I really want to see him get arrested.”

  Their conversation done, Stump hightailed it to Maria’s apartment. She answered her door wearing a pretty pink T-shirt and white shorts that accented her long golden legs. “Hi,” he said before he gave her back her cell. “I’ve got something to show you.” He reached in his back pocket and pulled out several sheets of folded paper. “I figured out Dixon’s code. The first complete sentence says ‘2-201 owes 200 on the 16th’.”

  Maria’s eyelids popped open. “Really? That’s great. Does it say anything about him hitting Mama?”

  Stump shoved the papers back in his pants. “Not yet. I just got started, but I should be able to figure it all out within a few days, after my meeting.”

  She clapped her hands “You deserve a reward.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I think too, but not ’til I get off. I’m painting the lines in the parking lot and I want to finish as many as I can to impress Mr. Kraft.”

  “I love you,” Maria said as she planted a lip-peck on his cheek.

  There was the “L” word, again. “Would you mind if we meet in Mr. Kraft’s office after I get off work? You might be able to help me p
ractice what I want to say at my meeting.”

  “Okay. But you better be ready for that reward.”

  She could count on that.

  At Mr. Kraft’s office, the door was closed, but not locked. Stump flicked the switch, causing Mr. Kraft to lift his head from the desk. “Sorry I woke you, Mr. Kraft. Are you ready for me?”

  Mr. Kraft yawned. “You’ll find a five-gallon bucket of yellow paint and some supplies next door, in the maintenance room. Take it all to the back of the parking lot. I’ll meet you out there in ten minutes, after I slap some water on my face.”

  Minutes later, Stump had changed into his painting clothes and dragged out the items Mr. Kraft mentioned, which included some traffic cones and a couple eight-foot two-by-sixes that were joined on the end by a strong hinge. He shoved a half-sized roller pad on an extension handle and pried open the bucket. The golden reflection of the paint reminded him of the sun.

  “I could’ve hired professionals with a sprayer for this job,” Mr. Kraft said a few minutes later, “but I don’t like the idea of paint particles drifting in the breeze. This is the old-fashioned way. First, you’ll block off about twenty parking spaces with the cones; then, unfold the long boards so they form one long straightedge for the roller. That’ll be sixteen feet.”

  So that’s what the hinged two-by-sixes were for. Stump did as instructed and scooted the long wooden straightedge next to one of the old faded lines.

  “That’s the idea,” Mr. Kraft said, while hanging a heavy-duty screen that was about the size of a small computer monitor inside the bucket. “All you gotta do is dip the roller in the bucket, wipe the excess paint off by using the screen, then use the boards as a guide.”

  “What about a drop cloth?” Stump asked recalling his earlier work on the pool fence.

  “Takes too long to keep moving it around. Just be careful and don’t let the roller get sloppy.”

  Stump dipped the pad just enough to wet the edge of the pad and rolled it up and down the screen until it seemed wet but not drippy. He carefully butted the edge of the pad up against the wooden straightedge and slowly glided the pad forward.

  “That’s the idea,” Kraft said as a fresh new line was born. “You’ll get better and faster. Just be careful when you move the boards to the next spot. They’ll have paint on the bottom so don’t drag them anywhere ’cause they’ll smear the stuff all over the place. About every three or four lines you’ll need to wipe off the boards. That’s all there is to it.”

  It all made sense. “I’ll be careful.”

  “Good. I gotta get home now and get some rest. Just remember that I’d rather you take a little longer and think about what you’re doing than rush through the job and make a big mess that we have to live with forever. You can finish tomorrow if you need to. I’ll see you then.”

  The more Stump got to know Mr. Kraft, the more he liked the man. Mr. Kraft was one of the few people who had faith in Stump. Pleased, Stump moved the traffic cones to the back of the lot where it would be easier to watch for Francisca while he worked.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  After Mr. Kraft left, Stump made a game out of painting the lines perfectly and quickly. He’d knocked out nearly a third of them and was humming along with the momentum of a racehorse when a passenger van pulled up near building one, the doors burst open and a priest and two nuns emerged. Curious, Stump watched as the nuns hurried around the front corner of the building toward the entrance while the priest walked briskly toward the courtyard. Almost instantly the nuns came quickly back with Francisca between them. “Father, we’ve got her,” one of them said.

  Before Stump could gather his wits, they all hurried to their vehicle and drove away. Stump eyed the courtyard, but nobody else was outside to see what happened. Stunned, he rested the roller on the paint bucket and scratched his neck. It was like a high-speed grand kidnapping from God, and Francisca was the chosen one. Based on the swiftness and furtive getaway, Stump was pretty certain Francisca wasn’t coming back.

  He considered looking for Juanita, but he didn’t want to admit that a priest and two nuns just stole the one person they both desperately wanted to talk to. Juanita wasn’t the only one he was worried about. Maria wouldn’t be very happy if she knew he’d let a potential ally slip away. Exasperated, he elected to keep his mouth shut, at least for a while.

  The final half-hour flew by. In addition to his curiosity about the divine departure of Francisca, he tried to rehearse what he planned to say at the meeting later that evening, but mostly, he thought about what he wanted to say to Maria.

  Finally, just before quitting time, Maria entered the courtyard and motioned that she was going behind Kraft’s building, presumably to get to the office without Dixon seeing what was going on. Stump nodded and gathered supplies like he would ordinarily do, and put everything away before he let them both in Mr. Kraft’s office and locked the door.

  Inside, one more look at her legs and he knew what he wanted to do. “You can’t imagine how much you mean to me,” he said as he pulled her to him. Their arms encircled each other and the hug quickly progressed to a kiss, then passionate, wet tongues danced like lazy waves between their lips and Stump’s heart throbbed in a way it had never felt before.

  He nudged Maria onto Kraft’s couch and kissed her and closed his eyes. She returned his affection as gentle moans of approval accompanied their hands as they each explored the other’s body for the first time. When Maria’s hand found its way to the front of Stump’s shorts, an unexpected chill washed across the hair on his neck. The moment was right. He pulled back slightly and whispered, “Can we make love? I have a condom.”

  “Um-hmm.”

  They peeled off their clothes and Stump admired her nakedness. His heart pounded like a field of bombs as he and Maria progressed to the ultimate act, which was totally wonderful, not just physically but also psychologically.

  It ended quicker than he would have liked, but when it was over, they lay naked, wrapped in each other’s arms, and Stump knew it was a moment he’d never forget. He felt warmth throughout his body, and a genuine love for Maria. He removed the condom, then kissed her and held her and cherished the special moment. “You were my first,” he said, softly.

  Maria smiled. “You don’t think I’m a bad girl, do you?”

  “Of course not. We have real feelings for each other.”

  “Do you love me?”

  “Yeah. I think I do.”

  “Me too.” She kissed him before she brought him back to reality, “I hate to say it, but I think your meeting is pretty soon.”

  He’d have to hurry to get there on time. “I’d rather stay right here for a little while. They won’t care if I’m just a little late.”

  Maria sat up. “Don’t be silly. You’ve been looking forward to this for a long time.” She put on her bra. “Your mom would want you to get to that meeting on time.”

  Stump blew out a deep breath. “Okay. I guess you’re right.” He bent over to get his shorts just as a key waggled in the doorknob. Both he and Maria grabbed for their clothes and stood up just as Dixon barged in.

  Dixon’s eyes shot back and forth, and then to the used condom between Stump’s feet. If they were anyplace else Stump could shove the asshole out of there but Kraft’s office was neutral territory at best. At worse, Dixon had more right to be there than Stump did.

  “Both of you put your damn clothes on,” Dixon snapped. He pointed at Maria. “I’m ashamed of you.”

  “Oh, yeah,” Maria scoffed as she turned around and pulled her panties into place. “Whatever I do is none of your business.”

  Dixon grabbed her upper arm. “The hell it isn’t.”

  By that time, Stump had put his shorts on. “Hey, let go of her,” he said, reaching for Dixon’s hand.

  Dixon spun Maria back far enough to avoid Stump’s reach. “You’d better watch it, kid. We both know you don’t belong in here.” Dixon turned to Maria. “Now, you get dressed. I’ll be deali
ng with you when I’m done here.”

  “Just don’t hurt her, okay?”

  Dixon shot his finger to within inches of Stump’s nose. “You know something, rich boy? You’re no better than a goddam alley cat. Now get the hell off of my property before I call the cops.”

  Stump reached for his shoes. “This ain’t your property.”

  Still holding Maria’s arm, Dixon escorted them both out of the building. “Stop squeezing me, you jerk-wad,” Maria yelped just before she yanked free and ran for her apartment.

  “I’ll be right behind you,” Dixon shouted before turning to Stump and repeating the finger-wag exercise. “As for you, all I want to see is ass and elbows. Get on that worthless bicycle of yours and get the hell out of my sight.”

  Partly ashamed, partly pissed off and almost late for his meeting, Stump hurried over to the bike rack, but as he drew closer, Ol’ Ug’ didn’t look right. Then he saw the flat tires. “Damn you, Dixon,” he screeched while spinning around. But Dixon was already gone.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Across town, Bernice Bickle, the City Stenographer, was in charge of setting up the City Council’s meeting room. She arrived fifteen minutes early, unlocked the large double doors, flicked on the lights and laid out a stack of printed agendas.

  Mrs. Crumpler, the City Planner, joined Bernice. “There are quite a few people gathering outside already,” she said.

  “It ought to be interesting.” Bernice handed Mrs. Crumpler a dozen packets of papers that she’d gotten from attorney Danielle Delgado. “Would you mind placing one of these at the seat of each official?”

  Crumpler nodded, took the papers. “I understand that Neal went door-to-door and drummed up some interest in his safety cause.”

  “Probably a good idea,” Bickle said. “The more people, the better his chances.”