“Jeez, Ranaé, slow down. You wanna get us killed? Wake the neighborhood? Wreck your car? Run over that garbage … “ A thump told him that he was probably too late on all counts.
She finally braked to a stop at the end of the alley, slumped over the wheel, sobbing. Justin opened his door, pulled hers open, and reached awkwardly behind the steering wheel to pull the gearshift into park. He noticed that his hand was shaking.
“Slide over, Ranaé. I’ll take it from here.
She beat her hands on the steering wheel and turned to face him, her face wet and contorted. “I’m so-o-o sorry, Justin. I didn’t know. I just thought … “ A light went on in the yard next to them.
“Okay, okay. Move over. We’ll talk on the way.”
She finally released the steering wheel and moved across the seat to lean against the passenger door, sobbing gently.
Justin glanced across the yard. No one in it, but he thought he saw a face at the window. He flipped on the headlights and turned left so anyone in the house wouldn’t be able to get a look at the rear license plate and eased the car down the street. He turned left at the next corner, right at the following, and zigzagged through several streets and an alley until he emerged at a major cross street. If Tony managed to pick himself up out of the alley, get his junker started, and came after them, with or without his partners in crime, Justin didn’t really feel like taking him on, especially in someone else’s four-cylinder rice burner. And maybe it would be a good idea if they didn’t head directly back home, either, as even Tony might figure out how to cut them off on the highway back to Niotaka.
“Well, so much for that love affair. Hey, you gonna feel like eating something in a few minutes?” He turned to Ranaé, and his hand felt the candy bar on the seat. He opened the window and threw it out and in almost the same motion reached into his coat pocket to pull the remaining candy bar out to follow the first one. “And I don’t mean hot chocolate, either!”
Ranaé seemed to choke, but Justin realized that she was trying to giggle.
“You so funny, Justin.”
“You so funny driver, girl.”
She sat up and blew her nose. “I guess that ugly white boy’s face in the window inspired me. I don’t think I’ve ever peeled out before. My dad would kill me! Justin … the trash can … !”
“Relax, I think you only tapped it. It was one of those plastic jobs, anyway.” He replayed the scene in his mind, a vision of a flying lid and a careening can coming back to him, and he shrugged his shoulders. “If it left a mark, I can rub it out with a little polishing compound.”
“Oh, Justin, I’ve been a big idiot. I just couldn’t … didn’t know how … “ She chewed on her thumbnail.
“Don’t worry about it. Look, here’s a Sonic. You ready for a cheeseburger?”
“Fine with me. And tater tots, and a strawberry shake. But no hot chocolate.”
They looked at each other and laughed.
* * *
Justin decided that hiding the car in plain sight was the best thing to do for a few hours, and he found a mall that included a movie house and spotted an open parking spot in the center of the lot, surrounded by cars that didn’t look much different than the one they were in. They wandered around the mall until just before closing, and Justin found out more about Ranaé and T. J. than he really wanted to know.
Justin wasn’t so sure his plan to wait before driving back to Niotaka was such a good one, even though a 20-year-old rust bucket wasn’t a good candidate as a chase car, and he waited in a carwash driveway just past a stoplight until a pair of semis came along and managed to pull between them. At a comfortable 60 miles an hour, he didn’t see anything that looked like Tony’s car, and he decided that even if Tony saw them he might not even be able to pick them out. Plus, Ranaé’s head nestling on his shoulder as she drifted off into sleep gave him a comfortable feeling that things would work out, after all.
He nudged her as they pulled into the edge of Niotaka, and by the time they pulled into his driveway behind his car, she was wide-awake.
“You gonna be all right?” He flipped off the headlights.
“I’m fine. And don’t worry; I don’t think T. J. even made it out of Pittsburg. He’s got a place to stay at his fine cuz’s place when he needs it. He’ll show up Monday at school as if nothing happened.” She pulled a gold chain over her head. “‘Course when he finds this on his front doorknob, he’ll get my message loud and clear.”
Justin nodded. “You don’t mess around when you make up your mind, do you?”
She slid across the seat, reached across him to open the door, and nudged him out. “You got that right!”
Justin slowly stretched to his full height and looked at his house. No lights on.
“Justin …” Ranaé reached out and took his hand, and suddenly grabbed his collar, pulled his head down, and brushed her lips across his cheek. “Listen … thanks for an … interesting evening. And thanks for everything else, too.”
“All right. See ya Monday.” He squeezed her hand. She pulled the door shut, and he watched her drive away until her taillights winked around the corner.
The house was quiet and dark, except for the night light in the living room. He pushed his bedroom door open but stopped when he saw a light come on from under Sharice’s door, which opened a crack. “Justin, you wanna talk for a minute?”
He sighed. “All right, Shar.” He pulled off his jacket and tossed it into his room and walked down the hallway to her room. Her portable stereo was still on, low, and he realized that she had waited for him to arrive home and might have waited for hours more. She was back in her bed, sitting up with the covers partly way pulled up around her.
“Justin, you know how you told me to watch my back?”
“I tell you that all the time, Shar.”
“No, I mean about Sammy.”
“Yeah, sure.”
“Well … he showed up at the front door before I got off from babysitting this evening. Said he’d walk me home, protect me, all that junk. No problem, right?”
Justin chuckled. “Seems like I’ve heard that line before. Go on.”
“I bet. Well, he’s cute and stuff, but as soon as we got in a dark spot between streetlights he put his arm around me. I kinda liked that. Then he blew in my ear. I’m not sure I liked that, though. It tickled too much. Then he … grabbed me and said he wanted me and that I was going to be his girl.” Justin watched a tear trickle down her cheek. “Justin, I didn’t say anything at all to Mom about all this because I knew she wouldn’t let me go out after dark ever again if she knew … “
She pulled a tissue out of a box next to her bed and rubbed her cheek. “Well, anyways, he grabbed me in the wrong place, and I’m not going to tell you where. I KNOW I didn’t like that. And … I’m not sure what happened after that, but my elbow is still sore, and he was still doubled up on the ground when I walked off, and I kinda remember kicking him in the … well, you know.”
Another tear rolled down her cheek. “Justin, is it still wrong to hurt someone when he does stuff like that to you? I know you and Mom told me to lay off the rough stuff, but … “
Justin’s mouth had dropped open, but he managed to close it before she had a chance to compare him to a fish one more time.
“Look, Shar; let’s put it this way. Any time you can’t defend yourself like you did tonight, in that kind of a situation, you come and get me and I’ll kick his butt for you. Any age, any time. All right?
“So it’s all right?”
“Long as it’s not just words, or another girl goin’ yada-yada at you, fine. If ’no’ doesn’t work, just remember that actions speak louder than words. And don’t forget those long legs of yours can get you out of trouble quick as anything, if need be.”
Shar nodded and slid under the sheets. “All right, Justin. And don’t say anything to Mom about it, okay?”
“Fine.”
“And aren’t you home a little early? I thoug
ht you wouldn’t be home until around midnight or later.”
“Listen, Shar, I had a long evening tonight. I don’t care what the clock says, because it was too long. And let’s just say that if you and Sammy-boy aren’t an item, me and LaToya had sort of a meaningful experience, too, and I don’t wanna hear that name in my ear again. T. J.’s or Tony’s either. Maybe Ranaé’s. But that’s it.”
“All right, Justin!” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, and her eyelids fluttered. “Tuck me in?”
“Sure thing, little girl.” Justin arranged the covers and pulled the bedspread up halfway. “That okay?”
Her regular breathing answered. He looked at her still form for a long moment and then switched off the light.
* * *
Breakfast next morning was a quiet affair for once. Justin was still yawning in spite of an unusual second cup of coffee, and Sharice took her bowl of Fruit Loops to the living room and watched cartoons. Their mother gave both of them a sharp look but said nothing.
Justin finished his breakfast and dumped the remains of his coffee down the sink, rinsed his cup, and stretched. “I’m going to the Quick-Shop to get some gas in my car, Mom, okay? I think I need a little fresh air, anyway.”
“Oh, can I ride with you, Justin?” Sharice’s head swiveled around.
Before he could answer in the negative, his mother reached into the blue cookie jar on the counter and took out a couple of bills.
“Good idea, and why don’t you get a half-gallon of milk for me while Justin’s getting gas, okay?”
“Can do. Wait until I get my coat.”
The ride was silent until Sharice finally couldn’t stand it any longer. “I guess you’re still thinking about your hot date last night with LaToya, huh?” She retreated against the passenger door so that Justin could barely poke her in the ribs without jerking the steering wheel.
“Cool it, brat. Don’t forget YOUR hot date with Sammy-boy last night. And I told you not to mention that name again.”
Justin thought about describing exactly what he’d do if he caught Sammy alone somewhere in the dark, but the Quick-Shop loomed before him, and instead he shook his head and pulled in next to a gasoline pump. “Don’t take all day getting the milk, okay?”
“Whatever.” And she disappeared into the store.
Jason watched the pump counter and stopped it exactly on $10.00. No lawns to mow, no odd jobs, meant no money except for what he could talk his mother out of, and what he had left was going fast, even though she was helping out on the car payments now. And he wanted to leave at least a ten in his pocket for future reference, although a twenty or more would be much better.
He walked into the store and up to the counter, holding the bill. No one was at the counter. And where was Sharice? He looked at the register and recalled the numbers that the clerk had used before.
He shook his head slightly to clear his head. No, that was part of the past, too. He laid the ten on the counter just as the teenaged clerk rounded the corner, with Sharice following him, a half-gallon of milk clutched in her hand.
“Oh, sorry. I had to get some more milk out of the cooler in back. That going to do it for you two?” He swept up the money and punched in the code, only two digits away from the one Justin had memorized, and the drawer jumped open.
“Sure glad you’ve got the exact change; about all I have is ones and fives for awhile. Manager had to go out to get some change.” He accepted Sharice’s money and dropped the change into her hand. “Thanks; have a nice day!”
Justin nodded his head. “You, too.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
The cafeteria seemed noisier than usual, but Justin welcomed the covering noise, as he’d sent a note to Buck, inviting him to meet there to talk. The pizza roll was unusually chewy today, and after a second attempt to gnaw off a corner of it failed, he tossed it onto his tray. Buck followed suit and leaned closer to Justin across the table.
“Okay, Justin, so you think that T.J. and that clown that runs the Winner’s Circus might just be responsible for … um … let’s say, unusual activities in Pittsburg? Which might just result in … ah … private sales here in Niotaka?”
“Not only in town, but here and there around the school building, bro. There’s a certain bathroom on the way to the gym that could tell Real Life Crime stories if the fixtures could talk. Either that, or Bozo has the weakest kidneys of any dude I’ve ever known.”
“Hm. You sure he’s not just a heavy drinker?”
“Try snorter. Or inhaler. Or whatever. I have no clue; that wasn’t my scene when I was …” Justin fell silent. No, drugs weren’t ever his thing back in Topeka. And neither was petty theft; it just wasn't worth it for the proceeds, but when someone you were trying to impress gave you specific orders for which store to case and stand sentry for someone else while they …
Justin’s eyes came back into focus. He realized that Buck was staring at him.
“Never mind. Another place, another life. Another lifestyle.”
Buck leaned back. “None of my business, Stretch. What counts is what you do, not what you were. Listen, I think it’s time you talked to my dad. No, don’t look at me like that. You might just be surprised at how he deals with problems. Hey, he’s had to deal with me during my difficult formative teen-age years, you know; I taught him well.”
Justin shook his head slowly, but he dropped his milk carton onto his tray and followed Buck to the tray conveyor belt.
* * *
“Justin, I appreciate your sense of duty, although if I know my own son very well, I’d also want you to get your arm checked for damage. I can imagine that he probably did a little twisting to get you over here.” The superintendent leaned back in his swivel chair with a wry smile.
“Well … maybe a little.” Justin rubbed his right arm and pretended to wince. “I’m just getting a little tired of what’s been going on around me, and Buck … well … he’s been pretty free with the advice lately, let’s just say.”
“I bet.” The superintendent sat forward and laid both his palms on his desk. “But, gentlemen, I think it’s time that both of you knew a little more of what we school officials are hired to do around here. Buck, Justin, everything I'm going to tell you next is confidential. Understand?”
They both nodded.
“That means no stories to be told, Justin.” Buck looked at Justin.
"My lips are …" He drew an imaginary zipper across his mouth.
“All right. I imagine you can figure out that people who work in schools don’t make a whole lot of money, right?”
“Yeah, Pop … otherwise I wouldn't be driving a truck that looked like a moving junk pile, huh?”
His father looked at him for a long moment. “You sure you’re getting enough exercise, young man? Maybe some walking would do you some good.”
Buck spread both palms in surrender, and the superintendent turned to Justin.
“What I meant was that sometimes we have to hire who’s available, even though we know that there’s someone out there somewhere who could do a better job, and pay them what we can with what we have in the budget. Now … the study hall supervisor, for example. If we hadn’t been able to find him to take over the study hall, either the principal or I would have had to sit in there myself, or we would have had to close it down. We needed someone with at least substitute credentials, and he qualified. But you've just confirmed what we suspected, Justin. It seems that he has other interests than educational, unless you can call drug running educational. I thought we had a good candidate; he has an associate’s degree and supposedly was working on a bachelor’s at night at Pittsburg State. At least that’s what his credentials stated, but I just had a private background check done on him this afternoon … you’re not the only person to let me know about the problem, Justin; your principal had his doubts, too … and after what I discovered, I believe you’ll find that after today someone else will be sitting in the library after school. Sometime
s college credentials don't tell the whole story.”
“Who’s going to be there, Pop?”
“Can't say for sure, son, but I'm going to contact Jace Watkins. He wasn’t officially hired to be a Rule 10 coach until the first of next month, but we did a pretty thorough check on him in LA, and his papers are all in good order. And his part-time job at the candy factory is in the morning and doesn't conflict with any afternoon activities.”
Justin tried not to let the surprise show in his face, but the superintendent looked at him and smiled. “Justin, we know all about your little … ah … disagreements with T. J., but think a second. Why would an older brother leave LA with his son and show up in a small town where his younger brother is?”
Justin had visions of a certain spiky-leaved plant in his mind, but he shook his head. “I don’t really know, sir. I thought he just needed a job.”
“Well, yes, but his mother was the one who contacted us first to let us know that her son was qualified to coach, and that was even before Coach Greene resigned.” He leaned back in his chair and made a steeple out of his hands and looked at Justin. "We just happened to receive his formal application ten days or so before Coach Greene gave notice, and that and his mother's request got him not only a part-time job with the school district but a chance to keep an eye on his younger brother. Luckily a part-time job at the candy factory opened up at the same time, too."
Justin tried not to grimace and let on what he thought of part-time jobs opening up at the candy factory.
The superintendent leaned forward again. “Justin, do you think you’re anything like your father?”
Justin’s mouth opened and closed. He suddenly felt as if the superintendent had reached inside his body and snatched a vital organ out of it.
“We don’t think you do, Justin. Yes, we’re well aware of what you went through, what you did, the problems you had last year. And where your father is right now. You think that school officials don’t know how to use the phone?”
“Um …” He looked at Buck, who opened his eyes a little wider.
“Now, my son doesn’t know about your problems in the past. We talk, but he knows that confidential information stays in this office. And guess what … unless he wants to talk about his problems with you, YOU don’t know HIS, either. And I don't think you two are going to have a sharing session, soon. Now, I’m not trying to give either of you the old ‘Boys-will-be-boys’ treatment, either. Buck and I have had a few conversations about what it’s like to have to live in a town where gangs try to control your life, and maybe you and he have had some of the same chats, but I would hope that you would continue to try to make something of yourself, young man. We have been hoping that possibly you would be a good influence on T. J., too. That’s the main reason Jace Watkins is here. He wants to see his little brother head in the right direction, and his mother can’t seem to pull that trick off, and he’s going to have his hands full, because he’s not only going to have to be a big brother but a surrogate father, because their father is dead. Gang wars in LA don’t leave many prisoners on the battlefield.”