CHAPTER THREE
They all wait for me to explain. I have their complete attention, so of course I freeze up. My theory makes sense considering everything I've seen tonight, but it still sounds crazy.
"Okay Smiley," Gus says. "Let's hear it."
I take a deep breath, let it out slowly. "It's not just that adults are killing kids. Adults -- parents -- are killing their own kids. Just their own."
Jobie and Madison exchange puzzled looks. So do Taylor and Lynda.
"How do you know?" Gus asks.
"Because my dad tried to kill my older brother this afternoon. And because outside I saw a man try to kill his daughter with a tire iron." I point at June's corpse. "And then I ran into this poor kid's mom. Even though she was armed with a knife she didn't attack me. All she did was ask me where June -- where she -- was. When I said I didn't know she still didn't attack. She just let me and my brother and sister run off. You see?"
"Wait a minute," Gus says. "Hold on a second. I'm a parent, but I don't want to kill my daughter. How do you explain that?"
"You're an older parent. Your daughter isn't a kid anymore."
"So?"
"But your granddaughter -- the one you heard screaming over the phone -- is. If I'm right, parents are killing their teen and preteen kids, but not their adult kids. And that's why your granddaughter was screaming -- because your daughter was trying to kill her.
"Jesus."
Another emergency vehicle siren pierces the night, followed by the sound of brakes and a car crash.
"I know you're worried about your family, but we need you here to protect us," Taylor tells Gus.
"Maybe not," I say. "If I'm right about all this being parental violence, all we have to do to survive is avoid Mom and Dad." I turn to Jobie and Madison. "And the same goes for you two. If you just stay away from your parents until all this is over, you'll be fine."
"And exactly when will all this be over?" Jobie asks sarcastically.
"How should I know? But it has to end sometime."
Gus hurries over to the barred window next to the door and peers out at the street. From somewhere out there comes the distant sound of a child -- a boy, judging by the voice -- shouting. Gus goes over to his desk, yanks his jacket off the back of his swivel chair, and puts it on. Then he reaches under his desk and grabs the baseball bat he keeps there for protection.
"Are you leaving us?" Lynda asks anxiously.
"No, I'm just gonna look around a bit." He returns to the door. "Come here Jobie."
Jobie rushes over to him.
"Lock the door behind me. I'll knock four times when I want to come back in."
"Don't go!" Lynda cries.
"I'll be right back for Christ's sake! I just want to see what's going on."
"Gus wouldn't lie," I assure Lynda. "If he says he's coming back, he's coming back."
"Ready?" Gus asks.
Jobie nods. Gus pushes back the deadbolt, opens the door, and steps outside. Jobie slams the door shut behind him and locks it. A few seconds later I hear Gus shout something but I can't make out what it is.
"What did he say?" I ask Jobie.
"Sounded like 'Get away from her!'"
Again I hear Gus shout, only this time his voice is much fainter, as if he's moved down the block.
"He's gonna leave us," Lynda whispers.
Despite the seriousness of our situation, and the fact that she's just a little kid, I'm really starting to lose patience with her. "I told you he wouldn't. Now shut up."
"Don't tell her to shut up!" Taylor snaps, reverting suddenly to his former disrespectful self.
"You shut up too."
After a minute or two Gus pounds on the door four times. Jobie unlocks it and lets him in. We all rush him.
"What did you see?" Madison asks as Jobie shuts the door and relocks it. "What's going on out there?"
Gus walks slowly back to his desk. He lays his bat across it and sits down. "Across the street this little boy was lying on the sidewalk. There was blood all over his face. This man was standing over him holding a skateboard -- holding it at one end with both hands like a club. There was blood on it. I shouted at him and he ran off. Then I went back to check on the kid. He was dead."
"Did the boy and the man resemble each other, like a father and son?" I ask.
"They were both blonde."
So I'm right.
"See? That man with the skateboard didn't try to kill you, just his kid. If this was an epidemic of insanity, with everyone trying to kill everyone, he would have tried to kill you too."
Nobody talks for a moment. The only sound comes from Lynda. She's sobbing again.
"Come to think of it," Gus says finally, "right before you showed up, Paulie took off. Said he had to get home right away, that it was real important. He looked stressed out, so I let him go. He has a son, a boy about seven years old."
Paulie is Gus's assistant on Fridays and weekends. He's a short but very muscular man in his thirties. To be honest, I've never liked him very much. He has a very abrasive manner. I've always gotten the impression from him that he doesn't like kids -- a weird attitude for a youth center worker to have.
"I hope his son has a good hiding place at home," I say grimly. "Otherwise -- "
"Okay. Let's say you're right," Jobie interrupts. "Why's this happening? You said you knew both what was happening and why. Let's hear the why."
I shouldn't have said anything about the why. That's the craziest part of my theory. But to me it makes sense.
"I think all human beings are born with a built in biological failsafe. When there are too many of them doing too many shitty things to the environment, this is what happens. Parents kill their kids to decrease the population, to thin the herd so that the earth survives."
"Bullshit," Jobie scoffs.
Madison doesn't buy it either. "You can say that again."
I refuse to waste time arguing with them. We have to think up a survival strategy.
"What's your parent situation?" I ask Madison.
"My parent situation?"
"Yeah. Where are they right now and how capable are they of killing you?"
Madison looks at me like I've totally lost it. "My dad's visiting my grandmother in Canada. My mom's home but she's in a wheelchair."
"A wheelchair? Great. I mean, she's not able to hurt you. And since your dad's out of town he can't hurt you either." I turn to Jobie. I pretty much know his situation, but despite his absentee dad and alcoholic mom, it's not nearly as safe a situation as Madison's. A deranged alcoholic woman can be very dangerous. As for his dad, since no one knows where he lives it's not impossible that he lives nearby. He could very well be on his way to Jobie's apartment right now to kill him. And if Jobie's mom is still sober enough to give up his location . . .
"Does your mom know you're here?"
"Yeah, she knows. That is, if she's still aware of anything."
I hope my next question doesn't piss him off. "Is there any chance that your dad might show up here and -- ?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"I said no."
"Okay. Good."
"We're the ones who should worry," Taylor says. "Unless Marky managed to overpower both Dad and Mom, and tie them up."
Gus tries his ex again and this time gets lucky. "Maya! Thank God!" he cries, jumping to his feet. "Is everything okay? Why was Ruby screaming?"
We all listen in.
"Oh my God." Gus sits down again, looking slightly relieved. "You sure you're both okay?" Pause. "No, don't call for an ambulance. If you do, the Nine-One-One dispatcher will send the cops too, and they might decide to give Ruby to Child Services." Pause. "I don't think Jolene's hurt, just knocked out. Just leave her tied up. Maybe she'll be herself when she wakes up." Pause. "I have no idea. There are some kids here with me at the center. One of them thinks . . . well, never mind
what she thinks. It's crazy."
His diss of my theory annoys me, but I keep my mouth shut.
"Just stay put until I get there. I'll be there as soon as I can. I just have to figure out what to do with these kids. In the meantime don't let anyone in the house. Don't even go to the door if the doorbell rings. Call me if there's any more trouble." Pause. "Okay. Bye."
Gus reclips his phone to his waistband. His gaze drifts towards the couch where the late June is stretched out.
"So what happened?" I ask.
"You were right. My daughter attacked my granddaughter. Tried to stab her with a knife, just like that one's mother did. Would have succeeded too, if she hadn't tripped over one of Ruby's toys. Maya, my ex, punched her in the head and knocked her out. Tied her up."
"It's a good thing your granddaughter leaves her toys lying around, otherwise you'd have had another death to deal with."
"Jesus," Taylor says. "Maybe you're right. Maybe it is parents killing kids."
"So what's the plan?" Jobie asks. "What are we gonna do?"
"That depends on you kids," Gus answers.
"What do you mean?" I ask cautiously.
"On whether you're willing to come with me to my ex's place and wait this out with me and mine. If you're not you're gonna have to figure out a way to survive on your own. Either way I'm gonna take care of my family."
"You should stay here," Lynda insists. "It's safe here. If you leave you might not even make it to your ex's place."
"If we go with you how will we get there?" I ask. “You told me you don’t own a car.”
Gus steps out from behind his desk. "We’ll use the van in the lot out back. There's more than enough room in it for all of us."
"That beat up piece of junk with the graffiti all over it?" Jobie asks, incredulous. "That thing actually works?"
"Yeah it works. It's always worked. That's my escape vehicle."
"Escape vehicle? You mean you were expecting something like this?" Madison asks.
"No. I was expecting something like just driving off on my own one day and spending the rest of my life in solitude."
I run my hands through my hair and consider our two choices. "Well, if we go with you we won't have to worry about our parents, since they'll have no idea where we are. And we'll have two people to protect us -- you and your ex. And food. That is, if your ex doesn't mind sharing."
"She won't." Gus says.
"Then again, if I'm wrong about it just being parents killing their kids, and we get attacked by a mob on the way there, we'll all be slaughtered."
"Only if I brake for the mob," Gus says. "And I won't."
"On the other hand, if we stay here by ourselves, with the door locked and maybe the lights out so that it looks like no one's here, we'll be relatively safe, even if our parents do show up. We just don't have any food."
"I'm not hungry anyway," Lynda says. "Don't tell me you are."
"No, but we'll both be hungry if we have to stay here a few days."
"If we stay here we'll have to stay with her." Taylor jerks his thumb towards June's corpse.
"That settles it," Madison says. "I'm not spending days with a corpse."
A third alternative occurs to me. I can ask Gus to drop me and my siblings off at my uncle's place. He doesn't live far from here. I can even try to call him on my cell first. But what if uncles are the next ones to go crazy?
"Okay, we'll go with you," I tell Gus finally.
"Hold it. Who made you boss?" Jobie asks angrily, suddenly offended that I've done all the thinking and decision making. "I'll decide for myself."
"Go ahead. Decide for yourself." I tilt my head towards Taylor and Lynda. "But I'm definitely boss over these two. If you want to stay here alone with June over there, fine. But the rest of us are leaving."
"I'm leaving too. I just like to speak for myself."
"Fine." I turn back to Gus. "You sure your ex won't mind having us as guests?"
"She won't. She wouldn't want me to leave you kids here alone."
"What about the deceased?"
Gus glances over at June. "She'll just have to stay here until I finish taking care of my own."
"I still think we should stay here," Lynda pleads. "All of us. Together."
"We'll be better off with Gus," I insist.
Suddenly there's a loud bang against the door, as if somebody kicked it. Then a man's deep booming voice calls out. "Tommy! Tommy I know you're in there!"
We all turn to Gus, who raises a finger to his lips.
The man kicks the door again. "Tommy open up!"
"That must be Tommy Jindall's dad," Madison whispers. I've never heard of a Tommy Jindall but I assume he's one of the older male teens who hang out here at the center -- one of the good looking ones that Madison likes to flirt with.
"Open this door you little shit!" Another kick.
"You see? He's only looking for that one person!" I say. "Tommy -- his son."
"What are we gonna do about him?" Jobie asks.
"Screw him," Gus responds, and yet he walks over to the door and addresses the enraged man on the other side. "There's no Tommy here! Get lost!"
"I know he's in there!"
"You don't know jack, fool! I told you he's not here! If you want him so bad go look for him somewhere else!"
"One way or another I'm coming in, so you may as well open up!"
"One way or another you can kiss my ass!"
More kicking.
"Shit!" Madison says. "What if the parents of all the kids who hang out here decide to storm this place? Then what?"
"As long as they stay out front and not out back where the van is, we'll be fine," Gus says.
"Maybe we should just let him come in and look around," Taylor suggests. "If Caril's right, he'll leave once he sees that Tommy isn't here."
"No, let's keep the door locked," I say.
Gus goes back to his desk and takes a set of keys out of the top middle drawer. "You kids wait here. I just want to see if anyone's hanging around out back." He starts for the back door.
"Shouldn't you take your baseball bat?" Madison asks.
"The rear fence is chained and locked. No one can get in unless I open it. I'll be back in a minute. Don't say anything to that nut."
Gus enters the storage room. A few seconds later I hear him pull back the rear door's heavy deadbolt. Outside the nut continues to kick the door and shout for Tommy.
"I'm glad we're leaving," I tell the others. "Anything's better than listening to that."
As soon as the words are out of my mouth another voice joins the nut's -- a familiar voice that shouts my siblings' names and fills me with so much anxiety that I actually feel nauseous.
"Taylor! Lynda! I know you're in there. Get out here! Now!"
Dad's voice.