Crusader (38 page)

After she ushered the Lourdes group out of the building, Mrs. Knight came back and told me, "I'm meeting Mr. Herman down at Angela's dressing room. He's getting a makeover for his second audition."

"Oh yeah? What are they going to do?"

"Make him less shiny." Mrs. Knight winked at me. "I think that means he's going to grow some hair."

I knew Mrs. Knight hadn't come back just to chat with me. She quickly got to the point. "Roberta, I was thinking about your arcade at the West End Mall. Isn't that where those hate crimes happened?"

"Yes."

"Have they solved those?"

I thought about Uncle Frank's face in the dark mallway, but I answered, "No."

"Because I was thinking, maybe some of the kids there got too excited about the arcade games and crossed the line. You know—from virtual reality into reality? Is that possible?"

"I guess anything's possible."

"Do you have a lot of really freaky-looking kids there?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. I think there's a show in there somewhere. What do you think?"

"I don't know, Mrs. Knight."

"It could be good experience for you, too. You could prepare the guests with me."

"What's that?"

"Train them to answer clearly, to stay focused on the topic, to look at Angela. That sort of thing."

Mrs. Knight thumbed through her wallet. "Here, let me give you my card. It has my home and work numbers. You think about what I said, okay?"

Mrs. Knight took off, leaving me alone at the video dubbing board. I remained standing there for several minutes, thinking hard, because another idea was forming in my head. A plan. A plan that soon made me gasp out loud. A plan as simple and as stupid as my internship at Channel 57.1 put Mrs. Knight's card in my wallet and left.

I got a burrito and a Coke from the Taco Stop and sat at a sticky table in the food court. After a couple of bites, Betty walked up with a smoothie and sat down. I figured that was a good sign, a sign of truce.

I asked her, "Are you at Candlewycke today?"

"Yeah. Have you heard of anything else?"

"No."

"Me neither. I heard Gepetto's is gonna close."

"Really? When did you hear that?"

"When I went in there for a job."

"Oh." I wondered if they were just trying to get rid of her. I told her, "I saw Nina today at the TV studio."

Betty took a swig of her smoothie. "She is one weird chick."

"How do you mean weird? Weird-looking?"

"No. She's great-looking. Guys follow her all around. She's weird-thinking, weird-acting."

"Like what? What does she do?"

Betty looked around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. "For one thing, she shoplifts. Did you know that?"

I played dumb. "No."

"Yeah. Be careful. Anything she gives you could be hot."

"But she has lots of money."

"I'm sure she does. She has lots of guys, too. But that doesn't stop her."

"God. Do you two hang out a lot?"

"No. She invites me out sometimes. She drives. She pays."

"Why? Why you?"

"I'm not sure. I think I make her feel normal."

We had an exceptionally slow night at Arcane. Kristin and I wound up closing by ourselves. Uncle Frank and Karl just took off. I asked Kristin where they were, and she jumped all over me. "Why shouldn't they take off early for once? They do all the work around here!"

I wasn't about to argue with her, although I do some work, too. We rushed through the closing checklist, then Kristin offered me a ride in the Volkswagen. The car didn't look as bad as before. The back had been hammered out pretty smoothly, though there were some spots with paint missing.

I didn't want to risk another flare-up, so I didn't mention
Uncle Frank or Karl again. Instead I asked her, "How is Ironman?"

She said, "He's okay. He's evolving. We both are."

She didn't elaborate, so I followed up with, "He's not suicidal anymore?"

"Oh no. Not at all. In fact, he told me he never intended to kill himself. He just went into the trash trailer, like always, and sat down." Kristin turned into Sawgrass Estates. "And then he couldn't think of any reason to get back up."

We pulled in under the carport. Kristin added, "I felt the same way three weeks ago. I couldn't think of any reason to leave my room. Of course, my room wasn't twenty-nine degrees Fahrenheit. Have you ever felt that way?"

I told her, "No."

Kristin stared at the dark kitchen window. "Do you want me to walk in with you?"

"What for?"

"In case there's a bad guy in there. I'd kick his butt for you."

I looked at her with real affection. "I know you would. But there's nobody in there."

Kristin stopped smiling. "That's right. There's nobody in there. But there should be."

The ringing telephone woke me up at nine. "Hello. This is Vicki at Sunshine Realty. Is your father there?"

"No, ma'am."

After a delay, she said, "I'm calling because your rent at 10021-lllth Street is now two weeks overdue."

I didn't say anything. She asked me, "How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Can you take a message, then?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Tell him he will have to pay the late fee, which is an additional fifty dollars, and it is due immediately. Thank you." The woman hung up.

Not five minutes later, Dad breezed in through the kitchen door. "Hey, honey. How's it going?"

"Dad, the lady called from the realtor's office. You have to pay a late fee on the rent. Fifty dollars."

"Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it. Hey, listen to this! We have our new apartment, and it's right on the beach. It's really cool. You will love it."

I didn't say anything, so he continued, "It's on the third floor, so it's safe. It's got a big parking lot, so we can park the boat and keep an eye on it from the balcony. Did I tell you it has a balcony?"

"I don't know."

"And remember, we'll be saving money every month. That's money we can spend on other things, like clothes for you. Like a car for you. Would you like that?"

I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess." I pulled out a Pop-Tart and started to eat it untoasted.

Dad didn't see or hear the shrug. "And wait till you see this boat we're getting! Forget the car, you'll be after me to borrow the boat. You can take a boat out by yourself when you're fifteen. Did you know that?"

I asked him, "Why would I want to take a boat out by myself?"

Dad continued talking. Nothing reached him. "Or you can take it out with me. Or with Suzie and me. It's an awesome experience. When you're out there in a boat, a mile out, two miles out, you're in your own world."

"So are you definitely buying a boat?"

"Yeah, we definitely are. We have it all picked out. It's my wedding present to her. And we're gonna name it after her, the
Suzie Q
."

I mashed the rest of the Pop-Tart into my mouth. Still chewing, I asked him, "Where's the money coming from?"

Dad smiled. "It's rent money. It's money that we're now throwing away on two rents." Dad reached over and took my hand. I hated how it felt, but I didn't pull away. "Honey, I know this is tough for you. I will never, ever, forget your mom. I knew your mom better than anyone on this earth. And I can tell you, without a doubt, that this is what she would want. She would want your life to get back to normal. A normal life, with a mother and a father, and a nice place near the beach. Healthy ocean air."

We both heard a knock at the back door. Dad didn't move to answer it, so neither did I. Then we heard Kristin's voice. "Roberta!"

Dad smiled. He got up and opened the door to Kristin and Ironman. "How are you doing?"

Kristin muttered, "Hello," and walked in.

Ironman followed. He didn't say anything, but he looked at Dad. Ever since that night in the trash trailer, Ironman has looked people in the eye.

The two of them sat in the living room with me.

Dad announced, "I'm gonna go in and crash. I'll see you all at work."

Kristin waited for him to leave. Then she started asking Ironman a series of personal hygiene questions. They've been doing this daily. To everyone's astonishment, they've developed quite a relationship in the past week. She asked him, "Did you floss?"

"Yeah."

"Did you brush with the whitening toothpaste and use the plaque rinse?"

"Yeah. Yeah."

Kristin ran her fingertips lightly over the fuzz growing back atop Ironman's head. She said to me, "Shaving his head was the best thing that ever happened to him. All that gross, greasy hair is gone. Now I'm working on his teeth. And his skin."

I noticed that Kristin had a touch of makeup on. She reached into a Marshall's bag and pulled out a red plaid shirt. She said, "Here, Will. Take this into the bathroom and try it on. I think it will look good on you."

Ironman took the shirt and walked dutifully into the bathroom.

I said, "Will?"

Kristin nodded. "Yes. I'm going to call him Will."

"Kristin! It's not like you found a dog. You can't just rename him."

"I'm not renaming him. William is his real name. Will is a diminutive of William. Like Kris is a diminutive of Kristin."

"I see. So what's my diminutive?"

"For Roberta? I don't know. Bobbi?"

"Yikes."

"Don't worry. You're not a Bobbi."

"Thanks."

"But that boy in there is not an Ironman, either. He's a Will."

"Okay. 'Will' it is."

Kristin rummaged in the bag and pulled out an amazing array of beauty products.

I said, "God, Kristin, where did you get all this stuff?"

"Most of it came from Nina. Every time she'd come over, like, for a makeover, she'd bring about a hundred dollars' worth of makeup. And then she'd leave it all."

I thought,
Well, it didn't cost her anything.
But I didn't say it. I said, "Her father just hands her money."

"I know."

"Of course, so does yours."

Kristin looked embarrassed. "That was before."

Will came back wearing the shirt. Kristin reacted, "Wow! I knew you'd look great in that." She handed him a tube of gel. "Here, take this in and rub some on top of your head. You don't want your scalp getting too dry. We need to take care of those baby follicles coming up."

Will again did as he was told. As soon as he was gone, Kristin turned to me. "Oh yes, Roberta ... Will told me something very interesting on the way over here."

I had a funny feeling. A nervous feeling. "Oh? What?"

"He said he was sitting in the guidance office at your school on the day Hawg got arrested."

Now I knew why I was feeling nervous. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. He said you were there, too. Is that right?"

"Right. I was."

"So you can tell me now yourself: Who arrested Hawg?"

"I'm not sure. Technically, I think it was Officer Dwyer."

Kristin focused a laserlike stare at me. "And who else?"

I said quietly, "The Head Louse."

"The Head Louse. Now, isn't that newsworthy? Isn't that the kind of interesting fact that a good reporter would pick up on?"

I admitted, "Yes."

"So why didn't you tell me? What's the big secret?"

"There's no secret." I volunteered, "His real name is Griffin. He's a detective."

"Why didn't you tell me who he was?"

I lied, "I didn't know. I didn't know until Hawg got arrested."

Kristin looked like she might not believe me. In a way I hoped she wouldn't. I was getting away with too many lies. I
was getting too good at them. But she said, "So why didn't you tell me
after
that?"

"Because he made me swear I wouldn't. He said he might get killed, like in revenge. He's an undercover cop. He has people out for revenge against him all the time."

"So you were just being loyal to him?"

"Yes."

"Instead of being loyal to me? To your own family?"

I felt awful. I mumbled, "I'm really sorry, Kristin." And I really was.

The arcade was as quiet as a graveyard; so was the rest of the mall. I took a long dinner hour, which was more like two hours, and sat reading in the empty food court. Kristin, Will, and I had the closing checklist completed by five after nine.

As I was walking home across the near-empty parking lot, I became aware of a car following me. The driver accelerated, drew even, and shouted, "Roberta!"

I remembered my safety training; I kept walking. The car could contain a pervert who had, by chance, heard my name. But then I heard "Roberta!" again, and the voice sounded familiar. I turned and looked at the driver. It was Griffin. He was behind the wheel of a black Ford Taurus.

"I need to talk to you. It's about Hawg. Can I give you a ride to your house? Can we talk there?"

I felt a little creepy about that. I didn't want to see him in that carport again. But I decided, "Yeah, okay. I guess."

I got into the passenger side, and we started off. I didn't feel too good about my decision when Griffin remained silent all the way to 111th Street. He parked the car in the driveway, short of the carport, and we walked in through the kitchen door.

I sat down on the living room couch, but Griffin remained standing. He had a briefcase with him, a square black one with
a brass combination lock. He set it down on the floor and started talking. "I tried to explain to you before that I'm just a part of a larger process. I'm not the judge; I'm not the jury. I'm just the cop they sent in and asked, 'Is there any evidence there?' I reported back, 'Yes, sir. There is some evidence.'"

He started to pace, his voice rising, "You know, if Hawg hadn't bolted across the road like that, everything would be okay now. That was a bad thing to do. It made him look guilty. Now everybody figures he
was
guilty."

Griffin fixed an angry stare at me. "This should have ended another way. I talked to Hawg for two hours at the station. He knew what the deal was. He knew he wasn't going to take the fall for something he didn't do. And that's the god's honest truth, Roberta. I wasn't going to let that happen."

He clenched both fists and glared at me. "Hawg knew that. I even made him repeat it back to me, word for word, so that I knew that
he
knew." Griffin paused. He sat down heavily on the couch. His eyes became moist, then he whispered, "So why did he do it? Why did he run out into that road?"