The Light at the End of the Tunnel (27 page)

That strange pronunciation of the word
‘rape’
had gotten him in trouble more than once with the
older boys, not serious trouble, of course, but embarrassing. He
wondered if she still pronounced it the same, and if she had ever
been raped again. She had acted pretty clueless this night, as the
big woman kept giving her orders to
‘Watch!’ ‘Don’t close your
eyes!’
Didn’t matter to him of course, because he didn’t
do
young girls.

That one, though, was pretty cute, and he
knew she’d be even cuter if she smiled. Maybe he should re-examine
his priorities. Funny he would think of that anyway, that he didn’t
do young girls, as if he had been doing this for years and years
rather than just a couple months…

He saw soldiers lining up facing him. He
knew they were soldiers because they all wore blue uniforms and
blue caps—they were Civil War soldiers! He had seen pictures of the
long lines of soldiers in blue and gray shooting at each other, but
why were they lining up facing him?

He moved his hand to wave at them—he
couldn’t move his hand! He was tied up! Why was he tied? At least
ten soldiers now faced him—

“
Attennn—SHUN!”

He didn’t see the man who had shouted that
command but he did see the men stand tall, at attention, their long
rifles stiff at their sides—

“
Port—ARMS!!!!”

The soldiers all raised their rifles and
held them slightly away from their chests, stock to their right,
barrel up and to their left.

“
The hood.”

That command wasn’t shouted. He felt a sense
of a black thing hung over his head—What?—then slipping down past
his eyes, shutting off his sight—“Readdieee!”

What? He heard a shuffling sound, then a
bunch of clicks.

“
Aim!” Aim…what…?

“
Fire!” Wh—

A bunch of…something, hit, all over the
middle of his body. Just thuds. The thuds didn’t hurt, yet in his
growing and developing young mind he suspected that what had just
happened was not a good thing.

Les Paul shook his head. They had just
shot
him! A bunch of Civil War soldier-guys had just
shot
him!
Why?
What had he
done
? Why would he
have a stupid memory of the Civil War? As if he had
been
there!

Why?

The memories he kept having were so
stupid
. Somebody was constantly killing him, hanging him,
shooting him—once he had even been forced down to his knees while a
warrior in a metal suit lifted a sword over his head—
Jesus!
Stupid memories!

“Whaddya thinkin’ about, Baby Boy?”

“Nuthin’! And that’s not my name!”

“Well, what
is
your name? Nobody seems
to know.”

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll beat your stupid
head. We’ve got a good thing goin’ here with these girls and
tomorrow night they’ll be back.”

“Tomorrow? Good thing?—Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they need the
money.”

“I heard from Pierce that when this bunch got
back they’d have something special for us,” Edsel, the other boy
said, “Do you spose that special thing is that really
young
girl they had there tonight?”

“I don’t know.” It hadn’t occurred to Les
Paul that the other boy had even noticed her, and why the hell
wouldn’t he have? Suddenly—
for just a few blazing seconds
—he
felt protective of her, and that
totally
confused him. Sure,
he didn’t do the young girls, but before then it had never occurred
to him to protect them…he snarled to himself and forced that
thought away!

“You say
‘girls,’
” Edsel said, “But I
hear you only do the old lady. What’s with that?”

“Shut the fuck up or you won’t be goin’ with
me ever again.”

Edsel kept quiet then. Les Paul had his own
thoughts to contend with. There were so many boys there now at the
juvie center, and so many were now looking to him for leadership,
ever since Pierce had been transferred elsewhere. And maybe he was
wrong about not doing the younger girls. Maybe this night he would
choose
the young girl, not the dark-haired one but the real
young one he remembered. Maybe she’ll scream
‘Reap!’
again.

As he saw the hole in the fence up ahead, he
smiled.
Yes, maybe I will
.

Chapter 44
The Discrepancy

The next morning while having breakfast,
Nicole’s cell phone began playing one of her favorite Carrie
Underwood songs. She answered immediately and heard the voice of
her man, “The job couldn’t pass a background check, so it got
cancelled,” the chaplain said, “Did you get the Amber Alert
out?”

“We did, but, as Sikorsky said, she could be
anywhere by now—anywhere in the country, or even the world—because
it’s been quite a bit more than twenty-four hours.” Nicole felt her
throat catch and swallowed.

“We won’t give up on her though, my dear. The
Amber Alert was the least we could do. What about Baby Boy?
Anything new on him?”

“Not that Sikorsky knows about, but he did
suggest that you and I go down to the juvie center and take a look
for ourselves.”

“We’ll do that, and we’re landing in about an
hour Can you pick me up?”

“I will, we’ll get you something to eat, if
you need it, and then the juvie center.”

****

Two hours later they stood with the center
director at a one-way mirror that faced the boys’ recreation area.
By the open door that lead to the outdoor recreation area stood Les
Paul with the attention of three other boys.

“Seems our boy has maybe become something of
a leader,” the chaplain said.

“Yes, he is,” the center director said,
evidently agreeing, “The other boys—even the older ones—seem to
look up to him a lot. That’s something the center has needed for a
long time, someone to set a good example, and Baby Boy certainly
does that.”

“How, specifically…?” Nicole asked.

The chaplain knew she was fishing. Depending
on what Les Paul had done to gain this man’s trust, and whether or
not it would seem sincere and truthful or just one more
manipulative scam to get what he wanted.

“Well, for one thing,” the director said,
“Our church services have been mostly ignored in the past, but when
I’m out there with the boys I’ve actually heard Baby Boy talking
about Jesus Christ and encouraging others to come to services.
‘After all,’
I heard him say one day,
‘It’s just for one
hour a week.’
”

The chaplain heard Nicole’s slight choke that
she immediately covered up with a short coughing fit, “That’s
wonderful!” she said after recovering, “What
else
has he
done, for instance…?”

“Well, he breaks up fights regularly. Even
though he’s a few inches shorter than most of the boys, he gets
right in there and breaks them up.”

“Wow!” This time Nicole didn’t even try to
hide her… amazement, “You don’t suppose he creates the fights, just
so he can break them up and look good…do you?”

The director stared at her and some of his
friendliness seemed to disappear, “Absolutely not! I’ve come to
trust that boy with no doubt, and I depend on him for help.”

“I see,” Nicole said, “Sorry, but I wanted to
find out how you really felt, and I guess I did.”

“You certainly did, and if that is all,
folks….” The director turned and nodded toward the door.

“That’s all,” the chaplain said, and took
hold of his wife’s arm, “And we thank you kindly for your
help.”

****

“Can you believe that guy?” Nicole asked when
they were out of hearing.

“Yes, Nicole. I can. He wants to believe
there is good in everybody, and I applaud him for that.”

“We should have told him some of the things
that boy has done.”

“You’re surprising me, my dear, and you know
we can’t…legitimately—and morally—share those things, those details
of Les Paul’s life. And his many lives, of course, which we really
don’t know about. For all we know this is only his second life as a
criminal. Or maybe even just his first.”

“It’s not.”

“You sound so sure.”

“I am, Rad. I think that boy has been
around…maybe forever. Somebody, some…thing has to have carried
around at least the
concept
of evil, from…what the hell?
From the beginning. Even the cave man days. I bet there were some
bloody murders back then. Les Paul is as good a vessel as any to do
just that.”

“You sound pretty certain.”

“I am. Back in the cave man days there wasn’t
much for religion, but there had to have been murders and rapes,
every crime man has ever thought of, all started back then, and our
own Les Paul has carried it to contemporary times.”

“Wow, that’s quite a concept, my dear.”

“I believe it, Rad, and I believe you. And I
know it’s difficult to keep believing in something with no more to
go on then the passage you saw in that book, but I do believe you
saw and read the word of God that night.”

“I believe it too, Nicole, although, but for
you being with me…well, I don’t know if I would have had the
courage to keep going.”

“You would have, Rad. I’m certain of it.”
Nicole stopped them and looked solidly at her husband, “And it
seems we have come to sort of a dead end with Les Paul, for the
time being anyway.” She touched his arm, “Your belief in our
mission isn’t slipping, is it?”

“No, it’s not. I guess I was just
appreciating hearing you with that director of the center.”

“Yes, I believe he’s quite the gullible
idiot.” Nicole brought her smile back and got them moving again,
“And not to drastically change the subject, but our Cassandra is
still missing—Rad, we have to help that child.”

“I agree, Nicole, and I want to help her too,
and, if we can find her we’ll make every attempt to adopt her and
take her into our life.”

“Really?” She stopped again and turned to her
husband, “You really
want
to?”

He guided her to the passenger side of her
vehicle, a semi-private spot, then took her into his arms and held
her really close, “We had a quick hug at the airport, my dear, but
we haven’t had a real good hug for a while.” He pulled her even
closer and enveloped her, and she responded in kind, “We’ll find
her, Nicole.”

“We have to, Rad, and hearing you say that
makes me feel better.”

“Good, and I have something else to share
with you.”

“Yes?” She stepped back, “What?”

“Our good juvie center director is totally
trusting of his boys, but, in my line of sight was—you couldn’t
have seen it where you were—what should I call it? A discrepancy.
That’s it, a discrepancy in the fence.”

Nicole was openly excited, “A
discrepancy?”

“A hole, my dear. I didn’t point it out to
our director friend just in case I was wrong, but I have a sneaking
suspicion that our Baby Boy is leading his fellow juvies astray.
We’ll get in touch with Sikorsky and the three of us will go back
there tonight and maybe see what’s what.”

“Brilliant, my dear chaplain. Are you sure
your conniving soul belongs to God?”

“Not to God yet, but He maybe will call in
His favors someday.”

Chapter 45
Diva Girl

Cassandra was having a good day, or so she
thought. A few hours earlier they had all gone to Burger King for
breakfast. For a few minutes she had actually been free. She could
have run. She can run fast so she knew they couldn’t have caught
her. Mandy had caught her that time in the ditch because she was so
unsure of herself, and hungry, and frightened, but this time she
knew she could have outrun her.

Twice, even, a police car had been close,
but, she had decided, maybe the woman driver wasn’t so bad. After
all, weren’t they going to eat again? This time at Dairy Queen! She
had never been to a Dairy Queen!

She saw the Dairy Queen in the distance. She
hadn’t been to one, but she knew what they looked like. But the
woman driver turned onto a different street.

“The Dairy Queen is on the other street!” she
cried, not yet even able to believe that the woman driver had
probably lied to her.

“Hang onto her, Mandy.” The woman driver
turned and glanced back, “We’ll go to the Dairy Queen afterwards.”
Then she smiled that smile that was such a big fat lie!

“After what?” she cried. Then she felt
Mandy’s iron grip on her right arm. She jerked toward Mandy, but
Mandy wouldn’t even look at her. The older girl just kept facing
forward.

A pressure entered her chest. She knew it was
tears, and she even felt like letting them go, but didn’t, “Mandy—“
instead she choked and swallowed—
Nicole
—and muffled any more
sound with her left hand, then she swallowed and swallowed again,
and kept her left hand over her mouth. She just refused to cry, to
show these cruel people that she was weak—
she wasn’t weak!
She’d
show
them! And why had she again thought of Nicole?
Nicole couldn’t help her. She wondered if Nicole even remembered
her.

****

They at last pulled into an alley. Cassandra
was looking in all directions but managing to hide her search.
Instead she relaxed the arm Mandy was gripping, and, consequently,
Mandy relaxed her grip too. She didn’t want to get Mandy in trouble
by running, but Mandy would have to fend for herself, and that’s
what she was doing by always obeying that awful woman driver. She
wondered about Mandy’s mother too, why she never stood up for
Mandy, or even for her own self.

The woman driver turned into the back of a
fairly nice house and stopped, then looked back, “This is your
time, little girl, you’re going to make us a lot of money
today—“

“How much?” Cassandra surprised even herself
by asking such a question, but the shocked look on the woman
driver’s face said she was right doing it. Mandy glanced at her
too, and her grip relaxed even more.