Rude Awakening (8 page)

He ran out of the garage and Milt chuckled to himself. They grow up so quick. He bent down to show his son how to put something in the vice.

FOUR

I
t was lush up here on top of the mountain. Pretty. Lots of oaks and pines up here, and in the quiet, during the lulls between bird calls, he could hear the far-off babbling of the falls, where Mountain Falls Road got its name. The two-lane blacktop was quiet, hardly another car traveling along it in the time Emil sat there. Then he heard one coming. He slid down in his seat, his eyes barely peaking over the window opening.

It was a Volvo – just like the one registered to Jean MacDonnell. After watching the car pull into her driveway, Emil got out of the van and made his way through the trees and brush to the clearing in front of the house. A two-story, white stucco house. The first stucco house he'd actually seen in Oklahoma. A white metal three-car garage to the right of the house, its bay doors open.

While he was checking it out, the boy ran out of the garage, heading for the car. Emil couldn't believe his luck. He thought the stars were certainly shining on his enterprise. Handing the boy to him like a gift.

The thrust of the switchblade barely missed Dalton as he rolled quickly to his left. J.M. fell and Dalton jumped him, pinning his knife hand to the sidewalk.

‘Drop it!' Dalton shouted. ‘I'm a sheriff's deputy and you don't wanna be messin' with me!'

‘Ah, fuck, Tanjene!' J.M. said, dropping the knife and turning his head toward the woman.

‘I din' know, J.M., I swear.' Turning to Dalton, she said, ‘Look, mister, he din' mean nothin'. He was just messin' with you.' She tried a smile. ‘Right, J.M.?'

J.M. turned a painful grin toward Dalton. ‘Yeah, man, just messin' wid you. I wasn' gonna hurt you none, swear, man.'

‘You have the right to remain silent . . .' Dalton was saying.

‘Oh, man, don't go arrestin' him!' Tanjene whined. ‘It'll take ever dime I got to get him out! Then he's gonna beat my ass 'cause I don't got any money today!'

‘Tanjene!' J.M. wailed. ‘You ain't helping!'

Tanjene tugged on Dalton's arm. ‘Please, mister, let him go. For me? I got you them pants and everthing!'

Dalton looked at the woman in the blonde wig. One, he had no jurisdiction here and he'd end up having to drag this guy all over hell and gone since he didn't know where the police station was; and two, he didn't know where his car was, which meant walking this guy up and down looking for it, with Tanjene whining the whole way; and three, his head hurt and he didn't have any handcuffs.

Dalton pocketed the switchblade and stood up, taking his weight off J.M.

‘Get up,' Dalton said to him.

J.M. got carefully to his feet, Tanjene helping by pulling at his arm. He shook her off.

‘You ain't gonna take me in?' J.M. asked suspiciously.

‘No,' Dalton said.

‘You think I gonna give you a freebie with Tanjene here 'cause of that?'

Dalton's eyes widened and he looked from one to the other. ‘You ain't her boyfriend?' Dalton asked.

Tanjene rolled her eyes. ‘I saw that!' J.M. accused.

‘He my pimp,' Tanjene said, turning toward Dalton.

‘Hush up, girl!' J.M. said, pulling his arm back in a threatening manner.

Dalton cupped his bear claw of a hand over J.M.'s upraised fist. ‘We're not going through this again,' he said. ‘I'll call the police, have 'em come get your ass.'

J.M. laughed and looked Dalton up and down. ‘In them pants? They arrest you, not me!'

Dalton pushed the man away. ‘Get going. Now!'

Still laughing, J.M. sauntered off, backing down but keeping his pride intact.

It seemed to be taking Eli way too long to get his ‘breathie'. I told Johnny Mac, ‘Stay here a minute,' and walked to the Volvo sitting in the driveway. It was empty. Thinking that he'd gone into the house for a drink or something, I went back and got Johnny Mac and took him with me into the house, thinking I never should have let Eli go after his ‘breathie' alone. Shit, the boy was only four, same as Johnny Mac. What the hell was I thinking?

Johnny Mac and I walked in the front door, and I hollered, ‘Eli! Hey, boy, where are you?'

There was no answer.

‘Eli!' Johnny Mac yelled.

No reply.

I walked through the kitchen and into the master bedroom, an addition that had been put on by a previous owner, its location making it easy for midnight snacking. Our private bathroom was attached. I went to the door and knocked. ‘Jean?'

‘What? I'm taking a bath!' she said, with that ‘I'm trying to be patient but you're getting on my last nerve' sound in her voice.

‘Eli in there with you?' I asked.

‘What? Why would he be?'

‘No reason—' I started, but didn't have a chance to finish.

‘Milton, don't tell me you've lost Eli!' Jean said, her voice going into that almost soft tone it gets right before the shit hits the fan.

‘I didn't lose him!' I said. ‘I just can't find him.'

Turning to my son, I said, ‘Come on, Johnny Mac. Let's keep looking.'

Jean was out of the bath, wrapped in a towel and balanced on her crutches in the bathroom doorway before me and Johnny Mac had a chance to get out of the bedroom.

‘What happened?' Jean asked.

Without turning to her, I said, ‘Gotta keep looking.'

‘Milton! What happened?' Jean demanded.

I sighed. ‘I don't know! He went out to the car to get his breathie – that's what he calls his inhaler . . .'

‘I thought he had it in his pocket,' Jean said.

‘He must've forgot it,' I said.

‘Did you look in the car for it?' Jean asked.

‘It wasn't in there, so he did get in the car and got it.' I said.

‘He's around here somewhere. Me and Johnny Mac are gonna find him.'

‘I'll get dressed,' Jean said.

‘Naw. Just go on and fix some supper. We'll find him.' Turning to my son, I said, ‘Let's go, pal.'

Sometimes I'm pretty thick-skulled.

‘You didn't tell me you was no cop!' Tanjene said, hands on hips, blonde wig slightly askew.

‘It didn't come up,' Dalton said. ‘You were gonna buy me a cup of coffee?'

Tanjene took her hands off her hips, using her hands to accentuate her words. ‘You out of yo' mind? I ain't takin' no cop for coffee! Jeez Louise, you think I'm a idiot?'

‘Then could I borrow a couple of dollars?' Dalton asked, blushing.

Tanjene smiled. ‘Ah, baby, you so cute when you get all red like that! And no, you cain't borrow no money from me! I work hard for my money, like that ol' song say!'

‘Well, thank you for helping me in the alley back there,' Dalton said and started to walk away.

‘Oh, now, honey, don't go off in a huff.' She caught up with Dalton and locked arms with him, pressing her ample breasts against his arm. ‘I buy you some coffee. I'm sorta off work now anyways.'

They started walking down the street, arm in arm, heading for a coffee shop, when the
wup wup
sound came up behind them. ‘Hey, there, Tanjene,' a man said and they both turned around. A Tulsa patrol car was pulled up to the curb, with a uniformed officer hanging out the shotgun side window. ‘You got you a paying customer there, Tanjene?'

‘No, now honey, he just a friend,' Tanjene said.

Both officers got out of the car and came up onto the sidewalk.

‘Ah shit,' Tanjene said under her breath.

‘Let's see some ID there,
friend
,' one of the officers said.

‘I sorta lost my pants,' Dalton told the officer.

The officer looked down at Dalton's bottom half, ‘Then what do you call those?'

Dalton followed the officer's gaze. ‘Oh, well, you see—'

‘Pat him down, Mike,' the other officer said.

Mike told Dalton, ‘Assume the position.'

‘Huh?' Dalton said. ‘Oh, yeah,' and leaned his hands against the wall of the boarded-up store they were passing.

‘Holy shit!' Mike said, coming up with the switchblade. He shoved Dalton hard against the wall, yelling, ‘Danny, he's armed!'

Dalton breathed, ‘Oh for God's sake.'

Holly was so bored, even her hair hurt. She'd checked out the old barn as much as she possibly could. Besides a rotten-smelling bale of hay in one corner, that's all there was, except, of course, for the props and camera equipment Mr Smith had brought with him. She sure hoped he didn't plan for her to sleep on that cot in this nasty barn. She'd tried climbing up to the hayloft but her hands got dirty on the first rung so she gave that up. Picking out the hay and spitting her hands clean had taken up about an hour, but even that had ended a while ago.

Finally, she heard the muffler of the old van as it turned into the long road toward the barn. She stood outside waiting for it. Mr Smith had barely stepped out of the van before he was waving for her to get back. ‘Hurry!' he said. So Holly scooted back into the barn. He came in behind her.

‘We start now!' he said, rushing to the video camera on the tripod. He turned it on. ‘Stand in front of it, right here,' he marked an ‘X' with his foot in the dirt floor. ‘Let me get a line on you.' Holly did as she was told. ‘OK, now get behind this and film me coming in.' He showed Holly how to work the video camera. ‘Here's the scene,' he told her. ‘The villain has kidnapped a small child. You are his accomplice. I'll come in and stand on the “X”. Make sure the camera is on the “X” and then you come take the child and I'll go back and film. And remember, this kid is a method actor; he's liable to stay in character even when I'm not filming.'

‘Really?' said Holly. ‘Wow.'

‘Get behind the camera!' he said.

‘Oh, right. OK, ready. You want me to follow you from when you enter the barn, right?'

‘Yes,' Smith said, his teeth clenched.

‘Do we need more light?' Holly asked.

‘No!' he shouted and headed out to the van.

Holly videotaped as Smith walked in the door carrying a small, squirming bundle wrapped in a blanket. She thought how strange it was that Mr Smith was wearing a bag over his head, but it did have eyeholes cut out. She kept videotaping until he got to the ‘X', then, making sure the camera was still running, she ran up to the ‘X' to join the other two actors.

‘Take him!' Smith shouted, thrusting the still-squirming child into Holly's arms. He ran behind the camera. ‘Now, let him out of the blanket!' he said.

Holly carefully lowered her burden to the dirt floor and unrolled the child. That's when she discovered he wasn't squirming for the camera, he was gasping for breath.

Looking up at Smith, she asked, ‘Is this method acting or is he dying?'

Smith attempted a laugh. It came out as more of a bark. ‘Acting, my dear! What a trooper, eh?'

Looking down at the boy again, she noticed he was trying to say something. ‘What?' she said, bending over him.

‘Breathie!' he said, gasping for air. ‘Breathie!'

Holly shook her head, confused. She had no idea what this kid was saying. She needed a script, damn it!

The boy's hands were tied in front of him, but he managed to point awkwardly toward the front pocket of his blue jeans. Holly felt the outside of the pocket – definitely something in there. She thrust her hand into the pocket and came up with an inhaler.

‘What are you doing?' Smith asked, still taping away.

‘This kid isn't acting, Mr Smith! He really is having a hard time breathing. Look! He has an inhaler. I think he has asthma or something,' Holly said.

Smith sighed, leaning his head against the coolness of the video camera. This unbalanced the tripod and both it and the video camera hit the dirt floor.

‘Here,' Holly said to the boy. ‘The camera's off. Let's get these ropes untied and we'll get you your inhaler. Your breathie.'

The child's head nodded vigorously.

I couldn't find Eli anywhere. Me and Johnny Mac looked all over the backyard, the front yard and in the house – just in case. The boy was gone.

‘I can't believe you lost that child!' my wife said.

‘I didn't lose him!' I answered. ‘He musta run off.'

‘Let's get in the car,' Jean said, and we did. We drove her Volvo down the mountain, down both sides, and saw neither hide nor hair of the boy.

Pulling back into the driveway, Jean and I looked at each other, neither saying what we were both thinking.

From the back seat, Johnny Mac asked, ‘Where's Eli?'

‘Ah—' I started.

Jean cut me off, ‘Probably looking for his mommy. Did he say anything to you about wanting to go home?'

‘No,' said Johnny Mac, his bottom lip trembling. ‘He didn't say nothin' . . .'

‘Anything,' Jean corrected automatically.

‘We didn't get to play at all!' Johnny Mac cried, bursting into sloppy tears.

We got out of the Volvo and I carried Johnny Mac into the house and handed him over to his mother, then went to the phone to call it in. The kid was gone and there was gonna be hell to pay when I found out who took him.