The Fourth Stall (3 page)

“Yeah, I guess, I . . . I didn’t know where else to go. My parents would just go to the principal, but I can’t let them do that, not now.”

“I understand, Fred. I want to help because you seem like a good kid, but I have a pretty strict policy on payment. The only kids who get freebies are the innocent ones. You’re not exactly squeaky clean on this whole thing, you understand?” I said.

Fred nodded. I felt bad to take such a hard line. But with the Cubs game just a few weeks away I couldn’t afford to just hand out my services for free to every customer who cried. I glanced at Vince. He gave me a slight nod. Like I said before, it seemed like he was more willing to help out kids for no charge. Which was kind of funny, considering he was usually the one stressing about our money flow. But either way it was nice to get his approval to charge Fred for our services.

“So?” I asked Fred after a few moments.

“Well, I still have like twenty dollars left from my last payday. Is that enough?”

“Sure, that’ll be just fine, for a few days at least. This could get pretty dangerous, though, so I may require more later on,” I said.

Fred nodded and sniffled.

“It’s okay, Fred. We’ll protect you.”

I leaned back in my chair and looked at Vince again. We both knew this might be bigger than a simple protection job. Had business been slow lately because Staples was cheating my customers out of the money they’d normally be spending on my services? Whatever the reason, I knew I had to focus on trying to protect Fred for now. First things first.

But would I actually be able to protect a defenseless little kid from a monster like Staples?

Chapter 3

Y
ou really think it’s true?” Vince asked after Fred left. He tossed a baseball in the air and caught it. Vince was always playing around with a baseball. Some of the best ideas we ever came up with happened while we were just tossing the ball back and forth.

I nodded. “Didn’t you see this kid? He was terrified.”

Vince pondered the situation for a bit longer. “This is a real dilemma. It’s like that one time that I wanted barbecue chicken but I couldn’t have it because I decided to be a vegetarian for two weeks to see what it was like to be a giraffe.”

Joe and I laughed. Vince has this way of making me laugh at the most serious times. It’s part of why I love him so much. And the things he says usually don’t make much sense because he reads so many books and knows about so much obscure stuff. Nobody usually knows what the heck he’s even talking about.

After Fred explained his problem to me, I had Joe post a sign on the bathroom door that said the office was closed for the day. Well, the sign didn’t actually say that exactly. It really said, “Caution: Wet Floor,” but all the kids know that is code for “closed for the afternoon.” If we put up the sign that says “Closed for Plumbing Repairs,” then the students know that the office is closed until further notice, which might be several days. I hated closing early. It meant disappointed students and lost money—which was not good for our Game Fund. Right now, though, we needed to think. We sat on folding chairs in the bathroom, eating the lunches that my mom had packed for us. My mom made all three of us lunch almost every day. She always liked to make food for my friends. She was cool like that.

We were supposed to be strategizing, but mostly we chewed and kept saying how much trouble we were in.

Now, you have to understand, I’m not usually afraid of much. I own this school. But if all the rumors about Staples were true, then we were dealing with one dangerous guy. And the last thing I needed was a kid that dangerous to have it in for me before I even had a plan for how to handle him. I needed to think of a way to protect Fred without revealing who was doing it.

“So?” Vince asked. He had been watching me think.

“Let me worry about it. You just make sure that Brady sticks to Fred like gum to the bottom of a desk.”

Brady was this third grader who did odd jobs for me sometimes. He happened to be in the same class as Fred, so we decided we were going to pay him a dollar a day to keep an eye on Fred during class and especially in the halls between recesses and lunch.

There are teachers who monitor the halls, but I’ve found over the years that most teachers are pretty clueless when it comes to how things work among kids. They are never around when the real stuff goes down.

“What about at recess? Who’s going to protect Fred then?” Vince asked.

“We’ll have to hire more help, right, Mac?” Joe said.

Vince gave him a look. He didn’t like the idea of hiring more help because it would be expensive. The more money we spent on this stuff, the less money we’d be able to put into the Game Fund. Vince was always worried about our profit margin.

“He’s right, Vince,” I said. “We need to hire an older kid to watch over Fred during lunch and recess. We’ve got to keep the office open, and that’s when he’ll be most vulnerable. Brady isn’t big enough to do it on his own.”

“I know we need help, Mac,” Vince said as he tossed me the baseball, “but we’d have to get a seventh grader at least. Do you know how much that will cost us?”

I caught the ball and nodded. He was right, but what else could we do? I felt the stitching and then spread two fingers across the ball like I was going to throw a splitter.

“We may have to dip into the Emergency Fund,” I said, throwing the ball back. The Emergency Fund is a pile of money that I started a few years ago. I keep it in my closet right next to the Game Fund, and it’s there in case we are ever in a pinch and need a bit of money.

Vince caught the ball and shook his head.

“But that’s only supposed to be for
real
emergencies, like if I need an ice cream really bad and I don’t have any spare change. Or if I lose a video baseball game because my dumb third baseman makes an error and I get so angry that I throw my whole gaming console right out the window and it smashes the windshield of my mom’s car,” he said.

I smirked in spite of myself. Even now, when he was genuinely concerned about our money supply, Vince was still joking around.

“If we get to the point where we actually have to use the Emergency Fund, then . . . well, then this whole situation probably
will
be an emergency,” I said.

“Actually, I just got an idea for this Fred situation that might help to save some money,” Vince said.

That’s one reason Vince is such a great business partner—he always comes up with great ways to save money and pinch pennies, thrifty ways to solve tough problems. I mean, sure, his jokes are fun, too, but I’d trade those in any day for his ingenious ideas.

“Let’s hear it,” I said.

“Well, we could let him hang out in here until we find someone to do it for cheap. That would keep him safe and it would be free,” he said.

“Nice, Vince,” I said. “But won’t that let people know that we’re involved?”

“Maybe, but kids are going to find out eventually either way. We’ll just make sure we get him here as soon as possible each recess and lunch and hope that too many kids don’t notice.”

“All right, let’s plan to do that for now, but I don’t want anything to interfere with normal business long-term. We eventually need to find someone else. We need to keep things running smoothly,” I said.

Vince nodded. “It’s like my grandma said once. ‘When the coin purse is empty, the pocket lint is king,’” he said after a moment of silence.

We all looked at him and then burst out laughing.

Vince’s grandma is senile. She is a hundred and three years old or something like that, and she is always saying stuff that doesn’t make any sense at all. Most of his family looks at each other uncomfortably when she does that, but Vince loves it. He writes down all the stuff she says in a quote book. Vince loves to quote his grandma. Which I usually find pretty funny.

After a few more minutes of discussion we decided to hire a kid named Tanzeem down the line to look after Fred during lunch and recess long-term, if things went on longer than expected. Tanzeem is a pretty tough seventh grader, and Joe said we could trust him. Joe was going to tell him to meet me here tomorrow during lunch.

This was shaping up to be a pretty tough case, but the one thing I actually thought I had on my side was the element of surprise. Staples didn’t know yet that Fred had this kind of protection. Something I learned long ago from watching lots of action movies and playing video games is that having the element of surprise is huge. It’s one of the best things to have.

That’s why it really sucked that I didn’t actually have it. Not at all. We soon found out that Staples somehow knew I was protecting Fred right from the beginning. Kids usually didn’t get the drop on me. But then, Staples wasn’t your usual kid.

Chapter 4

T
he first sign that somebody had the drop on us came the next morning before school. I went a little early so I could stop by my office to make a few notes in my Books. I unlocked the door to the bathroom and flicked on the lights, and was in the process of shutting the door so I could lock it when it was pushed back open. The force on the other side was so hard it knocked me backward onto the floor of the bathroom. I sat up and saw the assailant looming over me in the doorway. It was Barnaby Willis, a.k.a. the Collector.

“Hey, look at what I found,” he said with a slight accent. He talked like a wiseguy from some New York gangster movie.

He isn’t as big as I had thought, but I’m the smallest sixth grader in the school, so I still didn’t stand a chance either way. He wore cargo shorts and a black T-shirt. A small gold cross hung from a neck that supported a pointy face and gelled black hair.

I scooted back and tried to get to my feet but he was too quick. He stepped forward and pressed his foot onto my chest, pinning me to the floor. My lungs felt like a deflating whoopee cushion, only without any laughs.

“No you don’t,” he said.

I grabbed his foot and tried to lift it, but that only made him press down harder, so I let go.

“So,” he said as if he was starting a conversation with an old friend, “I hear that you’re harboring a fugitive?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said as calmly as I could. It was always best at these times to remain as calm as possible.

“Oh, you don’t? Oh, my bad. Sorry about that, sir. I guess I got the wrong guy. Here. I’ll help you up,” he said, faking like he was going to let me up.

I just lay there, trying to come up with a plan to get out of this.

“Hah! Just kidding,” he said, laughing at his stupid joke.

I felt myself starting to panic. Joe or Vince usually didn’t stop by here in the mornings. Heck, I usually didn’t either. I didn’t really stand a chance against this kid by myself and nobody would be coming to help me.

“Do you know that in most states harboring a fugitive is considered as serious an offense as being the fugitive himself?” Willis asked with a playful grin.

“Wow, I didn’t know that. Tell me all about it,” I said with a mocking air of wonder in my voice.

“Hey! Don’t be a smart guy! You’re in no position to talk to me like that,” he said, pressing his foot down a little harder to make his point.

“Okay,” I managed to squeeze out.

“Anyways, like I was saying, your little buddy Fred has threatened to rat out some very important people. Which is a pretty serious offense, as I’m sure you know. And as long as you’re helping him, you’re in just as much trouble as he is. Understand?” he said.

“Not really,” I grunted, even though I understood completely. It was getting hard to breathe under his foot.

He laughed.

“That’s too bad, Mac,” he said as he leaned in closer.

I saw his fist go back and I braced myself for the blow. I had no idea what to expect because I’d never been punched before. But the blow never came.

The bathroom door opened and then suddenly the pressure on my chest was gone. I sat up and saw Vince standing in the doorway. His mouth was open and he probably looked more scared than I did.

Willis stood up and looked at Vince, seeming nervous for the first time.

“What’s going on?” Vince asked.

I almost had to stifle a laugh. That was all Vince could think of to say? He has never been too good at confrontations. But it didn’t matter. Vince’s mere presence seemed to be enough.

While Willis probably could have taken on both Vince and me in a fight, he didn’t even try. He just pushed past Vince and ran out the door. But then, something told me he had been there only to send us a message anyway, and that message had been delivered.

“Are you okay? What happened?” Vince asked.

“I’m fine, thanks to you,” I said. “He was just waiting for me, I guess. Jumped me before I could lock the door. He was basically threatening me for helping Fred. What are you doing here anyway?” I asked.

Vince looked at the floor and shrugged. I waited for an actual explanation.

When he realized a shrug wasn’t going to be enough, he said, “I was just stopping by to go over our finances.”

I nodded. Vince had been spending a little more time at the office than usual lately. He must have been getting pretty nervous about the Cubs possibly making it all the way this year, and us being able to get to a game. I know I was.

“Well, thanks,” I said. “I hate to think how that might have ended had you not shown up.”

“How did he know that we’re helping Fred?” Vince asked.

I shook my head. Though after some thought the answer seemed pretty obvious. If Staples had employees all over the school, one was bound to have seen Fred in line here yesterday and then just put two and two together.

We’d just have to be more careful from now on. Now that Staples knew I was trying to protect Fred, we were all going to be targets. Which meant I really needed to get more information on Staples and his business. I didn’t like the idea that he knew more about what I was doing than I did about him. For all we knew, Joe, Vince, and I were the last three kids in the school not working for Staples. The more I learned about this whole mess, the more I realized that it might end up being much more than a simple case of playing bodyguard for a third grader.

That was the first order of business later that day during morning recess: getting as much information as I could on Staples and how his operation worked at my school. I needed to know what we were up against. This was becoming a pretty serious situation, so I reluctantly had Joe hang the “Closed for Plumbing Repairs” sign on the door.

When Fred showed up, Vince went out to take care of some business from earlier in the week and I sent Brady and Joe with him for protection. Vince was pretty big—he was almost half a foot taller and thirty pounds heavier than me—but he wasn’t much of a fighter and, as I’ve said, had never been very good at confrontations. I locked the office after they left and sat down to talk to Fred.

“Okay, Fred, let’s start with all the kids you know who work for Staples besides Barnaby,” I said.

“I don’t remember hardly anybody, and I don’t know all their names,” he said.

“It’s okay, Fred; just tell me what you
can
remember.”

“Okay, umm, well, when I saw him, he usually was with like maybe three or four other kids. They’re all in high school, except Staples, of course—he doesn’t go to school. One of them is his second-in-command or whatever. His name is PJ. He’s got short spiky hair and I think he plays hockey and baseball. He’s a real jerk, too. He’s always making fun of everybody. I don’t really know the names of the other ones, but they’re all pretty tough. Two of them wear grungy clothes all the time and they have tattoos and stuff like that.”

Great. Just great. Staples had a posse of high school kids and all I had was a few seventh graders if I was lucky. I tried not to let my concern show.

“Go on,” I said.

“Well, umm, I only ever met Staples a couple times, but the times I did were at his house. Well, not like inside his house. He has a shed or something that he uses for his office. I don’t even know if he’s got parents; I mean, his office was pretty dirty. I bet he doesn’t got parents.”

I nodded. Bad kid with a bad home life. That isn’t unusual, at least not according to TV shows I’ve seen. Getting to a kid outside of the school system was going to be tough, mostly because there were even fewer rules out there.

“Where is his house, Fred?” I asked.

“I don’t know. They always blindfolded me until I was inside. I don’t think anybody knows where he lives except for those four high school kids.”

“Okay, what about here at my school? How does his business work here?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t remember a lot of stuff, but I think I heard Staples say once that there were ten bookies including me. We all had our own spots where we went every recess, and then kids came to us to place bets. My spot was by the monkey bars in the grade school playground.”

“How many different kids do you think have placed bets so far?”

“I don’t know, Mac. Probably like one fourth of all the kids here, but I’m not too sure about that—I’m really bad at fractions. But I do know that Staples almost
always
finds a way to make sure that most kids lose their bets,” Fred said proudly, as if that was the most valuable piece of information I could get.

I nodded and smiled at him, but it was obvious that I was already losing control. How could this have been going on without me knowing? Suddenly I felt like I had no power. It felt kind of like when we all went to race go-karts and I had the slowest car. No matter how well I drove, I’d never win because my car just couldn’t keep up. I hated that feeling.

“Who are the other bookies, Fred?”

“Okay . . . uh, well, there’s Jacky Boy—he’s stationed by the merry-go-round—and then there’s Andy Aasen and Darren Schmidt, but I don’t know where they’re stationed, and . . . umm . . . I guess I don’t remember any more. I’m sorry, Mac. Jacky Boy was pretty much the only bookie I ever talked to. He was my main contact.”

“What about the leader? There has to be somebody in charge here, right? I mean, Staples can’t run the whole operation from outside the school, can he?”

“Umm, I don’t know. I think Staples does have, like, a top guy here or whatever, but I don’t know who it is. It’s not the Collector, I know that—he’s just muscle. I always just gave my money and bets and stuff to Jacky Boy.”

“It’s okay, you did good, Fred. Real good.” I patted him on the shoulder.

But there was still a lot I needed to learn. First and foremost, I had to find out who Staples’s top guy at my school was. Second, I needed to know the identities of all the bookies. The way things were going, it could’ve been anyone. I didn’t like thinking that I couldn’t trust my classmates. It was a horrible feeling to have, especially when running a business like mine.