The Fourth Stall (4 page)

Chapter 5

A
t lunchtime that day I was supposed to meet with Tanzeem, but he never showed up. After waiting for ten minutes I got concerned and sent Joe to find him and make sure he was okay.

The whole ordeal forced me to close up the office once again, much to the dismay of Vince, and the kids waiting outside the bathroom. In the meantime, Vince, Brady, and I sat in my office and discussed a plan while Fred sat nearby and played his Nintendo DS.

“What do you think?” I asked Vince, who was fiddling with a baseball again. He would always be the first person I asked, and the last person, too, in case he came up with any genius ideas while I was asking everybody else.

“I don’t know. I want to get back at that Barnaby Willis guy, though,” he said with an edge to his voice that I’d never heard before. He was generally pretty calm, but when people messed with me, he had a real dark side.

“It’s okay, Vince. Don’t worry about it. We’ll deal with that greaseball later. At least we
know
we need to be careful with him. All these other bookies and the guy in charge here are much more dangerous to us right now because we don’t even know who they are.”

Vince nodded. I turned to Brady.

“Don’t you know
any
of the bookies? I mean, kids are placing bets with them, so it’s not like their identities are some huge secret, right?” I asked.

“Well, I don’t know, Mac. I don’t really know any of them myself, and I don’t think the kids who
do
know will tell you anyways,” he said.

“Geez, way to be positive, Brady,” I said.

“Yeah, no kidding. Get out of here with all your smiley faces and bright rainbows and flowers and stuff. You’re just choking us with all your corny optimism,” Vince said.

“Sorry, guys. I’m just trying to be honest or whatever,” Brady said.

“What about Tyrell?” I asked. “We could hire him to find out?”

“No!” Vince practically shouted. It startled Brady and me a little, and a brief silence followed. “I mean, well, I just don’t think he’s the right guy for this quite yet, Mac.”

I nodded. It figured that Vince would say that. Tyrell is basically my secret weapon in desperate times, but his services are not cheap. Vince rarely likes to call in Tyrell for help. And probably especially right now, business slowing down as it had. Vince had even been spending extra time at the office lately, working his Books even after I’d gone home.

“Okay, we’ll hold off on Tyrell for now. I guess maybe that
would
be overkill,” I said.

“Yeah, you better just talk to Ears, Mac. He’ll know,” Vince said. “And at a much cheaper price.”

Ears is my main informant. Gossip, fights, detentions, teachers’ lounge drama, canceled tests, who is dating who—you name it, Ears has the story. Heck, he could probably even tell you what the principal ate for dinner last night. That’s obviously where he got his nickname, because he always hears things other kids don’t. That and he also has huge floppy ears.

“Well, let’s go find him, then,” I said.

Brady stayed behind to watch Fred, but we locked the door just in case. I don’t normally like to run errands myself, but with Joe out looking for Tanzeem and my lack of trust in just about everybody outside our business right now, I had no other options.

We stepped out the doors to the lower-grade side of the playground. I squinted in the bright glare of the low morning sun, and after my eyes adjusted to the light, I noticed that almost everyone was looking at us. It’s like in the movies when someone does something stupid or some guy walks into a bar or room he shouldn’t be in and the music stops and then everyone turns and looks at that guy. That’s how I felt just then.

We walked forward a few steps and the kids in front of us all backed away, forming a path. Their mouths hung open and their eyes were the size of hockey pucks. I don’t come outside much anymore because I’m usually too busy taking care of business in my office. I almost expected one kid to take off his jacket and lay it out on the ground in front of us so our shoes didn’t get dirty.

“Okay, you all need to mind your own business,” I said.

After a pause that I thought would last forever, the kids gradually turned away and resumed their games or conversations or whatever they had been doing.

Ears was known to hang around with a gossipy group of girls near the old metal slide. Kids stopped using that slide a while back because it was so slick that chances were you’d crash at the bottom and get a mouth full of gravel. Now, though, everybody stayed away from the slide entirely unless: A) you were a snarky girl with designer clothes; B) you were looking to get ridiculed by said girls; or C) you were a smooth-talking, good- looking guy with an actual chance to date one of the gossipy girls. I’m still not really sure why they tolerate Ears hanging around all the time, because he wasn’t all that good-looking or smooth-talking, but they did. There’s a lot about girls that I’m sure I’ll never understand.

“There he is,” I said as we stopped next to the teeter-totters.

Vince nodded.

Ears stood in the middle of the pack of girls as usual. He was talking and they were all listening intently, then suddenly he waved his arms around like he was telling some crazy story, and the girls burst out into snickers and giggles. Ears laughed and pointed at the shoes of one of the girls and said something and they all laughed even more. Except for the girl he pointed at—she just shuffled her feet as if she wanted to bury them into the ground.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Let’s do it,” Vince said.

As we approached the pack of girls, they turned and stared at us, whispering to each other and giggling. It was a little annoying.

I made eye contact with Ears. When he saw me, his eyes grew to the size of hubcaps. Then he tore away from the slide and went straight down the hill, his shoes skidding on the gravel.

Vince and I looked at each other and took off after him.

We both sprinted down the slope. I almost leaned forward too far and went down face-first into the hard ground, but Vince caught me and held me steady. At the bottom we veered right in pursuit of Ears, who was running across the football field toward the baseball diamond.

Ears had a good head start on us, and neither Vince nor I are track stars, but luckily Ears is pretty uncoordinated and was even slower. I had pulled ahead of Vince slightly and was getting ready to give up because I was so winded. Then Ears tripped and fell.

I pushed my legs just a little harder. Ears climbed back to his feet and kept running for the chain-link fence at the end of the field. I closed the distance quickly and dove for his legs. I wrapped my arms around his knees and he hit the ground hard.

I got up just as Vince got even with us. We lifted Ears to his feet by his jacket.

“Please, Mac, don’t hurt me. I’m sorry, Mac,” he said.

“What was that all about?” I asked, trying not to yell too harshly. He was still generally a good guy and a frequent employee, after all.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry,” he said between gasps for air.

I studied him as we all took a few moments to catch our breaths. His ears looked as huge as ever. But other than that, he was a mess. His eyes were droopy and puffy and his hair, tangled and greasy. If he was old enough to grow facial hair, he’d probably have had a mountain-man beard so huge that there’d be birds nested in it.

“What’s going on, Ears? You look terrible,” I said.

He shook his head and avoided my stare.

“Why didn’t you tell me about Staples, Ears? Huh?”

He just looked at his feet.

“You’re really in that deep? I don’t believe it,” I said.

He scratched his neck and grimaced. I could tell he felt horrible.

“Look, Mac, you see, the thing is . . . well, I happen to owe Staples a ton of money and . . . well, he said that he was going to kill my cat, Mac. And I really love little Nevernude. He’s the best cat ever, and the only way to get Staples to wipe clean my debt was . . . well . . .”

I sighed.

“Sorry, Mac. I promised Staples I wouldn’t help you anymore. I just can’t. I knew I never should have placed those bets,” he said, and then looked at the sky and shook his head.

“What else, Ears? You wouldn’t have run like that just because you agreed not to help me. You’re in even deeper, aren’t you?” I said.

Ears continued to avoid my stare. After a long pause he finally said, “I’m sorry, Mac. He asked me a bunch of questions about your business.”

“What did you tell him?”

“Just basic stuff, I guess. Like who works for you and where your office is, and I can’t . . . I shouldn’t even be telling you this much, Mac. He’ll kill Nevernude! I didn’t even want to help him, I swear, but . . . my cat. Haven’t you heard about some of the things he’s done? I heard a few years ago that he once kidnapped two cops and then made them eat three whole cases of doughnuts and two gallons of coffee and now they both have diabetes and no feet! What would you do if you were me?”

I shook my head. Kids can be so gullible. I mean, I was sure that
some
of the legends about Staples were true, but how could any kid believe that one?

“Whatever, Ears.” I said, and nodded at Vince. He released his grip on Ears’s jacket and stood next to me.

I shook my head and turned to leave.

“I’m sorry, Mac,” I heard Ears call out as we walked away.

I just waved my hand without stopping or looking back.

“We’re going to have to find out who the top guy is some other way,” I said as we headed back up the hill.

Vince sighed and took out his baseball and tossed it in the air.

“Any ideas?” I asked. “Still sure you don’t want to hire Tyrell for this one?”

Vince shook his head. “No, Mac. We just can’t be tossing around money like that. I think we should just go after Jacky Boy. If we put a little pressure on him, I bet he’d squeal. He’s kind of a little weasel.”

I nodded. Jacky Boy was a slimy little kid. But I couldn’t complain too much, because he was one of my best sources for getting test answers and copies of homework assignments and stuff like that. At the same time, it didn’t surprise me at all that he would become a bookie. That kid would do anything for money. Once he ate a pear covered in barbecue sauce for a dime. He’d probably eat his dog’s poop for a fiver.

“I got one for you,” Vince said as we reached the top of the hill.

“Now?”

“Sure, why not? Whose numbers are on the flags flying above the left and right field foul poles at Wrigley?” Vince asked.

Vince and I were always challenging each other with Cubs trivia. We each claimed to be the bigger fan, so we were always trying to prove it. The trick was to pop questions at the weirdest times, to catch each other off guard. The only rule was that you had to know the answer to any question you asked without having to look it up.

“Oh, come on. Billy Williams, Ron Santo, Ryne Sandberg, Greg Maddux, Fergie Jenkins, and Ernie Banks,” I said. “I thought you actually had a tough one for me.”

“I thought that
was
a tough one,” he said with a grin.

Joe was waiting outside my office when we got back. Tanzeem was not with him.

“What happened?” I asked as we went inside. Brady was reading a book and Fred was playing his Nintendo DS.

Then I looked at Joe. He was green, like cartoon characters look when they’re sick. I
thought he might blow chunks right there in my office. Right in the only stall in the school with no toilet. But he swallowed hard and I was pleased that words came out of his mouth and not his lunch.

“They got to him,” he said.

“Who?”

“Must have been some of Staples’s guys. Tanzeem got jumped outside of school this morning; they were just waiting for him. I saw him in the nurse’s office, Mac, and he was pretty messed up. It was so bad that the nurse sent him home,” Joe said.

“Whoa,” I said. The school didn’t send kids home unless it was really bad.

Joe nodded, looking ill again.

Staples had taken out Tanzeem before I could even talk to him. Which meant that he had known about my plan to hire him. Which led me to believe that Staples possibly had a spy or maybe an informant, or some other way that he was getting information.

“Well, we’re just going to have to do this ourselves, then. We’ll be Fred’s personal bodyguards. He’ll just stay here with us every lunch and recess,” I said.

I didn’t like where this was headed. It almost made me want to go to the principal, but I couldn’t. Mr. Dickerson wouldn’t get it. He would only make things worse somehow.

Chapter 6

A
fter school that day Joe, Vince, and I walked Fred home. We were two blocks from our school and two from Fred’s house, exactly halfway, when they stepped out from behind the shrubs and onto the sidewalk. There were five of them total: Barnaby Willis and four high schoolers.

Two wore baggy clothes and had long hair. They had a dangerous look to them, like they wouldn’t think twice before punching a little kid in the face. The other two were athlete types with spiky hair and polo shirts. Barnaby wore the same clothes he had on this morning and also a look of revenge.

Now, Joe is a big guy, the biggest at our school. In fact, he was even bigger than two of the four high school kids in front of us. But he is only an eighth grader, and there is only one of him. We weren’t going to be able to fight our way out of this.

“Hey, hey, hey, look what we have here,” one of the high schoolers said.

“Yeah, I thought I smelled a rat,” said another.

“Oh no,” Fred said, tugging at my sleeve. “That’s Staples’s posse. They do all of his dirtiest work. We’re in trouble now, Mac.”

I already knew that we were in trouble.

“Who are your new friends, rat?” asked another of the high schoolers.

“Wait, wait . . . I know you. You’re that problem-solver guy,” said a spiky-haired kid. “It just so happens that I have a problem. Can you help me?”

I just stared at him.

“You see, my problem is that I have a rat and a quitter to deal with, and I don’t know how exactly to go about it. On one hand, I could set a trap. I could trick this quitter-rat-snitch and then squish him when he’s least expecting it. Or on the other hand, I could just get a stick and take care of this rat problem right out in the open. What do you think, Mr. Problem-Solver Guy? MacGyver, isn’t it?”

The other high schoolers laughed at this.

I just kept staring at him. At this point I figured he must be PJ, the guy Fred had said was second in command to Staples.

“Yeah, that’s a tough one, isn’t it?” PJ continued. “I guess the best way might just be to pound him into the ground. After all, the more simple a plan is, the less that can go wrong, right?”

He started walking toward us. The other four followed. They walked slowly but with a purpose.

“Split up,” I yelled, and grabbed Fred’s arm.

Fred and I ran to our right, across the Andersons’ front lawn. I didn’t see where Joe and Vince went. I pulled at Fred’s arm to help him keep up with me. We ran around the side of the house to the backyard. Fred breathed hard, struggling to keep up. I could hear at least two of the five high school kids following us, their heavy footsteps pounding the soft grass. I tried not to think about what would happen when they caught us.

And they
would
catch us. Fred’s legs were just too short to outrun high school kids. Not only that, but our backpacks were weighing us down, too. I veered right and headed for the corner of the next house. I pulled Fred along, hoping he wouldn’t fall. We turned the corner sharply and then I dropped to the ground, pulling Fred down with me.

I sat with my backpack to the house and listened to our pursuers’ approaching footsteps. As soon as I heard them near the corner, I stuck out my leg and held my breath. The one in the lead never saw it coming. I felt a sharp stab of pain in my shin as his feet tangled under my leg and he went sprawling. PJ was running too close behind to stop. He didn’t have time to react, and his legs tangled up with the first kid’s. They grunted as their bodies collided with the ground in front of us.

I lifted Fred to his feet.

“Run!” I said.

“But, Mac—”

“Fred, just go!” I yelled, and gave him a shove. He took off through the bushes and disappeared behind a fence.

I turned to face my pursuers, who were just getting to their feet. I made sure that I stayed between them and where Fred had run.

“Go get the little rat. I’ll deal with this one,” PJ said.

The other kid made a move to get by me and I stepped in front of him. He grabbed my shoulders and threw me to the ground and then ran after Fred. I started to get to my feet, but PJ lifted me up first. He slammed me against the house and held me there by the shoulders. The edge of one of my textbooks pressed painfully into my lower back.

“So you think you can get away with tripping me?” PJ said. His breath was hot on my face. It smelled like rotting pizza. I squirmed. “What’s the matter? You want to get away?”

“Yeah, your breath smells. Don’t you ever brush your teeth?” I said.

“Whoa, look at that. You’re just a little punk, aren’t you? Staples is going to have a lot of fun with you,” he said. “But not before I do first.”

“We’ll see,” I said.

“I was going to go easy on you but not anymore,” he said, still pinning me to the side of the house.

I was just starting to formulate a plan when I saw Fred come out of nowhere. He ran right up behind PJ with his backpack reared back to strike. I instinctively flinched as Fred started swinging it toward PJ.

The next thing I knew I was on my feet and PJ was on the ground holding his side.

“Come on,” I said, and grabbed Fred’s arm.

We ran back toward the alley. My shin and back ached and I wanted to stop, but I forced myself to keep going. I led us around the next house and across the street. We crouched behind a bush.

I peeked back through the leaves.

PJ stood up and grabbed his ribs. He bent over and it looked like he was trying to catch his breath. Then after a few moments, he calmly walked toward the street, away from where we hid.

PJ met up with the kid who’d chased Fred after I’d tripped them. The kid shook his head and raised his palms to the sky. PJ shoved him and said something harshly. The other kid shook his head again. Then they walked down the street and out of view.

“How did you get away?” I asked as we remained hidden in the bushes.

“I just hid and he ran right by me. He’s kind of dumb,” Fred said.

“Thanks, Fred. You really saved me.”

Fred just shrugged, but I thought I saw him blush.

We waited in the bushes to make sure the coast was clear. My shin and back still ached. I felt pretty helpless. That was twice in one day that I had been cornered and then rescued. I didn’t know whether to feel lucky I had good friends or ashamed that I couldn’t defend myself.

After I was convinced that Staples’s posse was really gone, we headed toward Fred’s house. I dropped him off, making sure he was safely inside, and then I jogged to Joe’s backyard.

We had agreed long ago to meet there if we were ever split up unexpectedly. Vince’s trailer park was the farthest away, near this neighborhood called the Creek. It was the dirtiest, shadiest neighborhood in town and everybody knew that that’s where you went if you needed drugs or something like that. Pretty much everybody stayed away from the Creek unless they lived there. And my house wasn’t a good option because that’s where we hid the Funds. In a time of panic or danger why would we want to lead anyone there?

When I got to his house, I found Joe sitting calmly on the stump of a tree that had been cut down a few years ago. Joe had convinced his dad not to dig up the stump and it became Joe’s favorite chair. He always called dibs on it long before Vince or I could even open our mouths.

“Hey, Mac,” he said.

I nodded at him. It looked like he’d put up a good fight. He had a reddish purple eye and his lower lip was a little swollen.

“You okay?” I asked.

“Oh yeah, fine. I’m kind of worried about Vince, though,” he said.

Joe was one tough guy, that was for sure. I didn’t think I would be so calm after getting punched in the face. I didn’t think any kid could be so calm after getting punched. It’s moments like this that make me pretty happy he’s on my side.

“What happened to Vince?” I asked.

Vince was a funny guy, and he was super smart and good with money and numbers, but like I said before, he’s not very good at confrontations. He usually just avoids them altogether. Joe caught his breath while I looked out into the street. I didn’t see any sign of Vince. Joe’s house was only a few blocks from where it had all happened, so Vince should have been there by now.

“What happened, Joe?” I asked again, trying not to sound as panicked as I felt.

“Well, the other three came right after me first and Vince ran. I think Barnaby wanted revenge, because basically the two high schoolers held me down while Barnaby pounded me like a punching bag. But then Vince came back. He shouted at them to get their attention and then he started making fun of them. He really let them have it, too. It was pretty funny. Anyways, one of the high schoolers went after Vince and that’s the last I saw of him. But he saved my butt, because once it was down to just two, I was able to fend them off pretty easily. After I got a few punches in, the chickens took off just like Willis did this morning,” Joe finished. That sounded like Vince; he was basically the least glamorous hero that ever existed.

“We should go look for him,” I said.

“I’m sure he’s okay, Mac. He had a decent head start.”

I nodded. And we needed to wait there because that’s our protocol if we get split up in a pinch. But it wasn’t as easy as it sounds. Just sitting there while Vince was possibly in danger was basically torture.

We waited for almost ten minutes, but it seemed like ten days. I was starting to get so worried that I thought I might cry, which would have been embarrassing. I kept picturing the horrible things those high school kids might’ve been doing to Vince right at that very moment. All the while Vince would probably be trying to make jokes, too.

Finally, Vince showed up. He came walking casually into the backyard from the street. He looked okay, as far as I could tell.

“What took you?” I asked. Though, really, I didn’t care. I was just relieved he’d made it back in one piece.

“I just wanted to make sure it was all clear. Are you okay?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Thanks for helping me out, Vince,” Joe said.

“What happened? Didn’t he get you?” I asked Vince.

He shook his head and laughed.

“It was close, but I got away. When he came after me, I ran faster than I ever have before. He chased me all the way down to Pete’s house. He was going to catch me, too, but I knew that if I got to Pete’s house his mom would be outside gardening. And I knew that he wouldn’t dare touch me with some lady watching.”

Pete’s mom was obsessed with her garden. One time we were over at his house playing baseball in the street and the ball landed in her garden. She screamed at us and then picked the ball up and threw it on the roof. She was kind of crazy.

“So she was outside, then?” I asked.

“Is the Pope Catholic?”

“I don’t know, is he?”

“Yeah. My grandma always says the Pope is Gouda, but I think that’s a cheese and not a religion,” Vince said while grinning. “Did you get Fred home okay?”

“Yeah, the little kid actually saved me.”

“You were saved by a third grader,” Joe said.

Vince laughed.

“Whatever,” I said. “What matters is that this is bigger than just Fred now. We’re in for a fight. A dirty one.”

Joe and Vince nodded.

This was nowhere close to being worth twenty bucks. But I had a reputation to uphold. And Fred needed my help. He had saved me back there. Not many third graders would have had the courage to do that.

Tomorrow we had to start thinking about ourselves. We would get revenge for what they had done to Joe and for the attack this morning. We obviously had more to worry about than just protecting Fred now. Or even just protecting ourselves. The whole school was at risk. Staples was dangerous, and he wasn’t going to just shut down his operation on his own.

Besides, what else did I expect? I couldn’t just keep protecting Fred forever. Eventually I’d run out of money. Eventually more kids would come to me for help with Staples. We couldn’t live like this. The only way to end this was to get Staples out of my school for good. We definitely needed to do more than simply protect Fred; we needed to take down Staples.