Hunting Michael Underwood

by L V Gaudet

  “Would you like coffee?” Kathy asks. “I have some cookies too.”

  “Scout troop cookies?” Trevor asks hopefully. “I love their cookies.” He laughs. “No, of course you don’t. They only go around selling them once a year or something.”

  Kathy blushes, thinking how it’s almost like he knew.

  “Um, I do have some scout troop cookies,” she says shyly. “I don’t know what troop they are, but a couple girls came by earlier selling cookies. I bought a couple boxes.”

  Trevor smiles even bigger. “Wonderful!”

  He watches her while Kathy self-consciously puts coffee on. She gets cups and they sit in awkward silence while the coffeemaker gurgles and dribbles its brew into the pot.

  When the coffee is finally done, they sit at the kitchen table with their coffees and a box of cookies.

  Trevor seems to have no limit in coming up with things to say. He keeps his distance, staying friendly and casual, and showing no undue interest in Kathy. They have a second cup of coffee and she is feeling totally at ease with her new friend.

  Trevor looks down regretfully at his empty second cup.

  “I really should be going now. Tell Ryan to give me a call when he gets in.”

  Kathy blushes guiltily and looks down, her hands fidgeting. She looks up at him again.

  “When I said I wasn’t sure when Ryan is coming back, I meant I’m not sure what day. He said maybe four days, but it could be longer.”

  Her eyes are pleading with him to not be angry with her for the little lie by omission.

  His expression is understanding.

  “You just moved here, no family. No friends either, huh? You must be feeling pretty lonely, especially if he’s gone for almost a week.”

  Kathy nods, feeling a little sad now.

  “Don’t worry,” Trevor says. “Ryan is my friend and that makes you my friend too.”

  He gets up to leave, pausing to look at her.

  Kathy gets up to show him out.

  “I’ll be back to see that everything is okay,” he says. “I’m sure Ryan would do the same for me.”

  Once he is gone and the door is closed behind him, Kathy peeks out the window surreptitiously, watching him walk away.

  Michael pulls into the parking lot of a truck stop diner just off the highway. There is nothing else there; just a diner with an over-sized parking lot to accommodate all the big rigs next to a gas station. His truck box is empty of the large plastic drums.

  There are half a dozen semis in the lot and a couple of scattered cars and trucks.

  Michael walks into the diner and looks around, spotting Anderson sitting at a small table against the wall near the back.

  The waitress sees him and starts in his direction, but Michael redirects her. He nods to her and points to the coffee pot sitting on the burner, then continues on towards Anderson’s table. She is an older woman, matronly and plump.

  He takes the empty seat.

  “How did it go?” Anderson asks.

  “The man has no business in this,” Michael mutters. “His car was a mess. He was a mess.”

  He pauses, looking up to see the waitress approaching, and waits.

  “You want anything with that coffee?” she asks as she pours the coffee into the cup on the table. “Breakfast? Lunch? Danish?”

  “No, just coffee is fine thank you,” Michael says.

  Her expression changes. He catches her disappointment and changes his mind.

  “No, wait. Actually I’ll take a sandwich. Roast beef or pastrami or whatever you have on rye with mustard and one of those Danishes too. That sounds pretty good. Just wrap it to go at the counter. I’ll grab it on my way out.”

  She smiles and nods, going away happily.

  Anderson watches her go. Keeping the waitress happy, he thinks. She won’t be thinking later about the guy who came in just for a coffee. Meal is a bigger tip.

  He turns his attention back to Michael. “So, it didn’t go so well?”

  “The package was past ripe,” Michael says with a scowl. “He wouldn’t touch it. I had to do it all myself. I had to clean up his car too.”

  Anderson shrugs. “Maybe you should have just left it. Let him go down.”

  “I should have.”

  “Are you still holding the package?”

  “I’ve already taken care of it.”

  Anderson nods.

  “I’ll contact you when I have another job for you Michael.”

  A warning bell goes off in Michael’s head. They don’t use names. Anderson would know that.

  He’s toying with me.

  Anderson pauses, studying Michael’s reaction.

  “Oh, but you go by Ryan Crowley now. I’ll remember that.” It’s a dismissal.

  Michael bristles at that. Someone could overhear the name and repeat it to the authorities if questioned. He carefully keeps his expression bland.

  Michael gets up, leaving his half drank coffee, and heads for the counter at the front. He grabs his sandwich and Danish, paying the waitress and leaving an average tip, and leaves.

  He gets in the truck and starts the long drive home, wishing he’s already there, thinking about Kathy there all alone.

  “Soon. A couple more jobs, then I can ask Anderson about letting you come.”

  Anderson’s use of his name and the intended jab letting him know he knows Michael’s current alias hovers at the back of his mind.

  He’s putting me on notice, letting me know he’s thoroughly checked me out. And that he’s not above cutting me loose too maybe.

  Kathy keeps looking at the door.

  I need to find something to do to keep myself busy. I have nothing. The house is spotless. I already cleaned and re-cleaned it.

  I miss Michael. I’m so bored and lonely.

  Ryan. He’s Ryan Crowley now. Remember that. You have to start thinking of him as that all the time now. Me too. I’m Elaine, always Elaine Carver now.

  Worse than forgetting to think of them as their new identities, is that her mind keeps turning to Ryan’s friend Trevor.

  He is so friendly and nice. I like him. She is thinking of him in a friend way.

  The thought makes another come unwanted, the vision of Trevor leaning down to her, his lips touching hers. She pushes it away, knowing it’s nothing more than a product of her loneliness. She has no desire to either cheat on or lose Ryan, and has none for his friend.

  Elaine gets up and walks to the window, looking out for Ryan’s truck for what she thinks must be the millionth time since he left. She makes herself turn away and go sit on the couch. He won’t be home for a few days still.

  She looks around the fairly empty room.

  “Maybe I can talk to Ryan about getting a TV.”

  She jumps at the unexpected knock at the door.

  Elaine approaches the door warily.

  Michael would not have knocked. Ryan, she mentally reminds herself yet again.

  Trevor? Her heart quickens at the thought and she catches herself smiling.

  She opens the door and there he is.

  “Hi, just checking up on you like I said I would,” Trevor says.

  Elaine only now realizes how much she missed Trevor since meeting him. Has it really been only two days?

  “I brought you something,” Trevor says, pulling something from behind his back with a smile.

  “I saw it and I remembered that you said you liked it and haven’t had it in a long time.”

  Elaine looks at the bag in his hands uncertainly.

  What could it be? I don’t remember telling him about anything in particular, but we talked about so many things. It felt like talking to a long-lost friend.

  He holds it out, urging her to take it.

  Elaine takes it and opens the bag.

  The picture of golden sponge-cake with soft gooey creamy filling oozing out where it is cut open and the rich chocolate icing coating is like looking at a moment of pure happiness.

  Sh
e squeals with delight and hurries to the kitchen with her prize.

  “I’ll make some coffee,” she says.

  Trevor reaches behind him to grab another bag on the ground and brings it in, taking it into the kitchen and putting it on the counter.

  “I know it’s not easy getting around to do your groceries on foot,” he says. “I brought you a few other things too.”

  “I-I don’t know what to say,” Kathy stammers in shock. “Thank you. Tell me how much I owe you and I’ll pay you.”

  “Nothing. Just helping out a friend. Excuse me a minute, I need to use the bathroom.”

  Elaine nods as she happily digs into the bag on the counter. There are things in here she would not have thought to buy, not when they have to watch every penny. She feels spoiled and it feels good.

  Trevor slips into the bathroom and closes the door with an audible click. He opens it slowly, careful to be silent, stepping out and peeking towards the kitchen. The bathroom is only a ruse.

  He watches to make sure Elaine is busy putting the groceries away while the coffee brews, silently closes the bathroom door, and slips into the bedroom. He looks around and quickly spots what he’s looking for.

  Trevor digs through her dirty laundry. Picking out a pair of her underwear, he brings it up to his nose and sniffs it long and slow, then pockets it and returns to the bathroom, silently slipping inside and closing the door. He flushes the toilet and runs the water so Elaine thinks he’s washing his hands.

  Trevor returns to the kitchen.

  The coffee just finished brewing and Elaine is pouring two cups at the small kitchen table. They sit across from each other, talking over coffee and golden sponge cake.

  Elaine can’t stop smiling.

  Trevor is almost giddy with excitement and has a hard time controlling himself.

  Stay calm, be casual, he keeps reminding himself while he shares cake and coffee with the woman who belongs to his enemy.

  His cup empty, Trevor quickly makes excuses and leaves when Elaine moves to fill it again.

  “I have to go. I have some errands to run,” he says, getting up from his chair.

  Elaine sees him out, a little sorry to see him go.

  It’s going to be a long lonely wait for Ryan to come home, she thinks.

  Ryan stops at a burger joint in a medium sized town halfway home. He needs a break from driving so he goes in to eat instead of ordering to go. After hungrily devouring the grease-sodden burger that sits too heavily in his stomach, he decides to go for a walk to stretch his legs. He feels stiff from the long hours spent driving.

  “I have a reborn appreciation for those guys who do long distance driving for a living.”

  He walks aimlessly to the corner, crossing the street and heading down another street with no destination in mind.

  That’s when he spots her.

  He stops.

  “Cassie.”

  “No, it’s not her. It can’t be. She’s gone.”

  She is skipping along the road humming to herself, long hair bouncing behind her. She is the age Cassie would have been the day he ran away from the McAllister farm if she had not had that accident a few years before.

  The Cassie he has never seen. She has grown in those few years, but she’s still so small and frail looking.

  The world fades away, leaving nothing but the girl.

  Ryan is Michael again, watching the two girls play hopscotch as the little dog jumps at them. Cassie is younger. He doesn’t recognize the other girl.

  Michael is David again, a child himself. He is confused.

  “Where are we? We’re going to be in a lot of trouble. We’re not allowed to leave the farm.”

  He starts walking faster.

  “I have to get Cassie and get us both back to the farm before he finds out we’re gone.”

  The other girl and the dog are gone. The hopscotch crudely drawn in chalk is gone. The street is gone. Cassie is bigger again and the street is different. He doesn’t recognize it. Cassie is skipping happily along by herself down the street away from him.

  He blinks in confusion.

  “Where did the other girl go? The dog? Never mind, I can’t worry about that right now. I have to get Cassie and find our way back to the farm fast.”

  The girl pauses in her skipping down the road when she hears a noise behind her. She turns and sees the man walking towards her. She would have thought nothing of it, but he has a strange look on his face, determined, and he’s staring right at her.

  Cassie turns and looks directly at him, seeing him, but he sees no recognition in her eyes.

  The girl has an uneasy feeling. She turns back and picks up her pace. She hears the man behind her speed up too.

  Ryan who is Michael who is David wants to call out to her, but has a sense he shouldn’t.

  What if he’s around here somewhere? Papa. He’ll catch us away from the farm and punish us.

  She looks back at him again, walking faster.

  Cassie speeds up and he does too.

  She’s playing games with me, trying to stay ahead of me.

  She turns and looks behind her again and starts jogging.

  “Cassie, stop it,” he mutters under his breath, gritting his teeth and speeding up.

  She looks behind her again and the look on his face sends fear racing through her, her heart beating fast. She heard about kidnappers. Suddenly she is absolutely certain this man means to hurt her. She starts running, tears streaming down her cheeks.

  He runs too.

  She puts her head down, trying to run faster.

  He puts on an extra burst of speed, closing the gap.

  She feels the sharp jab of pain in her side from running and almost trips. She is gasping, winded from both fear and the run, gulping mouthfuls of air.

  He’s going to catch me! He’s getting closer!

  She has only a vague idea of the things strangers do to kids they kidnap. Most of it was left to her own imagination, but she has a feeling there is something much worse that the adults do not tell you about.

  She passes a large RV blocking the view of the houses up the street on that side and sees a man in a yard wearing heavy work gloves and a baseball hat shovelling gravel from a wheelbarrow onto his driveway.

  She almost cries out with relief. She doesn’t know him, but she recognizes him as the dad of one of the boys two grades higher at school.

  She changes direction, running for him, sobbing so hard she can’t talk.

  The man looks up to see the girl running at him, tears streaming down her face with a stricken look that raises an instant alarm in him.

  She is gulping air and coughing and crying, almost collapsing when she reaches him. Her voice is coming out cracking unintelligible sounds.

  “What’s the matter?” he asks, looking past her and half expecting to see a dog chasing her or a gang of kids tormenting her.

  She blubbers and gasps, unable to make any words come out, and points.

  Ryan comes running past the RV and skids almost to a stop, staring at the girl.

  The girl jerks her arm back and forth, pointing at him. Her meaning is clear.

  “Is that your dad?”

  She shakes her head “no”.

  “Do you know him?”

  Again, she shakes her head “no”.

  The man shovelling clenches the shovel tighter in his fists and steps forward menacingly.

  Ryan who is Michael who is David stumbles towards Cassie in confusion.

  This is all wrong.

  He sees the man with the shovel tighten his grip on it. There is violence in the man’s body language and a threat in his expression as he steps forward.

  “What do you want?” the man with the shovel says in a cold voice.

  “I-I just,” Ryan manages, his mind unable to figure out what to say. He looks past the man to Cassie and is drawn back to the man.

  “Who are you?” the man demands. “I haven’t seen you around here before.”
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  “David,” Ryan manages. He looks down, scuffing his toe, and stops to stare at his own feet in shock.

  They are so big! My legs too. He holds out his hands, staring at them. They are big! A man’s hands!

  “But, but,” he stumbles the words out, finishing in his mind… I’m just a boy.

  The man with the shovel watches the stranger scuff the ground with a toe and can’t help thinking the man is like a child. A chill goes through him as he watches the man inspect himself with a lost look of confusion.

  “Enough of this,” he mutters.

  Holding the shovel threateningly, he takes another step forward.

  “Get out of here, buddy,” he growls, “or you are going to get this.” He raises the shovel to make sure his meaning is clear.

  Did I say my name is David? Michael thinks. He looks around, turning back to the man, unsure where he is. Why is that man holding a shovel and looking at me like he’s about to beat me with it? Ryan, I have to remember to say Ryan. That’s my name now.

  The man steps forward again, ready to swing the shovel.

  Ryan sees the girl standing behind him now, shaking and pale, tears flowing and staring at him in fear.

  He turns and runs back the way he came, back towards his truck, his legs shaky and weak and his stomach sick.

  What is going on? he thinks wildly.

  He is out of breath when he reaches his truck. He gets in and tears out of there without looking back to see if the man with the shovel is chasing him. He can’t get to the highway fast enough.

  Once he is on the highway he can finally breathe again, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he tries to catch his breath. He grips the steering wheel too hard, knuckles white and hands trembling.

  “Okay, breathe, calm down,” he pants.

  He looks at Cassie in the passenger seat beside him. Little Cassie.

  How did I ever think that other girl is her? She is older than Cassie. I followed that girl, but I don’t know why. It’s like it all happened in a fog now.

  “You have to stop doing that,” Cassie says.

  Ryan turns his attention to the road ahead, but he can feel her eyes boring into him.

  “You have to stop thinking they are me,” she says. “I’m gone. I’m dead.”