by R. J. Ladon
“It’s good business.” He smiled. “Remember the rules?”
Megan nodded. “Questions directed to the instructor only. No names, don’t ask, don’t give.”
Nikolai smiled over his steepled fingers. “Class has already started.” He gestured with his hand.
Megan opened the door and walked through. The lights were dim with a spotlight on the instructor. He was the same Mr. Smith that Megan had seen talking to Nikolai the other day. She found an empty table with a single chair. She looked around at the other students, curious. Everyone sat at individual tables, and the room was dark, except for the spotlight. The lighting, and the apparent disguises, made it difficult to identify anyone with certainty.
Only two other women were in the room. The rest were men. No surprise there. However, the fellow directly across from her looked like the man in the Honda Civic from the other night. She narrowed her eyes, trying to remember. His grey hair and light, stubbly beard matched his eyes. He was thin, neither strong nor scrawny, and he was bold enough not to wear any disguise.
“Any questions?” The instructor asked. He had finished soldering a wire to an electronic board, a marshaling board if she remembered right. No one responded. Most wanted to keep their anonymity. If they had questions, they might hire the instructor for a private lesson.
Mr. Smith continued talking. Megan saw the style of timing device many times in the past. The instructor was from the U.S. military. The application he taught appeared to be old information. Feeling bored, she looked at her fellow students again. The man across from her looked back with a hard-lingering stare. Megan stood and left the room. She felt the man’s eyes follow her.
Nikolai was at the front desk. “Everything alright?”
“No.” Megan shook her head. “Something’s wrong. I don’t know.” Megan looked back at the closed door. “You’ve always told me to trust my gut. My gut told me to leave.”
“One of the students?”
Megan nodded. “I thought I saw him the other night. He might be following me.” She stepped away from the desk and left the building.
She leaned her back on the door, taking a deep breath, opening her senses, making her feel hyper-vigilant. Crickets chirped, the air was humid, and the scent of mold prominent. Her feet on the pavement crunched on stray loose gravel.
She climbed in her car, took off the wig, and drove home. As she drove, she entertained the idea of getting Bonnie and going to the library. She decided against it because Nikolai would tell Artem what happened, and her father would wonder why she didn’t come straight home.
Megan pulled into the garage and turned off her car. She relaxed. She was home. Where was her father? She went inside and found him watching television. “Did Nikolai call?”
“No.” Artem muted the television and turned to face his daughter. “Should he have?”
“I don’t know.” She looked at her feet and fidgeted with her keys. “I could be overly cautious.”
Artem nodded. “That’s okay, better to be cautious than dead.” He turned off the television and patted the couch next to him. “Tell me what happened.”
Megan sat. “I went to the lesson, and I thought I recognized the man in the car from last night. What’s weird is he seemed to recognize me too.” She shuddered. “I may have over-reacted because no one has ever looked at me during a class before. Not like that.”
“I see.” Artem went into the kitchen, where Megan heard him on his phone. “Nikolai, it’s me. What happened? I see. Can you verify? I see. Good. Very well.” He reappeared and sat on the couch next to Megan.
“Dorogoy, you did the right thing. Always follow your gut.” Artem hugged Megan and kissed her forehead.
“What about the guy?”
“Everyone at the lesson has been checked, vetted, and confirmed. A diligent process was conducted to ensure the safety of anyone who goes to the gym. Nikolai is standing behind that procedure.”
“Are you saying I over-reacted?”
“Who am I to say? You did the right thing.” Artem hugged her again. “I’m proud of your decision. You came home alive.”
She stood and went to her bedroom. Megan wanted to confide in Bonnie, but the phone was in the kitchen. She wasn’t allowed to take it to school, in her car, or to her room. Artem always told her she couldn’t have friends because they were dangerous. Megan hated uncertainty and fear. Was the man a threat? Was it just her imagination? She couldn’t wait to take control of her life once she graduated and moved out.
She stopped the car in front of Bonnie’s house. Her father would be displeased with the amount of time she spent with her friend. Megan gripped the steering wheel tightly, resting her head on her hands.
Bonnie knocked on the passenger door window. “You okay?” She shouted through the glass.
Megan looked at her and smiled. She unlocked the door.
Bonnie sat with her book bag in her lap. “You’ll never guess what I found last night.”
“You went to the library without me?” Megan clutched at her heart like it was breaking.
Bonnie rolled her eyes. “Of course not. I searched from home.”
“From home? That’s not safe.” Megan covered her mouth. “Aw, shit, I’m sorry, that’s something my father would say. Let’s try that again.” She fluffed her hair and cleared her throat. “What did you find?” She tried to be supportive but couldn’t get her father’s paranoid voice out of her head.
“Annie has a criminal record.” Bonnie bounced in the car seat, barely able to keep in her excitement. “She’s eighteen. Everything is online, including her juvenile record. It’s public.”
Megan stared at Bonnie, speechless. Annie was more dangerous than she imagined.
“Everything,” Bonnie repeated, wiggling her fingers like some magician. She frowned. “Come on! Aren’t you going to ask any questions?”
“Sorry, I…I guess I’m in shock.” Megan turned over her engine and slid the gear into drive. “Tell me everything.”
“At least ten endangering-a-minor charges. Although I have no idea what that means. The Fredricks adopted her this past summer. I can’t find anything on her birth parents, the Browns. It’s like they turned to mist and blew away.”
Megan parked the car and turned off the engine. “What’s that mean? Did her parents die, or did they give her up?”
“There is no record. Nada.” Bonnie held up her finger. “Better yet, why did the Fredricks adopt her when she’s eighteen? Can you even be adopted at that age?” She raised her eyebrow.
Megan tapped her bottom lip. “Could it be because she’s still in school? It sounds like we need to do more research. How do you feel about going to the library tonight?”
“I’m in!” Bonnie opened her door. Megan followed, and they walked into the school together.
Megan’s eyes narrowed as she spotted Annie walking with Tony to his locker. She poked Bonnie and nodded in Annie’s direction. “Feel like eavesdropping?”
“Let’s do this,” Bonnie said. She glanced down the hall to spot teachers.
The girls walked together to a section of lockers near Tony’s. Bonnie picked one at random and rolled a combination. She tried three numbers and lifted the handle. It didn’t open. “Damn it,” she said aloud, thumping the locker.
Megan turned so her back faced Annie, which allowed her to listen in and block what Bonnie was doing.
“I don’t like it any more than you, but I have to do it today,” Annie said.
“What about the fish? He’ll be suspicious.”
“Fish? Really?”
“Would you prefer, flunky? Bootlicker?” Tony disapproved of whoever Annie was chasing.
“Look, he’s only a means to an end. I have to get in the good graces of his sisters.”
“Why not just go after the sisters directly?”
“Because they’re not in high school, and you know my talents don’t extend to females.”
“Hey!” A big guy slammed h
is fist into the locker Bonnie was trying to open. “What do you think you’re doing? This is my locker.”
“Is it?” Bonnie grinned. She looked at a piece of paper and then glanced at the locker number. She said, “Oh, I’m sorry. You’re right. Won’t happen again.”
“Damn right, it won’t!” The big guy pointed up the hall. He leaned into Bonnie and whispered, “Get.”
Bonnie squealed and trotted off in the direction he pointed.
Megan followed on Bonnie’s heels, looking back. Annie stared daggers at her and Bonnie. “Shit.” Megan moved to Bonnie’s side. “We’ve been made.”
Chapter 13
H e walked into Russian History, the last class of the day. While the course was interesting, it was merely a device to boost Kevin’s GPA. There were a few tests, but they only counted for ten percent of his grade. Participation and engagement received more percentage points. It was an easy A.
The final bell rang, and the students bolted for the door, except for Megan, a quiet girl who kept to herself. Mr. Mulligan leaned over her and pointed at a map on her desk.
Kevin approached the teacher. “Mr. Mulligan, I found a stone in my Grandma’s attic. It appears to have writing on it. Do you know what the writing is?”
Mr. Mulligan gave Kevin a sideways glance. “Did you try to find out for yourself?” His finger remained pointing to the word Tunguska on an old map of Russia.
“Yes. I looked at the books I had. I know they aren’t Runes.”
Megan looked up at what Kevin said. “May I see it?” She held out her hand, pushing the map aside to make room.
Kevin wrinkled his brow.
“If anyone is going to know, it’ll be Megan, here,” Mr. Mulligan said. “Her father works at the Field Museum in Chicago.”
Reluctantly Kevin handed over the stone.
Megan rolled it over in her hands. She looked up at Kevin, squinting. “Have you ever been to the Field Museum?”
Kevin shrugged. “Yea, sure, I guess. I went with the school. All-day field trip.”
“Recently?”
“Fifth grade. Seven years ago.”
Megan nodded. “Someone from China let the museum borrow their collection of stones for Halloween. They look identical to yours.” She smiled. “I almost thought you stole one.”
“Me? Steal? You’ve never met my mother.” Kevin smiled, chuckling. “She’d kill me.”
Her eyes widened. “You’ve got strict parents too?”
“Not strict exactly. My mom’s got high expectations.”
Megan gave him a half-smile, tilting her head slightly. “So, if you didn’t steal it, where did you find it?
“Inside my grandmother’s book.”
“Inside a book?” Megan leaned forward, interested.
Kevin sat at the desk near hers. “The book was titled Gemstones of the World. Inside was a box with that stone.”
“Was the stone labeled?”
“The box had “protection stone” written on it.”
Megan’s eyes lit up. “Did it?” She cleared her throat. “Does the gemstone book have anything to do with witchcraft?”
Kevin frowned. His eyes darted between Megan and Mr. Mulligan. Could he say? People were funny about religion. “It’s part of my grandmother’s Wiccan things.”
Megan nodded. “The Chinese owner said the stones are a witch’s protection talisman. But I don’t think they know anything about Wicca. My father is itching to find out what is written on the stones, but he isn’t allowed to touch them. May I get a rubbing?”
“Sure, I guess.” Kevin shrugged.
She laid paper over the rock, and with her pencil, rubbed the side of the lead on the paper. The carving's dips and valleys appeared white, and where the stone remained, carbon from the pencil marked the paper. “Oh, nice,” she said as she turned the stone and continued the rubbing. “See the pennant or arrow shapes?”
“Yes.”
“This is cuneiform writing. That’s how cuneiform got its name. It means wedge-shaped. Sometimes people mistake it for ogham, which is Old Irish and completely different.” Megan finished the rubbing and handed the stone back to Kevin.
Kevin felt his heart leap. “Can you read it?” He looked at the stone and back to her paper, which was much clearer.
“Well, it’s not that easy,” Megan stated.
“Cuneiform is complicated.” Mr. Mulligan interjected as he went to the board. “It’s five thousand years old. You could try and translate it, I suppose.” He marked a few symbols on the board. “Each mark or group of marks make up a syllable or sound. But sometimes they’re words and not sounds at all. You won’t know either way unless you know the subject of the text.
“To make matters worse, they didn’t use a space between words or sounds. So it is hard to know where words begin or end. The language should be either Sumerian or Acadian, but there is no guarantee. Odds of you finding someone who can speak either of those languages and translate it into English…well, they’re slim. At least, around here, it’s slim.”
Kevin looked at Megan. “What about your father?”
Megan narrowed her eyes and frowned. “He can translate Sumerian and Acadian, but don’t get your hopes up.” She looked at the board. “What Mr. Mulligan said is true. The hardest part will be figuring out the subject matter. But to find the subject, you need to know the language and make some assumptions. It’s a chicken and egg situation. Which comes first?” She shrugged. “I can show him the rubbing and let you know.”
“Thank you.” Kevin turned to leave. “How long do you think that will take?” He’d paused in the doorway to look back.
“I don’t know, but I’ll bug him because I’m curious too. There’s something special written there.”
“Really?” Kevin asked. Something special could be something worth money.
“Don’t get too excited,” Mr. Mulligan said. “Might be a grave marker or a tax decree.”
“Still, that would be fascinating,” Megan said. “A Neolithic grave marker would be one of a kind. Most cuneiform was written on clay tablets. Someone took time to write something important on that stone. Don’t lose it. It could be valuable.”
Kevin reached down and touched his pocket, feeling the weight of the stone that was cradled there. He smiled, feeling like his luck changed, then turned to leave.
“What are you smiling about?” Annie stood in the frame of the history room door. “Who’s that?” Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Megan. “I think I know her.”
Megan hunched over the map on the desk. Mr. Mulligan’s head was next to hers as if they were hatching a bank heist. “That’s just Megan,” Kevin said.
“Really? Just Megan?” Annie stared hard at him, hands on hips. “What were you doing, talking to her? She looks like the girl who was with Bonnie, the slut.”
Kevin walked away from the History classroom, bristling. What the heck was wrong with Annie? She’s been a bitch all day. Wasn’t this a free country?
Annie grabbed Kevin’s shirt and stopped him. “Well, are you going to answer me?”
“First, you complain about Ruby, and now you’re threatened by Megan? I don’t even know her. Mr. Mulligan introduced us today, five minutes ago.” Kevin grabbed Annie’s shoulders and searched her eyes. Her red splotchy face and narrowed eyes said it all. “Why are you so mad today? Does it have anything to do with that meeting you had earlier?”
Annie opened her mouth to say something, but then her eyes closed and shook her head. She jerked away from Kevin and ran into the nearby bathroom.
Kevin threw up his hands, then followed her. He sat on the floor in the nearly empty hallway and patiently waited for Annie to reemerge. A shadow crossed over him. He looked up, and his mood darkened further. “What do you want?” Kevin expected Tony to say something inappropriate about Annie.
Tony shrugged then leaned against the wall. “What everyone wants, peace, love, and happiness.”
Kevin clambered to his feet
. “What?”
Tony folded his arms. “You wouldn’t understand.” He looked away.
The bathroom door slammed against the wall. Annie stomped out. “I thought I heard your voice. You’ll be happy to know; it’s done.” She stepped into Tony’s space. “I’m done.”
“What is going on?” Kevin looked from Tony to Annie.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Annie said.
“She…” Tony started, pointing at Annie.
“I said, I don’t want to talk about it!” She shoved Tony, bouncing his shoulders off the wall.
Tony held up his hands in defeat.
“Kevin. Can I get your phone number?” Megan walked toward him, oblivious to what was going on. She looked to Kevin, Annie, and Tony, confusion then understanding crossed on her face. “So, I can let you know what my father finds.”
“You!” Annie turned her attention and anger to Megan. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? How dare you talk to my boyfriend.” She pulled her arm back as if to strike Megan.
Megan stepped toward Annie, crowding her space.
Annie seemed to realize she couldn’t hit Megan while she stood so close. Uncertainty crossed her face, and her hand dropped.
Megan’s eyes narrowed, and she spoke softly. “You touched him. You can keep him.” She confidently stepped back from Annie and walked away.
Annie grimaced then leaned over. Her hands gripped into Kevin’s arm, pinching him. “If you ever talk to her again, I’ll…kill you.” She gasped, held her stomach, and ran back into the bathroom. Kevin thought he heard Annie vomiting.
“That took balls.” Tony watched Megan walk down the hall. He seemed disappointed.
Chapter 14
M egan climbed into her car. Her mind lingered on Kevin. What the hell was he doing with Annie? She hit the steering wheel and took a few deep breaths, steadying her nerves. After a few minutes, she started the car and headed to Bonnie’s house.
Kevin wasn’t Annie’s type. He wasn’t gorgeous. He was cute. He wasn’t rich. His family was poor. His grades weren’t high, nor was he an athlete. He didn’t participate in drama or art club. He didn’t do anything that would normally attract attention from Annie. He was the normal, average high school boy. That’s why Megan and Bonnie kept an eye on him. For them, Kevin was the perfect distraction from senior year.
