by C. L. Stone
“Pardon us,” Victor said.
The man turned, and the familiar face surprised him.
Mr. Buble wore dark-rimmed glasses, and had dark hair combed back neatly, still appearing damp after a morning shower. His suit was impeccable, with a thin, dark tie and the front buttons secure. The cut was perfect, although Victor wasn’t clear on the brand. It didn’t seem to have any indication of one. His gaze instantly went from Victor, to Sang, to the others and then back to Sang.
“Good morning,” he said. Every syllable clear and direct. He looked to Victor. “It’s your birthday, isn’t it, young Mr. Morgan? A very nice occasion indeed.”
Victor’s nerves shook. He was Academy, but not someone he’d spent a lot of time with. Was he here to monitor on behalf of the Academy for some security reason? He hadn’t been informed of it. Surely all of his own team being in attendance and helping with the security would be enough. “Mr. Buble,” Victor said, taking on a more formal tone, matching Mr. Buble’s. “Were you going to be attending the party? You’re very much invited, of course.”
“I learned from Mr. Blackbourne that Miss Sorenson was here. I wished to come by in person. I didn’t realize there was an event taking place. I didn’t mean to interfere.”
“You’re here for Sang?” Nathan asked.
Mr. Buble redirected his attention to him. “In a way, I’m here for all of you, but for her especially.”
“Is something wrong?” Sang asked. “Did you need us?”
“No, but from what I understand, you need me.” He stepped forward, closing the distance to them all and speaking the next part lower, looking directly at Sang. “I’m your new manager.”
Theme
(The melodic subject of a musical composition)
Sang
We didn’t have time to figure out what having a new manager meant right now. Victor’s parents were asking for his car. His real one. And it wasn’t here. We needed to leave.
“Oh,” I said, unable to think of what else to say to Mr. Buble. I didn’t want to be rude to him, either. I looked to the others, unsure of what to do. Surely this was something they had been through before or knew about? He didn’t seem like someone to worry about. I’d met him before at camp, where he’d been part of a council who decided if I should be permitted to try out for the Academy. And he’d been for it.
The others, though, seemed too quiet, too surprised by this. The expressions on their faces uncomfortable.
Nathan was the first one to extend a hand to him in offering. “We didn’t know we were getting one.”
Mr. Buble shook his hand quickly and nodded. “This is not for you,” he said, his expression remained placid. “She is a new applicant, a tryout protégé, as it were. And most newcomers get a manager, particularly anyone underage who no longer has immediate family members to rely on. Just following protocol.”
I looked to the others. I couldn’t remember them telling me they had a manager.
But then they hadn’t needed one. They’d been teamed up with Mr. Blackbourne and Dr. Green, who had been full-fledged members when they found Victor and the others. I wasn’t sure how it all worked for them, but it was clear from Victor’s and the others’ expressions that this was something new.
“Well,” Victor said. “We actually need to get going right now. We have a bit of a... a thing...” He wasn’t sure if it was time to share the details. “If you’d like to join the party later...”
“If she’s going, I’d like to come along,” he said. He put up his hands, showing us his palms. “I’m only here as an observer right now. Pretend I’m not here. I’ll just be assisting for a few days. Maybe a couple of weeks, depending on how long it takes.”
“All the time?” I asked. I couldn’t help it, the question slipped out, along with my surprised tone.
He shook his head. “A few hours a day, but we’ll work out a schedule. I’m happy to explain how managers work with new applicants.” He looked up at Victor. “Shall I explain on the way?”
He was from the Academy. We were supposed to trust them. There was no reason not to agree to it, but the way Victor looked in that moment frightened me. They all looked unsure about this.
I put my hand in Victor’s quickly and squeezed it. “It’s fine,” I said. “Maybe I can go with him?” I turned to Mr. Buble. “Did you bring a vehicle?”
“I did, indeed,” Mr. Buble said. He motioned to a black town car parked near the gate to the estate. “And I’m happy to have you along. Anyone else?”
“I’ll go,” Silas said.
“Me,” Nathan said at the same time.
Victor looked like he wanted to say something similar, but someone had to drive Mr. Blackbourne’s car.
When it was clear one of them would go with us, I relaxed. I was happy not to go alone with Mr. Buble. He seemed nice, but I didn’t know him, and the others, their expressions, were making me nervous that he was around.
Were we supposed to trust him or not?
Mr. Buble started walking toward his car. “Then if you’ll join us, come along. Someone will have to let me know where we’re going.”
It was eventually decided to leave the car Nathan and Silas and I had arrived in. Silas joined Victor this time. Nathan came with me to talk to Mr. Buble.
Mr. Buble reached his car first, and politely opened the front passenger door and looked to me. As soon as it was fully opened, he reached for the rear passenger door, and at this, looked at Nathan.
It surprised me. The guys often opened doors for me. It struck me funny, for some reason, he’d open the door for Nathan.
Nathan appeared intrigued by this as well. He got into the back seat. I sat down in front. The inside of his town car was spotless. I was self-conscious of just the dirt on the bottom of my shoes, or if a hair should happen to fall out of my head and leave itself on the seat.
It took some finagling for Mr. Buble to get his vehicle out from amid the collection of other cars.
Once he got us out of the gate and onto the road, he used the rearview mirror and adjusted it slightly. “Mr. Griffin...”
“You can call me Nathan,” he said.
Mr. Buble’s face seemed to always hold absolutely no feeling at all. Just calm and aware. It was so hard to read him. “Pardon me. Mr. Nathan... Where exactly are we going?”
“To...” He hesitated. “Sorry. With you showing up, I forgot what we were doing.”
“Going to North’s, where the other car is,” I said.
Nathan blinked. “Right.”
I wondered if he’d not wanted me to admit that. Maybe he was considering telling him we were going elsewhere.
“The Taylor household?” Mr. Buble asked. When Nathan nodded to this, he seemed satisfied. “Then I don’t need the coordinates. I know where it is.”
It surprised me he did. I’d been there a couple times, and I was still unsure exactly where it was located. But then, I was still unfamiliar with the area. Had he been there before?
Nathan touched my shoulder. “Maybe you should warn North we’re on the way. Just in case...”
It was a good idea. I wasn’t sure why Nathan wasn’t doing so.
But he did pull out his own phone and start texting to someone. If it wasn’t to North, maybe it was to Victor... or to Mr. Blackbourne, perhaps?
Why didn’t Mr. Blackbourne warn us Mr. Buble was coming?
Couldn’t he have told him it wasn’t a good time? Or prepared us somehow?
I took out my phone when Mr. Buble appeared to be looking at traffic. I didn’t want him noticing I took it out of my bra.
Sang: North, are you at your house?
North: Nope. Why?
There was a lot to explain.
Sang: On the way there. Victor’s parents are asking for his car. They’re going to give him a new one for his birthday.
North: Shit.
I agreed with him.
Sang: Also, Mr. Buble, do you remember him?
North: Sort of
?
Sang: He’s my new manager. He’s with me now. We’re on the way to your house.
North: Shit.
Again, I agreed. It wasn’t that he was here, it was that... I didn’t know what to think. But the guys seemed unhappy with the idea, so I felt I should be wary.
Sang: Should we come later?
North: No, come over. I’m on my way.
North: Don’t worry.
Yes, no problem.
Why should I be worried?
Once I’d finished, I felt like I was being rude to continue on the phone and not talk to Mr. Buble. “Sorry,” I said to him. I put the phone in my lap. I didn’t want to put it back into my bra like I normally did.
“No need to apologize,” he said. “Unlike other people, among our own, sometimes getting word out of an arrival can be critical. It can be... dangerous otherwise.”
I understood that’s what he meant. In some situations, it could be a problem when in the middle of some project or rescue.
“It’s just a weird time for us right now,” Nathan said. “I mean, no one let us know a manager was going to come for her.”
“I’d meant to introduce myself and invite Miss Sorenson to lunch perhaps to get to know one another.” He looked up sharply once to the rearview mirror to meet eyes with Nathan. “But I’m happy to help if there’s some crisis. I can explain on the way, of course, what I’m here for otherwise.”
Nathan nodded at this. “I guess I’m not aware of how managers work, either. We never had one.”
“You’ve had Mr. Blackbourne and Mr. Green. I’m sorry... Doctor... I’m used to calling him Mr. for some time.” He glanced once at me, but he mostly focused on the road, kept his hands exactly at ten and two, drove the speed limit... All while sitting up with shoulders back and head high.
It reminded me of when I’d first met Mr. Blackbourne. When he was around, I stood straighter. Mr. Buble had the same effect on me, only the severity was clear. He was as much type A to Mr. Blackbourne as Mr. Blackbourne might be compared to... Luke perhaps.
“Then why send someone for Sang?” Nathan asked. “We already have team leads established, and adults on our team to make it work for us. I guess I’m not clear on why it was decided.”
“We understood that your adult leads are actually highly preoccupied. Mr. Blackbourne is now acting principal for the school, and Dr. Green has extended hours at the hospital to complete his residency—and even after completion, there would still be long hours for him in the future as a doctor. The rest of your group hasn’t graduated yet and a new recruit, recently removed from a home, requires at least one adult who is available at all times for the position of ‘adult representative’ as per social conditions might dictate. In such context, I’m here to answer any questions she might have about us and what we do in full, assure she’s given proper care and as an acting aide where needed.”
I supposed it made sense. I was on my own now, away from my parents, but what more did I need?
Mr. Buble continued, “As of now, I’m just here to observe and provide any assistance I can in the meantime. There are no specific instructions for something like this. It depends entirely on the circumstances. If you didn’t have a place to stay, I’d make sure you had one. If you have questions about what we do, I’m here to answer.”
“We could do all that,” Nathan said.
“Indeed,” he said. “Although in regards to minors, sometimes you need an adult. I’m not here to be a parent. However, in some instances, someone older can get things for you that you couldn’t for yourself.”
I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. What was there to observe? Was this part of the Academy recruitment process that I wasn’t aware of? I was to be given trials or something to get to be a member, like Nathan was. Maybe Mr. Blackbourne and Dr. Green had to do similar, so was it any different than a stand-in for one of them?
There were so many questions to ask him. I simply didn’t know what to say.
Would this change everything?
♥♥♥
It wasn’t long before most of suburbia disappeared and we headed down a rural, single lane between rows of trees. The Taylor compound, as others liked to call it, sat away from any main road. I wasn’t sure who had originally built the house and why they’d put it so far out away from everything else.
Soon the trees ahead of us cleared. The Taylor house seemed in the same state of disrepair as when I last visited. It was old, Victorian, with what Luke called a tower in the corner. At night, it could give off a haunted house on Halloween night vibe. There was also a trailer home nearby, where North lived as construction continued. Luke and Uncle had already moved into the main house.
Nathan instructed Mr. Buble to circle around to the rear of the property, where there was a huge garage with several bay doors, along with a new two-door shed with smaller garage doors.
“He keeps adding buildings,” Nathan said, leaning forward to check out the new shed addition.
“Is that bad?” I asked.
“I’m starting to doubt Uncle wants to move out,” Nathan said.
“His team has been talking about getting together to live in the same location,” Mr. Buble said, parking the car close to the edge of the gravel lot where Mr. Blackbourne’s BMW was already parked. Victor had beat us here. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he picked this place.”
Nathan made a face. “Four old guys want to live here? It’s miles from anywhere.”
“Three guys already live here,” I said with a small smile.
“North doesn’t like it,” Nathan said. “Which is why he doesn’t really want to move in.”
We got out of the car. Two of the garage doors to the large building were open. Silas stood in the back inside, where there were shelves positioned against the far wall. He sifted through a large box on the shelf.
Nearby was Victor’s BMW. All the doors were open, the interior pulled apart completely. The leather seats were wrinkled and faded in color. The flooring was in strips, lain out on the concrete.
Silas turned when he heard us coming closer. He eyeballed Mr. Buble with mild interest and then slid a glance at me, as if asking silently what happened on our way over. When I didn’t really answer, he said, “Victor’s inside looking for North.”
Nathan bent over to look into the BMW closer. He put his hands on his hips and whistled, deep and slow, in one note. “I think it’s dead. This is a corpse we’re looking at.”
Silas nodded. He fished out a scrub brush from the boxes he was looking through. “North wants to clean it up, but we’d still have to replace all of the interior.”
“Not exactly the sort of job that can be done in an hour,” I said. I couldn’t help my disheartened tone. Poor Victor was going to have to explain why his car was destroyed.
“Maybe we can set it on fire,” Nathan said. “Claim it was an accident?”
“I believe the police would get involved,” Mr. Buble said. He stood by the open driver’s side door of Victor’s car, checking out the steering wheel. He touched the surface lightly, removed his hand quickly, rubbing his fingertips together like he’d touched something slimy and dirty. “While an option, that’s probably many steps to take to get to a solution with an indeterminate number of things that could go wrong.”
Nathan tilted his head, his blue eyes unfocusing. “I suppose putting it back in the water and claiming it was stolen would be okay, considering it was stolen... They don’t have to know I was driving it, right?”
Mr. Buble nodded. “Again, the police would get involved, and I fear that’s why it wasn’t reported then, correct?”
Nathan brushed his palm against the side of his scalp, his rusty hair recently cut short except for at the top. Gabriel had left it longer there, and it almost had a curl to it. He was quiet for a moment and then looked to Silas.
Silas shrugged. “We talked it over in the car on the way here. Cleaning it up seems to be the only option.”
Mr. Buble lo
oked at the two of them and then to me. “Are you sure?”
He kept his focus on me, like he expected me to answer. I hesitated and tried looking at the other two for help.
They seemed confused but waited.
Mr. Buble swung his eyes from me to the BMW parked outside and back to me. He waited, allowing me to make my own conclusion.
The car in the garage was ruined, but... the car Victor drove here wasn’t. “Why are we trying to do this?” I asked. “They just asked for the car. He’s been driving Mr. Blackbourne’s. They look exactly the same... unless you notice the slight color difference. They don’t seem to be able to tell. Does it matter if he has his exactly?”
“Because it’s likely they plan to sell it off,” Nathan said.
“But we don’t know that,” I said. “And how would they tell the difference anyway?” If they hadn’t noticed him driving another person’s car by now, I wasn’t sure if anyone would.
Silas smirked a little. “They’ll be confused as to why the VIN is different when doing the paperwork.”
Mr. Buble coughed shortly but kept his focus on me. We were on the right track.
“So,” I said carefully, “if it’s just the... VIN, can we... switch them?” I wasn’t sure where a VIN was or what it was, actually. I didn’t know much about cars. “Is it difficult?”
Silas blinked for a moment, his dark eyes considering the notion. “I suppose...”
Nathan shrugged. “North would know better than me.”
Mr. Buble gave an amply satisfied nod. He spoke to me in a professor-lecture-like voice. “VIN, standing for vehicle identification number, is located in a couple of places. Usually an interior sticker,” he came forward, motioning to a sticker attached to the inside of the frame of the door of Victor’s BMW. “And usually engraved on a singular bit of metal...” he trailed off as he moved, leaning over the windshield. He pointed to a spot, near the dash on the interior.
I came over to look at where he was pointing. There was a small bit of metal protruding out just enough where one could see a number.
