Black Wood

by Derek Flynn

  As I lay on the bed, I thought about Charlie. Where was Charlie in the middle of all this? It couldn’t end without Charlie being involved. I really wanted to find him, to make sure nothing had happened to him. But where did I start? There was his apartment, but the cops were sure to be there. Even so, he wouldn’t leave his grandfather on his own, so there was a chance he’d go back there.

  Then, of course, there was the most obvious place: the Black Wood. But if that was the most obvious to me then it would be the most obvious to everyone else. True, they had changed their meeting-place; the clearing where they met now was so deep, others might never find it. But, nonetheless, they’d been discovered in the Black Wood before; after they’d ruled out every other place that Charlie could be, it wouldn’t take much thought to eventually get around to there. And they would start where they found them before and keep going and eventually find the new meeting-place. But how long would that take? He could be long gone by then. In fact, he could have been hiding out there at that moment, waiting for 9PM.

  So, I headed back to the Black Wood. When I got there, the clearing was empty. I searched all around, but no sign of Charlie. I stood there in the middle of the clearing, the sun pouring through the trees, making the wood seem blacker than ever. I took it all in, thought about all those nights that I’d sat there, just beyond their reach, observing, listening. All those nights, and now it had come to this point. To the point where I was going to get them their money to get out of town. To buy them their freedom. Something about that felt good. But first, I had to find Charlie. If he wasn’t in the Black Wood, the next obvious place was his apartment.

  I left the Black Wood and headed straight for the bus. When I got off a few blocks before Charlie’s, I saw the police cruiser up ahead. The cops were standing out on the street talking to some of the locals, no doubt canvassing information. I walked up the block and as I passed the alleyway where the fire escape was, I caught sight of a familiar face at the end of the alleyway.

  Scarjaw.

  Scarjaw was standing there with one of his crew. I was about to do a double take, but I realised he’d recognise me, so I kept on walking for a couple of blocks and then ducked up an alleyway myself. My heart was pounding. What the hell was Scarjaw doing outside of Charlie’s apartment block? I knew it was dangerous, but I also knew I couldn’t let it go. I doubled back towards the apartment block, hoping the cops wouldn’t notice me. I stopped at the corner of the alleyway and peered around the corner. Scarjaw was gone. They were either out on the street or they’d done as I’d done and gone up the fire escape. I looked around the street. No sign of them. It was too much of a coincidence, seeing them outside Charlie’s apartment on the day he didn’t show up for his trial. I started to climb the fire escape. If the cops saw me, I figured I could tell them I was just a bystander wondering what Charlie’s apartment looked like. I couldn’t resist a look. They’d slap me on the wrist and let me go. But if Scarjaw saw me, I was fucked. There was no way of talking myself out of that one.

  I crept as quietly as I could up the fire escape, which – on a fire escape – isn’t very quiet. I was glad I wore my trainers. When I got to Charlie’s apartment, Scarjaw was inside, standing with his back to the window. A few feet away, Charlie’s grandfather was sitting in an armchair, and standing over him was Scarjaw’s goon. He grabbed Charlie’s grandfather by his dressing gown and jerked him up out of the chair.

  “Where is he?” I heard Scarjaw say.

  “I don’t know, I don’t know,” the old man said.

  “Yes, you do. You’re the only one who does. He owes me big and I want my money. Now where the fuck is he?”

  “I don’t know. He told me he was going to court today.”

  “Well, he didn’t go to fucking court today, did he? I swear to God, if he’s after skipping town, you’re a dead man.” He turned around to the goon. “You keep an eye out for the cops. I’m going to search this place, see if I can find anything. I don’t think he’d be stupid enough to leave it here, but you never know. He was stupid enough to fuck with me.”

  My heart jumped in my mouth as I saw the goon make for the window. He was going to keep watch out on the fire escape. I had to move fast. I slid down the rail to the next floor. Silence didn’t matter anymore; I had to get down before he saw me. I heard the window open above me and his big boots clang, one, two, out onto the fire escape. I was three floors down now, but he could still see me. I heard his voice up above me.

  “Scarjaw, there’s someone down here.”

  I started to run down the rest of the fire escape. But where was I going to go then? If I ran out into the street, the cops would see me. They’d want to know what I was doing. If I didn’t, the goon was going to be on me in one minute. I could hear his boots clanging down the steps. He didn’t share my qualms about making noise. Would he chase after me out into the street? Would he be that stupid to run right into the cops? But if he did, what was I going to say? It was going to drag me into the whole mess. Whatever Charlie was involved in with Scarjaw, I was about to get wrapped up in it one way or the other. But was it better to get wrapped up in it with Scarjaw or with the cops? It didn’t matter. My question was answered with a hand on my shoulder that jerked me back and threw me onto the ground. I heard steps coming up behind me. I looked up into Scarjaw’s face.

  “Well. Hello neighbour.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  The next twelve hours were the most surreal of my life. It started with me being dragged down the alleyway and pushed through a hole in the chain-link fence at the end of it. Beyond the fence sat their two bikes. Scarjaw shoved me onto the passenger seat of one, and said, “You better hold on tight. If you try anything, you’re a dead man.” I wanted to ask him what the hell I was going to try on the passenger seat of a Harley travelling 100 miles an hour. But I didn’t. Having said that, during the bike ride I did consider letting go, wondering if that would be the better option. Just drop back and smash my head on the asphalt and that would be the end of it all. Charlie was missing – God knows what had happened to him; he was being hunted not only by the cops, but by a psycho biker. Samantha would now be alone with her father in the Black Wood at nine o’clock, and I was probably the only one who could solve this. Of course, that was presuming I could extricate myself from the clutches of Scarjaw.

  I knew where we were headed, and I knew it wasn’t good. Back to the bar. And sure enough that’s where we arrived. But when we got there, it was dark inside. I expected it to be like the previous night, full of drunken bikers and noise. But there were no bikes outside and no noise inside. They hadn’t opened up for the day yet. He wasn’t taking me back to be the plaything of a bunch of bikers. This was more serious than that.

  He took me off the back of the bike and dragged me through the bar to an office out back. He sat me in a chair.

  “I’m willing to bet my bar that you know where Charlie Rhodes is.”

  “I swear, I don’t. Why do you think I was at his apartment? I was looking for him.”

  “I think you do. I don’t know why you were at his apartment. Probably trying to pick something up for him. But whatever. If you were looking for the money, I checked. It’s already gone. So, the question is, did he take it or did somebody else?”

  I didn’t answer. He shouted into my face, “Where is my fucking money?”

  “I don’t know anything about your money. I didn’t even know you knew Charlie. What makes you think he’s my friend?”

  “Because you’re a weak ass high school kid, yet you turned up at a biker bar ... a place where even the cops don’t want to come ... looking for Charlie Rhodes. Now, if that don’t make you his friend, I don’t know what it makes you.”

  “It isn’t like that,” I said.

  “Oh, I bet it’s like that. Listen, little man, we can do this dance all fucking day. The last time you were here, you were helpful to me. You gave me some information on Charlie that I didn’t know. So, I let you walk out
the door. The same thing can happen today.”

  “Look, Mr ...”

  “Call me Scarjaw.”

  “Look. There’s nothing I’d like better than to walk out that door. Or to be able to tell you where Charlie is. But the truth is ... and it is the truth ... I don’t know. I was waiting in that courtroom today like everyone else. Maybe if you tell me what you want from Charlie, maybe I can help you.” He looked at the goon and they both laughed.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me. Are you serious with this shit? You’re trying to play us?”

  “No, no, I’m not. I just thought maybe I could tell you something to help you. But the only thing I can’t tell you is where Charlie is.”

  “Well, you just found out,” came a voice. We all looked around at the same time and there, right inside the front door, stood Charlie, holding a gun. Scarjaw started to edge slowly towards him.

  “Don’t do it,” Charlie said.

  “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me with this shit. You are not seriously going to come into my bar and try and fuck with me. Put a gun to my face!”

  “I heard you were going to do the same thing to me.”

  “You have fucked me for the last time.”

  “I didn’t do anything to you.”

  “You took my money.”

  “That was a mix-up.”

  “Oh?” He looks at the goon and they start to laugh again. It was like something out of a bad movie where the bad guys always look at each other and then guffaw. When they’d finished laughing, Scarjaw looked at Charlie. “A misunderstanding? What kind of misunderstanding causes twenty grand to go missing?

  Charlie didn’t answer. But the figure struck me. Twenty grand. Why was it twenty grand? But that was a question for Charlie at a later date. We had more pressing matters.

  “Back away from him,” Charlie said. Was this really happening? Charlie was coming to my rescue. Charlie was saving me from a gang of bikers with a gun. Was I dreaming? No. It was really happening.

  “You’re not going to walk out of here,” Scarjaw said. “You know that.”

  “No, you’re wrong. We are going to walk out of here. That’s exactly what’s going to happen. We’re going to walk out of here and we’re going to take one of your bikes with us.”

  “Oh, you really gotta be kidding me.”

  “Do you know why that’s going to happen, Scarjaw? Because I’m going to get your money back. That’s what I’m going to do. But I need you to trust me.”

  “I don’t trust you.”

  “I know you don’t. But I need you to. I really am going to get your money back. It was a misunderstanding. I should never have let it happen. It’s on me. And I am gonna fix this. But you’ve got to help me out.”

  “What the fuck ...”

  “I know. I know it sounds crazy. But I need to borrow one of your bikes.” He pointed at me. “And I need to take him with me.”

  Why? Why did he need to take me with him?

  “Look,” Charlie went on. “I could have just tied you up and taken him anyway. I’m trying to be reasonable here. Respectful.”

  “It wasn’t reasonable or respectful to rob me of twenty grand.”

  “I didn’t rob it. You know that.”

  “Well, I want it paid back.”

  “And I’m gonna get it back to you. Just help me out here.”

  There was a silence that seemed to last forever. Finally, Scarjaw said, “Jesus Christ, I must be crazy.”

  A look of relief passed over Charlie’s face. Scarjaw went closer to him and pointed a finger in his face. “Only because ... But you meet me in the Black Wood at ten o’clock tomorrow night with my twenty grand, or you’re a dead man.”

  Charlie nodded, looked at me, and said, “Let’s go.”

  I looked at Scarjaw and he nodded. I got up out of the chair and followed Charlie out without looking back. I could feel Scarjaw’s eyes burning into our backs as we walked out the door.

  Outside, Charlie jumped on the first Harley he saw. Although, I’d had enough of riding passenger on a Harley, I joined him. He started the engine and took off in a cloud of dust. We’d gone a couple of miles and were on the edge of the Black Wood, when he slowed down and pulled in. My ears were ringing, and my face felt like G-Force had hit it, but I was so relieved.

  “Thank you for that,” I said.

  He grabbed me, pulled me off the bike, and threw me onto the ground.

  “Don’t thank me just yet,” he said.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  I didn’t know what was happening. My would-be knight in shining armour was turning on me. I lay on the ground looking up at him with – I imagine – the same confused look he gave Dale the day Dale hit him.

  “Charlie ... what ...”

  “Don’t speak. Don’t talk until I tell you to talk. No, do speak. Where’s the money?”

  “What money?”

  “The money. Scarjaw’s money. The money I just told him I was going to go get.”

  “Your drug money? How would I know where your drug money is?”

  He grabbed me and pulled me up off the ground. For such a slight figure, he was surprisingly strong.

  “Do not fuck with me,” he shouted in my face. “You pretending you were all innocent ... going to write a book about us ... You’re not innocent. You’re in on it with her.”

  “In on what?”

  And then he punched me.

  And the circle was complete. Now I knew what it felt like to be Samantha. To be punched in the face by Charlie.

  “Jesus, Charlie, what the hell ...”

  “Why didn’t the two of you just take off together? Wasn’t that part of your plan?”

  “There was no plan. Not for me and Samantha. The plan was you two were going to take off together. I was the one being left behind.”

  “You better stop lying.”

  I realised my lip was bleeding. “Jesus, my lip is bleeding.”

  “That’s what you’re worried about? You know how many parts of you are going to be bleeding if Scarjaw doesn’t get his money back?”

  I tried to squirm free, but he was holding on tight to my sweater. “I thought you said Dale was the one who was going to rip him off because of his gambling debts,” I said.

  “What the fuck does that have to do with what we’re talking about? We’re talking about the money we were going to take from Samantha’s father.”

  “I don’t know anything about that money.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “You’ve got the complete wrong end of the stick here, Charlie. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  He slowly loosened his grip on me and I backed away.

  “What the hell were you doing at Scarjaw’s joint anyway?” he said.

  “I was looking for you. I mean, not there. I was looking for you at your apartment and Scarjaw was there.”

  “And what were you doing there?”

  “I told you, I was looking for you. We were worried.” I pressed my hand to my lip to try to stop the bleeding. It was starting to throb.

  “You and Samantha?” Charlie said.

  “Yeah.”

  “Why would Samantha be worried about me? She was with me this afternoon.”

  “What?” Now it was my turn to be confused. “I saw her this morning at the courthouse. She never said anything about meeting you in the afternoon. We agreed she was going to go home, put the final blackmail note in her father’s briefcase, and then we’d meet at nine in the Black Wood.”

  Charlie’s eyes narrowed. “Samantha told me to meet her at nine in the Black Wood,” he said. “And I waited. Samantha never showed. But her father did. He showed up screaming and shouting about how someone had stolen the money from this study. And his gun.”

  An awful, cold feeling started to climb from the pit of my stomach. “Okay, Charlie, we really need to talk about this. We’ve both been played here.”

  “You fucking liar.”

  “I
’m not lying. Samantha told me a whole other crock of shit. She said you were panicking, that we needed to get the money straight away to put your grandfather into a home.”

  “There is no home. You think I’d leave my grandfather here?”

  “She said if you could put your grandfather into a home before you split, there was nothing the cops could do about it.”

  “Nothing the cops could do. What do you think Scarjaw would do?”

  “What’s it got to do with Scarjaw? Why are you calling it Scarjaw’s money?”

  “Because it is. What I told Samantha about Dale ... what you no doubt heard as well ... how he wanted to rip off our dealer. What I didn’t say was he’d already done it. That day in the hall, we weren’t arguing because he was about to do it, we were arguing because he’d done it. He ripped him off for twenty grand to pay back his gambling debts. So I told him that day, I was cutting him loose. I wanted nothing more to do with him. I figured if I walked away, Scarjaw would deal with him himself. But I figured wrong. As far as Scarjaw was concerned, we were in business together, so we were both liable for the money. If he didn’t get it from Dale, he was going to get it from me. And after Dale took off on his little road trip, well, that just left me. I told him I was working on it. That I had a way of getting it.”