Average Joe and the Extraordinaires

by Belart Wright

  Borland: “Well, good thing I thought ahead and brought some candles since I figured this dump wouldn’t have electricity.”

  Borland lifted his black duffle bag to show Joe. Joe was getting desperate.

  Joe: “I’m telling you, it’s really bad in there. It’s cold and dusty and smells like old dirt. That smell stays in your clothes.”

  Borland was losing his patience. Even in the dark Joe could see him scowl.

  Borland: “Listen. I don’t care about any of that. We don’t have a lot of time, so take us inside to a good spot now or I will drag you in there by the neck and find it myself.”

  Joe swallowed hard, turned, and walked up the stairs to the back door.

  Joe: “Fine, fine. Just let me look around to make sure the coast is clear.”

  Borland: “Who do you think is in there?”

  Joe had nothing to say.

  Borland: “And what sense would it make to have a kid doing that when we have an armed ex-cop and a lady that can beat up ten men here?”

  Joe became frantic trying to think of something, anything, to stop Borland from entering the building. He looked to Liandra for support. She simply nodded her head.

  Liandra: “Just lead us in, Joe.”

  Joe wordlessly walked forward and opened the door, making sure to do so as slowly as he could. Inside was nothing but darkness. He fumbled around a bit, half pretending, half not. He kept up the charade until Borland pulled out a flashlight and illuminated the black iron stairs and the doors.

  Borland: “We goin’ up or what, kid?”

  Joe thought for a minute. He knew Melissa would most likely be at the top, and figured that there was no way to really hide the signs that she was up there. The pictures, the sleeping bags, the blankets, all of it gave her away. At least on this floor he had the chance of Dahlila being somewhere else. She might have snuck out again to get more supplies. Or she was probably waiting inside, and as soon as he opened the door would probably slam him again. That would give her away instantly, unless…

  A crazy idea popped into his head, but he realized he needed to be quick about it for it to work. He started coughing loudly. Borland tried to shush him.

  Borland: “Keep it down, kid.”

  Joe: “Sorry Mr. BORLAND! It’s just all this dust. I didn’t know so much of it could HIDE so well on the walls.”

  Borland: “Alright, keep it down. Stop yelling.”

  Joe: “Okay, MR. BORLAND!”

  He hoped that was enough, as bad as it was. He saw Liandra shaking her head behind Borland. Borland looked at Joe as if he were crazy.

  Borland: “Your parents must not have fed you today.”

  Joe slowly pushed the creaking door open, half expecting to be grabbed and slammed at any moment.

  Borland: “Bad things are gonna happen if you don’t hurry up with that door and stop toying with me, kid.”

  Joe quickened his pace. He opened the door and saw the pale blue light of the moon keeping much of the room's darkness at bay. What he didn’t see was any sign of Dahlila, or her exercise equipment, and what’s more he was still on his feet. He let out a huge sigh of relief. He guessed that she was upstairs with Melissa. Hopefully they had heard him.

  Joe: “Well, I guess the benches over there are as good a spot as any for this meeting. Shall we begin?”

  Borland appeared to be annoyed. Liandra however was transfixed on the statue of the woman at the altar at the front of the room. She walked up to it and touched its face, gently, as one might touch a person they’re about to lose.

  Joe: “Are you okay, Liandra?”

  Liandra: “Yes, I’m fine. This statue ... she’s beautiful is all.”

  Chapter 29

  The Deadly Speech

  It was early, school time early, and Joe dreaded every minute of being awake. Where was the joy of getting suspended if he couldn’t sleep in? Mostly Joe just wanted this day to be over. Once the day was done he’d be safely in his bed again and not worrying about some psycho killer out for blood. He’d be happy for that. That worry had left a painful knot in the pit of his stomach. The sooner that left, the better off Joe would be.

  On this particular morning, Joe’s brain decided to worry him every which way it could. Everything that had recently troubled him came to the forefront of his thoughts. He tried his best to push those bad thoughts away but had no such luck. His somber mood continued into breakfast. He tried to focus on Borland’s plan in order to get his mind out of the dumps.

  Borland had spent the majority of the meeting emphasizing each of their roles. Joe was told that he was to strictly watch his small portion of the crowd and report, to Borland or Liandra, any sign of suspicious activities. It felt like small-time grunt work to Joe, but he was fine not sticking his neck out. He still wasn’t used to dealing with danger and assassins like the other two. They seemed to keep their calm in those situations, where he always panicked. Borland had even gone out of his way to make Joe promise to stay out of danger. Joe remembered his words.

  Borland: “Don’t try to be a hero, that’s the main thing. You’re a civilian, and if you die I’ll be the one to blame.”

  To Joe it had sounded like Borland’s way of trying to communicate that he cared.

  Liandra was outside waiting in the driveway as planned. She had taken his car last night and dropped him off. Joe got into the passenger side and closed the door. Now Liandra—in the guise of an older gent in a white dress shirt, blue crisscross patterned tie, mustard colored slacks, and sporting a gray Caesar haircut—was trying to hammer the details of the plan into Joe’s memory as she drove off. Once she noticed his lack of interest and apparent preoccupation, she stopped regurgitating facts and asked him a question.

  Liandra: “What’s wrong, Joe?”

  He didn’t immediately answer, not quite sure what to say. After a moment he found his voice.

  Joe: “Everything is … all of it.”

  Liandra: “Elaborate please.”

  Joe: “Nothing is right. If I died today it’ll be for nothing. I haven’t accomplished anything in my life.”

  He looked out the window at nothing in particular as he talked, making sure his face was fully turned away from hers. She heard a dull THUNK, and then looked down at Joe’s pants to see the wide splash mark made by what was most likely a tear.

  Joe: “When I look back on it, my whole life is nothing but a failure.”

  Liandra was never a cheerleader or one to mince her words; however, she tried her best to put him in better spirits. She transformed back to her normal self for a moment to make the situation less weird.

  Liandra: “You mean has been.”

  Joe: “What?”

  Liandra: “If you think nothing good has come of your life, then you must remember that you’re talking about your very short life up to this point. I promise that I won’t let you die today. After that, it’s up to you to decide if the rest of your life is going to be a failure or not. You have plenty of time to make something of yourself. Don’t waste it on moping around and thinking of a life that could’ve been.”

  He looked at her sheepishly, his eyes still red and wet.

  Joe: “Thanks.”

  She smiled at him.

  Liandra: “Don’t thank me until we’re done with this mess.”

  ************

  It had been a pain to park. There were way more people here than Joe thought there would be. Joe didn’t think anybody liked this boring political stuff, but it seemed he was wrong. The only person he knew to be openly political year-round was Kate. She was always prattling on about women’s rights, gay rights, and voting rights. For all her talk of “rights” all of her positions were remarkably to the “left,” at least that’s what one of Joe’s teachers had said to him in a joking manner. Joe couldn’t find the humor in it.

  The crowd was jam-packed. They had filled the Sunbeam County Fair Courtyard easily enough, and it wasn’t even anywhere near noon. Joe and Liandra, the old man,
had split up as soon as they entered the courtyard so no one saw them together. She was to keep an eye on the rear of the crowd and he the middle. Borland was supposed to watch the front, but he was nowhere in sight. It was tough to see through the thickness of the crowd.

  Joe waded through the crowd, not entirely sure what he was looking for. There were mainly older folks around his parents’ age and older. Joe supposed that this would-be assassin he was looking for would be someone younger, so he looked around for folks closer to his age than Borland’s. He saw a few younger folks scattered about, and one big group of them that was in his middle section. They looked only slightly older than him, maybe on some college field trip, if they had those in college. Maybe the assassin would come from that group. They looked innocent enough and nearly as restless as Joe. It would be twenty more minutes until the governor took to the stage.

  After a few minutes Joe felt a vibration against his leg. He whipped out the cell phone that Borland had given him and read the message. “Everyone in position.”

  Joe responded with a “Yes,” as fast as he could type. He still couldn’t see Borland, however. He placed the phone back into his pocket. It was nearing time for the speech to begin.

  “I didn’t expect to see you at this event, Joseph.”

  Joe turned towards the familiar voice and saw the small man dressed in brown slacks, a yellow dress shirt, white vest, and as always those tiny white tic-tac shoes. He looked as if he were going to some prom as a bathroom gone bad. Today he complemented all that with a pair of silver-framed specs which caught the sun and reflected it into Joe’s eyes, causing him to squint.

  Mr. Patrias: “I see suspension hasn’t kept you from being a busybody. Of all places, what brings you here?”

  Joe didn’t want to talk to Patrias, but felt obligated thanks to Zero Tolerance.

  Joe: “I thought I’d come out here to learn a little about our local politics.”

  Patrias smiled and clasped his hands together.

  Mr. Patrias: “Good answer, and very commendable. If you keep up this level of academic excellence, you may get to keep your spot at our school. Keep up the good work and enjoy the speech, Joseph. Good day to you.”

  The principal walked away with a subdued smile, while Joe bared a subdued scowl as he walked away. Of all places, Joe thought. A few moments later the speech started.

  There was a huge commotion and the crowd forcefully moved forward when a celebrity, some actor named Ace McTavert, took to the stage for the governor’s introduction. He started by rattling off a list of the governor’s accomplishments. It was a formidable list, but Joe noted that a lot of the supposed achievements sounded trivial at best.

  After all that, the governor was brought on stage to loud collective applause and cheers. He was a round and squat man, bald at the top of his head with a horseshoe shaped half-ring of brown hair around that. He was clean shaven and wore a dark blue suit sans the blazer. He looked uncomfortable, or constipated, or both as he smiled and waved around to the crowd. Shutters snapped feverishly before he even uttered a word, and when he did talk there was nothing but bullish confidence in his voice.

  “What kind words from Mr. McTavert. I’ve always liked his movies, so his endorsement means a lot. Thanks, Ace! Now, to those of you who don’t know me, I am your friendly neighborhood governor, John Everstone!”

  Loud cheers erupted at the mention of the governor’s name. The governor paused to let the clamor die down a bit before he continued. Joe felt he was the only one here who didn’t know who this governor really was. He wasn’t familiar with the man in the least.

  Everstone: “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you all! I couldn’t have done this without you. I think of you all every day and in every decision I make. That’s the success of my administration and I don’t keep that a secret. We are for the people and by the people!”

  The crowd erupted at that. Hands went up in the air, whistles were blown, flags were waved that had the governor’s name on them, and the cheers seemed to nearly rival a Pickers game. Nah, on second thought, nothing rivals the loudness of a Pickers’ game, Joe thought.

  Everstone: “At your behest, I have put into effect a five point plan. Now, this very town was good to me during the election and ol’ John won’t forget it. That’s why I’m using this town as a launching point for part three of my five point plan, rebuilding. You’ll soon see new construction around some of your favorite districts in a concerted effort to bring prosperity, opportunity, and fun to this town. Our plan to rejuvenate this state starts with you, Orangetown, and to kick that off we’ve invested countless resources into getting Pickers stadium up and running so your Pickers have a home to return to.”

  More cheers went up, this time insanely louder than the last.

  Everstone: “We will have the stadium up and running before next season. That’s a promise!”

  The crowd went wild, and this time not even Governor Everstone could bring them back. He smiled and you could barely hear him talking and laughing over the speakers.

  “EH-VER-STONE! EH-VER-STONE! EH-VER-STONE!” went the chant from the crowd.

  Everstone: “Now I’m flattered but we have to—”

  They cut him off with, “FOUR MORE YEARS! FOUR MORE YEARS! FOUR MORE YEARS!”

  Joe found himself smiling too, mainly at the thought of more Pickers games here in Orangetown. His reverie was interrupted when his pocket vibrated. He pulled his phone from his pocket and looked at it. “STOP GAWKING,” it said. A second message came immediately after: “This lousy GOV won’t save himself.” Joe got the message in more ways than one, and proceeded to do his part in saving the governor’s life. He walked to his left and awkwardly surveyed the men and women around him. He honestly felt like the suspicious one. A few people around him agreed and eyed him warily as he passed by. After that, he walked back through the crowd again, but this time towards the right side. He didn’t see any sign of suspicious activity but continued to survey all the same.

  On stage, some man in a black suit walked over to the governor and tapped him on the shoulder. Joe thought it was curtains for Everstone until he saw him laughing after the other man whispered some inaudible joke in his ear. The man walked away and Everstone turned his attention back towards the crowd.

  Everstone: “I was just told some very interesting news. It seems that we have a very special guest here with us today, and it seems that they’re a secret supporter of mine. I’d be remiss if I didn’t at least say hi.”

  The crowd became hushed with suspense as they waited to learn who this guest was. Joe himself didn’t care at all who this guest was, probably just another boring old guy. He just wanted the speech to be done for his and the governor’s sake.

  Everstone: “Joe Black, is that you back there? Joseph Remington Black?”

  Joe stopped in his tracks and froze. He couldn’t believe it. The crowd was stunned too. Everyone was turning their heads to look for him. Only a few of those near him immediately recognized him. Joe turned towards the stage and saw that the governor had clearly recognized him as well. Thanks to Everstone’s unwavering stare, all eyes were quickly upon him.

  Everstone: “Yes, that is you isn’t it? My eyes don’t deceive me.”

  Joe could do nothing but stare at the man. The phone in his pocket vibrated but he didn’t have the nerve to answer it, not with everyone staring at him.

  Everstone: “Can you join me on stage, young man?”

  Joe had no idea what to do. More vibrations came from his pocket, but the only thing on his mind now were the stares. There were so many faces around him, all staring, with John Everstone at the center of the parade. They all waited to see what he would do next, but even he didn't know what he would do. The next thing he knew he was nodding his head very slowly. His feet did the rest.

  Everstone: “Yes, that’s it! Come on down!”

  The crowd started booing as Joe made his way to the stage, so much venom in their jeers that the governor though
t it best to send security over to meet Joe and escort him to the stage.

  Everstone: “Yes, this young man does indeed have a reputation that precedes him, and it is a rather infamous one.”

  Once Joe was on stage, the governor welcomed him with a strong handshake and a pat on the shoulders. He spoke to Joe away from the mic.

  Everstone: “Nice to finally meet you.”

  The camera shutters snapped like mad. The governor then patted Joe on the back, a gesture signaling for him to face the audience. Joe followed the governor’s cue as the governor prepared to talk. Governor Everstone was fairly short up close.

  Everstone: “So here we are. I want to properly introduce you all to our friend here, Joseph Black. Can we call you Joe?”

  Joe nearly froze again, but instead he offered:

  Joe: “Yes … my friends call me Joe.”

  Everstone: “That’s great, Joe, because I do want to be your friend, and I’ll bet that once the people here get to know the real you, they will too.”

  He again turned to face the audience.

  Everstone: “Now, I want to clear up a few things about our pal Joe. I’ve followed his case from its beginning, being an avid Pickers fan myself, and took an immediate interest in this young man’s story. We all know he was originally implicated and charged for the destruction inside the Pickers stadium, and we as informed citizens know that those charges were dropped as well. Most of you sound like you’re not convinced of his innocence, however. I recently looked into this case and uncovered a few details that weren’t released to the public.”

  Joe became even more nervous. He wasn’t ready for any questions related to the stadium incident right now. He suddenly couldn’t remember the story that Liandra and Borland had made him rehearse for the police.

  Everstone: “What I know that many of you don’t is that this young man only stayed in that stadium because he risked his life to save a young lady, narrowly making it out himself from the resulting chaos. As a survivor and a compassionate human being, I think he perfectly represents this town. Beyond all that, I think he deserves an apology from all of us who doubted him and continue to doubt him. I, for one, want to thank him for setting an example of the goodness this town has to offer.”