“Wow, … Ms. Pierce,” Matt says, laughing.
“It’s really nothing to laugh at,” Ms. Pierce says. The corners of her mouth turn up just a little, then she starts to laugh. “It’s still nothing to laugh at.”
“So what happened to Derrick after that?”
“A few weeks later he was arrested for tax evasion. He did odd jobs under the table, but, before that, he was actually a lawyer for a while, and I guess he stopped paying his taxes. He said it was immoral to support the state.”
“How long ago was that?”
“Almost five years.”
Matt frowns. “That seems like a long time for tax evasion.”
Ms. Pierce nods. “It is. The judge gave him the maximum jail sentence of five years, because he was so belligerent. Instead of trying to defend himself, he spent the whole time arguing that taxation is theft. The judge was not amused.”
“So he should be out soon. Are you looking forward to seeing him?”
Ms. Pierce shakes her head, her eyes cast down. “He could’ve gotten out after a year, but he was just as belligerent at his parole hearing. I begged him to tell them what they wanted to hear, but he wouldn’t do it. Dave even tried to help him, but Derrick wouldn’t listen. We had a huge argument after the hearing. He wanted me to quit my job. He said that he didn’t want me working for the state. We haven’t spoken since.”
Matt bites the inside of his cheek. “I’m really sorry, Ms. Pierce.”
Ms. Pierce wipes her eyes with the back of her hand, then waves it off, as if she’s erasing a blackboard. “Ancient history now. We should probably get back to work.”
+++
Matt leans his head against the window of the old Jeep Wagoneer. His eyes are closed. The Jeep stops, the soothing rhythm of the passing road grinds to a halt. Matt’s eyes pop open; he looks around disoriented. Ms. Pierce stares at him with the warm smile of a proud mother.
“We’re here, sleepyhead,” she says.
Matt rubs his eyes and blinks life into focus. The late-day sky is orange. “I think rain’s coming tomorrow. It’ll be good for our seeds.”
Ms. Pierce nods and smiles.
“Thank you,” Matt says. “Today was the most fun I’ve had since …”
“Me too.” She hands him an envelope. “This is for you.”
Matt shakes his head. “Ms. Pierce, it’s not necessary. The agreement was for payment once the harvest starts. That won’t be for six weeks or so.”
“I want to. You worked so hard today.” A brief smile flashes across her face.
Matt takes the envelope. “See you at school tomorrow. Thanks again.” Matt exits the Jeep. He turns and gives a quick wave, before walking toward Grace’s white colonial. He unlaces and removes his boots at the door. He looks back toward the curb. Ms. Pierce drives away. He steps inside; the smell of pizza wafts from the kitchen. Matt climbs the stairs, his boots in hand, and the envelope in his back pocket. He enters his bedroom.
Ryan lies in bed, his head propped up with his pillow, watching Goosebumps, and surrounded by Tootsie Roll wrappers.
“Hey, Ryan,” Matt says.
“Hi, Matt,” Ryan says, without breaking his television trance. “George was looking for you. He’s kinda mad.”
Matt grabs his towel and a change of clothes. He treads down the hall toward the bathroom. He passes George’s room. The door swings open. A gladiator decapitates a massive man with two swords on the big screen television in the background. Endless DVDs and CDs line the walls. George stands in gray Baltimore Ravens sweats.
“Where the hell have you been?” George says.
“I was working,” Matt says.
“You work for me.”
“I appreciate it George, but I can’t.”
“You can’t? After everything I did for you?”
“I do appreciate your help yesterday, but I don’t wanna do that type of work.”
“This comin’ from the dude who stole homemade porn from the principal.”
“I’m not questioning the ethics of the drug trade. It should be legal as far as I’m concerned. Cigarettes and alcohol kill far more than drugs.”
“You need to shut your mouth. I don’t have anything to do with drugs. Do you understand me?” George’s jaw is set tight.
“Yes, I do.”
George laughs. “I’m just fuckin’ with ya. Colton’s been buggin’ me for a job, that’s all. I’ve been holdin’ it for you. You shoulda told me earlier.”
“I’m sorry, George.”
“Whatever.”
“I still need your help with the computers on Saturdays.”
“You’re a pushy little bastard, ain’t ya?” George holds up his index finger. “But I like that. I like that.”
Matt looks at George dumbfounded.
George grins. “You never saw Karate Kid?”
Matt shrugs.
“Jesus Christ. Come by my room later, and I’ll play it for ya. And don’t make a mess of my bathroom. There was water on the floor yesterday.”
[ 16 ]
Forgiveness
Matt follows Emily down the congested corridor. She doesn’t stop in her normal spot for a kiss from her cowboy. She shuffles, her head held low, and her fingertips barely hanging on to her mini lunch cooler. She cuts across traffic to Ms. Pierce’s sanctuary. Matt enters shortly afterward.
“Good afternoon, lovelies,” Ms. Pierce says. “I hope you two don’t mind, but I’m gonna be antisocial today. I need to work through lunch.”
Emily turns a desk toward the window and sits down. Matt sits next to her.
“I’m sorry about last week,” he says.
Emily shrugs. “It’s totally understandable.”
“I’ll settle for being friends. It’s a lot better than nothing.”
Emily turns toward Matt and flashes a brief half smile. “I’d like that.”
“You okay?”
Emily shrugs. “You don’t wanna know. Trust me.”
“If we’re gonna be friends …”
“Boy trouble.”
“Oh.”
“Didn’t think so.”
“You can tell me.”
“It’ll be weird.”
“So what? I’m pretty weird.” Matt grins.
“Lucas wants to have sex.”
“Your boyfriend?”
“No, the mailman.” Emily frowns. “Part of me wants to.”
Matt gags; Emily doesn’t notice.
“Part of me is terrified. I guess I just don’t fully trust him.”
“I think the second part of you is the smart one, the one you should follow.”
“Seriously, Matt, you can’t just give me advice for what you want.”
Matt puts up his hands. “You’re right. So what’s the dilemma? You say no, and he breaks up with you? You say yes, and he allows you to grace his presence?”
“Sometimes I really hate you.” Emily looks away.
“I’m sorry. Too blunt?”
Emily turns to Matt, her eyes glassy. “No, it’s just you hit the nail on the head with me so easily, like I’m so … uncomplicated. Then you present the problem in a way that the answer seems so simple.”
“Simple, yes. Easy? Absolutely not. You’re not uncomplicated. It’s just, I think about you a lot. I do hope I know you really well. I hope that you can say the same about me.”
“He’s actually been really patient with me. We’ve been going out for a month, and we’ve only really kissed. He did touch my chest once—”
“Get to the point, Emily. You can leave out the details.”
“Sorry, anyway he’s been patient, but I’m just not ready.”
“Well, that’s your answer then. If he really cares, he’ll stick around. If he doesn’t, he’ll move on.”
“Just like that?”
“Pretty much.”
+++
Matt treads into the media room. Madison, Tariq, and Jared sit at the round table. Madison taps her bare wr
ist with a scowl. Jared and Tariq flick paper footballs to each other through finger uprights.
“I’m sorry, guys. I got caught up,” Matt says.
“Uh-huh,” Madison says.
“So whaddaya got, Matt?” Jared asks.
“I’m not sure I have anything,” Matt says. “It doesn’t really help us with this whole juvie thing anyway. I think we should just leave it alone.”
“On Sunday you told me you had something huge,” Madison says. “Then today you say it’s not important? I saw you eating lunch with little Ms. Bright Eyes. I thought you were all about the truth.”
“Without truth, it’s just propaganda,” Tariq says.
“I’ll show it to you on one condition,” Matt says. “We only use it if we absolutely have to, and, if we do use it, we try to use it in a way that Emily doesn’t get hurt. So we might use it as a bargaining chip, with no intention of releasing it. Do you guys agree? Otherwise I’m destroying it.”
“All right, fine,” Madison says.
“Okay,” Jared and Tariq say in unison.
Matt places his duffel bag on the table. He grabs the VHS tape labeled October 23, 2000. He hands it to Tariq.
“Are there any teachers left in the building?” Matt asks.
“A couple, but they never come in here,” Jared says.
“It’s pretty bad. I’m warning you.”
Jared shuts and locks the media room. Tariq turns on the cart-mounted television, and pops the tape into the VCR. A black screen arises.
“You need to fast forward a little,” Matt says.
Tariq presses Fast Forward on the remote. He hits Play, when he sees the four-poster bed.
“A little more,” Matt says.
Again Tariq presses Fast Forward. He stops when he sees two naked figures on the screen. Matt turns a chair around and sits down.
“You not gonna watch?” Jared asks.
“No, and you’ll wish you didn’t too,” Matt replies.
“Oh, damn. That’s Dr. Hansen. She’s fine too.”
Madison glares at Jared.
“What? … She is fine. You gotta give her props for that. Wait, who’s that dude under her?”
“It’s her husband,” Matt says in monotone.
“This is some serious shit,” Madison says to Matt. “Where did you get this? No, don’t answer that. I don’t wanna know.”
“Oh, shit, another dude,” Jared says. “He’s got a mask on. It’s about to get freaky!”
“Do you know the guy in the mask?” Madison asks.
“He looks like the same height and build of that Jacobs guy that Matt and I got pictures of,” Tariq says. “Matt?”
“I think you’re right,” Matt says, his back still turned.
“I guess this renders our pictures obsolete,” Tariq says. “It doesn’t appear Mr. Hansen has much of a problem with infidelity.”
“This is some foul shit,” Jared says. “Can you imagine lying under your wife, watchin’ some dude tappin’ that ass? Oh, damn, that’s nasty. … This shit turns him on.”
“It gets worse,” Matt says to the wall.
“Dude about to busta nut.”
“That is seriously sick,” Tariq says.
“Ewww, that’s gross,” Madison says.
“Oh, damn, that is some triflin’ shit,” Jared says.
Tariq hits the Stop button on the VCR. Matt turns around.
“That’s the type a shit you can never unsee,” Jared says, as he shakes his head. “He ate that man’s protein shake right outta his wife. That shit is foul.”
“I told you,” Matt says.
“She is fucking done,” Madison says. “All we have to do is make a few copies and send them to the school board anonymously. She’ll be fired so fucking fast.”
“What about the juvie thing? I mean, in the video, what she’s doing is gross, but it isn’t immoral. They’re all consenting adults. Me taking the video and showing it to you guys is the only immoral part.”
“This is gold, Matt. You don’t wanna use it?” Tariq asks.
“It’s not right.” Matt presses Eject on the VCR. He shoves the cassette in his bag. “I don’t wanna get her like this. I think we should keep working the juvie angle.”
“It’s a dead end,” Madison says. “I can’t find any evidence. I interviewed all the juvie kids I know from here, and they all have similar stories. They get busted by the SROs, usually for drugs, then they get sent to juvie. Some of them just had some weed, but, because it was on school grounds, they get punished worse than any adult would. It’s fucked up for sure, but not illegal.”
“Don’t you think she might be getting a cut from the JDC for sending all these kids their way?”
“I do, but I can’t prove it. I called the JDC upstate, posing as a reporter. I did find out that the more kids they get, the more funding they get. I’d bet my life that she’s getting kickbacks, but how do you prove that? I’d have to find someone willing to talk. That’s not gonna happen. This tape is all we have.”
“Do you remember what I said earlier about Mr. Hansen not caring about infidelity?” Tariq says, with a wide smile.
Matt grins. “You’re a genius, Tariq.”
“What?” Madison asks.
“Mrs. Jacobs might care,” Tariq says. “Provided there is a Mrs. Jacobs?”
“Oh there is,” Matt says. “I could go see Jacobs and use the tape as leverage for info on Dr. Hansen.”
“Wait a second,” Madison says, her eyes wide. “I was talking about sending some anonymous tapes, not much risk. You’re talking about extortion and meeting this guy face-to-face. He could literally kill you.”
Jared laughs.
Madison glowers at Jared. “I’m not joking, Jared, not even one fucking bit. This guy’s pretty rich, right? A divorce would cost him millions. People kill for a lot less. I don’t like it. It’s too dangerous.”
“The alternative is to release a private consensual tape that’s gonna hurt innocent people,” Matt says.
“You mean, Emily.”
Matt nods. “I’m not saying that I go see this guy with no plan. We’d have to figure out a safe way to do it.”
“We shouldn’t rush into anything,” Tariq says. “Let’s at least take a few days to think about it. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” they say.
Matt stands and throws his duffel bag over his shoulder, the precious tape inside.
“I’ll see you guys tomorrow,” Matt says.
“Where are you going?” Madison asks.
Matt shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s a nice day. Maybe I’ll go for a walk.”
Jared laughs. “A walk? What are you, like ninety?”
Matt smirks. “I’ll see you guys.”
He strolls out of the media room, through the empty linoleum halls, and exits the main entrance. Emily sits on a concrete bench, gazing into the distance. He approaches her.
“What are you doing?” Matt asks.
She looks up at Matt, her face blurred by the sun’s rays. “I thought he’d surprise me. I thought, if he passed the test …”
Matt squints down at her. “Lucas?”
She nods.
“What surprise? What test?” Matt sits next to Emily on the bench.
She shakes her head, looking at the ground. “It’s stupid. … I’m stupid.”
“You and I both know that’s not true. You’re the smartest person I know. Have you ever even gotten an A-minus?”
She turns to Matt, her face paved with tear streaks. “Getting good grades doesn’t make me smart.”
“It certainly doesn’t make you stupid.”
“No, I make me stupid.” She holds her head in her hands.
Matt puts his arm around her and pulls her toward him. She doesn’t resist. After a moment, she pulls away, sits up straight, and wipes her face with the sleeve of her T-shirt.
“I’m stupid, because it’s so obvious to me now. And I was gonna sleep with him. If he wasn’t su
ch a dumbass, he could’ve easily convinced me.”
“What happened?” he asks.
“I told him the truth—that I wasn’t ready, that I needed more time.”
Matt nods.
“All he had to say was that he’d wait for me. It was like he was a different person. He told me about all these girls who supposedly like him and how he passed up so many opportunities to hook up, because he was with me. Then he told me how he has needs that have to be satisfied.” She looks at Matt. “Who the hell says that anyway? Needs that have to be satisfied? Does he think he’s R. Kelly? I told him to try his hand, that it wasn’t my responsibility. Then he said that was the whole point of having a girlfriend. Otherwise, why bother?”
“I’m sorry.”
Emily frowns. “No, you’re not. You’re probably ecstatic.”
Matt smiles. “Ecstatic might be a bit strong. How about glad or content? Content seems to be honest enough without being totally insensitive to you.”
Emily laughs. “You’re such a dork.”
Matt grabs her hand and squeezes.
+++
Matt sits silently in Tariq’s Nissan Sentra, watching the corn and soybean fields flash by, the occasional new development marking some farmer’s retirement package. Tariq parks on the shoulder, next to a small stretch of woods. The occasional car whooshes past. Tariq looks over at Matt.
“You ready?” Tariq asks.
“Probably not,” Matt replies.
“We can abort this whole thing, you know. You got some brass balls even considering this.”
“No, I can’t.” Matt takes a deep breath and opens the car door.
“I’ll be waiting right here.”
Matt disappears into the woods. The crunch of the leaves and the sounds of the birds comfort and center him. He looks carefully at the landmarks, mapping the most efficient return trip in his mind. After a quarter mile walk, he sees the pond beyond the wood line. A pump shoots water into the air, creating a fountain and aerating the otherwise stagnant water. Ducks paddle themselves with their orange webbed feet. A gaggle of geese eats grass along the edge. An asphalt sidewalk wraps around the acre pond, with a few empty benches for rest. On the hill above the pond sits the backside of a single-story redbrick building, with a gray metal roof. With the woods and the hill for cover, the pond is secluded. Matt walks along the asphalt sidewalk and up the hill to the building. He creeps along the side, to the front corner of the structure. He scans the parking lot. It’s normally empty on Sundays, but today one car sits in the lot, a black SUV, trimmed in chrome. Jacobs Land Development is featured prominently on the building in gold lettering.
Against the Grain Page 18
