by Oasis
Crutchfield backed away from a closet filled with camouflage clothing and various styles of army boots. “I always knew you were a little off, but to be slow and off brands you retarded.”
“You’re worse than my wife. What are you fussing about now?”
“It finally sank into your mentally-challenged head that Jap is dead.”
Thomas examined a plastic model of a .50-millimeter machine gun. “I never said that.”
“Not per se, but you implied it. What does ‘might have served our country well’ mean? For some apparent reason you think he’s not capable of serving our ass-backward country anymore.”
“Uh…” Thomas opened a drawer. “You made me lose my train of thought.”
“Impossible; you’ve never been trained to think. So what does ‘might have’ mean?”
Conrad stretched his mouth as wide as he could.
Jewels pushed the barrel in. “I’m only gonna say this once, so turn your ears on.”
He nodded.
“I know all about your extracurricular activities. I’ve saved everything in your computer files on my CD. All of it, including the pictures and the parents who rent you their kids.” She tightened her grip on his stringy hair and pushed the gun deeper until he began to gag. “Sick, perverted bastard, you probably like it this way. You want to keep me quiet?”
He nodded as best as he could.
“You filed some bogus charges against my partner GP.”
His brows furrowed.
“Greg Patterson and his wife.”
His eyes widened.
“Now you remember. You have two days to drop the charges or I’ll turn my CD of your child molesting ring over to the cops, if I don’t decide to come back and rid the world of you myself. Did I make myself clear enough for you?”
“Hmm.” He confirmed.
She released his hair to show him the CD. “Two days.”
Another nod.
“Good.” She delivered a blow to his head so hard, that when Conrad awoke from the realms of never-never land, he’d certainly have a splitting headache.
“Well, make something up. You’re due to tell me a good lie.” Crutchfield waited on Thomas’s answer.
“I’m leaning toward believing Jap is amongst the dead.”
“Thought so.” Crutchfield went to the door. “Let’s get out of here. It’s nothing here but stinking boot camp memories.” He reached for the light switch and noticed a wastepaper basket positioned directly beneath it.
Thomas had a smirk on his face while Crutchfield sifted through the rubbish. “Looks like you’re skilled in the sanitation department. How long have you been a professional garbage picker?”
“Ever since your grandmother showed me the ropes.” He picked out an empty watch box, returned to the living room, and found Miles snoring, laid face down on the bare floor.
Crutchfield shook Miles.
“Forgive me, Momma. I’ll make it right.” Drool pooled between his scruffy face and the floor.
“Get up, Miles.” More shaking.
He opened his eyes.
Crutchfield stuck the watch box in his face. “Was Jap wearing this watch when he disappeared?”
He shrugged. “I thought I told you to get out.” He closed his eyes again.
Thomas entered the room.
Crutchfield tossed Thomas the watch box.
Thomas read the words displayed on the box. Suunto’s X 9 GPS Watch.
Kitchie sat on the building’s stoop watching the neighborhood children playing stickball. She thought about all the ups and downs that had taken place in her life. She even recalled the time she had stormed out of her parents’ house, holding GP’s hand, after announcing that she was going to marry GP whether they gave her their blessing or not.
“Snap out of it. Come back down here with us.” Desmond flashed his Academy Award-winning smile.
“Hey, Desmond. How are you?”
“I’m good. What about you? I saw the newspaper. That’s fucked up how that Reynolds cat been abusing kids all these years. I hate that your kids got mixed up in that bullshit.”
“Me, too. The state placed some of the kids with another organization until the courts decide Reynolds’s fate. I’m officially a volunteer, which is a plus for me. I get to spend time with my children until my husband and I can bring them home.”
Desmond watched her lips move as she spoke. “How’s your little man? Is he…”
“No, he hasn’t spoken a word since the incident. The doctors say he’ll be fine. Something will trigger him to talk again.”
Desmond started up the steps. “It won’t rain forever. The sun will eventually shine on you. Take it easy, with your fine self.”
“I’m glad you think so.” GP poked his head through a hall window just above the stoop. “Mrs. Patterson, come upstairs.” He shot Desmond a look of contempt.
When Kitchie rounded the corner, GP was leaning against the wall near Jewels’s door. “Is there something you wanna tell me?”
“No. Is it something you want to hear me say?”
“You got this guy in your face, cracking on you and shit.”
“He wasn’t in my face, GP. And as far as the compliment, you don’t have a problem with people admiring me when it comes to making sales for Street Prophet. What you should’ve done is sat back and watched how I handled the situation, instead of making your presence known. Then, we wouldn’t be on the verge of an argument.” She touched his face. “I never thought that I had to reassure you. I’m in love with you more than I was yesterday. It’s been that way since the day we met.” She held up her hand. “That’s why this ring is on my finger. And you’re kind of cute.”
GP smiled. “I got some good news.”
“Share it. I can use it.”
“I rather you see it for yourself.” He took her by the hand and led her into the apartment.
Her eyes widened. “Tell me the truth. Where did all that come from?” She was staring at five stacks of money, each containing five thousand dollars.
“You can’t handle the truth, so we’ll call it a…gift.”
Jewels swiveled her chair around from her PC monitor. “Did y’all know that, as of May 16, the 2005 census states that there are over five hundred-thousand registered sex offenders, and the number of reported child abuse cases are in the motherfucking millions?”
GP picked up a stack of rubber-banded bills. “This is to get us a place.”
Kitchie jumped in his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist. “We’re bringing the kids home?” She kissed him with passion. “I love you, Papi. I can’t wait to tell Secret and Junior.”
“The other money is to buy me some more time with Squeeze.”
“Fuck y’all, ignoring me like I wasn’t talking.” Jewels turned back to the computer and typed in meganslaw.com.
Kitchie’s excitement vanished. “Squeeze is a fool. What are you going to tell him about the rest of his money?”
“Come over here and look at this.” Jewels beckoned them with the wave of a hand. When they were gathered around, she poked the computer screen with a finger. “Look at that.”
Conrad Tharp’s name, date of birth, and current address were listed. He was a registered sex offender.
“Isn’t that the guy who’s pressing charges against us?” Kitchie looked at GP.
“Not if I can help it.” Jewels shut the computer down.
“Deranged asshole,” Kitchie said, spite dripping from her voice. “Here I am thinking he was hanging around our booth recklessly eyeballing me, but the puto was sizing up my baby. Talking about taking pictures for some damn online magazine.” She rolled her eyes. “Now I’m really pissed. So what about the rest of Squeeze’s money?” She rested a hand on a cocked hip.
“We’re still working on that,” GP said, thinking about Conrad Tharp’s lusting over nine-year-old Secret. That’ll cause me to break my principle and be violent. “Honestly, right now I don’t have a clue as to ho
w Squeeze is gonna get paid. I wish money grew on trees.”
“That’s why we’re stalling him with this payment.” Jewels had a few clues, though GP didn’t approve of them.
He rubbed the small of Kitchie’s back. “How about you call Secret and tell her that we’re going to bring them home.”
“A man who pays his bills a day early. Now that’s what I call a proactive businessman.” Squeeze offered an oversized leather chair with a hand gesture. “Have a seat. Can I get you something? Matter of fact, Hector, bring GP a shot of Louis XIII.”
“No, that’s okay.” GP held up a hand. “It’s not…I don’t have all your money. Not yet, anyway.”
“Yeah, hold that order, Hector.” Squeeze stood with his back to a spectacular view of the sunrise. “From the sounds of it, you’re not gonna have my cash tomorrow, either.”
GP was already nauseous, being up so high, sitting this close to a floor-to-ceiling window facing the horizon. But he became more nervous the instant Hector stood behind him, smacking on a piece of chewing gum. “From the looks of it, no,” he said while watching Hector over his shoulder.
“I warned you not to mishandle my cash when you borrowed it. Now, let me recite the fine print: I have zero tolerance when it comes to getting what’s mine. Get my cash up.”
“Look, Squeeze, I’m gonna handle it.” He jerked a thumb toward Hector. “Would you call Hubba Bubba off? He gives me the creeps.” GP dropped four stacks of rubber-banded bills on the seat beside Squeeze. “It’s twenty thousand right here.”
“Twenty doesn’t cover your interest rate.”
GP kept an eye on Hector. “Technically, my payment isn’t due until tomorrow. I brought you this money in good faith. Don’t trip, Squeeze.”
“You know what? You’re right. Come tomorrow, I’m gonna expect my hundred-fifteen thousand. If I don’t get it, I’m gonna tax you accordingly.”
“I’m gonna need a few weeks to clear my tab.”
“You know the rules.” Squeeze dismissed GP with the wave of a hand, then turned back to his picturesque window view.
Hector crossed the spacious room with GP at his side.
“GP,” Squeeze said, never looking away from the breathtaking horizon.
“Yeah.”
“After tomorrow, the full court press is on.”
Crutchfield entered the forensics lab and knocked on the back of the technician’s head. “Hey, packed shit, what do you make of this?”
Anderson Ford caressed his sandy-colored hair. “Why can’t you ever use my name? Everyone else calls me Ford. I can go for that. Furthermore, I’d appreciate it.”
“You’re an ungrateful, confused sperm, you know, Ford. I was being nice. I could’ve chosen a few other choice names that are more befitting—fudge-packer, dookie dick, frustrated queer, penis pruner, pillow biter, cum—”
Ford threw up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, packed shit is fine.”
“So, rectum fish, what can you tell me about this?”
Ford took the object from Crutchfield’s hand, then adjusted his granny glasses on the middle of his pointy nose. “It’s an empty watch box. I knew you possessed the awareness of a brick, but if you needed me to tell you what this is, I can no longer give you brick credit.” He turned back to face a tray of bullet fragments.
Crutchfield thumped Ford’s head.
“Ow.” Ford rubbed.
“Nut breath, I know what type of box it is. I wanna know about the watch that was in the box.”
“You should have said that.” He glanced at the box once more. “The watch that was in here is the best GPS watch on the market. It’s big amongst ROTC students. It’s capable of storing up to fifty routes of over a hundred miles apiece, or the routes can be combined for more distance.” He slid the watch box across the table to where Crutchfield was now standing. “If a person were wearing that watch and somehow managed to get lost, they could hit the Mark Home button and the watch will guide them to the location they started from. Crutchfield, this is a good watch if you’re into GPS gadgets. You can even trace your children’s hourly whereabouts from a computer with this thing.”
“So what you’re telling me is if someone had that watch on, I could find them anytime I wanted to.”
“Duh, didn’t you just hear me say that? But not anybody can find someone wearing one of these.”
“Why not?”
“Because the seeker has to have the code to this particular watch. Do you have any idea of how many of these things are out there? Literally millions. Why does this watch concern you?”
“I have reason to believe that Jap Silex—”
“The missing high school kid? ROTC honoree?”
Crutchfield sat on the edge of the table. “Bingo. I think he’s wearing the watch that came out of this box. Can you track down the code?”
“Can I squeeze your Charmin?” Ford made his brows jump.
Crutchfield’s stomach flipped as his anger swelled. “Don’t make me put on a pair of gloves and pound you until my unborn daughter graduates from college.”
“I’ll have to get around some red tape, but it’s possible that I can get the code. I’ll start with Jap’s service provider.”
“How long will it take?”
“Few days, few weeks…”
“I want it in a week.” Crutchfield went for the door.
Ford made an ugly face and stuck out his tongue.
“I see everything,” Crutchfield said without looking back.
CHAPTER 15
Destiny’s Child was on the radio crooning a love ballad about catering to their men. Kitchie increased the volume a notch. “Papi, if I could blow, I’d sing this song in your ear all night long.”
“You can pretend. That’ll be cool with me.”
She blushed.
Wendy’s parking lot was nearly filled. GP filled in an available space. “I hope you really like the apartment. It’s not much, but it’ll do for the time being.”
She ran a hand over her ponytail. “Liking it isn’t a concern of mine. All that matters to me is that it’s ours. I can’t wait to furnish it and have Social Services inspect it. I’m too ready to bring the kids home.”
He traced the length of her arm with a fingertip. “I apologize for all that I haven’t been. I never meant for any of this to happen. What I should’ve done was taken that job. Kitchie, I swear, if I could go back and change it all, I would.”
“Papi, things happen. It’s the way of this screwed-up world. I haven’t been…I could do a much better job at controlling how I say things when I’m angry. I be tripping, I know. You accept my apology?” She closed her eyes and puckered up.
GP forgave her with a passionate French kiss, reminiscent of their first.
She licked her top lip. “Let’s somehow get Squeeze’s money, move in our apartment, and store this entire ordeal in the past. You, me, and the kids will start brand new.”
GP opened the door.
“Hey, wait a minute. You didn’t ask me what I wanted.”
“We can’t afford to eat out. I have to handle something; that’s all.”
She watched him bop his way into the restaurant. “I love that man with every heart beat.”
Jewels’s car phone rang.
Kitchie put the radio on mute. “Hello.”
GP bypassed the line, excusing himself as he made it to the counter. “Can I see the manager, please?”
The cashier looked him up and down, then crinkled her lips. Another fucking complainer. She picked up a phone and told the manager that he was being summoned.
GP found contentment as he observed a young couple interacting with their infant child. It reminded him so much of Kitchie and himself when Secret was just a little bigger than a football. Proud parents.
“Is there something I can help you with, sir?”
He turned to face a clean-shaven, buzz-cut wearing, middle-aged black man who reminded him more of a drill sergeant than a Wendy’s mana
ger. GP looked into his murky irises and braced himself for the worst. “You don’t know me, but you more than likely remember the incident. I was in your drive-thru about a month ago. I ordered about fifty dollars’ worth of food that I took off with without paying for.”
“I remember quite well. You caused—”
“Please don’t tell me; just let me explain.”
The line of patrons hushed and zoomed in on GP’s conversation.
He could feel that he was under observation. “All I wanted to do was break up the monotony at home. Sit down with my wife and kids to share a decent meal together. It’s no excuse, but it doesn’t happen often in my household. I’m fully aware that what I done was wrong, and I apologize for any harm I may have caused.” He placed a hundred dollar bill on the counter. “If I could have paid it back sooner, I would have. The extra is for your troubles.”
Even the staff was now gathered around the manager, listening to GP’s confession.
“Why?” The manager removed the money. “Why did you make it a point to come back here under these circumstances? I don’t understand; you’d gotten away with it. People who are faced with hard times would’ve kept going and never looked back.”
“Because I want my family to always be proud to have me as a husband and a father.”
He offered GP a hand. “Thank you. Things will work out for you. Honorable things happen to virtuous people. You’re proof that there is still some good in the world. If there’s ever anything I can help you with, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“How about a job? I could really use one.”
“Come see me the day after tomorrow, and we’ll talk about it.”
One person clapped, which urged the staff and patrons alike to follow suit.
A mahogany-colored woman wearing a straw hat and a sundress nodded in approval. “That was all right. Now that’s something you don’t see every day,” she said to no one particular.
GP turned to leave, feeling good about himself, and saw Kitchie standing there.
