The Fourth Stall

by Chris Rylander

  “You’ll be sorry if you hurt him, Staples,” Nubby said, looking pretty intimidating for a seventh grader holding a rubber trout.

  “Oooh, will I?” Staples said with a sneer.

  That’s when Kitten did what Kitten does best: something crazy. He walked a few steps over to the black Honda with the huge spoiler. He raised the rake above his head. He held it there for a moment while everyone watched.

  Then he slammed it onto the roof of the car. In the empty Yard the clang was deafening.

  “No!” PJ screamed. I heard some of his buddies say things that would’ve made my mom faint.

  Kitten dragged the rake across the roof, and the screeching noise made us all wince and grit our teeth. Except for Staples—he just stood there smiling. Kitten finished and the screeches faded. It was hard to see from my spot, but we all knew there were some nasty scratches on the car. One of the most disturbing smiles I’d ever seen spread slowly across Kitten’s face like an expanding pool of blood. I think the rest of us in the Yard got chills up our spines all at the same time.

  PJ made a move to go after Kitten, but the little psycho raised the rake again.

  “Stay where you are or I’ll do the back window next,” he said in his small, quiet voice. PJ complied as if he was being barked at by a drill instructor. Kitten’s arms shook slightly, not from nerves I don’t think but from excitement. He wanted PJ to keep coming at him so he could smash the back window.

  “Now let him go or we’ll make that car look like a piece of Swiss cheese,” Nubby said.

  Staples laughed. He rocked back on his heels and then shook his head.

  “Go ahead, do it. I don’t care,” he said.

  There was a dead silence. I think my crew didn’t really know what to do.

  Then Kitten shrugged and raised the rake again. “Okay, we will.”

  “Wait!” PJ yelled. “Wait. You know what? I’m out of here. Don’t hurt my baby. I need it; just . . .” He took car keys from his pocket and moved toward the car. He opened the driver’s side door.

  “Yeah, I’m going to go, too, Staples. I got a baseball scholarship, you know?” said another of the high school kids.

  “Yeah, I don’t really want to get my nose raked off by some psycho little kid. I got a pretty face, right?” said the high school kid with spiky blond hair. “Sorry, Staples.”

  The three of them got into the black Honda. The car backed up into the gravel road and then sped away, leaving a trail of dust behind it. Staples stared at it silently.

  “Let him go, Staples. You’re outnumbered,” Vince said.

  My men all took a few steps toward Staples.

  That’s when he hauled me up by my shirt again. He wrapped an arm around my neck and squeezed. I struggled to breathe, and I felt the blood rush to my face. His other hand took out his phone and he flipped it open.

  “What are you doing?” Vince asked.

  “I’m calling in an anonymous tip,” Staples said calmly.

  “To who?” Vince asked, looking a little worried.

  “Here’s the thing,” Staples said as his fingers pressed the keys on his phone. “Everyone thinks you’re all so perfect. That I’m a delinquent and you’re just these saints when, in fact, we’re not all that different. But now they’re all going to see you for what you really are—just a bunch of scheming, greedy, rich kids with too much time and no accountability.”

  I didn’t like where this was headed.

  “Yeah, I’d like to speak to Principal Dickerson,” Staples said into the phone. “Sure, I’ll hold.”

  Staples’s arm stayed gripped around my neck. Not too hard that I couldn’t breathe, but it hurt.

  “Wait, Staples, maybe we can work something out,” Vince said, panic rising in his voice. He knew as well as I did that if Staples directed Dickerson to our office in the East Wing bathroom we’d all be expelled.

  “Oh yeah?” Staples said. “I doubt it.”

  I looked at my would-be rescuers. They looked at each other, unsure of what to do. I didn’t see Great White. During the commotion he had somehow snuck off. I hoped Staples wouldn’t notice. And that whatever Great White was doing, he had a plan.

  “We can start negotiating by you telling me where you took my money,” Staples said.

  Everybody seemed unsure of what to do next. Vince also knew he couldn’t tell him that, because then Staples would likely still turn us in and we’d lose our leverage. I relaxed a little bit. I was going to conserve my energy.

  Vince stepped forward as the others stepped back. He held up his hands in front of him.

  “Look, Staples, don’t do anything crazy, okay? Let’s just talk about this. We didn’t actually kidnap your dog; he’s just fine, okay?” Vince said.

  “Oops, too late,” Staples said. “The secretary is connecting me now.”

  We all waited and I don’t think anybody breathed. So this was it. It was all over.

  “Yeah, Mr. Dickerson?” Staples said into the phone. My head was close to Staples from where I was, and I heard Dickerson’s unmistakable voice faintly from somewhere above me. Staples wasn’t bluffing; he really had called the school. “Yeah, I want to report some—”

  That’s when Great White struck. I heard a soft whizzing noise and then felt liquid splash onto my face. It may have been only water from Great White’s squirt gun, but it had surprised Staples just enough for him to loosen his grip on me ever so slightly. That was all I needed. I threw an elbow into his side, and he dropped me completely.

  “Ow!” He grabbed his ribs as I rolled away from him.

  I heard his phone hit the ground, and then the others were upon him.

  “Don’t move!” Nubby yelled.

  Staples tried to run, but Kitten got him first.

  I heard Kitten’s squeal of a battle cry as he picked up his weapon, ready to rake Staples’s face like it was a pile of leaves. He lunged with the handle end first, and the heavy wood cracked against Staples’s kneecap. Staples hit the dirt hard and rolled to his back, moaning.

  I picked up his phone and hit the disconnect button while my crew surrounded him. I thought they were going to tenderize Staples like a choice-cut sirloin, the way they were approaching him. He was holding his knee where Kitten had hit him, but otherwise he looked calm. Unafraid—like a kid who’s already sunk lower than the punishment of a physical beating.

  “Let us take him out, Mac. He’s a lying sack of—” Kitten started.

  “Hang on,” I interrupted. “We’re not going to stoop to that level.”

  In truth, it wasn’t about stooping or not. I looked at Vince, and he had the strangest expression on his face, like he was miles away from this place. Then Vince looked right at me and I saw it. Even with everything that had happened, he felt truly bad for Staples. After all, Vince knew what that was like: to have to give money to parents and not to have a dad around. Staples’s and Vince’s situations weren’t all that different, and they had grown up right near each other their whole lives. But still, we somehow had to make sure he wasn’t going to turn us in to Dickerson the first chance he got. We couldn’t just let him go.

  “Look, Staples,” I said. “I understand that you did all this because of your family situation. You’re trying to help out your dad. But that doesn’t—”

  “You don’t know anything,” Staples interrupted. He didn’t sound mad, though, just empty. “I’m not doing any of this for my loser dad.”

  I waited for him to continue, and after a short silence, he did.

  “I’m doing all of this for my sister.”

  Of course. The picture I had seen in his office. He had looked just like a regular kid in that picture. I guess there was a time when he had been different, when things were better for him.

  “My sister,” he repeated. He wasn’t talking directly at me or anybody. He was looking at the ground as if the dirt could talk back or would understand what he was going through. “She was taken from us a few years ago. She lives with a fost
er family now. I’m only trying to help my dad get back on his feet so I can get my sister back for us. For me. But my dad, he just doesn’t seem to care.”

  I didn’t know what to say. None of us did. So we waited for him to continue. But when he finally did, some life had come back to him and he looked right at me, his face full of anger, but whether he was really mad at me or at his dad I wasn’t sure. Maybe both.

  “All you rich kids. Kids like you who have everything. You just don’t get how easy you have it. You get everything, you have everything, you don’t even think twice about it. You just go through life and there’s always stuff there, and family there, and you have everything so easily and you don’t even get it.”

  “I used to live right near you, Staples. At Bella Vista trailer park, don’t you remember? We even played football together a few times.”

  Staples shook his head slightly and squinted up at me. “Don’t remember and don’t care to, Richie McMoney-Bags.”

  I sighed.

  “I’m not rich, Staples,” I said, but my words sounded empty.

  Because he was right. I may have used to live near him in the same trailer park, but now I did have it a lot easier than he did. Of course it was easier for me to run a clean, successful business when I had no other worries in life and all of the money I made could go right back into the business. And I had a real family; I couldn’t imagine what it would be like without them. I was rich. And he wasn’t, and I had rubbed it in his face earlier in my office. He hardly had a family, didn’t seem to have any real friends, and had a failing, corrupt business. No wonder he hated me so much.

  I looked at Vince again. He looked back at me. But he didn’t have to—I knew already what I needed to do. This kid on the ground in front of me, who had tried to destroy my life, deserved some pro bono services.

  “Look, Staples, how about we team up after all? I mean, not like in a cheesy way where we’re now like best friends who hold hands and sing pop songs together while prancing through the meadow. But more so I’ll be your business adviser. I can help you run your business better; I can help you make more money. The right way. I’ll even start you off with a business loan. We’ll get your sister back for you.”

  “I don’t need your help,” he said, scoffing. “She’s my sister. I’m her brother. I can get her back on my own.”

  I sighed and looked at Vince again. He just shrugged.

  “Well, if you ever change your mind, you know where to find me,” I said. “In the meantime I’m going to need to keep some of the stuff we found in your shed as collateral. The notebooks detailing bets you took and other records that might prompt the authorities to look further into any other unsavory activities you might have going on. If you ever tip off Dickerson, then we’ll have to tip off the cops about what you’ve been up to, and then you’ll never get your sister back.”

  He glared at me.

  “Hey, I don’t want it to be like this. But I clearly can’t trust you without any insurance,” I said. “I offered my help and you turned it down, so this is what we’re left with.”

  “Yeah, whatever, Christian,” Staples said. “Keep that stuff, I don’t care. I’m not going to say anything to anybody.” He dropped his head again, making no effort to get up. He just ran his hand through the dirt as if digging for the answer to all his problems.

  There was still an edge to his voice I didn’t so much care for, but I could tell he wasn’t going to fight anymore. He looked about as defeated and hopeless as the Cubs were of ever winning the World Series.

  “The name’s Mac, by the way,” I said to him.

  “Whatever, Mac,” he said without looking up.

  “We’re not actually going to let him go, are we?” Kitten asked. I could tell he still wanted more payback for the Shed incident. I would have to make it up to him with money once I got my Funds back in my hands.

  “Yes. It’s not worth the trouble. Plus, he clearly hasn’t gotten too many breaks in his life. Everybody needs a break once in a while.”

  Staples scoffed at this, but I think it was more in agreement with what I’d said than anything else.

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  We all walked back to the bikes. Staples just sat there on the ground staring at the dirt with a blank look in his eyes. He looked like a broken toy.

  “By the way,” I said as we approached the bikes. “What’s with all your weapons? You couldn’t find anything that might’ve actually scared them?”

  Nubby laughed and waved the trout chew toy at me. “Hey, we were in a hurry. This was the only stuff we could find in Staples’s shed on such short notice.”

  Great White came running out from behind a nearby tree now that it was clear the conflict was over.

  “I owe you,” I said.

  “Bloody right you do,” he said, and laughed. “A few thousand quid ought to do it.”

  I chuckled, too, even though I knew he wasn’t kidding. I was going to have to pay him a pretty hefty sum for what he’d done for me. I wasn’t really sure how many dollars a few thousand quid would be, though. It must have been another one of those British things.

  “Why the heck did you decide to bring a water gun, anyway?” I asked.

  Great White laughed. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it, mate?”

  I grinned and nodded. He had a point. I couldn’t really argue; that dumb water gun had probably saved my business, my permanent record, and my reputation.

  Before we left, I went to Staples’s car and grabbed his car keys from the ignition. I shoved them into my pocket and then stood on the pegs on the back wheels of Vince’s bike. I grabbed his backpack to steady myself.

  “Let’s go,” I said, and we rode.

  Chapter 28

  It took a good thirty minutes to get back to our neighborhood. On the way I asked for more details about the raid. In addition to finding the Emergency Fund and the Game Fund under the floorboards, they’d also found the same extensive logs that Tyrell and I had found Saturday of bets placed and money taken and kids who Staples had paid off to throw games. Oddly enough, they hadn’t found much money besides what he had stolen from me. My crew had left all the records and money back at Vince’s house with Tyrell guarding them. We’d store all of Staples’s records in a safe place for insurance, just in case he ever tried to come back. And we’d divvy up whatever extra money they did find to all the kids he’d swindled it from.

  They also told me how they found out we were at the Yard. After the phone cut out they grabbed whatever weapons they could find and went to the school to check things out. There they found Fred curled up into a little ball. He must have been feeling pretty guilty because as soon as they got him unfurled, Fred told them that Staples usually brought people who needed to be taught a lesson out to the Yard. They jumped back on their bikes and rode on out to save me.

  Everybody was sweating pretty hard by the time we got back into town. I thanked them all at least a billion times and told them to meet me in my office at morning recess. After we parted ways, I had Vince ride to Staples’s house. I went onto the porch and tossed his car keys inside the mailbox.

  Then we rode to my house. Once in my driveway I hopped off the bike and faced Vince. He looked at me, squinting into the sun.

  “Hey, Mac, I’m glad you’re okay. I was pretty worried there for a while,” he said.

  “Yeah, me, too. Thanks for rescuing me.”

  “Hey, no problem. It’s like my grandma always says, ‘A real friend is someone who is there for you when he’d rather be anywhere else.’”

  I smiled. “Hey, that one’s pretty good. She really says that?”

  “No, of course not. I made some changes. Hers goes something like this: ‘A friend is like an eagle with no wings because they’ll both get eaten by a giant spaghetti noodle.’”

  We both laughed.

  “Hey, why didn’t you guys ever call the cops?” I asked.

  “We didn’t really know for sure if you really were out at t
he Yard. Plus, the bullies didn’t want the cops around to witness the sort of revenge that they were planning,” Vince said.

  “Makes sense,” I said with a shrug. “Hey, Vince?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m sorry again that I actually thought that you were the traitor for a while. It was horrible to have believed it,” I said. I looked at him, not knowing what else to say.

  He shook his head. “Remember a few years ago when I was so convinced that you stole my Ron Santo rookie card because you just happened to buy one on the same day that mine went missing? I was so mad at you that I wouldn’t even look at you, let alone talk to you. Yet, when I found my card a few days later, you forgave me instantly. You weren’t even mad that I suspected you. So now I figure that I should do the same.”

  “I still feel bad, that’s all,” I said.

  “I’m just glad you’re still alive. And that we got all our money back and that we’re still friends and business partners and stuff like that.” He rolled his bike’s front tire back and forth across a line on the sidewalk.

  “Me, too. That was like the worst three days of my life,” I said as I scratched my eye. I thought I’d gotten some sand in it while I was on the ground out at the Yard.

  “Hey, you’re not going to get all weepy on me, are you?” Vince said.

  “No, no it was just—”

  “Because it’s totally okay if you do,” Vince interrupted. “I’ve actually been collecting tears. I’m planning on building a time machine that runs on tears, bleach, and oranges. Then I can go way back and tell the Cubs not to trade away Greg Maddux and draft Mark Prior. Oh, it would also be cool to, like, see the Gettysburg Address or something, too.”

  He had stepped off his bike and was now holding a little clear tube up to my cheek. He had a serious look on his face, as if missing a single tear would mean the end of the world.

  I pushed his hand away. He had such perfect timing.

  “Come on! Get out of here with that,” I said. “Where did you get that anyways? How long have you been carrying that vial around, waiting for a time like this?”