Trapped with a Way Out

by Jeffery Martinez

  "Come on."

  Jake saw that the teen was too stunned to initiate movement on his own, so an oversized hand pulled the faded black sweatshirt through the doorway, and cut off Vincent's path into the office by closing the door. A soft shove got the teen's feet to move. Beside them, their distorted reflections traveled down the length of the pool. They did not speak, and made quick progress down the sloping land, through the trees, and to the tall barred fence that surrounded the property. The two easily found a divot in the rain softened dirt where Jake had deepened a hole when he had slipped under the fence to trespass onto the Rodriguezs' property. A hand made Vincent go first, and then Jake followed. He covered up the wide, yet shallow, hole, spread a coating of crackling leaves over it, and then took the thin shoulder and directed it forward, down towards the thick black road they could see and the car that was parked to the side of it, obscured by the shadows from a cluster of trees. Trees were numerous in the area. Vegetation was everywhere, clearing the air of the haze of smog that hovers over the horizon, brightening the sky.

  Fast. Everything had changed so quickly, Vincent blinked at the colored sky. One minute he was there, the next he was here. What were they going to think? He had disappeared. He didn't take anything with him, he didn't steal from them, so they wouldn't mind if he left without saying anything. Right? Rodriguez wouldn't have to drive him home now…

  Vincent's mind cleared as the car turned onto the road, and, with the return of comprehensible thought, the teen sighed and looked at the passenger window where he could see the ghost of Jake's and his own reflections with the landscape behind it. This was reality, everything else was a dream. But a nervous knot that he could not ignore had tied itself in Vincent's stomach, and the stubborn thing refused to go away, or loosen in any way.

  The boy licked his lips and casually shifted his eyes to the driver's seat and then to the glass in front of them. His voice was quiet, but steady. "How did you find me?"

  Jake didn't look at him as he took his time answering the question. He could sense the boy's unease. A few extra seconds would tighten the knot and shorten the teen's breaths, so Jake took these seconds and prolonged them. Half a minute passed. "I have my sources." Then he continued as Vincent's jaw tightened and released repetitively. "I didn't get anyone to look them up… It was just me and my computer. Her husband's in biogenetic whatever-you-call-it crap…just a bit of looking up and I found a likely area and went on from there. Helped that her daughter gave out directions for a party on some blog. Stupid girl…" Most of it was a lie. He had found the Rodriguez family online, discovered who they are, but he went to a different source to find the woman's address. He had his sources…

  Vincent's muscles relaxed, allowing his body to slouch and fit the contour of the seat. Jake noticed, and the reaction moved his hands along the curve of the steering wheel, altering his grip, and he cracked his neck as he blew out a short breath.

  He inhaled. "You thought I was going to do something to them?"

  Vincent blinked at the man, observing the details in his face that showed his weariness, the darkened rings under his eyes that only made their appearance as Vincent continued to stare at him. His tone told the boy that he was insulted by Vincent's anxiety. He was cross, and tired.

  Vincent closed his eyes and maneuvered his hands into his sweatshirt as he slipped down in the seat. His chin touched the collar of his sweatshirt.

  "I'm sorry." The teen spoke over the collar.

  The brown eyes blinked sharply and the tired face hardened. "You should be." The car was turning along a bend in the road. "You're making my life Hell, right now, Max. I told you to stop this…" He sighed a growl and glanced bitterly at the boy. "You're a royal pain in the ass. You know that? A pain in the ass."

  Red opened and received the look through a shield of dark bangs. He held his gaze as Jake looked away, a low frown pulling down the rest of his features. The dark eyes were narrowed at the road.

  "Sorry."

  The frown grumbled but eased up a little. Vincent's eyes were running over the distinctive impressions that spelled 'Airbag', in front of him. Hoping to end the discussion there, a pale hand rose and clicked the button to turn on the radio. The antenna could be heard, extending from the back of the car, but it stopped and retracted again when Jake turned it off. Shit. Now he's going to be mad and want to talk again…Vincent leaned towards the door, pretending to be engrossed in the passing view of eucalyptus branches and leaves. The boy grimaced when the man's eyes glared at him in the reflection. Stupid glass…

  "What were you doing there?"

  Vincent muttered back. "I hate interrogations, Jack-bean."

  "Jake."

  "Jack-bean."

  Jake's countenance stiffened as his eyes flickered between black and dark brown. He hissed a vicious verbal assault. "You're not a kid anymore, Max! You can't do whatever you want without thinking about the consequences…damn it!" Jake wasn't looking at Vincent and the boy had closed his eyes. The voice made his nerves cringe. "I told you to stop this! To stop adding to the shit that's going around about you! You know who saw you get in that cop car, being familiar as hell and the devil…god…damn…it was that twit! Squirrel! He goes around and tells everyone this kind of…" Aggravation growled through the clenched teeth, as Jake bit down on his frustration. He cursed under his breath for a while, complaining to himself about the 'stupid little mutt' that made his life a 'living nightmare'. His twitching glower darkened and spread from his lips to contort his eyes. But it was a quiet anger and his eyes were brown. "One of these days, I'm going to get enough money to buy you a brain, First."

  Vincent moved up in his seat, seeing that the storm had passed for now. "I have a brain…and I like my brain, Jack-bean. People would pay good money to have my defective brain. I should rent it out to people, have a sign advertizing…'Be an Idiot for a Day'…" He had moved his hand before the window to visualize the sign, but it dropped back into his sweatshirt's pocket.

  Jake wasn't laughing, so Vincent was quiet. Silence was always worse than the yelling. Yelling kinda messed up the guilt you were feeling. But silence…silence only helped the feeling…sharpened the blade. It was quiet for a while, so Vincent pushed the button for the radio. Jake shut it off before the antenna could extend, but he didn't say anything. Vincent stared at the 'Airbag'.

  A serious, flat tone filled the car. "I learned that girls don't think rats are cute."

  "What?" A low voice grunted, secretly befuddled by the random nonsense.

  "Girls don't think rats are cute and they get pissy if you say they're cute like a rat."

  There was a pause. Jake was trying to reclaim his anger, but it escaped his grasp and he gave in to a sigh. "You're a complete dumbass, Max. It's pathetic."

  "At least I'm not half a dumbass…that would be worse."

  "At least you're not half a dumbass, that's for sure." The man's mouth twitched into a weak smirk, but it was forced to fade when his thoughts brought up recent events. Vincent drooped when he felt the changing atmosphere. "Just make sure you stay a complete dumbass…you messed up big time, Max. Guys are freaking….and I don't think you can weasel out off this one."

  Green eyes behind translucent lenses stared at the drizzle that peppered the surface of the pool. The shy was blotchy and grey, melting the outline of the leaves that were rustling in the trees. Leroy Rodriguez leaned against the back of the couch, standing with his arms on the furniture behind him. William was roaming about the house, perplexed as she was unable to find the missing boy. Rodriguez had checked every room, but Vincent was gone. He had disappeared while the two siblings had snuck off to check the rooms he had been in charge of cleaning. It had been awful, going through the rooms, full of negative thoughts, just to find that everywhere they looked, everything was…immaculate, perfect… They had been bitter about the boy earlier, but they had no need to be, or to come to the assumption that Vincent would do a careless job. The guy who had been so distraught when h
e thought his shoes would break their washing machine… That was a person who was aware of others, of how his laziness could cost them…or at least, it showed Vincent knew how to repay them and show appreciation... Rodriguez closed his eyes and listened for the soft patter of sprinkling rain, but he could not find the sound.

  What if Vincent had seen them inspecting his work? What if Vincent had been offended and left on his own? Was Vincent walking out in the damp and cold? Stupid…stupid! And what in God's name was he supposed to do about any of this? Go out there and hunt him down? At least he knew where the teen lived… But he should have invited Vincent to the movie… Vincent could have declined if he didn't want to go, but he should have at least offered. It would have been a good opportunity for him to make some 'good' friends. Yumie would have been a problem, but Heinkel was more patient and she wasn't as quick to judge by appearance…and she would at least listen to him if he told them Vincent was a good guy. The group he was going with was nice, overall, he liked all of them, for the most part. He should have invited Vincent… And Vincent left the clothes in the white trash bag… And he had never gotten a chance to ask Vincent if he was really giving him the bottled shark, or if his cold was gone. Vincent wasn't coughing today, so that was a good sign. …Should have given him soup to clear out the gunk that had accumulated in his chest… He should have done so many things differently, but it was too late now. Vincent was gone again.

  Richard came home. Rodriguez heard her find William. His sister's voice had a higher pitch so it was easier to hear what she said, but he had to listen carefully in order to pick up his mom's responses.

  William said the chores were all done. Mom said that was good.

  There was a pause.

  Vincent did a good job. That's good.

  Pause.

  Richard asked her what was wrong.

  William finally told her that they had inspected the rooms to see if Vincent had done an adequate job, because he had finished so quickly, and the siblings thought Vincent had found out what they were doing, and left. So Vincent had basically disappeared.

  Quiet.

  Did he take anything?

  Rodriguez opened his eyes and threw them to the side with a groan when his mother asked this question. William said she didn't know, but she didn't think so. Rodriguez pushed off the couch and made his way through the house and found the two females near the dining room. "He didn't steal anything." The blue eyes turned to him as he came to join the discussion. "He wouldn't steal from us."

  Richard watched her son's resolute expression while William moved her feet nervously, staring at them. The woman waited for Rodriguez to fidget, but he didn't as time passed. She was the first to look away. Richard was staring at the wall as she spoke. "When did he leave?"

  "We noticed he was gone…" Rodriguez looked to his sister when he realized he didn't know how much time had passed.

  "About half an hour ago, but he could have left before then. It took about ten minutes to check the rooms…" They were quiet until William mumbled. "I feel bad. I was rude at lunch…he wanted to help out more and I told him that I was fine…didn't need help…"

  I did the same thing…but I also had a reason, Mom would have gotten mad… Rodriguez looked at his feet.

  Nothing. They could do nothing about it, so they broke up and went their separate ways. The siblings would waste some time and then go to pick up Yumie and Heinkel. That much had been true. William did know the two girls and she did want to go to the movies with all the others. Richard was going through the house, checking on the work her children had done, and she entered Rodriguez's room. He was reading on his bed, sitting with a white trash bag by his feet at the end of the mattress. Green watched her stare at it.

  "Are those the clothes you want to donate?" She looked at her son. He was reading again, or at least pretending to read. He turned a page slowly.

  "I wanted to give them to Vincent."

  She watched him pretend to read. His eyes weren't moving over the pages, they were stationary. The woman frowned at what he had said. "Don't give him used clothes. If you want to get him something, buy him a new sweatshirt, or a scarf. …Something for Christmas."

  The teen's face deadened, and his eyes closed, wincing when he failed to keep his face still. "Yeah…" He heard the bag leave his bed, and his eyes cracked open to watch the woman leave with it. She turned at the stairs and descended them. Rodriguez's eyes dully rotated down towards his book. He stared at the words and read nothing for a few minutes. "…but I don't buy my other friends Christmas presents…" The mutter drifted through the room. Vincent should be a normal friend. He shouldn't be treated differently. Forget he's…how he is…and let him be normal. The 'giving your clothes to friends thing' was easier to believe than, 'I buy all my guy friends jackets for Christmas'. Maybe he'd give them an old or new video game or a hat for someone who gave him something…but not a jacket or clothes. Girls didn't even buy each other stuff like that. It would be too expensive at thirty or so bucks apiece. His Mom just didn't get it.

  Richard went through the guest room, a finger running down and parting the individual blinds. They were clean and the dark wood picked up the light nicely, as was the case with the bed frame and the armoire and the dresser. It was clean. She felt like she had stepped into a well kept inn as she stood in the room, turning slowly to view everything it contained. The woman regretted the boy's disappearance, more so when she gave her children a twenty, each, for their allowance, and saw how reluctant the receiving hands were. Twenty dollars would have been a lot of money for Vincent. It was money he needed, money he deserved for this work.

  He had done a thorough job. A better job than her own children… The boy knew how to work hard and how to take pride in what he did.

  Nothing was missing from any of the shelves. Vincent hadn't stolen anything, just as Richard had hoped.

  Thank God nothing was gone. She wouldn't have to arrest him for a petty crime, now.

  Word had slipped through the gaps in Squirrel's teeth…so they knew. Almost everyone knew Vincent was mixing with the cops. Even Jake's father had received the news. It was unacceptable. The Senior leaders were unsettled, some were furious, and the few that were in attendance just glared at the pale, red eyed boy, or stared. Jake had taken Vincent to his father's place. Four men watched the teen sit on a couch placed behind a counter that was part of the kitchen. Jake was leaning on the counter, watching Vincent on the other side as he ate a sandwich that constituted as his lunch and dinner. He had grabbed something quick for breakfast. He couldn't even remember what it was, but all he knew was that he was hungry now, so he was eating something.

  It was demanded that Vincent explain himself. He was W.C.D.'s nephew. He knew more than the other teens. He was more influential and important than the other teens. If Walter died, Jake's father or one of the other Senior leaders, would take over. But Vincent was seen as the individual that would take over when the one who inherited Walter's position died, or fell out of favor because of their age. First was as famous as his uncle, to the extent that his name and face were well-known. But he wasn't Walter. He wasn't even close to being Walter. No one could replace the Angel of Death…but maybe someone who shared his blood…could come close. If the boy had ambition, he had a hell of a start going for him.

  But he wasn't doing himself any favors right now. He was refusing to tell them anything. Jake told him to say something, but the boy refused. Nothing else could be done, so the teen was taken out into the damp night and his punishment was doled out…with some interest thrown in as well. Jake had avoided the whole ordeal and turned in early. He woke up in bed, while Vincent woke up in a parking garage. The overweight night security officer had received his pay and gave the group that took the pale teen along with them, the place for the night.

  It was the early hours, when the light of an approaching dawn casts a spell of quiet on the world and dusts it with gray. The sky held clouds while the pot-holed street contained s
mall pools of water that danced with rings when a car drove over them. The driver did not see the hooded black figure that slowly walked down the length of a sidewalk. The grass was wet and the leaves of the tree were dripping when Vincent passed them to reach the stairs that would take him to his bed. As soon as his sore and battered body curled up on his mat, he fell asleep.

  It was Christmas Eve.

  It hurt to breathe. It hurt to think. Everything was sore and dead, but more than anything, the teen was exhausted. So Vincent threw himself into the sanctuary of sleep and would have liked to remain there, but the rest of the world crashed into his fragile haven and tore him out with its ruthless fists, pounding on his door when the wind had cleared the sky of clouds for a moment to let the sun shine. Red eyes opened dully, surrounded by the pillow-like mass of his comforter that was piled on top of him. They stared at nothing as the knocks came, again and again, blinking when a voice accompanied them.

  "Vincent. Vincent, answer the door."

  Vincent had no intention of letting the boy in, so he closed his eyes and attempted to incorporate the knocks into a dream, trying to go back to sleep.

  "Open the door or else I'll have to file a missing person's report."

  The eyes remained closed. "Fine by me, fat ass. Go away."

  A stunned pause came and was knocked aside by Rodriguez's frustration. "Open the door, Vincent. Look, we're sorry about yesterday, okay? Open the door…"

  Red returned to the room when Vincent lost interest in sleeping. He sighed a breath when he spoke. "What are you sorry about, dumbass? Yesterday you were being an ass, right now you're being a dumbass. You're always an ass, Rodriguez. Accept it already and go home."

  "I wanted to apologize…"

  "Don't care about it."

  "I'm sorry we checked the rooms, Vincent. We didn't mean to…it was stupid…"

  "…What do you mean you're sorry you checked the rooms?" Rodriguez didn't say anything and Vincent sighed and turned to face the wall. "Look, I don't care right now, Rodriguez. I'm trying to sleep. I was up late last night."