by Deany Ray
How had Mother Nature mixed the genes of two such fascinating people and come up with me and Brad? Sam had been slightly interesting in high school, but that was when he’d peaked. He’d settled into normal long ago, it seemed.
Of course, I could be fascinating, if I could catch Springston’s favorite bear or if I could nail the evil dude who’d blown a guy away. I could be a hero if I helped put him away.
But there was a problem. No one could ever know about my daring acts of courage – if there was ever such a thing. I’d have to be a secret hero. To the outside world, I’d still be the same old Charlie.
I shifted in my seat. Ouch. A pain shot through my leg. The doctor said the explosion had knocked me to the ground with the kind of force that would have my every inch of my body crying out with pain for the next few days.
I eyed the cabernet with envy. Wine was out for now. It did not go well with my medication, which did not seem to be doing a whole lot to alleviate the aches.
The sound of gun shots rang out from Brad’s laptop, causing my heart to pound. I was still a little jumpy. Almost getting blown up will do that to a person.
“Got another one!” Brad yelled.
My father jumped up gleefully and stood behind my brother’s shoulder to watch the battle on the screen.
“Move your guy over to the left!” he cried. “Yellow goblin to the left!” He joined his index fingers to form a kind of gun, which he aimed at the screen.
When my father finally calmed down, he looked at me, concerned. “You okay there, baby doll?” Then he squeezed me from behind.
I usually loved to get one of my father’s famous bear hugs, but when your ribs are very tender, hugs aren’t exactly what you need. No one in my family seemed to remember that.
When I’d walked into the door that day, Brad had hugged me too, which had been kind of nice. That never happened – ever. But the change hadn’t lasted long at all. Now he was back to being Brad.
“Hey, Brad, how’s the contest going?” I asked. “For Employee of the Month? You gonna win the prize?”
He groaned. “Everybody wants it, which makes it really hard. It’s tickets to the Celtics. Who wouldn’t go for that? Plus, two hundred dollars. So, all the other guys are working all the shifts they can. And just a normal kind of day is bad enough, you know? Every single morning, I get up and go to work. How is that even fair? Every single Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday…this stuff is getting old.”
Yeah. Welcome to the real world. Where did he think our father went when he left the house each day? Sometimes seven days a week?
“We’re rooting for you,” my mom said. “Oh, I hope you get your prize!”
Sam wandered over to the game. He wanted to watch as well. “Blue goblin! To the right!” he yelled, excited.
Brad’s hands tapped hard at his computer. “I’m trying really hard.”
To be a good employee? Or to catch a goblin? I couldn’t really tell.
My mom gave me a worried look. “You go on up to bed now and have a nice long sleep. Brad and Sam will take your plate and help me with the dishes.”
“But Mom!” Brad said. “It’s Charlie’s turn to clear the table. I did the dishes last night, because Charlie wasn’t here.”
Please excuse Charlie from the dishes. She was knocked unconscious by an exploding van, I thought.
“Plus, tomorrow I have to get up early! I have to go to work,” he said. “Can’t I just rest tonight?”
My mother handed him her dirty plate.
***
I slept just like a baby. My own bed felt so good. Well, not my own bed for much longer. Soon, I’ll have another bed but I’ll have all the peace and quiet in the world.
We’d delayed the move a few days. The doctor said for all of us to rest, so we stayed in touch by text.
The next morning I grabbed my phone once I’d had my usual breakfast of coffee with a side of cookies (this time gingerbread).
ME: My body aches all over. Help!
CELESTE: So sorry, girl. Hang it there. Do I ever feel your pain. My head is killing me.
Two minutes later my phone dinged again.
MARGE: I’m feeling great. I think I’ll take a little drive, look around for Lou.
CELESTE: Hold your horses, Marge. No driving on your meds.
ME: I’ll watch out my windows. Since he likes my neighborhood.
One look at our phones would leave no doubt that we were absolutely bored. Celeste and I played a word game, at which she soundly beat me. Marge kept forwarding us photographs of kittens with the corniest ever sayings printed beneath the pictures.
In between, I tossed pickles out the window. It kind of felt like work, but I could do it lying down.
***
Three days later, Marge and Celeste came to help me pack. It was moving day at last. They got there just in time to have my father’s famous pancakes. We still felt sore, but much, much better. And I don’t think we could have lasted one more day doing nothing.
He gave them both big hugs while keeping a close eye on the stove. “Best waitresses I ever had!” He leaned his head toward me. “If you get tired of working with this one here, you’ll always have a job at Jack’s.”
“We miss you, boss,” Marge said.
My mother was bustling around the kitchen, squeezing juice and cutting fruit.
“I just love it when the house is full,” she said. “You girls are welcome anytime.” She had cancelled her morning class to give me a proper send-off.
That disappointed Marge, who’d worn some flowing purple top more suitable for dancing than for a moving day.
“I was so ready to get some exercise,” she said to my mother. “I’m so out of shape. Who’d have ever thought this job could be so physical?”
“Not me,” my father said. “I’d think you computer types would be hunched over in your chairs almost all day long.”
“I even did some warmups just before I came,” Marge said.
“You just join us anytime.” My mother handed her some juice. “You girls are always welcome.”
Marge grinned just like a child. “Oh, Yay! Thank you so, so much.”
“Come for dinner, too,” my mother said as we settled at the table. “And Charlie, please tell that nice young man to join us. Why has he never been here?”
I cut into my pancake. “Alex! No! Not him.”
My mother looked confused.
“Alex is busy. Very busy,” I tried to explain.
“You should all come to dinner,” my father said. “I’d like to meet this fellow.”
“I’ll invite Alex, Mrs. Cooper,” Marge squeaked. “He can ride with me! I’m sure he’d love to come. Charlie’s kind of shy when it comes to guys.”
I shot her a death stare.
“Lovely,” my mother said.
My brother Brad stood up from the table. “Well, I need to scram. Working man and all of that.” He sighed as if a million people were waiting for him to do life-changing kinds of tasks.
Marge and Celeste headed up with me to my room to put my stuff into boxes. I knew I was setting myself up for some teasing by letting them get up close with my stuff.
Celeste held up a faded ribbon and studied it with a frown. “Second place in a science poster contest from…” She squinted at the ribbon, whose letters had almost faded into nothing. “From 1994? You’ve held on to this awhile.”
Well, she had that right. How pathetic can you get? But it was the only time in my whole life that I’d won a prize. I explained the project to my friends. “Since I liked animals, I did a poster on the toad. And its respiratory system. I did all these detailed drawings, and made little cards with explanations of how the whole thing works.”
Marge pretended enthusiasm.
“Well, how about that?” she said. “That kind of information could come in handy at a party if you run out of things to say.”
Celeste shook her head. “Marge, you know I love you, but that’s the dumbest thi
ng I ever heard. Who wants to sip on cocktails and listen to someone telling them about the gross stuff that goes on inside of frogs?”
They also made fun of my collection of Disney movies, which I still liked to put on the old VCR, mainly for the songs.
While we folded clothes and wrapped up my few breakables, we talked about our quest to find the missing bear.
With the star attraction still missing at the Springston Zoo, rumors had begun to swirl. Lou was sick, some people whispered, or the zoo had sold the panda due to mounting debts. And, of course, my mother’s students absolutely swore that the panda had escaped and was loose on local streets. They’ve seen him for themselves!
No way, other people said. Those exercisers were just old folks. Their eyes, and their memories too, weren’t what they used to be. Then management had issued several statements to assure the public that everything was fine.
Celeste’s ex had filled her in on all the conversations going on behind the scenes. Some officials were in favor of announcing that the bear had, in fact, disappeared. Surely someone somewhere would spot the missing panda if the whole town was keeping watch.
Others said to keep it quiet for just a little longer. What if people panicked? Lou, or perhaps, a bystander, could end up getting hurt.
“The police have stepped up their forces to find the bear themselves,” Celeste told us in a big huff. “Animal Control is working overtime. Like they don’t think that we can find him.”
And, well, to be honest, I wasn’t sure we could.
Marge’s eyes grew wide. “Let’s show them what we’re made of! Let’s go and find that bear!”
“We absolutely will.” Celeste closed the lid on one last box. “But first, let’s get Charlie moved.”
Although I didn’t have a lot to take, we needed both my car and Marge’s to get all of my belongings to my new apartment. So much of my stuff was bulky, like the old guitar I still thought I might one day learn to play.
My parents stood beside the driveway as we prepared to leave. I wished they wouldn’t turn this into a big-deal thing. I was a ten minutes’ drive away.
My dad gave me a hug. “We’re so proud of you, my smart girl. Don’t be a stranger, now.”
My mom squeezed me like she didn’t want to let go of my shoulders. Ouch. I was still sore. When she pulled away, there was a wetness in her eyes. Mother, what the heck?
And here’s the funny thing: I was feeling strange myself. Somehow, I didn’t want to do it, to drive down the gravel drive, away from my beaming parents. It felt like something big was coming to an end. Why would that even be? I’d lived out on my own before.
I turned away and pretended to adjust some boxes in the backseat so they couldn’t see the tears.
This was it. It was beginning. Adulthood, here I come. For the first time in my life, I had a real career. Kind of. I was doing something on my own. And this step into the grownup world was starting none too soon. The little crinkles beneath my eyes would start to show up at any moment, along with all the other signs of disappearing youth. There’s no way that was fair: getting old-age wrinkles when you still hadn’t figured out how to be a real adult.
Celeste leaned into my window as I cranked up the car.
“Drive slow,” she said. “And keep an eye out for that bear.”
Yes! I would do just that. And be glad for the distraction.
My mother wiped away her tears. “Oh, I’d steer clear of that red bear. He has some…disgusting habits.”
And then we were off.
As we pulled into the apartment complex, I studied my new home. Not the swankiest of digs, but the grounds were neat with flowering bushes sprinkled here and there. Each unit had a tiny porch for watching birds and sunsets, if you felt like dodging arrows.
The manager handed me the keys, and we carried my things up to the second floor where I unlocked the door. We were greeted by an armchair and matching loveseat in a dark green fabric, along with the welcome smell of heavy-duty cleaning products. The maids must have done their job. The kitchen held a little table and two metal chairs.
Marge hurried in to look. “Oh, this is so exciting, hon! I think the place is darling.”
I looked around. “I think the place will do.”
“I’ll help you decorate,” Marge said. “I love to decorate.”
It didn’t take very long to put all my things in place.
“Oh! There’s one last thing.” Celeste looked at Marge and grinned. Then from behind her back she pulled out a candle. “Just a little something from your business partners to make it seem like home.” It was a candle that smelled like sugar cookies. “It seemed more like a Charlie gift than a baking pan.”
Marge reached into her bag and pulled out a container that I recognized as coming from my mother’s kitchen. “Surprise! Your mother sent you these. She said for me to pull them out once you got settled in.” She reached back into her purse and the cookies kept on coming. There was a second batch. “One batch for us to eat right now to celebrate your brand-new place. And one to save for later in your brand-new kitchen cabinets. Your mother said that when you came home from a real long day, you needed to have cookies.”
I wiped my eyes. Good grief. What was it with the tears?
I gave both my friends a hug. “I say we dig in now.”
As we munched on peanut butter-chocolate swirls, we gazed out the back window.
“Oh, look. Here come the archers.” Celeste rolled her eyes. “Better move back from the window. Wouldn’t the hospital be surprised to see us back again?”
“Time to get back on the case,” Marge said. “I say we go to lunch, talk a little business. Who wants to go to Jack’s?”
“Are you craving a cheeseburger?” Celeste asked. “Or dreaming of a fry cook?”
Marge dissolved into a fit of giggles. Since there was nothing funny about the burgers, I guessed romance was on her mind.
***
She spotted him right away when we walked into the diner. Then she blushed and giggled her way through our business meeting.
“We don’t have much that adds up.” Celeste took a first sip of her milkshake. “We have a guy who lost his little finger…”
“And didn’t even see a doctor, which I find absolutely strange.” I twirled my fork in my spaghetti.
“That must mean he’s up to something serious.” Celeste thought about it. “He was more scared of getting caught than of getting an infection.”
“And you’d think he’d want a doctor to give him something for the pain,” I said. “You know that had to hurt.”
Celeste thought some more. “He could have gone to a private doctor. But surely they would have sent him on to a hospital. With an injury like that.”
“And how did he lose his finger?” I asked. “And what exactly is the deal with the ten million boxes?”
“So many questions,” Celeste said. She picked up her burger. “Hey, Marge, are you writing all this down?”
Marge had unofficially become the investigative secretary, always scribbling something down in the little notebook she took everywhere.
“Writing…what? What did you say?” She was staring at the corner where the kitchen window was, tossing her hair and smiling. I still wasn’t used to this new side of Marge.
Celeste pointed at her. “Get out your notebook, Juliet. Romeo has things he needs to fry up for all these hungry people.”
Marge blushed. “Is he not the most adorable thing that you’ve ever seen?”
“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Celeste said, “but if you two became an item, I’d give my approval.”
Marge brushed at her blue top. “I would have dressed more if I had only known that we’d be dining out.”
Celeste picked up a fry. “Nobody dresses up to go out to a diner. No matter what they might have going on with the fry cook in the back.”
Marge took out her notebook. She was giggling again. “What were we discussing?”
I twirled more spaghetti. “We were saying we have no idea what was going on with this crazy case. All of it is a mystery: this Baxter dude, the boxes, and the missing finger. We need to have a plan. Where should we look next?”
Marge stared down at her notebook, then scribbled for a while. “We have lots of clues. But they don’t add up to anything; they don’t make any sense. There’s the rental unit where they keep more boxes. And there’s the guy who…” She paused and held her hand over her heart. She leaned forward and whispered to us. “The guy who got blown away.”
“And who exactly was he? That’s another mystery.” I stole a fry off Celeste’s plate.
“And who wanted him dead? And why?” Celeste batted my hand away. “This is your daddy’s place. He’ll bring you fries for free. No reason to eat mine.”
“The police!” Marge squeaked. “I’ll bet they know. Right from the beginning, Alex seemed to know that something big was up.”
“You’re right,” I said. “That night we found the finger, he told us to stay away. Even then, he said that things might get really scary.”
“Your boyfriend wasn’t lying.” Marge took a sip of tea.
“He’s not…oh, never mind,” I said. “But he knew that this was big. And I’ll bet the cops already know some things about the guy who died.”
All eyes turned to Celeste. Because, as with almost any question, Celeste knew a guy. In this case, it was, of course, the chief.
She grabbed her cell, and when there was no answer from the ex, a string of colorful words came flying from her mouth. Hmm. Some of those were words that I’d never heard before.
“Shhh!” Marge put a hand on Celeste’s arm.
“He knows it’s me. And that’s the very reason why he won’t pick up. He knows exactly what I’ll ask.”
“Leave a message for him, hon,” Marge said. “Tell him we need information. We need information now. And if not, you’ll spill.”
