Quid Pro Quo Page 10

  The good thing was Atula made those cabdrivers look like jerks. The bad thing was we were going to spend forty-five minutes in a car with her. She was bound to figure out we were up to something. I made up some story about us going hiking out there, and I knew right away she was suspicious. (You can always tell by the eyebrows.)

  When I introduced Kendall, she was even more suspicious (she had both the eyebrows and lips both going). She’d obviously heard Andy talk about him, and I admit the bashed-up face and bloody T-shirt weren’t showing him at his best. But Atula managed to smile anyway and keep up a pretty steady stream of conversation all the way out to St. Margaret’s Bay.

  She asked a lot of questions about Andy, and I tried to be as vague as I could. “Gee, I haven’t seen much of her the last little while.” “Oh, you know Andy, always up to no good, ha ha!” and of course the old “She’s been tied up a lot lately.” I almost laughed. I like sick puns and that was about as sick as they get. I mean, how else could Bob hang onto a wolverine like Andy for four days if she wasn’t tied up?

  Or worse. (Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.)

  I guess Atula thought I was uncomfortable talking about Andy (I mean, Atula did just fire her) because she eventually changed the subject. She told me all about her clients. At another time I would have been really interested in hearing what everybody was up to. Right then, though, my mind was on other stuff. I just went, “un-huh … un-huh” and “oh, yeah?” until I saw a road sign that said “Birchy Head Yacht Club.” I went, “Stop here,” a little more suddenly than I should have, I guess, because Atula slammed on the brakes, and we fishtailed around the road for a while.

  Atula said, “What?! What?! You want to get out here?!? … In the middle of nowhere?!” I finally managed to convince her that the hiking trail started just on the other side of the yacht club and—I thought I was really brilliant when I came up with this— that Kendall’s father was meeting us there. In fact, I said he was going to drive us home, so everything was going to be absolutely A-OK, and she could get back to her shopping, ha ha!

  Atula did this duck thing with her lips, and I knew she wasn’t very happy about leaving us out there, but I gave her a kiss and thanked her and bolted out of the car before she could do anything about it. She “but…but…butted” for a while, then finally just gave up and left. Kendall and I stood on the side of the road, waving at her like two little old grannies until she disappeared around the bend.

  Kendall looked at me and said, “Now what?”

  Good question.

  chapter

  thirty-six

  Trespass II

  W e ducked past a “No Trespassing” sign and started to sneak down this winding dirt road to the yacht club. We were in the middle of what looked like a major forest, at least to me, though that’s not saying much. I’m an underprivileged city kid. The most trees I’d ever seen in one place were at the YMCA’s Christmas tree lot.

  It was so quiet, you wouldn’t believe it — just this crunching sound from us walking on the leaves. I’ve heard that’s what people like about being out in the country: the peace and tranquility (and of course being able to savor a delicious cup of Homestyle instant cappucino). But to tell you the truth, all that nature was creeping me out. I was starting to feel doomed. If Bob Chisling didn’t get us, I figured the bears would. And from the look of this place, it would be years before anyone would come by and find the leftovers.

  What a way to go.

  The only thing that made me feel better was the thought of Mary MacIsaac crying when she heard I’d disappeared. Then I realized that she’d probably be crying harder for Kendall, and I started feeling even worse than I did before.

  We went around a bend in the road and suddenly the yacht club was right there. You’d swear it actually jumped out at us from the way we both dove into the woods. Some spies, eh? But that was okay. It was good for a laugh, especially when I horked out the big hunk of moss I inhaled when I face-planted.

  Kendall had to stop the bleeding from his mouth again, so I started looking around.

  I pushed some branches aside and scanned the property. The yacht club was this big old white building with green trim and a wooden verandah that went all the way around the outside. There was also a boathouse right on the water, a boarded-up canteen and a couple of garages at the back of the gravel parking lot. Andy could have been in any one of those buildings. In fact, I half wondered if this wasn’t Bob Chisling’s Own Private Prison Camp, jam-packed full of people who caught him doing something he shouldn’t.

  I’d find out soon enough.

  The plan was that I’d scout out the property, and Kendall would stay put and stand guard. It was a pretty good place for a lookout: he was hidden, but he could still see just about everything except the waterside of the buildings.

  If he heard someone coming down the driveway, he was supposed to warn me on his walkie-talkie. If I found something, I was supposed to call him on mine. He’d either run back to the gas station we passed along the way and call for help, or, in the case of a bear attack, try to lure Winnie the (killer) Pooh away with the Oreo cookies.

  I got out my walkie-talkie and turned it on. I reached in my other pocket for Kendall’s walkie-talkie, and I could not believe it.

  It wasn’t there.

  It wasn’t in my other pockets.

  It wasn’t in the woods or on the road. I felt like screaming, though under the circumstances I realized that would be a pretty dumb thing to do. Instead, I quietly slammed my head against a tree a couple of times.

  Kendall got me by the shoulders and said, hey, it wasn’t that big a deal. He could still stand guard. If he saw someone coming, he’d just pretend he was lost in the woods and ask them to take him back to the gas station. That would give me a chance to get out of there before they showed up again.

  Fine. Good enough.

  I waited for a while, and I guess Kendall thought I was scared (Gee, where would he get that impression?), because he said that he’d go instead if I liked. I said no, that I wanted to do it. Andy was my mother, after all, and I’d rather take my chances with Bob at the yacht club than the bears in the woods (I kept that last part to myself).

  I snuck out from behind the trees, bolted over to the side of the canteen and pinned my back against the wall. I was shaking and gasping and worried I was going to wet my pants, but I knew Kendall was watching me so I had to keep going. I crept out and began to look around the canteen. I couldn’t see in the windows— they were all boarded up—so I knocked on the door and whispered, “Andy! Andy! Are you there?”

  She wasn’t, or, at least, she was in no condition to answer.

  I did this ridiculous high-speed tiptoe thing over to the main building. I was trying not to make the gravel crunch, but it didn’t work. I did, however, manage to do a reasonably accurate impression of a fairy princess. (I don’t know how Kendall kept from cracking up.)

  I could see into what must have been the kitchen, but the other windows on the main building were boarded up. The back door was padlocked, but I gave it a rattle anyway. It wasn’t going anywhere. I shuffled along the verandah with my back to the wall, just like they do in movies, and edged along to the left side of the building.

  I turned and looked back at Kendall. I motioned that I was going to check around the front side of the building. He gave me a thumbs-up. I nodded and disappeared around the corner.

  I didn’t even have time to scream.

  chapter

  thirty-seven

  Kidnapping

  The unlawful act of capturing

  and holding a person against his or her will

  One hand got me from behind and covered my mouth.

  The other hand had me by the back of my pants and was lifting me off the ground. That’s when I realized what an idiot I was for not bringing some protection. Anything.

  A baseball bat.

  A laser gun.

  A really
bad case of armpit fungus.

  Even a jock strap would have helped right then. Believe me. The guy was giving me the ultimate power wedgie.

  I couldn’t get any sound out, but I was kicking and swinging my arms as hard as I could. Lot of good it did me.

  Underneath those fancy suits of his, Bob Chisling was still just a big beefy bartender. I guess he was used to throwing two-hundred-pound drunks out onto the street. A ninety-pound kid must have been like a minor rodent problem to him.

  He didn’t say anything until he’d dragged me inside the yacht club.

  “Listen, Bud, I told you once before: Construction sites are dangerous.”

  I took both my hands and got his index finger bent down enough to say, “What did you do with my mother?”

  “Your mother?!?” He was obviously surprised for a second. Then he squinted at me like he’d just figured something out. It must have been the reddish hair and freckles. He started dragging me again.

  We got to the men’s washroom and he put me in a headlock while he rooted in his pockets for the key. I don’t know exactly what I was thinking right then, but I can tell you it wasn’t good.

  He opened the door and threw me in.

  I was so worried about slamming headfirst into the urinal that I didn’t notice who was there.

  Then Andy went, “Listen, you beeping beep, when are you going to grow up and …” She stopped when she realized it was me sliding across the floor and started screaming and kissing me and crying.

  I didn’t hear the door lock again, but it must have. Byron was helping us both up, and Consuela was trying to give Andy some toilet paper to wipe her face, but she kept pushing them both away. Normally, I would have pushed her away too. I’m a little old for public displays of affection. But right then I didn’t care. I was just so glad to see Andy alive and still swearing at people.

  We were both trying to get the blubbering under control when the door opened again, and Kendall bounced off a stall and hit the floor. Chisling was in the doorway, pointing a gun at us with one hand and wiping hostage dust off his pants with the other.

  “All right!” he said in this kind of crazy man growl. “What do you want for lunch?”

  Gee … lunch! That was a nice surprise.

  Andy got up off the floor, and I could tell right away she wasn’t going to offer to help with the sandwiches.

  “Better order the Party Pack,” she said. “We’ve got quite a crowd here.” She smiled at me and said in her sweetest voice, “Wasn’t the big beeping beep-beep nice to organize this little family reunion for us?”

  I went “Andy …” but there was no way she’d stop. She was like a Doberman in attack mode, and none of us was brave enough to try strapping a muzzle on her. She turned on Chisling again.

  “Oh, you’re a regular beeping he-man, aren’t you? Not only did you manage to overpower a runty undernourished cleaning lady, a two-pack-a-day smoker and a one-armed beanpole—you also managed to bag two infants! Wow! Really impressive! I mean, look at this fine specimen you dragged in!”

  I couldn’t believe it. My own mother was publicly mocking my physique. She yanked up my T-shirt and ran her fingers up and down my ribs like she was playing some primitive bony instrument. She put on this phony Southern accent and went, “Oh, you big strong man, you! How’d you evah rassle this ferocious beast to the ground? I git shivers just a-thinkin’ ’bout it!”

  Chisling’s left eyelid twitched, and I could tell he was getting agitated. I pulled my T-shirt down and whispered, “Quit it, Andy!”

  Andy glared at me as if I was on Chisling’s side. I should have known better. Like she was going to listen to reason? This was just the excuse she needed to take off on a major rant.

  “No, don’t you tell me to quit it! I mean it! I’m tired of this guy lording it over us. We’re all pretending he’s some big beeping deal just because he’s got a gun. Well, beep that. He’s a wuss. He’s pathetic, trying to bribe us with burgers! To get us to pretend that none of this happened! Oh, yeah, Bob, just a few more days together, and I’m sure we’ll come up with a set of facts that we can all agree on. Ha beeping ha!”

  She was practically nose to nose with Chisling by now, and I could tell he wasn’t keen on her breath. “Well, I’d love to be able to say that we all just decided to take a week long holiday in the charming men’s room of the Birchy Head Yacht Club—but that’s not what happened, now is it, Mis-ter Chis-ling? You killed a man for a parking space. You beeping bullied Consuela into burning down that building for you. Then, when you found out we knew what you were up to, you … “A) tricked me into coming here, “B) kidnapped Consuela and “C) practically bashed the beeping brains out of Byron, threw him in the trunk of your car and dumped him out here too. That’s our ‘mutually agreed-upon set of facts’, and a thousand Big beeping Macs aren’t going to change a word of it, right, guys?”

  Everyone nodded.

  “And if you don’t like it, you may as well just blow our brains out right now! C’mon, Bob. Be a man! You got a gun. Use it!”

  Everyone stopped nodding and started going “Andy! AN-DY43” Was she nuts? Suddenly we were all in this complete panic. If I’d had a sock handy, I would have stuffed it in that big mouth of hers.

  She was screaming; Byron was trying to grab her; Consuela was going, “Please? Please?” because she didn’t know what was happening; and Chisling was waving the gun at us. The cubicle walls were rattling and the sounds were bouncing off the ceiling, and I knew it wouldn’t be long before something terrible happened.

  I was right.

  Chisling grabbed me by the neck and held the gun to my head.

  That did it.

  That shut everybody up. (Kendall kept his hand over Andy’s mouth, just to be on the safe side. Or maybe just to keep her upright. She’d gone pretty pale all of a sudden.)

  Chisling said, “Okay. I said, what … do you want … for lunch? Consuela? Que quieres para el almuerzo?”

  “Taco Bell, por favor, Señor.”

  “Está bien. Byron?”

  “Large Greek salad, extra olives and a green tea.”

  “Andy?”

  Kendall turned his hand down just enough for her to answer.

  “A large bacon cheeseburger and fries.”

  “Kid with the bloody face?”

  “Ah, same as her, I guess.”

  “You?”

  Having a gun to my head kind of killed my appetite.

  “Nothing.”

  Andy pried off Kendall’s hand and went, “You’re eating something.”I went, “I’m not hungry.”

  She went, “You’re eating something. Look how skinny you are.”

  I said, “Would you leave me alone! I’m not hungry.”

  Then Chisling got into it. “Do as your mother says. You’re having something to eat.”

  This was nuts. One of them’s got a gun to my head, the other one’s saying “C’mon, blow our brains out!” but they’re both concerned about me meeting my daily nutritional requirements. Like that makes sense. Adults. At what point in the aging process, exactly, is it that the brain turns to mush?

  “Okay. Okay,” I said. “I’ll have a cheeseburger too.”

  That seemed to make him happy. He threw me to the ground and left.

  Andy screamed out after him, “And get me a super-size Coke too, you beeping beep beep.” She started banging on the door. “Did you hear me? Did you hear me, YOU BEEPING WUSS? I WANT A COKE44”

  I heard Chisling make this grunting sound, and then these big crashing footsteps started coming toward us, and I thought, Oh, no. That’s it. Andy has finally done it. He’s going to kill us all.

  Two seconds later, the door to the washroom flew open again, and Atula fell in.

  chapter

  thirty-eight

  False imprisonment

  The confinement of a person without just cause

  Atula ordered a chicken sub (extra mayo, tomatoes, hot peppers), and Chisling left again.
After the introduc-tions and the kisses and hugs and apologies, we all started trying to figure out how everyone ended up in the men’s room of a boarded-up yacht club.

  We had quite a bit of time to put the pieces together. Andy said it always took Chisling at least an hour and a half to pick up the food. He didn’t want anyone getting suspicious, so he’d drive right back into town and pick up everybody’s meal at a different place. The guy had everything worked out, except what he was going to do with us.

  Anyway, back to how we all got there.

  You know about Kendall and me, so I’m not going to go into that again. It was a little more complicated for everybody else.

  chapter

  thirty-nine

  Confession

  An admission of guilt

  Atula

  I blame myself. I am entirely to blame. I am very ashamed to admit it, but it’s true. When Mr. Chisling called that day and said you had not shown up for his meeting, I accepted it as another example of your increasingly irresponsible behavior, Andy. I did not even consider the possibility that something might have happened to you. I was so angry I did not even bother to telephone and ask you for an explanation. I only thought of how your missing an appointment with “our friend” would negatively impact on the social standing of my law firm. Had I had the least bit of faith in you, I would have tried to reach you, I would have realized you were gone, I would have called the police—and Mr. Chisling would in all likelihood be behind bars today!…

  “No, no, Andy. Don’t be so quick to forgive me. My behavior was even worse than that. I fired you without even the decency to tell you myself, and then … and then this thing with the boys … They wouldn’t be here if it were not for my ridiculous ego.

  “I am sorry, but you are wrong, Cyril. I did not drive you here as a favor. I drove you here—again my apologies, Andy—because I no longer trusted your mother. I did not consider her lifelong devotion to you. I thought only of her few short weeks of erratic work habits and concluded that she was an inadequate parent. I took great pleasure, I assure you, in offering to solve your problem with the taxi drivers and take you myself. I thought, ‘What a marvelous person I am compared to that wretched Andy, who is no doubt sitting in front of the television set, smoking cigarettes all day, instead of looking after her only child.’