Chapter #42The Boss Man Speaks by: Seuzz   "Who are you?" Karter demands. "Which one are you? I know there's a couple of possibilities."
Monique Travers is a small and weak fourteen-year-old girl; and though Adam Karter isn't a bulked-up jock, he's strong and wiry and a head taller than you. But at least he can't see your real face. "Joe Durras," you say, since he's the one you spent the afternoon with. "Like my new look?"
"The dumber of the Dumbasses? Huh. Except you're not that dumb, Dumbass. I know that, even if Karter doesn't, because I've been in your head. But are you Dumbass, or are you so dumb you'll pretend to be Dumbass? Prove you're him." His chin tilts dangerously.
"Accept it," you reply as steadily as you can, "or I'll prove it on your ass."
His breath hisses. "Not good enough. But I won't press the point. I'm here to talk, not prove anything."
"Do you think I want to negotiate?" Your heart pounds.
"No. But I spent a lot of time inside your head. I remember most of it because I took notes. It was extremely interesting."
"That sounds like a threat."
"It isn't, because like I said, I've been in your head, and I learned enough not to make threats, not to you." His voice softens. "When I said it was 'interesting', I meant just that. It really is interesting. Amazing, even."
"Did you come here to tell me nice things about my life?"
"I came here because—" He pauses, and looks over his shoulder as another shadow looms. It's Tina Branson, looking very frightened.
Karter turns back to you. "It was a mistake," he says, "bringing in the others. Brandt and Diane and Becky. It should have just been me and—" His voice cracks, and he puts his arm in Tina's. "Me and mother. Or maybe just her. I shouldn't have been greedy."
"Charles," says Tina, and begins to softly weep.
"What did you want?" you ask, playing for time as your head spins.
"Isn't it obvious? You got the masks off the others, so you saw. I wanted a few more years for her. Of health. Youth, if that could be a bonus. Even when the others got involved, I tried limiting it. They could be kids again, sure, but only for a year, only until they graduated. Then— Well— I don't know." A tremble passes across his shoulders. "To be honest, we'd probably have just moved everyone down, into the junior class as it moved up to the senior level. Kept on that way until age finally caught up under the masks. But for a little while, at least, they'd—and we'd—have something we hadn't had in a very long time."
A silence falls. "But you couldn't stop there?" you ask.
"No, and God damn it that we couldn't. We shoulda been stingy, those of us at the start, but instead we had to share it. All of us did, with someone. I had to share it with my mother, and by that time I'd shared it with Brandt and the others. Then they had theirs that they wanted to share it with, and then those others had theirs. When you have something good, you want to share it with the ones you love. If you're not a jackass.
"But to get back to my point, I guess I'll say I'm glad you came in and stopped it, before some of those other fellows out there got wind of what was going on. We'd made some bad pickups on our end. Ramos's kid brother, for instance, someone like him was bound to say something to the wrong person, and then we'd all get caught up in something bad. I gather you're just turning people loose, letting them catch up as best they can, readjust. They're all royally pissed off, Diane and the rest of them, but there's nothing they can do about it, but go back to normal. Some of the fellows you know about wouldn't've been so kind to us. So I'll thank you that far, since I can't thank you any farther, not sincerely."
"Are you offering to surrender?"
"No." He draws a deep breath. "No, I'm asking for a last show of mercy. You know where to find Karter and Tina Branson. I've done nothing to queer you there. You can let 'em loose, though I suspect Karter would have been happier where he was. He's only really happy when he's asleep. But just let me and mother go off like this. We'll go to another city, the other side of the country, lose ourselves, make a new life, under these faces, if you'll let us. Well, my mother will live under that one. Me, I don't need this one, unless it makes it easier to work certain kinds of jobs. Maybe that's what we should have done in the first place. But now I'm willing to settle for it, for anonymity, not for the life of someone else.
"So what do you say?" he asks.
You're glad the choice isn't up to you, and truthfully you can tell him: "I have to talk to someone first."
"That Dad of yours, you mean?" Karter says. "That's fair."
"And unnecessary," a rough voice says behind you. You wheel. Rick Bredon has crept up behind, silent as a cat.
You jump back as he strides past. Karter throws himself in front of Tina, protecting her. But Bredon easily tosses him away and seizes Tina by the elbow. She shrieks, but only briefly, before Bredon's hand covers her face. He pulls it away, and she slumps to the ground. All you can see of her is a tangle of white hair as she rolls into a ball. Bredon drops a mask to the ground.
With a snarl Karter leaps at her assailant, but Bredon easily knocks him to the side, then kicks him a way that leaves him crumpled and choking on the grass. He seizes Karter by the hair and puts a hand to his face. It's there only a moment, and then Bredon pushes him back. He hands the mask to you.
You take it numbly. You have the feeling that you ought to be terrified of Bredon, that you ought to run away. But the air turns very thick, and you feel buffeted as though by waves, as though you are floating in deep water. Your feet move under you, and you stumble forward, around Bredon, with eyes straining toward the figure lying on the ground. You draw up close until you can make out the features. The first you notice is the big, white moustache.
It's Mr. Walberg.
A hand grips your shoulder and pulls you back. "Come on, Prescott," says Bredon. "No one wants you puking your guts all over him, least of all him."
"It's my social studies teacher," you say quietly. "I gave him the book to put in our class time capsule."
"When you get to the end of these things, you usually find it's the mostly likely suspect behind it all," Bredon says dryly.
Bright headlamps swing into view, and with a gentle purr, Jonathan Straussler's Porsche sweeps up. Your gut drops as Jonathan himself leaps out. Now you do want to run and hide.
But Jonathan ignores you and Bredon—and Bredon only watches—as he runs over to stare down at Walberg with his hands on his hips. Then he swings around and leaps into Bredon's face. "This close, Rick," he yells, and pinches a thumb and forefinger at Bredon's nose. "Me and Frank were this close to wrapping it up without you!"
"Nice face, kid," Bredon replies. "Where'd you get it?"
"Oh, he's just some rich fuck at the high school," Jonathan shrugs. "Eh, he does in a pinch."
"Were you and the cadet even looking in the right high school?"
"What? Well, we got off on the wrong foot, but—"
"But someone put you right. And what happened when you went looking in the right high school?"
"Okay, we had a setback—"
"And who pulled you out of that setback?"
Jonathan's lips disappear. "Local help," he says, not looking at you. "The underground."
"And how did the underground even find you?"
"Look, we were too busy trying to get it all fixed to rake over who did what to help whom!"
"Face it, kid, you flunked this one as hard as you could."
Even in the dark you can see the red rush into Jonathan's face. "You can't flunk us, Rick! This wasn't a test! We graduated already and this was our first— And I'll tell Dad if you—!"
"Are you guys friends?" you gasp.
"No, I just taught 'em everything they know," Bredon says. "And a lot more that they blissfully forgot." He raises a finger before Jonathan can explode, and turns to you. "Get your stuff out of his car and put it in mine. It's around the corner yonder. Get changed and I'll take you home. You've had a busy day, Prescott."
* * * * *
Bredon is gruff and uncommunicative on the drive back after you've changed, and only reiterates that he belongs to the same company as Joe and Frank, and that he was their teacher and mentor for several years. "Tell you tomorrow" is his only answer to the rest of your questions. "If we see you. Which we probably won't."
He makes a phone call, and a confused looking Will Prescott is waiting out front when you arrive. "Just go inside," Bredon tells you, and you pass the fake you as it gets in the car with him. Your dad is watching TV in the living room, and does a double-take as you pass him, for you're wearing different clothes. But he says nothing. Upstairs you sit and stare at a blank wall, from the other side of which comes the sound of your little brother grunting and moaning while listening to some kind of thrash metal on his ear buds.
You stare at the wall and stare at the wall, and try to get used to being home, and to the idea that everything is normal again.  | Members who added to this interactive
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