The Butterfly Conspiracy (17 page)

An hour later, Paulie’s feet were killing him and his legs were cramping up.
 
He was freezing.
 
He slapped his arms together to circulate some blood.
 
How could it be so damn cold when it was supposed to be the middle of summer?
 

Behind him, he heard another car approaching.
 
He turned around to face the car, stepped out into the road and stuck out his thumb. The car was traveling slow.
 
As it approached, he could see an old man hunched behind the wheel. The car drove past him.
 

“Shit!” Paulie ran a few steps and hollered, “Hey, I need a ride here.”
 

There was a red glow of break lights as the car slowed down and stopped.
 
Paulie ran up to the window. An old man peered out, his face covered with grey whiskers.
 

“Need a lift, Mister?”

    
Paulie climbed into the car.

“Where you headed?” The man asked.

    
“I’m trying to get to Grand View.”

    
“Good, that’s where I’m headed.”
 
They drove a short way in silence.
 
The old man turned to Paulie, “What’s that smell?” Paulie glanced down at his pants, ignoring him.

It took about twenty minutes to reach the outskirts of town.
 
As they drove down
Lake Avenue
, Paulie asked to get out just past the Freighter View Tavern, where his car was parked.
 

The old man slowed down as he approached the bar.
 
As they passed the big front windows, Paulie looked in and saw Scott, Joe and that punk kid he was supposed to be following.
 
They were all huddled together talking and laughing.
 
There stood Joe, fine as he could be, and Scott too!

At first, Paulie was puzzled.
 
How could this be? There they were, all laughing together.
 
Slowly he felt his anger building.
 
I bet those assholes are all laughing about me, he thought.
 
The anger exploded in him just like that black bear out in the woods.
 

“Those bastards!” Paulie screamed.

The old man hit the breaks.

 
“Stop the car, Grandpa.
 
Stop this damn car!”

 
“Take it easy, Mr., what’s the problem?”

The car lurched to a halt in the middle of Lake Street.
 
Paulie jumped out and slammed the door.
 
The old man pushed down on the accelerator pedal.
 
The car jumped forward, fishtailing down the block, tires squealing.

All conversation came to a stop inside the bar.
 

“What was that?” Scott said.
 
They all turned to the window.
 
Paulie jumped back into the shadows.
  
  

Just up the street, Moon was peddling a girl’s bicycle down
Lake Street
towards the Freighter.
 
He heard tires squealing and looked up to see old man Johnson’s car heading straight at him.
 

Moon pushed down hard on the pedals to get some speed, but it was no use.
 
He leaned the bike over on its side and felt the car sail by, missing him by inches.
 
Moon tumbled from the bike and rolled into a gutter across the street.
 
 
 

Paulie headed down the block back towards his car,
  
his mind racing.

“Them no good dirty bastards,” he raged.
 
“They tricked me into going to the woods.
 
There was no bear.”
 
He yanked open the car door.
 

“Now they’re all getting a good laugh out of this.”
 
He pounded on the steering wheel.
 

“Bastards!” he screamed. Paulie took a deep breath. He clenched his teeth and muttered, “These hicks don’t know who they’re dealing with.
 
No problem, you assholes, it’s my turn now”.

Moon slowly sat up.
 
He stretched his legs.
 
They seemed to be working.
 
He flexed his arms.
 
His shoulder was scrapped and bleeding but nothing seemed to be broken.
 
He climbed to his feet and picked up the bicycle for support.
 
The handle bars were cocked at a weird angle and the chain was off the sprocket.
 
He pushed the mangled bike over to the Freighter View, leaned it against the building and limped in.
   

 
 
He walked past Scott, Joe and Stephen.
 
Scott took one look at him and asked, “What the hell happened to you?”
 

“I just got run over by old man Johnson.”

“You must be loaded,” Joe replied.
 
“Old man Johnson’s never driven over thirty miles an hour in his life.”

“Well, he did tonight and the old fool almost killed me.
 
Look at me.”
 
Moon thrust out his elbow.

His shirt was ripped away and his elbow was scrapped and bleeding.
 

“You should see the bike.
 
He’s gonna pay for a new one, that’s for sure!” Moon declared.
 

Stephen walked over.
 
“Are you okay?”
 

“I think so.
 
How about getting me a beer?” Moon smiled and rubbed his shoulder.
 
Stephen saw three dead leaves stuck in his hair.
 

“I knew this sob story had a purpose.” Scott said.

“I’ll get you a beer,” Stephen replied.
 

Joe looked over the bar.
 
“Hey, Scottie…see that blonde sitting over there?”

“Yeah.”

“She’s been staring at me since we walked in here.”

“Right, Joe.
 
Like they all do.”

“No, I mean it.
 
I’m going to walk over there and get her a beer.”

“Geeze, Joe.
 
You’re obsessed!”

“Good luck.” Stephen said. He turned to Scott, “I better be getting back.
 
I don’t think my uncle was too pleased to see me go, so I don’t want to stay out too late.
 
But, thanks for the great story.
 
Let’s hope our big friend has had enough of the
Upper
Peninsula and heads back home.”
 

Moon grabbed the beer, walked over to a group of people he recognized and started telling them about his near death bicycle experience.
 

“Come here.
 
Let me show you what’s left of my bike,” Moon said as he grabbed a disinterested onlooker.
 
They followed Stephen out the door.

Stephen backed the MG out of the angled parking space and headed south on
Lake Street
.
 

Paulie watched as Stephen left the bar and got into the car.
 
He started the rental car and pulled out.
 
Paulie began following close behind the MG.
 
He wasn’t about to let this kid disappear again.
 

Moon picked up the mangled bike and was pointing out the damage when he stopped talking mid-sentence.
 
He watched as Stephen drove by in a red MG, with Paulie following close behind.
 
 

Stephen noticed bright lights bearing down on him as soon as he pulled out of town.
 
Thinking it could be some drunk behind him, Stephen pressed on the accelerator.
 
The car behind him inched even closer.
 
Stephen punched the accelerator and the MG sped ahead.
 

The car behind him sped up and then pulled out to pass.
 
Stephen let off the gas to let the maniac driver get by.
 
Instead of passing, the car started moving over towards him. Stephen jerked the wheel hard to the right and headed towards the shoulder.
 
Paulie kept moving the car over and watched as the MG veered off the road into the ditch.
 

 
Stephen battled to control the car, but the MG careened down a steep incline and continued moving halfway up an embankment on the other side.
 
The MG rolled over on its side and came to a complete stop buried in a thick clump of bushes.
 
Stephen’s head hit the side of the door and he slumped over the steering wheel in a cloud of dirt and leaves.
 

Paulie slammed to a stop.
 
He grabbed his tool kit and jumped out of the car.
 
He slowly approached the MG.
 
No movement.
 
He walked over to Stephen.
 
Stephen seemed to be knocked out.
 
He grabbed him below the armpits and pulled him from the car.
 
He took a coil of rope from his kit and bound Stephen’s hands behind his back.
 
He quickly wrapped a blindfold over Stephen’s eyes and then hoisted him into the back seat of his rental car and pushed him down to the floor.
 

Paulie went back to look at Stephen’s car.
 
It had careened into the woods but was still visible from the road.
 
Paulie broke some branches and tossed them over the back of the car making it almost invisible to anyone driving down the road.
 

He jumped back into his car, checked to make sure Stephen was still out cold, turned around and headed back towards town.
 
Halfway there, Paulie slowed down as it dawned on him that he couldn’t take Stephen back to the motel.
 
He had foolishly told Scott and Joe where he was staying.
 
He had to think of some other place to go.
    

The cabin!
 
It was hidden in the woods and not visible from the road.
 
It was the perfect place to stash Stephen before heading back to
New York City
.
 
Paulie turned the car around.

Now if he could only remember how to get there.