Authors: C. Kennedy
Her mouth became a small O. “You can talk now, sugar?”
He nodded.
“What happened to your chin?” She looked at Michael, at Jake, and at Jerry. “What happened to all of you?”
Michael smiled. “Jake and I took care of some jerks who gave Christy and Jerry a hard time.”
“Looks more like they took care of you.”
Jake snickered. “You have it all wrong, Miss Lottie. They were laid out after we got done with them.”
“I hope so, Jacob. Sugar, what do you want to eat today? I bet you’re going to tell me mac and cheese and potatoes.”
Christy nodded.
“Here you go, sugar. Potatoes just like you like ’em and a bowl of mac. Michael, what do you want on that empty plate of yours?”
“Meatloaf. Thanks, Lottie.”
“Meatloaf it is. Now, how about my friend Jerry?”
“Hi, Miss Lottie. I’m almost done with that picture for you.”
“I can’t wait to see it. I’m gonna hang it over my fireplace. What do you want to eat, sweetness?”
“I’ll go with a turkey burger.”
“One T-burger on wheat, lettuce, tomato, mayo, and hold the rest. Here you go. Jacob, Stephen? I know you boys already ate, but did you want something else?”
“Naw, Miss Lottie, I’m good,” Jake said quickly.
“I’m fine, Lottie, thanks,” Stephen added.
“Off with you now. I gotta feed the rest of the starving masses.”
They took seats at their usual table, and Michael slapped Lisa’s hand in a half-high five, half-hello shake.
“Hi, Mike.” She always called him Mike.
“Hey, Lisa. How’s it going?”
“Nice to see you met Jerry. Did I hear Jake right? Someone hassled him?”
“Yeah, it was the dude who punched Christy yesterday.”
“That little bastard, Duncan Ferguson?”
“If that’s his name, yeah. You know him?”
“Yeah. Rumor has it he’s so nasty he killed his guinea pig by sticking firecrackers up its ass. The kid has a real mean streak.”
Michael reached for the pepper. “Lovely.”
“Sick,” Jake said.
“That’s just gross,” Stephen chimed in.
Jake took a drink of orange juice. “You know what they say about kids who maim and kill animals. They grow up to be serial killers.”
Lisa crossed her arms over her big chest, a scowl painting her face. “Don’t put it past him, Jake. There’s something wrong with that boy.”
Jerry leaned in. “He threw gasoline on our neighbors’ dog and set it on fire.”
Lisa tsked. “That boy ever comes near you again, that goes for you too, Christy, you let me know.”
“Can I ask your opinion on something?”
“Sure, Mike.”
Michael lowered his voice. “I know Jason Whitman picked a fight with you last week, and you heard what happened Saturday night after our championship meet. How far do you think he’s willing to go?”
“He’s what I call a universal hater with no filter.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s messed up in his thinking. Jealous, hateful, bitter. Name anything, and he’ll find a reason to hate it.”
“Did you see the news last night?”
“Yeah, why?”
“That was my car that blew up.”
Michael didn’t think he’d ever seen surprise on Lisa’s face. She didn’t wear it well.
“That prick, Jason, blew up your car?”
“If we didn’t have security with us, Christy and I would have been history.”
“Shit, Mike, that’s serious business. You sure Jason did it?”
“They have it on surveillance footage from the parking lot cameras, but they didn’t catch him. Jake and I were thinking that a car bomb isn’t Jason’s style. Can you think of anyone who might help him out with that?”
“Hell, Mike, all he’d have to do is hang out in front of Whitey’s for a night. For fifty bucks he’d have a pipe bomb the next night.”
“That easy?” Jake asked.
She nodded. “You want me to find out?”
“Isn’t Whitey’s a biker joint?” Michael asked.
Lisa shrugged. “Among other things. A few supremacists, a little S and M crowd, a closet bear or two.”
Jake shook his head. “That’s what I call social integration.”
“How can you find out?” Michael asked.
“Our uncle owns the place.”
“I thought some Hell’s Angel owned the place.”
Lisa smiled and nodded, genuine humor filling her eyes.
“You have a Hell’s Angel in your family? That must be interesting.”
“You gotta broaden your horizons, Mike. You ought to see our moms’ rides.”
“You have a whole family of bikers?”
Lisa laughed, her face a toothy grimace. “Hey, Gav?” she called across the table.
Gavin turned from speaking with Noah. “What?”
“Why don’t you take Mike on a ride sometime?”
“Gotta clear it with Smitty, but sure. Let me know when you want to go, Michael.”
Unsure he wanted to go on a motorcycle ride with a plethora of Hell’s Angels, Michael thanked him anyway.
“Take a walk with me, Mike.”
Michael glanced at Christy and Jake. “Be right back.” He followed Lisa beyond the cafeteria doors and a few feet down the hall as she made a call.
“Hey, Cherry, it’s Babylicious. I need to talk to Smitty. I have a problem only he can solve.”
Babylicious? No way!
Michael fought not to laugh at the nickname. He wanted to live to tell about it.
“Yeah, hey, Smitty, did you see the news last night? That car bombing…? Yeah, that. Now, do you remember me telling you about that problem that’s going down at school…? That’s right. Mike and Christy. And do you remember me tellin’ you about Saturday night when Mike almost got shot…? Yeah, that’s right…. And you remember that dumbshit who took a swing at me last week…? Yeah, him. Okay, he’s the one causin’ all the trouble. The car that got bombed belonged to Mike, and the dumbshit got the bomb from somewhere…. Yeah, you got it.” She turned to Michael. “Who’s the detective on the bombing?”
“Davis.”
“You hear that…? Yeah…. Oh yeah, I forgot about that…. Thanks, Smitty.” She terminated the call. “The Great Lesbian in the Sky is with you, Mike. Davis hangs out at the bar sometimes. He likes one of the waitresses, and he knows how to ignore certain things. Smitty likes him. Why don’t you give Davis a call and tell him you know Smitty’s niece, and maybe Smitty will have some information about that bomb by tonight?”
“Wow, thanks, Babylicious.”
Her cheeks pinked. “Only my family calls me that, Mike. Don’t tell anybody. You’ll ruin my rep.”
“Your secret’s safe with me.” Michael dialed Davis and relayed the information. “Yeah, we’re standing outside the cafeteria doors.” Michael looked left to see Detective Davis headed their way. He terminated the call.
“Speak of the devil,” Lisa said softly.
“Detective Davis, this is Lisa, Smitty’s niece.”
“Nice to meet you, Lisa.”
She shook his hand. “Likewise, Detective.”
“You think your uncle might know something?”
“He’ll find out. You know how he feels about dealing to kids.”
“I do. A favor? If no one dealt to the kid, ask him if he knows of any requests for a bomb even if it wasn’t through yours.”
“I can do that.”
“Thanks, Lisa, I appreciate it. Michael, I need to speak with you for a minute.”
“I told Lisa about the jerk shoving Jerry around. What does he know about the squirrel?”
“Nothing. He heard the rumors and wanted to make you angry.”
“You’re kidding?”
“We put the fear of God into him, and that’s all we got.”
“Are you talking about that little shit, Duncan?” Lisa asked.
“You know him?”
“He’s one mean little lying rat bastard and knows how to pull off the sweet and innocent ‘Oh no, officer, it wasn’t me, I didn’t do it.’” She mimicked a girly voice. “Chances are, he does know about it. When you talk to Smitty, ask him about Duncan’s father. He tried to rape one of ours a few years back and had the balls to show up at Whitey’s. Smitty’s thrown him out more than once. You might also check with Duncan’s friends. Jackie’s the weak link. He’ll tell you if Duncan knows anything. Another thing. I’d have patrol watch the Sage Willow Trailer Park tonight. Duncan lives in that park and so does Jerry. I wouldn’t put it past Duncan to try to finish what he started today.”
Detective Davis withdrew a piece of paper from the breast pocket of his jacket and studied it. “Would that be Jackie Anderson?”
“That’s him. The weak link.”
“You’re a wealth of knowledge, Lisa. Thank you. I’ll be sure to compliment you to Smitty.”
She smiled her toothy grin. “Thank you, Detective.”
“Michael, I’m sorry to have to ask this, but how hard did you hit Duncan yesterday?”
“He knocked Christy out. I returned the favor. Why?”
“Did you actually knock him out?”
“Now that I think about it, no. I hit him a couple of times hard enough to make him think twice about getting up. Why?”
“He’s making noises about suing.”
“Let him make all the threats he wants. It was four against one, and they left Christy in a catatonic state, literally. It took medical intervention to bring him back. As you can see today, there isn’t a damn thing wrong with him. He’s back to his usual bullying. In fact, Christy and Jerry could both file hate crime complaints against him.”
“I could as well, Detective. That boy’s mean and a chronic hater.”
“Okay. Thank you both. Michael, stay in touch.”
Michael and Lisa returned to their lunch table as the first bell rang. Christy looked decidedly distressed, and Michael leaned in and asked what was wrong. Christy shook his head, another silent “nothing.”
Jake leaned in. “Stephen gave him a hug for setting him up with Jerry.”
Michael’s anger shot skyward like a rocket. “What the hell is the matter with him?”
“I handled it. Stephen has a clearer picture now.”
Michael ran a gentle hand down Christy’s ringlets. “Are you all right?”
Christy nodded. “Jake helped me.”
Michael hugged him. Again, he didn’t give a flying crap who saw it. “I’m sorry I was gone so long.”
“What did take you so long, bro?”
“Lisa called Smitty, and then Detective Davis wanted to talk to me again. Smitty’s going to find out where Jake got the bomb, and that freakin’ Duncan kid claimed he didn’t know anything about the squirrel—he was just trying to piss me off. Lisa thinks otherwise. Come on, let’s get to class.”
“W
E
HAVE
an hour to kill before we need to be at Wilson. What do you want to do?” Michael asked as he collected Christy after school.
Christy gave him Groucho brows.
Michael was half-tempted to take Christy up on the implied offer. The fancy new SUV had extra-dark, tinted windows.
God, I can’t believe that thought even entered my mind! Well, okay, yeah, I can.
Christy laughed silently, seeming to read Michael’s thoughts.
“Keep it up.” Michael put an arm around Christy’s waist and tickled his side. To his amazement, Christy burst into hoarse laughter and pulled away.
“You’re ticklish!”
Christy gave him a puzzled look. “What’s this?”
“Ah, I don’t have an English-Greek dictionary handy.”
Christy stopped walking and withdrew his phone. “Spell?”
Michael spelled tickle and, after a beat, Christy laughed softly. “My mother used to do this.”
Michael smiled. “You’re remembering more.”
Christy nodded, pleased.
Michael put an arm around him and tickled him again. Christy pulled away with an infectious giggle. Michael instantly fell in love with it. “You did well today. We have a lot of words for your list. We have touch because you let Jake touch you. We have friend because you gave Jake a hug. We have Cupid because you handled a hookup this morning. And we have calm because you didn’t freak about your locker. That’s a big one and a huge step for you. And we have brave because you went to class after the locker thing. Then we have independent because you hung at our lunch table without me for so long. And we have ticklish.” Michael tickled him again.
Christy shook a finger at him. “No more.”
“Okay. What do you say we watch track practice and review your self-defense paperwork? I think there are a few pages you’re supposed to read.”
T
HEY
sat high in the bleachers and watched Michael’s team practice.
“What is the coach doing?” Christy whispered.
“He’s helping with their starts. Your start is one of the most important parts of any sprint. If you notice, each time Coach shoots the gun, some are off balance coming out of the blocks. Look at Stephen. His hips are too low for his strength, and his shoulders are too far forward. When he comes off the line, he’s going to be catching his weight instead of exploding forward. Here, fold your arms over your chest like this.”
Christy complied.
“See this hand is tucked under your bicep? That means that this is your quick-arm side. The opposite leg is your quick leg. In the starting position, or three-point stance, the quick leg goes behind you, and the other leg, known as the strong leg or power leg, is forward. The power leg is what propels your weight off the line. If your shoulders are too far forward, you have too much body mass in front of you, and your power leg won’t launch you forward. It’ll be lifting your weight straight up, and that’s a bad thing. Stephen also isn’t working his set right. When Coach calls set, his power arm should be ready to come up first. You want to come off the line fast, your strong leg and strong arm propelling you forward, raising your upper body into the run. Watch Stephen. He’s going to come off the line straight up. Now watch Jake. He’ll come off the line balanced, upper body coming up into his run, and he’ll be six feet ahead of Stephen before Stephen gets his balance.”
Coach O’Malley fired the gun, and Christy watched them and nodded appreciatively. “How did Stephen win the race on Saturday?”
“The four-hundred-meter race is more about endurance. You try to run the first third of the race at a slower pace to preserve your strength for the second two thirds and pour on speed in the last third. He’s good at endurance. But when you’re running a sprint or a dash you have to explode off the line in balance, or you’ll lose no matter how fast you are.”