Amateur Hour

Franklin

He opened his eyes, to find that it was still dark — or, was it dark, again? Franklin had no clue. He was in a sitting position, more or less, with a seatbelt across his lap, in some kind of a vehicle. He sensed motion, anyway.

When he brought himself into a full upright posture, he noticed that the window next to him was squarish, but with rounded corners.

Am I on a freaking plane?

The pressure in his ears suggested he was. A glance to his right, confirmed it. Franklin was alone, in his row of three seats. No seats, down the middle of the craft, so it wasn’t a jumbo jet. How, in the hell, had he come to be on a plane?

His cottony mouth went even drier, as a rush of panic hit his system. He remembered going to bed, but nothing, after that. There were other people here, all his own age, and all spaced far apart, in the cabin. To prevent them from talking, seemed the obvious explanation.

“Hey!” It came out as little more than a whisper. Franklin cleared his throat, swallowed what spit remained in his mouth, and tried again. “Hey!”

This time, he was heard.

“What do you want?” The question was asked by a man who looked like a probation officer, and probably was. It wasn’t harsh, but it wasn’t solicitous, either.

“Water, please?”

“Can’t do it. We’re about to land. You’ll have to wait.” With that, he walked away.

For an instant, Franklin thought about calling him, back. Then he rethought it. Damned if he was going to beg for water, from someone who was clearly a douche-nozzle. He could wait.

About a minute later, he felt the wheels of the plane bite the landing strip. There was no announcement, from the pilot, regarding their location, or the weather conditions, or anything else, for that matter.

“Thank you for flying Delinquent Airlines,” someone piped up, from a seat behind and across the aisle, from him. There were some snickers, until the probation officer-looking guy, came stalking back, from the front of the plane.

“Who’s the smartass?” he demanded. “Who’s the comedian, on my aircraft?” He slowed his pace, to fix each one of them, with a baleful look.

“Takes himself seriously, doesn’t he?” Franklin could almost hear Guy mutter, in his head. And, that would be just like Ramirez, too, wouldn’t it? Go for the joke, and miss the fact that the man had said, ‘my’ aircraft. Former military. Probably, a Marine. Or, a wannabe, which would be far worse.

“Listen up,” he said, in a thundering voice. “We will be deplaning, fore to aft. You will remain in your seat, and you will not talk. When you are told, to do so, you may unfasten your seatbelt, then you will rise, and fall in line. You will not talk, in line. You will be led to a bus, which you will board. You will not talk, on the bus. These are simple instructions, and they should be easy to follow. That is all.”

The next time he returned, the man pointed his index finger, to each kid, in turn, indicating that they might join the line. Franklin was disgusted to find that his legs weren’t very steady, and that he felt dizzy, when he stood up. He’d definitely been drugged, when he had come aboard.

He didn’t remember walking aboard. Had he been carried on? Didn’t seem likely. Franklin wasn’t fat, but he was tall, and heavy with muscle. Carrying him on, like so much luggage, pushing him across two seats, and strapping him into a third, would have been a feat.

Roofies, then, or something like that. Something that would have left him compliant, yet partly ambulatory, and screwed with his memory. Oddly, this made him feel a bit better. He might not actually be losing his mind.

It was a good little stagger, to the end of a short line of young people, waiting to disembark. He guessed himself to be somewhere, in the middle of the queue. It wasn’t long before the man in charge, bringing up the rear, called to them to move out.

Franklin followed the girl in front of him, wondering, without really caring, who was leading the first person, in line. It was chilly, on the tarmac, and Franklin realized, with a jolt, that he was wearing only the clothes he had gone to bed in — a pair of gym shorts, and a T-shirt. He shivered, in the alien chill.

This wasn’t Florida, wherever it was. The air was dry, and it sucked the rest of the moisture out of his nose and mouth. A surreptitious glance showed him that some of the others in the group, were as poorly dressed for the occasion, as he was. The girl, in front of him, was wearing light, cotton pajamas, and shaking so hard, he could hear her teeth chattering. This might be as much from fear as from the cool air.

He had less pity for himself, or any of the other guys. Men should man up; but girls were another matter. He didn’t recognize a single soul, so far; at least, not from the backs of their heads.

“Eyes, front,” the man in charge admonished, in passing. “Form two lines. Ladies, to the right, men to the left. The ladies will board, the bus, first. Behind the driver, one to each seat.”

Well, at least that would get the girls out of the cold air, Franklin thought. He hoped they would be quick about it. His goosebumps were getting goosebumps. He also needed to take a leak, but he tried not to think about that.

Thankfully, the girls were quick, and before long, he was seated on the bus, which felt toasty warm. He fell asleep again, with his head resting against the window.

When he woke, he felt more clearheaded. The sun had come up, and he looked out his window, to see what he could see. What he saw, was cactus, beige sand, and low sedges that he couldn’t name. In short, desert.

It was intriguing and terrifying, in equal parts. Where were they? Still in the US? In Mexico? Who knew the desert could have so many different types of plants? He was able to pick out several varieties of shrubs, alone, though he couldn’t name them.

Did his parents have any idea, at all, where he might be? His last letter home, had gone unanswered. He’d mentioned his grade on the English Lit Essay. Did they even give a shit, anymore? Even Davie, his little brother, had stopped writing.

The trip seemed to last forever. It certainly lasted long enough for Franklin to lose interest in the landscape. He was hungry, but that was more bearable than his thirst. His tongue was mere sandpaper, scraping the roof of his mouth.

In the middle of absolutely nowhere, the bus slowed, and pulled off the road, coming to a stop. Franklin hoped nothing was wrong with it. Being stranded, out here, would not be good.

“Time to water the tires, ladies and gentlemen. Ladies, first. You have five minutes to get off, pop a squat, and get back on.”

“Out here?” one of the girls yelped. “In front of boys?” A side glance revealed it to be the girl in the light cotton pajamas.

“You have the option. Urinate now, or hold it, for another hour. No one will see you, on your side of the bus.”

“Except for passing traffic,” the indignant girl muttered.

The minder and the driver both looked amused. “I don’t think you need to worry about traffic, Princess. But, no one is forcing you. You ladies now have four and a half minutes. Any more questions?”

There were none, as the girls, including the one dubbed, “Princess”, filed off. Franklin wondered, for a second, what was to keep one or more of them from taking off, then he smirked at himself. No one was going anywhere, in a desert, if they had any sense.

When their turn to relieve themselves came, there were no questions, from the male contingent. Franklin shuddered, at the release of his bladder. It seemed a cruel irony to be so thirsty, and so full of water, at the same time.

Back on the bus, their minder handed out a bottle of water to each of them, before the bus was in motion again. It wasn’t cold, but it was water. It took immense restraint to keep himself from chugging the entire bottle, at once, but Franklin managed. It was becoming clear that necessities were being rationed, and luxuries were nonexistent.

***

It was mid morning, when they reached their destination.

They climbed off the bus, to stand on a flat piece of dusty hardpan, before two large canvas tents, in two shoulder to shoulder lines, girls on one side, boys on the other. The welcoming committee consisted of a woman and two rather brawny looking girls, and a hard-featured man flanked by two boys who looked like the definition of the word, “goon”.

The unidentified man who had seen them thus far, said a few low words to the hard-featured man, a formidable fellow, in desert camouflage, before leaving them there, without a backward glance.

“My name is Wolfe. Welcome to the Outskirts,” their new minder said. “You are here, to be redeemed.” He began to stroll up and down the two lines. “Each and every one of you was born to wealth and privilege,” he resumed. “You have squandered both. You were given opportunities for education, that many people would kill to have. You have wasted them, or abused them. You were given every chance to be productive, useful, and decent. You chose to be idle, useless, and decadent — some of you, to the point of being degenerate.” He paused, presumably to allow his rant to sink in.

“Beyond me, are the Suburbs. The Suburbs are where people, better than you, have earned the privilege, to live. There is electricity, running water, and air conditioning, in the Suburbs.”

Franklin gazed in the direction the man indicated. He saw nothing much, save for a few painted cabins, squatting in the dust, along a narrow gravel road, about a half a mile away. As if to accent the lecturer’s point, a window unit air conditioner rumbled to life. Strange, how well the sound carried, across the expanse of nothing.

“You will not live the Suburbs, until you earn the privilege. The residents of the Suburbs serve the residents of the City. Don’t bother looking for it. You can’t even glimpse it, from here. What’s in the City, you may be wondering. In the City is everything you threw away. Autonomy, comfort, education, and a chance to be something. You will not live in the City, until you have earned the privilege. Say goodbye to the ladies, boys. You will not see another female, until you move to the City.”

Of course, no one dared to say a word, but they did all watch, as the girls were marched away, to a smaller bus. The boy next to Franklin did spit into the dust, expressing his disgust. One of the heretofore silent goons marched forward, faced the offender, and punched him, in the gut, without any change in facial expression. Then, he turned, and marched back to his place.

“Rewards and punishments are swift, in the Outskirts,” Wolfe announced, oblivious to the boy who was now doubled over, trying to recover his breath. “There is no delay, and there are no appeals. There are opportunities, however. Any of you may, at any time, challenge one of my enforcers to single, unarmed combat. If you win, you take his place, and he takes yours, as befits a disgraced individual. You four,” he addressed the first four boys in line, which included the one who had been struck. “You will go with Jasper, to your tent, to find your cots and change into your uniforms. The rest of you are with Clark.”

Franklin fell in behind Clark, who happened to be the tough guy, with the fist. He wondered if he could take him. The guy was tall, but he didn’t appear to be any more muscular than himself. Still, Franklin was dehydrated, and not at his best, from whatever drug he’d been given. Someday, though… Someday.

*******

Steph

She had been asleep for all of two hours, when the knocking woke her.

“I don’t need housekeeping,” she called, hoarsely, and sank deeper into her pillow.

A second round of knocking followed.

“No, thank you!” she bellowed, a bit louder.

Before she could get comfortable again, the knocking resumed. With a growl, Steph flung back her covers, and padded to the door. Her partner stood there, wearing an affable smile, armed with coffee and donuts.

“Go away,” she said, attempting to close the door, but Guy stopped it, with his foot.

“That’s the partner I know and love — full of sunshine and goodwill. I got you chocolate frosted. They’re good, too — I ate one of mine, on the way over. Still warm. Be a sport, Steve, and let me in.”

She stepped aside. What else could she do? It was hardly his fault she’d only stopped working, when she realized it was 7 am. Flopping into a chair, at the little kitchen table, she watched him set out the donuts and coffee. He was as chipper as she was logy; all bright eyes and energy.

“Where did you get these? Wait — how did you get these? I have your keys, and your debit card.”

Guy’s grin was broad and impish.

“The donuts came from a little shop, at the end of town. I found it, on the internet. I keep another spare key, on the passenger side. I also have a couple of hundred, in cash, stashed under the passenger floor mat, for emergencies.”

“Yet, no go-bag, in the trunk,” she deadpanned.

Guy froze, with a donut, halfway to his mouth, to stare at her. He began to chuckle, shaking his head. “I forgot all about it. I do have a bag, in the trunk. I can actually wear some of my own clothes, today.”

“The ones you’re wearing are your own. You bought them, brand new,” she pointed out. She took a bite of one of her donuts. It was delicious, and yes, still warm.

“You know what I mean. I don’t dress like this.” He tugged at the front of his green polo shirt, for emphasis. “I just grabbed what was close to hand.”

“I have to admit, it’s not your color. Makes you look like an olive.”

“You’re so charming, in the morning. Why do you look like you’ve been on a three-day bender, anyway?”

“I spent most of the night, re-creating us.”

“Yeah? Who did you make me?”

“No one who will require colored contacts,” she teased, knowing he hated them. “You’re a Mexican-Indian. Congratulations.”

“I can rock that. I think I can even speak with Mr. Billie’s inflections, if I try.”

Steph didn’t doubt he could. Guy had a remarkable ear, for accents, and was a talented mimic. He’d once had her in stitches, reciting a dirty limerick, as Mr. Rogers.

“How about you?” he asked.

“Mine is still emerging. I can only falsify so much background, for either of us, not being a hacker. I didn’t really get started on identities until after midnight. Too busy, digging into the operations of Hermes. Sadly, for us, they don’t contract anything out. We’re either going to have to get hired, or try to pass ourselves off as new hires, among the old.”

“If they even have any openings.”

“They do. I filled out an online application for each of us. I sent a copy of yours to you, in email.”

“Can’t wait to find out what I’m going to be, next. What job did I apply for?”

“Janitorial, night shift. If I overstepped —”

“You didn’t. I’m sure I’ll be completely believable.”

“I hope so. I still don’t know how I’m going to create fake licenses.”

“Don’t apologize. You’re doing great. I could try saying I’m undocumented, and see if I can work, under the table. Then, you’d only have to fake one driver’s license.”

Steph had another bite of her donut, and a sip of coffee, while she thought about it.

“I did some work last night, too,” he added, while she was ruminating.

“Oh? I thought you went back, to get a decent night’s sleep.”

“And, I did. Don’t I look like it? Anyway, before I called it a night, I fired up your laptop, again. I think I may have a lead on a couple of houses.”

“What?!”

“Hear me out, okay? For what this place is costing, we can rent a two-story house, near Dothan. Use the bottom floor, for the business, and live upstairs.”

“I can think of at least three reasons, right now, why that wouldn’t work.”

“Lay ‘em on me.”

“Have you forgotten that I have a kid?”

“Galen would live there, too, of course.”

“I can’t just uproot him, Guy. He has his friends, and his school…”

“It’s summer. Summer break is just around the corner. You seemed ready to set up business, in this general area. You would have had to bring him to you, sooner or later.”

He had her, there, in a way. The truth was, she hadn’t had time to think much about relocating her life, and her son. When she looked at Guy, she saw that he was staring at her, strangely.

“What?” she demanded, feeling defensive.

“Nothing. Only… When you were all set to start looking for office space, you suddenly threw your hat into the ring, to help Ted out.”

“I did that, to try to help you!”

“I believe you. At the same time, maybe you’re not so ready to commit, as you thought you were.”

“That’s bullshit, Guy. I’ve been running the whole outside part of it, by myself, for weeks.”

“It’s all right, if you’re not sure.”

It wasn’t, though. She could see it. He would try to make himself believe it was all right, and try to make her believe it, too. Yet, it wasn’t.

“I’m sure. What else am I qualified, to do?” she said.

“Qualified, has nothing to do with it. You’re qualified, to do a lot of things. Investigation is where you shine, though.”

“I’m over a barrel. By now, Julio will have destroyed me, as employee material, for any other firm.”

“I’m in the same position, I’m sure. So, we’re both blackballed. We’re over matching barrels. Galen is smart. He’ll understand why he has to move here, and he’ll adjust. Kids are adaptable. What else? You said three reasons.”

“The second most obvious is… Living together?”

“Like friends don’t share houses, all the time. I’m talking three bedrooms, minimum. A fourth would be nice, for guests, but I’m not greedy. What’s the difference, Steph? I walked from my room, to get to yours, in order to have breakfast, in your kitchen — where I ate dinner with you, last night. Why not share a kitchen?”

“It might confuse Galen.”

“Now I call bullshit. Our sharing a bedroom might make him wonder. Sharing a kitchen, not so much.”

Steph felt a blush creeping up her face, and spreading out to her ears. She wasn’t a prude, but it was the first time any such idea had been dragged out into the open, between them.

“I can find lady friends. I’m not the kind of man to pester my best friend, or my business partner, if she doesn’t want to be pestered.”

“I know.”

“Too bad for any lady friends, that you’ve become the gold standard, but…”

“Guy!”

“Lighten up, Steve. I’ll behave myself. What’s the third hole, in our boat?”

“Zoning. The zoning has to be right, for operating a business.”

“Noted. We have an appointment to see a place in Enterprise, at noon. Mixed use zoning — business and residential. I registered for the appointment, online, and got the confirmation email, this morning.”

“You work, fast.”

“If I overstepped…” His eyes glittered with suppressed amusement, as he let it dangle.

“You’re such an ass. At least, you made it late enough for me to get myself pulled together.”

“I’m sorry you didn’t get much sleep. If I’d known, I would have set it up, for tomorrow.”

“It’s okay. I can take a nap, later.” She sipped her coffee. Something occurred to her, that made her frown.

“What is it, now?” Guy asked.

“It won’t work. We can’t rent anything, without using our own names. It’ll tell Julio exactly where we are. He’s not likely to send a hit squad after us, but, he’s not above harassment.”

“That’s why we put the lease, in my full name, Angel Jose Miguel Guillermo Ramirez. Julio knows me only as: Guillermo Ramirez. You’ll still be invisible, to him, unless you have your heart set on being on the lease, too.”

“I don’t. Let’s just hope he hasn’t screwed your credit.”

“He wouldn’t. His best hope of finding out where we are, is to wait for one of us to use a card. The last thing he’d want, would to be to make that impossible. He’s waiting to pounce, the first time we order a pizza. I think it’s worth the risk, in the long run. If you don’t, we can wait.”

Steph considered. It was a risk — but, to have Galen with her again, and to be in a more permanent place, was very tempting. Yet, Guy’s money wouldn’t last forever. She had one account, under her maiden name, that she could close out, in relative safety, to augment that. She would have to go back to Atlanta, for the rest. It would be foolish to hazard it, at a local bank.

“It doesn’t cost anything, to look. Could I borrow your car?”

“I’m done with it, for now. Get me a key fob, while you’re out, and I’ll put this other spare, on it.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Don’t be silly. Right now, it’s the company car.”

“I might be gone, for a bit. I have a few errands,” she warned.

“I can amuse myself. Minesweeper is calling my name.”