Amateur Hour

Tuck

Tucker Rawlings was the one who opened the front door to admit their guests. His brother-in-law lacked some of his usual self assuredness, as he shook his hand, and the boy beside him had wary eyes, behind dark rimmed spectacles.

Tuck shook hands with the young man, too. He had a firm, dry grip, and the hand had a hint of fading callouses. The pressure was firm enough, but no firmer than it had to be.

“Come on in and sit down then,” he invited them, clapping Liam lightly on the shoulder. “What’s your name, son?” he asked the boy.

“Rob Miller, sir. You must be Mr. Rawlings.”

“I am, and it was remiss of me, not to say so. Make yourself comfortable, and I’ll introduce the rest of High Council,” he joked. “My beautiful wife, Lisa; my lovely and talented daughter, Toni; and my son-in-law, Will. Everyone, this is Rob Miller.”

The kid smiled a little at the quaint introduction ceremony, and sketched a wave, as he took the armchair next to Liam’s.

“What will you fellas have, to drink?” Toni asked, rising. “We have coffee, iced tea and some lemonade, I believe.”

“Coffee for me, please, Toni,” Liam replied. “Rob?”

“Iced tea, ma’am, if it’s no trouble,” was Rob’s well-mannered answer.

“None, at all. I’ll be right back.” Toni walked out to the kitchen, and in a moment, they could hear the ice dispenser grumbling, as ice cubes clinked into a glass.

Tuck fixed Liam with a stare. “You’re in a heap o’ trouble, boy,” he drawled, channeling every Georgia lawman, ever. He softened it some, with a slight grin, then sobered. “More than you realize, maybe.”

“I don’t think anyone saw us, Tuck. It was dark, and I was parked in a partial blind spot to the outdoor cameras.”

“You came up 97?”

Liam nodded. “It’s the only route I know.”

Tuck frowned, a little, thinking. “Well, that’s good luck, then. I don’t think there are many cameras, if any, along 97. In Georgia, they don’t record or save data, in any case.”

“I didn’t even think about traffic cameras,” Liam admitted, looking both sick and shamefaced. His companion’s eyes were wide, with realization, too.

Toni returned with their drinks. Liam managed a smile of thanks, for her. Rob was more verbal. “Thank you, ma’am,” he said.

“You’re very welcome,” Toni smiled, before resuming her seat, next to Will.

“The biggest concern is cell towers,” Tuck said. “I don’t know how much of a problem it might be, frankly. Cell companies aren’t supposed to record conversations, and it would be hard to get one admitted into evidence, in court.”

“It’s not out of the ordinary for me to call my sister. I do it, at least once a week, these days. Usually around the same time of day, too.”

“Yeah, and that’s good. Your trip up here is out of the ordinary, though.”

“I supposedly had a fight with my wife,” Liam pointed out.

“That might play better, if you spent the night here,” Lisa spoke up. “When you call Janice, to tell her, you could always tell anyone who asks, later, that you were even more ticked off, after speaking to her, so you decided to stay here.”

“You’re so devious,” Liam observed, smiling. “Reversing cause and effect, and lying about both.”

“Still,” Toni said, “Rob will be missing, tomorrow. And Liam will have paid an unusual visit to the campus, in the interim.”

“Maybe I stowed away, in his car,” Rob suggested. “I was going to run anyway, and I saw an opportunity too good to pass up.”

“You would have to have a pretty compelling reason to take a chance like that,” Tuck observed.

“Would a death warrant be compelling enough, Mr. Rawlings?” The boy set his glass down on a coaster on the end table, and reached for his backpack.

They all watched, intrigued, as he dug to the bottom and produced a cheap, generic greeting card. “I promised I’d show you this,” he said, handing it first to Liam, who looked at it, inside and out with disgust, but no surprise.

Liam passed it across to Tuck. The card stock was flimsy, reminding him of children’s Valentines. On the front was a dancing cartoon bunny holding a red balloon. ‘Congratulations!’ was written across the balloon, in black lettering. There was nothing on the inside, except a handwritten number, in red ink.

“What’s this?” Tuck asked, tapping the number, with his index finger.

“My student ID number.”

“You’re sure? It’s fifteen digits long.”

“The last five are the only ones that matter. I’m sure. I’ve worn it on a badge, on a lanyard around my neck every day, for a year. From dawn to dusk. It’s stamped on my uniform tags, so that I get the right clothes back, from the laundry. Wanna see?” He was beginning to get wound up.

The kid reminded him of Will—calm and quiet, until he wasn’t. A glance at his son-in-law told him that Will had recognized this, too.

“Easy, Rob,” Tuck soothed. “I’m just verifying. Why does this amount to a death warrant?”

“Evidently, it’s customary for kids to get them, before they disappear,” Liam jumped in, as Rob looked ready to spit nails, at what must have sounded, to him, like another challenge of his word.

Lisa’s big, goofy Lab chose that moment, to defect from her, in favor of Rob.

“I see,” Tuck nodded. He set the card on the coffee table, not offering it to anyone else. It didn’t look like the boy wanted it back, either. “Is it just boys?” he asked, addressing Rob, directly. He knew it wasn’t; Janice had told him as much, but he didn’t know whether or not she had shared that conversation with Liam.

“No, sir,” Rob replied, more evenly, scratching Gillie’s head. “It alternates. It’s not just white kids, or straight kids, or kids from a particular graduating class. It’s not even only computer-nerdy kids with glasses,” he scowled. “I don’t know what the common denominator is…” He trailed off, thinking.

Tuck let him do it. “Anyone want more coffee?” he asked, getting up. Lisa and Liam indicated that they’d like refills, so he went out to the kitchen and came back, with the pot, and cream and sugar, for Lisa, on a wooden tray.

“There is one thing,” Rob said, when Tuck was settled next to Lisa, once more. “We all have a history of running away, either from home, or from school… And, we don’t send or receive letters, often.”

“Precedented behavior,” Tuck mused. “That helps, Rob.”

“How does it help?” Liam frowned. “I mean, sure — one could identify possible future targets, but what can be done, for them?”

“Nothing, by you.” Tuck’s voice was stern. “This has to be handled by authorities from outside. You really pressed your luck, tonight, and I’m not sure you aren’t in danger, now. You proved it, though: you’re Lisa’s brother—no DNA test, required.”

“You’d probably better call Janice,” Lisa advised. “It’s getting late.”

When Liam adjourned to the kitchen to do so, Rob looked nervous and uncomfortable.

“Which kind of desperado are you, Rob?” Will finally opened his mouth. He was grinning affably at the kid. “Are you too cool for school, or do you dream of joining the circus?”

Rob actually chuckled at this. “Too cool for school, sir. I’m also: ‘defiant, resentful of authority, and have a bad attitude, in general’, according to my evaluations.”

“I suspected as much, from the rude way you’ve treated Toni.”

“Will!” Toni objected. “Don’t listen to him, Rob. No one else does.”

“Anything else?” Will asked, still smiling, but his eyes were serious.

“I did get caught with a THC vape pen, once,” Rob admitted. “Coughed so hard, I was picking the aglets of my shoelaces out of my teeth.”

Will relaxed, and laughed. “Sounds like you’re a bad seed, all right.”

“It was the end of my recreational drug use, but it’s what finally got me sent away. The last straw, my dad said.” He shrugged, as though it no longer mattered why he’d been sent off to the school.

“I’m afraid we can only offer you a roll-away cot, for tonight, Rob,” Toni said. “Since the baby came, we have only the one guest room, and I imagine Liam should take that. He’s old,” she winked at her dad, who was only a few years older.

“I could sleep on a cot, the couch, the floor, or a bed of nails, ma’am,” Rob smiled.

“It’s a comfy cot. Will, Honey, would you get it out? I’ll find some sheets and scare up a pillow.”

When they were gone, Rob looked even more uncomfortable. Clearly, he didn’t know what to make of Tuck.

“It’s dark, sir,” he began, at last, “but those are some fine looking barns, out there.” He nodded toward the door.

“Thank you,” Tuck replied. “We keep our own horses in the older, smaller one. The newer one is for our boarders. Do you like horses?”

“Oh, yes sir!”

Rob’s enthusiasm surprised him.

“You ride?”

“Not Western, sir. My parents don’t care for the style. I think it looks like fun, though. More relaxed.”

“We’ll have to remedy that, then, while you’re here. If all else fails, I have one mare who was a dressage horse. Maybe we can find an English saddle.”

“If she can convert, I can, too,” Rob grinned.

He didn’t mind being ribbed, a little. That was good, Tuck thought. It wasn’t healthy for young people to take themselves too seriously.

**************

Liam

Liam had slept poorly, tired as he had been. Shutting his mind down had been nearly impossible, and he had missed Jan, besides. This morning, he had been up and ready to go, before Toni had had the chance to feed him, much to her chagrin. Toni was likeable, but she could be something of a mother hen.

He preferred light breakfasts with his wife, in his own kitchen, to the farmhand morning meal Toni invariably served up, much as he liked her. Jan probably wouldn’t be up, yet—it was Saturday. Maybe he’d stop and pick up some croissants and some of that Irish butter she liked. He thought they still had some honey, but he’d also get some of that, just in case, and a jar of Nutella, for himself.

He was famished, he realized. He hadn’t eaten anything but a medium order of fries, and a few pieces of beef jerky since lunch, yesterday.

*******

Janice was up, however, when he got home. She jumped up from her seat, on the couch, came to hug him, before he could even say much to Spike, or set his grocery bags down on the little credenza, by the door.

“Missed me, huh?” he joked, as he returned the hug, bags and all.

“What can I say? I’ve gotten a little bit attached.” She turned her face up, to be kissed, and he obliged.

“I brought breakfast,” he announced. “If I don’t eat, soon, I may pass out.”

“Croissants,” she said appreciatively, peeking into the paper bakery bag. “Sit and have some coffee, while I pop them into the toaster oven.”

Liam unloaded the other things from the plastic grocery bag, first, and set them out, on the table. This is where he wanted to be, he thought, with satisfaction. Jan had broken out her trusty stove top percolator, and the house was redolent of fresh brewed coffee.

The butter wasn’t quite soft enough, so he grabbed a plate, before sitting down, to cut some of it into thin pats, while he sipped his first cup. “Now, tell me everything about your evening,” he invited. “We didn’t get much of a chance to talk, last night.”

“It wasn’t as exciting as yours,” she said, setting two more plates and some knives on the table. “I got Spike all duded up, and we went for a stroll.” She perched on the chair opposite his, ready to pull the rolls out of the toaster oven, when it summoned. “Insofar as being seen, it was a success. No one can ignore Spike, in his Sunday best,” she grinned. “I talked to a few people, and ran into Ted, believe it, or not.”

The oven chimed, and she got up.

“Oh, I believe it,” Liam said.

“Stop. He was walking his dog, too. She’s a sweet thing; German Shepherd. Spike liked her. Hanging out with Gillie paid off, I think. Her size didn’t seem to bother him, at all. Ouch — that’s warm,” she remarked, dropping the second roll onto the plate, before reaching for a pot holder, to handle the remaining two.

“Hurt yourself?”

“No. They’re perfect. Want some jam?”

“No, honey, I’m good. I’m going to get freaky with this Nutella, in a minute. So, what did old Ted have to say, for himself?”

“Plenty. He gave me the skinny on why the neighborhood parties aren’t fit to attend.”

Jan joined him at the table, and set the rolls down. Liam tested the heat of one, before putting it on his own plate.

“Apparently, the potlucks are rated R,” she continued.

“Really?” Liam cut his croissant open, and began to slather the chocolate nut-butter on it. “That’s a surprise. Given their collective work demeanor, I’d have thought their parties would be boring as hell.”

“Ted said his wife was a little uncomfortable with all the flirting, but he put it down to shyness, on her part. It does sound like she doesn’t get out much.” Janice went on to explain about the elderly relative, while she spread butter and honey on her own croissant. “The so-called ‘special’ parties, though. They’re special, all right. X-rated, verging on triple-X.”

“You don’t mean…?” Liam paused, with his croissant halfway to his mouth, for a second bite.

Janice nodded, chewing a bite of her roll.

Liam burst into a laugh. “The suburbs!”

“I don’t know how funny it is, Sweetie. If you ask me, it’s almost cult-y. All of these people, affiliated with a school, where students randomly but regularly go missing? I didn’t like it before, and I like it less, now.”

“I see your point,” he agreed, sobering. “The man’s right. We do not want to hang out, with these people.”

“Speaking of hanging out, Ted invited us to a cookout, this evening.”

Liam sipped his coffee, considering. “I don’t object, in theory. It’s not a bad idea, to get to know him, better. I don’t think we should confide too much, though.”

“No—I don’t either. Yesterday, I stuck to the story that you were irritated with me. Made a point of my intention to bribe you into a good mood with fried chicken.”

“You do have a talent for knowing how far to go, with embellishments, and when to stop,” Liam grinned. “I’ll bet that struck just the right note.”
“It did. He laughed and said fried chicken always worked on him, too.” She paused. “I guess you know I spilled the beans, to Tucker, or you wouldn’t be warning me.”

“I suspected, yeah.”

“Well, I know when to keep my trap shut. Tucker’s family. Ted’s just an affable acquaintance. We’re absolutely on the same page, about that.”

*******

Janice

Neither Janice nor Liam was prepared for the reality of Ted’s wife, Nina. He hadn’t lied about her looks—she was very pretty. She was also very young. Janice guessed she wasn’t more than twenty-five, and her manner made her seem younger, still.

Nina had welcomed them, with bashful smiles, and had been very taken with Spike, who sported only a powder blue bandanna, this afternoon. Her smile had broadened, when Janice had offered her the large bowl she had brought.

“I hope you like potato salad,” she said.

“We love it, all of us. Look, Hannah—Janice brought potato salad,” she addressed an old lady, who was sitting in a wheelchair, nearby, occupied with a crocheting project.

“Isn’t that nice?” Hannah smiled. “Put it in the fridge, Nina-Bird, and bring Janice a Coke.”

Ted introduced Liam to Hannah, then. Her reaction was one of cautious friendliness. Janice was amused, by this. Few adults ever regarded Liam with any kind of suspicion. The old lady had nodded to him, with only a trace of a smile.

Nina returned, in no time, with a cold glass bottle in her hand, and sat down on the sofa, patting the place next to her, in invitation. Janice sat, and Spike hopped up, too.

“Spike,” she warned.

“Come on, big guy,” Liam urged, patting his leg.

“It’s okay,” Nina said. “Dogs are allowed on our couch. If he wants to play with Raven, though, she’s outside.”

“Maybe we should find her,” Ted suggested. “The coals are probably ready, anyway.”

“Good,” Hannah said. “You two go. Cook, drink beer, and talk sports. Do man stuff.” She made a shooing motion, with one hand.

Liam smothered his amused grin, but Hannah didn’t. Janice guessed she was on the verge of considering him to be all right—maybe.

Spike hopped down, to follow Liam, and the dismissed gentlemen left the room. Janice took small sips of her Coke. It was a sweeter drink than she was used to, and a little of it went a long way.

The house was older than the others in the neighborhood, and it hadn’t come out of the same mold. It was a single story house, but it was larger than her own, built from brick, as opposed to cinder-block with a brick facade.

“They don’t make them like this, anymore,” Hannah said, seeing her roving gaze.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude,” Janice blushed. “I was just thinking how much bigger your living room is, than mine. And the paintings are beautiful.”

They were. There were depictions of swamps, with cypress knees jutting from the water, and wisps of Spanish moss clinging to the thin branches of the trees. A couple were of Seminole chickees, and Seminole people, going about their daily lives. The art all seemed to be dedicated to the Florida that few tourists were interested in; the Florida of birds, reptiles, turtles and manatees; the Florida of cattle in pastures, and smudge pots in orange groves.

“These are some of the best ones,” Nina said. “We keep some of the not-so-good ones, in the bedrooms. I want to burn the rest, but Teddy won’t let me.”

“They’re…You painted these?”

Nina nodded, seeming unimpressed with her own work. “From photos, mostly. I could never do them, from memory. My memory isn’t always good. I’ve seen these things, and I remember how I felt, but not always how they looked – what the scene looked like.” Nina frowned, as if she wasn’t sure whether or not she was expressing herself, clearly.

“Well, I can get an idea of how they felt, from looking at these.”

Now, Nina beamed at her. “Thank you, so much!”

Hannah was smiling at her, too, and nodding. “I tell her that, but she doesn’t believe me. I’m just her old Auntie.”

“Oh, Hannah—You’re not just that,” Nina laughed. “You’re my best friend, besides Teddy.”

It clicked for Janice that Ted’s was no ordinary marriage. She was reminded about what he’d said when they first met with regard to protecting innocence. Nina was as pretty as a flower, and as innocent, too.

“Why don’t you show Janice your studio, Nina-Bird?”

“No — no one wants to see that mess!”

“I would,” Janice said. “I can’t paint, but I’ve always loved the smell of linseed oil and turpentine. I understand, though, if it’s your own private space.”

“Later, maybe?”

“Okay.” Janice nodded.

There was a short, slightly awkward lull in the conversation.

“How did this nice house come to be in the middle of the rest of the cookie-cutter houses, Hannah?” Janice asked, before the silence could become too heavy.

“My husband passed away, and I had to sell off some land,” she replied.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s not so bad. It would have been too much for me to take care of, myself, and I’m comfortable, money-wise. I don’t love having other people so close, but they leave me alone. At my age, being left alone is about all you can ask, from the neighbors — and the government. Ted and Nina take good care of me.” She smiled at Nina. “How do you like the school, Janice?” she resumed, turning her attention back to their guest.

“I like the students. I don’t care much, for the school.”

“Teddy feels the same way,” Nina put in. “You and Liam are the only people from there that he’s liked, in a long time. They’re creepy, aren’t they? The others?”

“Very. They remind me of gators on a riverbank, just waiting for something to hit the water.”

“Yes! Just like that,” Nina agreed. “They nibble on the little somethings, while they wait on a bigger something.”

“Gators don’t exactly nibble,” Hannah pointed out. “But, I do. Nina, we forgot all about those deviled eggs.”

“We did, didn’t we? I’ll get them.”

“Give me a shove toward the bathroom, while you’re at it, dear,” Hannah proposed, laying aside her crochet. “You’ll excuse us, won’t you, Janice?”

“Of course. Do you mind if I get a closer look at some of the paintings?”

“Not at all,” Hannah replied. “I like a guest who can amuse herself.”

The paintings were good—worthy of any show Janice had ever seen. The ones with people in them, particularly so. No two were alike. The style wasn’t photographic, but the nuances were there. The colors were stunning, and lively. Janice was still gazing at one with two finished chickees in the background, the thatch browned with time and weather, and men weaving fresh, green fronds into the roof of the one in the foreground, when Nina and Hannah returned.

“You like that one,” Hannah observed.

“I do. I like all the activity, and the color.”

“The light was really good, that day,” Nina said. “It wasn’t so bright that it bleached the color out of everything. The photo is there, on the table, just under it.”

Janice bent to look at the framed 8” x 10” framed landscape. Nina had captured the energy, perfectly.

“Incredible,” she said, tearing herself away, to be sociable. While they ate eggs and chatted, however, her eyes were still drawn to the painting, from time to time.

*******

Liam

“I want to thank you, for coming, Liam,” Ted said, tossing two and a half racks of ribs onto the grill, along with several burgers. “It means a lot, to me, but even more to Nina.”

“Thanks for the invite. Do you mean to feed us, to death?”

Ted chuckled. “The burgers are just in case, and Raven likes to have one. Bet Spike would, too.”

“He’ll be in heaven. Beer?”

“Please, and thank you. Help yourself to some of those eggs.”

“Jan told me about your experiences with the neighbors,” Liam admitted. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“I don’t. I only mind that it happened. Nina didn’t deserve it.”

“No. No woman does. And, she seems…”

“Yeah. She’s special. She… Well, she saw something very traumatic, when she was young. It left its mark.”

“She seems like a gentle soul.”

“She is that.”

“How did you meet?” Liam ventured to ask.

“At a Tribal Fair. Nina had some of her artwork on display. She’s reclusive, you understand, by nature. But, she was surrounded by members of her clan and her family. In that kind of environment, she’s almost as outgoing as Janice, believe it, or not. I was smitten,” he admitted, with a sad smile. “And yes, I know she’s half my age.”

“I wasn’t going to go there. It’s not my place.”

“Maybe not, but you were thinking it. It would be strange, if you weren’t. I’m keenly aware of it, myself, but, at the same time, it doesn’t matter. She’s my other half.”

“There you go, then.”

“Anyway, I do know that she needs more than just me and Hannah, in her life. More pleasant events. Even if we don’t repeat this one, it’s one more than she’s had, lately.”

“I don’t think you’ll have to worry about that. Nina is exactly the kind of person Jan attaches herself to,” Liam chuckled. “She’s a sucker for introverts. She still has her tentacles wrapped around my antisocial sister. Before you know it, Nina will be calling Jan, every whip-stitch, for no reason, at all.”

“That would be nice. If Janice didn’t mind, of course.”

“She’s always there, for that.”