The Keys Are In It (Part Seven)
Sunday, July 20th, 2008
Herein are several people whose lives at first do not seem connected. Their paths converge unexpectedly. This is Part Seven.
Part Seven
Cooper sat in the passenger seat of the “borrowed” Mitsubishi Endeavor. His lifelong friend Hunter drove. This was the craziest thing they had done, but denying it was fun would be lying to himself.
“Donuts, here we come!” Hunter said.
“And then the Comic Con, right?” Cooper said.
“What?”
“Star Wars Fan Days Two. It’s free.”
“Coop, we’re not going to a sci-fi geek-out today. Going and parking this thing kind of defeats the purpose.”
Defeated was exactly how Cooper felt. Why had he gone along on this ride in the first place? “Wasn’t it kind of dumb to take a car from our own neighborhood? How are we going to get it back without anybody noticing?”
Hunter sighed. “Coop, Coop, Coop. How many times have you heard of joyriders taking the car back to where they found it?”
“None.”
“Exactly. Now relax and get out your cash for donuts.”
“I didn’t bring any cash,” Cooper said.
“Shit, man. I guess I have to handle everything.” Hunter opened the console between the front seats and looked inside. “Aha.”
“What?”
“He’s got one of those coin organizer things built in. Must be at least three dollars here.”
Cooper looked up in time to see a red light for their lane.
“Hunter! Stop!”
——-
Blake sat in the middle row of the minivan’s seats, his dog Mouse on his lap. Behind him sat a man he did not know, holding a gun and telling everyone what to do. His only idea for situations like this — running — was out, so although he had no relationship with God to speak of, he did what came naturally.
Blake prayed. He asked God to protect not only him but the family who had stopped to help. Although he had lived next door to them for nearly a year, he had not bothered to get to know them. After finishing he opened his eyes and looked over at Reid, Liz and Alex’s two-year-old son, strapped into the seat next to his. The toddler had stopped crying, but tears still streaked his face.
“You will drive me to Defensor,” said their captor.
“Just let them go, please,” Blake said. “They don’t work with me. They don’t know anything.”
The man in the back pulled a children’s toy from a trash bag and waved it in front of Reid, who happily squeezed it. The toy bleeped and blooped and blinked red lights. “If they cooperate, they will not be harmed. The actions of individuals today will be irrelevant once I have carried out my mission.”
“I don’t know why you think I can help you. I don’t even have level five clearance yet,” Blake said.
“No, but you can get me in the building, Leftkowitz. Once I am inside, I have other methods to get what I need.” Then, to Reid, “That’s a good boy.”
“Alex, Liz. I’m sorry for getting you involved,” Blake said.
“How sweet,” said the man. “Somebody’s bucking for the Neighbor of the Year award.”
Still aiming the gun at Blake with his left hand, the man continued playfully shaking the noisy toy near Reid’s outstretched hands. The little boy’s tiny fingers batted at it, just short of satisfaction.
Alex turned around in the driver’s seat. “Leave our son alone,” he said firmly.
Blake noticed movement out of the corner of his left eye and turned to look. He was dumbfounded to see his own SUV run the red light and head straight for his side of the van.
——-
Lori’s mother climbed out of her blue Toyota Matrix to greet them. She looked puzzled.
“I’ll tell you when we get in the car,” Lori said. “We have to keep him covered.”
The two women Lori believed were suburban prostitutes smiled at her mother as they approached the car holding up loose ends of the afghan. Her mother held open the back door while Lori and her newfound friends worked to tuck Doug safely into the backseat. Once the enshrouded Doug was seated, Lori closed the door.
“Thank you, ladies. You’ve been very kind,” Lori said.
The two women turned on their high heels and clopped their way to their respective vehicles. Lori wondered what their haul was from the night before.
“What’s going on, honey?” her mother asked. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, Mom. I’m fine. It’s Doug I’m worried about.”
“I’ll be fine,” Doug said, his voice muffled behind the tightly woven yarn.
Lori, who preferred not to have her mother behind the wheel, settled into the driver’s seat and smiled as she pulled out into downtown Plano traffic. “We’ll get you to whatever help you need for your… um…” she trailed off.
“I know you’re probably wondering,” Doug said. “So I’ll just come out and tell you. I am a vampire and if it weren’t day time you both would be my unwitting concubines by now.”
“Very funny, Doug. That is one thing I remember about you,” Lori said. “So, Count Dracula, how do you make a living?”
“I barely have to anymore. I have a free place to live by way of a dead uncle. At my job I work hours that don’t require me to go out while the sun’s up. Count Dracula’s a myth, by the way. We real vampires don’t take much to tales about him.”
“You still didn’t tell me what kind of work you do.”
“I’m a web designer,” Doug said.
“Which plays right into your need to work weird hours.”
“Precisely. You’re as smart as you were back in college. I look forward to biting your neck.”
Lori’s mom looked worried. “Don’t be scared of this guy, Mom. He always loved a good joke.”
“That’s not what’s bothering me,” her mom said. “Look.” She pointed to a minivan directly ahead as it approached an intersection.
Lori looked. She saw a man in the back of the van, apparently sitting atop full garbage bags, and in front of him were three more adults and a toddler. “Looks like a normal family ride to me,” she said.
“That man in the back. I think I saw him wave a gun,” her mom said.
A gray SUV plowed into the minivan’s back left corner, spinning it to face Lori, then struck another SUV and stopped.
Lori swerved to miss the wreckage, but caromed off a car in the adjacent lane and smashed head-on into the minivan’s grill.
(to be continued)