The Smart Kid

Chapter 14 - More Doubts

When Charleen awoke, the school day had ended. She felt much better, refreshed, as if she'd had a full night's rest. She gathered her things and walked through the central office, intending to hurry home. Mr. Heim exited his office just as she passed.

"I'll walk with you to the meeting," he said, carrying his briefcase and wearing his usual gray suit and tie.

Charleen had forgotten about the mandatory staff meeting. She considered her options. If she declined, she'd have to explain herself to the intimidating principal.

She faked a smile and followed Mr. Heim. 

Charleen fidgeted throughout the meeting, anxious to get home to call Matt. The doubts were growing and she wanted answers immediately. She needed to challenge him about sending Wayne to her office with forged notes. Maybe she didn't know this man/boy at all.

Finally the meeting ended! She sped home intending to call him one more time, and if he didn't answer, then she'd drive to his apartment, despite his veiled warning. She followed her curving driveway to her backyard.

As soon as she turned off the engine, the old shed door squeaked open and Matt came out. He ran to the passenger side, and jumped in, keeping low. His head remained below window level.

"Matt! Why were you in the shed? And why were you not in school?" Charleen demanded.

"Did you drive here directly from school? Don't look at me! Pretend I'm not here," he ordered, his breathing heavy.

"What's going on?" she asked, facing straight ahead, but glancing occasionally in his direction.

"Were you followed from school?" Matt asked.

"Followed? I don't know. Why? Who'd be following me?" Charleen shrugged at the ridiculous question.

Matt's head rested against the passenger door, his expression, serious. 

"Do you remember that secret government committee that I mentioned?"

"Yes. That was crazy—"  

Matt's stare pierced into her. "Charleen, just scan the area. Do you see any people?"

"No, my back yard is secluded. I can only see into the yards of my nearest neighbors." She surveyed the houses.

"Is anyone spying from windows?"

"No." She frowned.

"Are there any workmen, or repairmen on the telephone poles, or—"

"No. No one. No one followed me." She raised her voice.

"They may not know about you yet. But they will." Matt nodded his head with certainty.

"Matthew, please tell me what's happening. The 'secret committee' that you joked about last week is real?" She looked directly at him.

"Yes. And they want me." 

"Who? Who is in this committee?" 

"Perkins." 

"Perk—you mean John Perkins, the old guy who's been a Senator forever?"

"Yes." He studied her reaction. 

Charleen stared back, as a counselor, evaluating his sanity. He could be suffering from a paranoia fantasy as a result of reading too many comic books, month after month, in his solitary apartment. Senator Perkins was well known, and respected, and a thousand miles away, in Washington, DC. It seemed too fantastic that he was involved. But his notoriety would also make him an easy personality to pin a conspiracy theory on. Suffering a downward, paranoid spiral is like a man falling off the edge of a cliff, losing control and grasping at anything jutting out strong enough to support him and his false worldview.