The Broken Date

'2':Part 2

Jack's POV:

Felix dropped the keys onto the floor of the car. "Hey, are you ok? Maybe you're in shock or something. Did you hear what you just said? You just said Mark shot the guy." I was silent for a long time. 

"I know what I said," I told Felix finally. " It was Mark."

"Mark robbed the jewelry store? Mark killed the manager? Get real." Felix's words were as flip as ever, but the confidence had gone out of his voice. 

I opened my eyes. "I saw him. It was Mark. It was Mark. It was Mark. How many times do I have to say it before you'll believe me?"

"Ok, ok," Felix said, frowning. "You don't have to get angry with me." Felix searched for the keys under the seat. "It is a little hard to believe you know."

"Yes," I said, tears filled my eyes. "Yes, it's hard to believe. But I saw him."

Felix started the car and backed out of the parking space. We drove in silence for a while as he maneuvered the car out of the vast mall parking lot.

"Why would Mark rob a store? Where did he get a gun? Why would he do such a dumb thing? Why am I asking you these questions?" He reached a hand out and grabbed my shoulder. "I'm sorry, I guess I'm really upset, too."

"That's ok," I said quietly. I didn't know what else to say. I was asking the same questions over and over again in my mind.

Sure, Mark's family was poor. His dad was one of the few blue-collar workers in Cloverhill. It was hard for Mark to fit into a upper-middle-class community like ours. But he was good-looking, a great athlete and managed to make a lot of friends. Yes, he was always apologizing to me for not having a car, for not being able to buy me expensive presents, for not being able to dress as stylishly as the other kids.

But he knew those things didn't matter to me.

Didn't he?

"I don't know what else to say," I told Felix with a sigh. "I thought I knew everything about him."

"Wait a minute! Whoa!" Felix cried, screeching the car to a halt in my driveway. He jerked the gearshift into park, then held a finger up in front of my face. "How many fingers do you see?"

"What?" I was in no mood for silly games. Why couldn't Felix realize that?

"Come on, Jack. How many fingers."

"One. Why?"

"Were you wearing your glasses in the mall?"

"No," I replied. "You know I never wear them when I go out. Too vain, I guess."

"So. There you have it. You're nearsighted, right?" Felix had a broad, triumphant grin on his face.

"Yeah, a little."

"So, you couldn't see clearly in the jewelry store. The guy only looked like Mark. But it wasn't Mark. That's the only logical explanation." He sat back in the seat and grinned at me, very pleased with himself. 

I frowned and shook my head. "I wish I could believe you. . . ."

"But?"

"But it was Mark. Do you really think I wouldn't know Mark? Do you really think I wouldn't recognize someone I know so well? I wouldn't need to see him clearly to know it was him."

Felix's smile faded, replaced by a thoughtful pout. "I guess you're right. I guess his raven-black hair along would give him away. You should tell him to wear a cap the next time he pulls a---" He stopped himself.