Found [Ongoing Serial]

20. Selections from the Diary of Kimberly Twins - Part 5

March 1, 2012 - Thread

Right after we left the hospital, we went to Ryan's house, up to his room, and shut the door.

The whole way back, we didn't say anything to each other. A couple of times, I saw him reach up and wipe tears from his eyes. He remembered only good things about Karl Baker and thought him a good man until right then.

I was sitting on Ryan's bed. He was pacing back and forth, sometimes reaching up and rubbing the top of his head with his hands.

"He could be lying," I said.

Ryan shook his head mid pace. "No, I don't think he was. When he told us, I felt like a curtain lifted. Didn't you?"

I thought about it. It was true. Something happened in that hospital room when the revelation was made. It was like a rock was thrown into a pool of algae-covered water, and the waves cleaned it off so you could see to the bottom.  Carol disappearing wasn't a unique instance of horrible. It was a link in a long chain of horrible that went back to the dynamite explosion and probably beyond.

"Yes, I felt it," I said. "What do we do now, though?"

He stopped and looked at me. A big smile spread across his face, and it was my old Ryan back in the room with me.  He reached up with his arm slowly and made like he was grabbing onto something and then pulling down fast.  It was at once a profound and silly gesture, and I couldn't help but giggle a little.

"What?" Ryan asked, still smiling, and then he made the gesture again, but a little faster.

"You weirdo. What are you doing?"

"I'm pulling. On a thread."

"Ok, babe, but a bit more, please."

Ryan held up one finger, "We have one thread. We pull on it."

"Karl Baker," I said.

"That's right."

I chewed on the inside of my cheek for a second. "But we can't talk to the Bakers. Can we talk to your dad?"

Ryan shook his head. Then he let out a short laugh and nodded. "Yeah, I can. I just have to figure out how to ask him without seeming like I'm investigating. I don't think we should let on to my dad that we found this thing out yet."

"Cause we found out because I had a dream and we visited a dying man at the hospital?"

Ryan nodded, "Cause we found out because you had a dream and we visited a dying man at the hospital."

"Ok. But before we do that, we need to do our own research on Karl. Cause I bet if he did this terrible thing, I bet he did other terrible things."

Ryan headed to his computer.

"No," I said. He turned around, confused. So I said, "I mean, go ahead. But Karl would have retired before the Nickelson Herald would have gone online. And they have not even tried to digitize their archives. Seriously. I had to get some articles off of the site last year for school, and it looks like they are using the same layout they did in 2000."

"Ah," Ryan said. "I guess it's time for two crazy kids to visit the library."

I laughed again, "Yeah, Nickelson's own Scooby Gang."

Ryan said as he gave me the double finger guns, "Tomorrow?"

I gave him asynchronistic finger guns back, "Sorry, partner, gotta work. Need pizza money."

Ryan made out like a petulant cowboy, "Well, I'm gonna go, missy. I will make copies of everything I find and show my little lady after she brings home the bacon."

"And tomatoes," I added.

March 2, 2012 - A message received

Something weird happened at work.

It was 100% a Happy Tiger moment.

I was working cash.  When I work cash, I move into a zone where I'm taking money, making small talk and scanning items, but I'm thinking about something else.

It was the end of the day. I was thinking about meeting up with Ryan after work and seeing what he'd found at the library. A man was at my cash. He'd picked out mostly medicine and health related stuff. It was specific enough it brought me out of my daydreams to pay more attention. I'd scanned rubbing alcohol, sodium peroxide, witch hazel, burn cream, bandages, eye drops, ear drops, and there was more.

"Going into medicine?" I said in my best interested small talk voice, not yet looking up.

"It's an old hobby of mine," said a gorgeous voice. That's the only way I know how to describe it. I've never heard such a wonderful voice. I stopped mid scan on a finger splint and looked up.

He was a young - maybe in his early 20s with short, curly, dark hair and deep brown eyes. His skin was so smooth. Perfect. He was wearing an expensive looking, white button-up T shirt and equally expensive looking jeans. He was taller than Ryan and his dad and built like a runner. He was as beautiful as his voice.

"Whah," I said very intelligently, holding the spint he wanted to buy in my hands.

He smiled. It wasn't a mean smile. It was more of a smile that said, "I know, right?"

"It's ok," he said kindly. "Keep going. You got this."

So I kept going as well as I could, scanning items maybe two or three times and then needing to correct and finally putting them through.

"You're Carol Baker's friend," he said.

"Uh huh," I said again, showing how charming a creature I was. Probably spit was collecting at the corner of my mouth. I don't know. Could have been full-scale drooling at that point.

"You know, we're all really sorry she hasn't been found yet. All of us, we want her to be found."

"The town. I know," I said for him.

He shrugged. "All of us," he said again.

I nodded.

"But Kim, you need to be careful," he said.

"How do you know my name?" I asked a little alarmed. But also a little thrilled?

He smiled and pointed at my nametag.

"Oh," I said. I tried to scan the next item. I was almost done.

"A disappearance is a dangerous thing," the man said. "Where I come from, it's not just one person who vanishes. It happens many times until whoever is doing the vanishing is caught and brought out into the open.  We all want that to happen. We all want an ending."

I nodded and managed to scan his last item. That's when he reached out and gently put his hand over mine. It was just the right amount of smooth, warm and firm.

"We'll be praying for you and your friend, Kim. We're counting on you."

Then he smiled and paid me. I noticed as he was walking out that he was wearing sandals. Who the hell wears sandals in February? Was he some kind of really hot, rich hippie?

I moved out from behind my register which was ok because there was no one else in line so I could watch this guy get into this car that I didn't recognize but Ryan assured me later was very, very expensive (Zenvo ST1).

On this very expensive car, he had a bumper sticker reading, "I brake for turtles!" 

It's only then I thought of the last thing he said. Everyone was counting on me? I looked around Happy Tiger. No one was counting on me as far as I could tell. No one was even looking at me. Except my manager was, apparently, counting on me to get back to work.

It was an odd thing to say to a girl working cash at a store in a small town. In fact, most of what he said should have alarmed me. Ryan thought it sounded a bit like a threat.

It should have raised all kinds of alarm bells with me when he said it. It didn't. I didn't feel alarmed or threatened. I felt ... in awe?

What kind of message was that?