Johnny answered the phone one Wednesday afternoon. Dad was at work of course, so he couldn't answer it, and Mom was busy in another part of the house and not near the phone, and Nonno didn't speak English so he never answered the phone. Johnny only happened to be home because he'd called in sick at Gastaldo Concrete, where he worked for the summer, with some kind of food poisoning, and by that time he felt a little better but still in no condition to do the backbreaking work of spreading concrete.
"Hello?"
"Johnny? It's Joe."
"Joe?" he asked, confused. "Where are you?"
"On Boyne Street."
"Why are you on Boyne Street? You're supposed to be here, weeding."
"I'm here with the police."
"Police?! What the f--"
"Don't tell Mom, please. All I need you to do is come here and pick me and Lauren up."
"You and Lauren? What the hell is going on, Joe?"
"Actually, I can't let Lauren come with me unless you bring her mom. Can you go get her mom and drive her here, too?"
"Joe, you're making no sense. Why are the police there with you?"
"Because something's happened over here, and we need our parents to come pick us up, but I don't want Mom here because she won't understand what they'll tell her."
It suddenly dawned on Johnny that he should ask, "Are you okay?"
"Me? I'm fine, a little shaken, but unhurt. Rachel, I don't know."
"Rachel?!" he squawked.
"And then there's Danny and Mrs. Trybek, they're hurt pretty bad."
"Who are Danny and Mrs. Trybek?"
"I'll explain later. Can you just come? Bring Lauren's mom. Heck, bring Al's mom and Sunny's mom too, I don't think any of them have cars. They can all walk home if there's not enough room in the car."
He sighed in frustration. He wasn't going to be able to do anything if he didn't get off this phone, and the only way he was going to do that was if he just did what Joe said, as gross as he felt right now. He just hoped he didn't have to vomit at any time during this adventure. "I'll bring as many as want to come with me," he said. "Where on Boyne Street are you?"
"As soon as you turn left off Ewen, you'll see the police cars."
"Jesus, what the hell happened?"
"You'll see when you get here."
"All right, fine. See you soon."
He hung up, realized he needed to get into better clothes and went into his bedroom to change. He grabbed his keys and yelled, "Ma! I have to go out for a minute!"
"What?! I thought you sick!" she yelled back.
"I'll be back soon!" he yelled and walked out the door.
He looked over at the two-unit apartment building that Dad owned and rented out, the bottom unit to Rachel's family, the upper to Lauren's. Joe had mentioned bringing Lauren's mom. Why did everyone's parents have to come pick up their kids? What in the world had Joe and his weird friends gotten themselves into, running around looking for lost dogs and playing detective?
He sighed and walked over to the building and up the stairs to the Hasegawas' apartment. He knocked on the door. Mrs. Hasegawa answered as if she were waiting for him behind the door. She was a small, pretty woman, pretty for being a mom, with brown hair in a ponytail, wearing a white t-shirt and jeans, a young look, but it worked for her. "Hello," she said, "you're Johnny, right? I got the call that you were coming."
She had the slightest English accent, and Johnny was charmed by her straightforwardness. "That's right," he said. "I've been volunteered to bring the mothers over."
She chuckled and said, "Well, I'm sure I could have walked, but it will save some time. If the police want to talk to us, I suppose we should get there as soon as possible."
"And Mrs. Mackenzie and Mrs. Parhar? Shall we get them too?"
"Yes, I suppose we should."
She locked the door behind her, taking her purse. No jacket, it was a warm summer day. He noticed how form-fitting the t-shirt and jeans were on her, and thought, this is insane, now I'm attracted to older women? It was because he and Val had finally had sex; now he wondered how talented every woman he met was in the sack, and whether he was missing out on other opportunities now that he'd finally gone all the way with his Italian princess.
As they descended the stairs, Johnny noticed the other two mothers were already emerging from their houses, Mrs. Parhar just across the street, holding the hand of her young daughter, Mrs. Mackenzie at the end of the block. They all met in the middle of Lawrence Street and began talking at once, everything they said variations on the theme of "what have our children gotten themselves into?"
"I thought Sunil was delivering newspapers this morning," Mrs. Parhar said.
"I thought Al was with him," Mrs. Mackenzie said, "but their wagon full of newspapers is still at my house."
"Come with me," Johnny said. "They're all on Boyne Street. I can drive us there." He quickly did a mental calculation. Five passengers, including himself. His car, which his dad bought but for which he was paying him back with the money he made from his summer job, was a 1971 Pontiac Le Mans sport hardtop, a two-door coupe in which he had a lot of pride, spending time each weekend to wash and wax. It would just fit them all, but not their children, and even then it would be snug in the back for whichever three were willing to ratchet down the front seat and climb back there. For three older women, one with a child, this might not be the most comfortable ride.
Still, Mrs. Hasegawa climbed into the back with no complaint, as did Mrs. Parhar, seating her daughter between them (in later years, they would have gotten in trouble for not having her in a car seat,) leaving Mrs. Mackenzie taking the front passenger seat. Johnny was a little disappointed. He would have preferred the tight-jeaned Mrs. Hasegawa beside him, maybe snuggling up against him as he drove with one hand on the wheel and another around her shoulders, feeling the strap of her bra underneath her crisp white t-shirt... Mrs. Hasegawa, are you trying to seduce me?... Jesus, he had to snap out of it.
Once buckled in, he backed out of the driveway just as Mom appeared in the front door, flabbergasted at the sight of her son with three older women in his car. He thought he heard her call out, "Giovanni, where you go?!" but he wasn't going to stop and explain now.
The women were quiet as he drove them east on Ewen Avenue, and he suddenly felt as if he were in a dream. How else could he explain this scene? How else could he have found himself in a car with the mothers of three of Joe's friends, all of whom he'd up until then only known to nod his head at or say good morning to?
He saw the police cars even before he turned into Boyne Street. In fact, there was one blocking the entrance of the street, and the officer with the car asked Johnny to roll his window down. "Do you live on this street, son?" he asked. He had a rather impressive moustache; not as luxuriant as Dad's, but the man obviously worked hard to keep it groomed.
"I don't, but I've brought the mothers of the kids involved in whatever was happening here," he said.
"Ah. Very good. Maybe just park over there and walk in." He indicated the shoulder of Ewen Avenue. It was an awkward park, requiring a three point turn before a parallel park just so he could face in the same direction as the other cars, but no one else was coming down Ewen at the time, so he had all the time he needed.
Just as they all climbed out, the officer blocking the entrance of the street moved his car so that two ambulances could leave. The moms cried out in dismay, echoing Johnny's thoughts. What happened here that involved his little brother and his friends?
To Johnny's surprise, Henry McWilliam, Rachel's dad, was already there, with his arm around his daughter, talking to an officer. Rachel's eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks tear-streaked, but otherwise she looked unhurt. Johnny hoped she was okay. She was cute, if a little feral, and he found it hilarious that she always blushed around him, but of all Joe's friends he tolerated her the best, maybe because he had a soft spot for her after having watched her mother leaving her and her father back in 1971. Oddly enough, Johnny had heard from Joe that her mom had turned up again and was making overtures about returning to the fold. Maybe that would be a good thing for Rachel. Her mom would never tolerate her being that grimey, for one thing.
Speaking of mothers, there was Mrs. Anderson, of all people, Rachel's stand-in for a mom. What the hell was she doing here? She was talking to the police officers and gesticulating.
Finally, he spotted Joe and Lauren, both with their arms around each other. Oh, dear, Mom would not like this if she saw it. Johnny suspected something had been going on with them for a while now, ever since that... weird day in the Spring... when he left through the vestry door and nobody was there... nobody, except Al and his camera, and his invisible friend Sam...
No. He'd promised himself he would never think of that day.
There was Al, with Sunny, whose shirt was ripped for some reason. Al didn't have his camera today, but other neighbours on the street were standing across the street from the house on whose lawn Joe and his friends all stood, taking pictures with their own cameras and commenting among themselves.
Immediately, the mothers he brought with him swooped in on their children, Mrs. Parhar immediately complaining about Sunny's torn shirt, which was probably not the first thing Johnny would have brought up. Mrs. Hasegawa crouched in front of Lauren, hugging her and asking her questions. She acted so young for her age, and Johnny again had visions of that tight backside in his hands...
"Did Mom ask you what's up?"
"Huh?" He blinked and noticed Joe had sidled up to him.
"Mom," Joe repeated. "Did she ask you what's up?"
"Uh, no, but she did ask where I was going, and I think she was scandalized by all the older women in my car."
Joe looked out on the scene of his friends being comforted by their parents and said, "I wish Dad was here, but I'm glad you're here instead of Mom. She'd freak out."
"Will you finally tell me what the hell is going on?"
Joe sighed and said, "Okay, so, we befriended this boy named Danny Trybek. His dad hit him, like, a lot. Not just spanking, I mean bruises."
"Okay," Johnny said, not knowing where this was going but dreading the journey.
"So, on Sunday we brought him to Mrs. Anderson's house, because he'd run away from home and we wanted him to have a safe place to go."
Johnny blinked in surprise. That explained the presence of Mrs. Anderson. "Really?"
"Yeah, and Mr. and Mrs. Anderson brought him back home, because they couldn't keep Danny, apparently it would be kidnapping, but Mrs. Anderson said she would try to convince Mrs. Trybek to leave with Danny, she would try to get her to a shelter, but Mrs. Trybek is an alcoholic and she didn't want to leave because her husband let her keep drinking."
Johnny shook his head in irritation at the jumble of words. To be fair, though, his little brother was probably in a bit of shock, and for the first time in a while he felt protective of him. "Okay. So, how does this explain you being here?"
"So, Rachel and Lauren deliver papers in this area." Joe gestured to the wagon strapped to a shopping cart across the street, which still had a few copies of the Royal City Record in it. Some of the neighbours were plucking copies out of it, including a rather pretty blonde wearing glasses that he hadn't noticed until now. The blonde, to his surprise, was staring at Johnny in a frank appraisal, and he could feel the heat of it even from here.
"Now, we've kind of been spying on the house since Sunday," Joe continued, drawing his attention back, "making sure Danny was okay. Yesterday, Mrs. Trybek chased us away, and she must have told Mr. Trybek about it."
"Uh-oh," Johnny said.
"Yeah. It gets worse. I think Mr. Trybek was fired from his job at Gastaldo Concrete--"
"He worked at Gastaldo?" Johnny asked, surprised. "Maybe I've seen him around."
"He's a big guy. Scary looking. Anyway, I told Dad a bit about Danny's story, and he must have told the Gastaldos, and they must have fired him because they didn't want a man who hit his kid working for them. So, he was home this morning, and when he saw Rachel delivering papers, he snatched her and dragged her into his house."
"Jesus!" Johnny exclaimed, looking back at Rachel in her dad's embrace. "Is she okay?"
"Well, I don't know. I think he might have done something to her, hurt her in some way, she has some bruises..."
"That fucking bastard," Johnny growled, suddenly certain he wanted to challenge the man to a fistfight, even though he'd probably lose. "Where is he?"
"In one of those ambulances that just left."
"What?" Now he was really confused. "Why? How?"
"So, Lauren sprinted all the way back home and got us, and we biked back over here." He gestured to their bikes on the lawn. "Lauren brought her grandfather's sword with her."
"A sword?!" Johnny was gobsmacked. What had they done?
"Yeah, and we broke in through Danny's window in the back. Mr. Trybek came for us, and Lauren cut off his..." He gestured vaguely down, and Johnny's eyes widened. "So, of course he lost a lot of blood," Joe continued. "But Mrs. Trybek's nose is broken, I think she tried to stop him from hurting Rachel. Danny's got some bruises too. They went in the other ambulance."
"He had his... out..." Johnny breathed, realizing with horror exactly what Mr. Trybek might have done to poor Rachel.
It was then that an officer brought something up to Mrs. Hasegawa and pointed at it, then at Lauren. He didn't look happy. Johnny looked at the object and realized it was indeed a sword, a samurai sword, or whatever they called it. A katana?
Mrs. Hasegawa's eyes widened, and she put her hands over her mouth and looked at Lauren, who stared back at her in defiance. Wait a minute, was that blood on Lauren's cheek?
"Lauren cut it off?" Johnny asked, instinctively squeezing his legs together.
"It was really an accident," Joe protested. "She was behind the door with her sword up, ready to strike at him if he came in the room. We had no idea he had... it... out, but she sliced down out of instinct, because he would have hurt us if he got his hands on us."
"So, really, she stopped him before he could hurt anyone else," Johnny said.
Joe nodded. "Exactly. She's the hero, here, but the police are acting all weird around her, like she's the one to blame for all this."
"Well, Joe, come on, she's a kid handling a deadly weapon, of course they're going to wonder how she got her hands on it and where her parents were when she did."
Joe's mouth dropped, and he turned to see two police officers now, one holding the sword in a pincer grip from the hilt, one writing in a notebook, questioning poor Mrs. Hasegawa. Johnny felt an urge to step forward and defend her, but what could he say? He didn't know her and her husband that well, nor had he been there to see what happened.
Al and Sunny sidled up to Joe, their mothers hovering behind them. Al said, "The police have released us now that our moms are here. Johnny, I think you have to talk to the police and tell them you're Joe's brother before they let him go."
"Right," Johnny said. "I guess you didn't bring your camera today?"
"Camera?" Al asked.
"Yeah, last time we saw each other you had your camera with you."
Al's eyebrows furrowed. "When did I see you? At your house that time when you and Joe broke the steamer trunk in your parents' room?"
"No, and it was Joe who broke it, not me."
"You startled me!" Joe protested. "I flew forward and hit it. If you hadn't sneaked up on me it would have been fine!"
Johnny threw his hands up in surrender. "Whatever. Anyway, that wasn't the time I was thinking of. It was at Holy Spirit Parish. You had your camera and you took pictures of the chalk drawings with it."
"Chalk drawings?" Al asked in disbelief. "I don't remember any chalk drawings."
"You told me your friend Sam told you to tell me to go back through the vestry door."
"My friend Sam? I don't have a friend named Sam."
"I got the impression he was kind of an imaginary friend."
Al frowned. "I once had an imaginary friend named George, but he's long gone."
"Who's Sam?" Rachel suddenly asked. She must have overheard them from where she was standing with her father.
Al blushed. The boy obviously had a crush on her. "Johnny says I told him I had an imaginary friend named Sam, but my imaginary friend was George."
"You had an imaginary friend named George? Why didn't you ever tell me about him?"
Al squirmed. "I didn't want you to think I was a baby." He turned back to Johnny. "Anyway, I don't remember ever telling you about a guy named Sam, who I don't know, nor do I remember taking pictures of any chalk drawings. Are you sure it was me you saw?"
Johnny examined Al for a moment, feeling all the dread of that day churning in his guts. Or maybe it was the food poisoning. He thought he might be sick. He swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and said, just to drop the subject, "Maybe it was some other kid," even though he remembered quite clearly that Al had confirmed his identity. If Al didn't remember talking to him, though, then who was the kid who'd claimed to be Al?
Eventually another ambulance arrived, and the paramedics loaded Rachel and her dad inside. "She must have been hurt worse than you thought," Johnny said.
"God, I hope she's okay," Joe said.
Johnny said nothing. After the ambulance left, the police finished up questioning him and the mothers and taking their contact information. When they were released, Johnny approached them and said, "I have limited seating in my car. Mrs. Anderson, would you like a ride home?"
"Yes, please, Johnny, if you wouldn't mind," Mrs. Anderson said. "I had to run all the way over here chasing after your brother and his friends, and I'm quite winded."
Johnny nodded. "Mrs. Parhar, you have a small child. Would you like to come? We could probably squeeze Sunny in too."
"Thank you very much, Johnny," Mrs. Parhar said.
"We have our bikes here," Sunny said. "We have to take them back."
"Oh yeah," Johnny said. "I didn't think about that."
Joe said, "Just take Mrs. Anderson and the moms and Sunny's sister. We'll ride our bikes home now that the police have released us."
"I'd like to at least accompany you all home," Mrs Mackenzie said. "I think the police would like at least one adult going home with you so you don't get into any more trouble. Ellen, would you like to walk with me?"
"If you don't mind," Mrs. Hasegawa -- Ellen, apparently -- said, "I'd like to get home as quickly as possible to call my husband. I need to get him home from the boats to go with me to talk to the police about that sword." She turned to Johnny and, with big, liquid eyes asked, "Would it be all right if I drove home with you?"
"Absolutely," he said, hoping she would ride in the front seat with him this time, now that Mrs. Mackenzie was walking home with the kids. With those eyes and that sexy English accent, she could make him do anything.
Johnny didn't get his wish to have Mrs. Hasegawa pressed against him; the moms courteously allowed the older Mrs. Anderson to have the more comfortable front seat. Still, the imagined feel of her denimed thigh against his inspired his fantasies for many days after, and his food poisoning sickness, miraculously, didn't assert itself the whole way home.
Thanks for reading this far! I had a lot of fun writing this one, recounting the aftermath of that terrible day through the eyes of Joe's pervy older brother, who had no idea what the hell Joe and his friends had been doing all summer. And what's going on with Al? Why doesn't he remember meeting Johnny that day in the spring? Things are going to get a lot weirder soon. If you liked what you read so far, hit "Vote" to send this title up the ranks. Leave a comment and let me know what you think!
Let's return to the present day, with Lauren's intake interview with Omar, a missed phone call from Johnny, and a confession from Rachel, by clicking on "Continue reading."