Chapter Thirteen
Seth was up bright and early Saturday morning, and made sure that Argus was too, although they hadn't actually agreed on a time to get going. Jolene knew all about their plan and was only sorry she was too busy to join them, but she wasn't too busy to fix them a large and healthy breakfast.
Seth knew, somehow, that the 63 didn't run very often on weekends but they could catch it near the half hour at Visitation and Hopland. They drove there and parked in an alley behind a barber shop. Argus didn't say much on the way. He was just following along, letting Seth do all the talking. Which he did. He talked about gardening. He talked about tools. He talked about machinery and chains and office supplies.
Argus had't realized what a chatterbox the guy was. He kept thinking, how'd he get to be like that? How's he find so much to say? Argus couldn't even think of a topic. He was trying, but nothing came to mind. Walking out to the nearly deserted boulevard, Seth suggested they should just wait and see which direction the first bus came, and then take that one. It wouldn't matter much, since the plan was to cover the whole route in each direction, hopping off whenever they saw something that might be interesting, and getting back on again with an all-day pass.
"I'll wait over there, and you wait here, and whichever one comes, the other one runs across," Seth proposed, and crossed the street. The two stood on opposite sidewalks looking up and down the street, while Seth occasionally did something goofy like hide behind a trash can and poke his head out when he spied Argus' startled expression, and call out, "hey man, over here,” like a small child.
Argus was beginning to wonder what he'd gotten himself into. Usually on a Saturday he'd go off for a long walk somewhere, sit in a park and read some grim detective story. He'd been reading the Inspector Mole series, and had already plowed through thirty seven of the fifty eight books in the series. Part of him was already wishing he was doing that instead of whatever it was he actually was doing. Seth at least was enjoying himself, funning around, trying out silly walks and poses and basically showing off for anyone who might be looking. At last a bus arrived, a southbound bus headed down to the harbor. Seth dashed across in plenty of time to board along with Argus. Following, as usual, Argus sat where Seth had picked out seats, in the middle of the very back row.
"This way we can catch both sides,” he proudly announced. There were only a few people on the bus, a couple of older women and the driver, a large and friendly fellow. The bus rolled off and halted every couple of blocks whether there were people waiting at the stop or not. The driver called out every intersection with equal flair.
"Cortland,” he'd boom. "Next stop, Cortland Avenue.”
Seth actively peered out the windows on both side, swiveling his head back and forth and still talking practically without interruption.
"My guess is we just might see that office park, or else the playground with the seesaw. Look, I brought my copies of the photos and the articles. Did you bring the originals? No? Just as well. I've got mine here. Want to look through them? Old lady in a black dress. Did you see an old lady in a black dress? Maybe one of the gals up front there? No? Well, she's supposed to be in a garden anyway. But if you see anything, just holler. Pull the rope, we'll get right off,” but for all of his observing, neither of them saw anything of interest.
Argus wasn't really paying attention. He heard Seth's voice going in and out of his head, and the houses and buildings and cars they passed by barely registered either. The whole thing was a puzzle whose pieces didn't fit together. That was what he'd decided, and he wasn't going to try to figure it out. In just a few days he'd be twenty three years old, and nothing would happen, and nothing would change, and there was no good reason why anything should.
The bus turned off the boulevard and headed down some fairly small side streets, this way and that in a roundabout pattern that didn't yield any more passengers. Finally it came to the end in a rundown Old Town neighborhood close to the waterfront. The two old ladies got off at the very last stop, while Argus and Seth didn't move from their seats.
"This is it, boys,” the bus driver called. "End of the line. We ain't going nowhere for another ten minutes"
"That's okay,” Seth called back, "we're in no hurry."
"All right by me,” said the driver, as he pulled out a cup that may have held coffee and glued it to his face for awhile.
"Excuse me,” Seth said, after a couple of minutes, "How do you turn this thing around? Do you just back it up?"
"Oh no,” said the driver, "We go through that little passage there,” and he pointed to a gravelly alley that didn't seem wide enough for a bus to squeeze into, but it did, a few minutes later, when they took off again. They squished through the space between crummy apartment buildings close on either side, and past an opening between two of those that yielded a quick view of another side street, one that went directly to the waterfront.
"Holy moley,” Seth jumped up, and pulled on the rope. "We've got to get off, man."
"What's up?" Argus asked. He had almost fallen asleep.
"Next stop's in two blocks,” the bus driver called, as he lurched the bus out of the side street onto a road.
"Come on,” Seth grabbed Argus by the arm and pulled him up out of his seat. "We've got to go back there.”
"Okay, okay,” Argus said, shaking loose. He didn't like to be touched, and his irritation prevented him from even wondering what Seth was so damned excited about. He found out a few minutes later as they trudged up the sidewalk to the alley.
"It's the two red cars,” Seth explained. "They're there, I saw them, at the end of the block.”
"What red cars?" Argus asked.
"The ones in the photo,” he said.
"At the office park?" Argus remembered.
"Yeah, but they're not. Look, look, there they are,” and as they got closer he saw them. Two identical Audi three hundreds, fire engine red, parked squarely in front of a rundown, seemingly abandoned old bungalow, which was surrounded by a six foot high cyclone fence.
"It's the house!" Seth declared.
"The one with the family,” Argus added.
"Yeah, but no family,” said Seth. It was an incongruous sight. The cars looked shiny, brand new, and had customized license plates that read "HAUDI2" and "HAUDI3,” but the bungalow was in very bad shape. Its white paint was peeling all over, and the windows were all boarded up with plywood adorned with spray painted tags. The driveway was shattered cement mostly covered by weeds.
"What are they doing here?" Seth wondered aloud, looking around for a sign of the drivers.
"Maybe they're out on the water,” Argus suggested, and it was a reasonable idea. The harbor was only a few blocks away, and this was a discreet parking spot.
"Too inconvenient,” Seth told him. "An Audi owner would never park here unless he had business."
"Could be trouble,” Argus said, and Seth nodded. Seth was thinking of going on inside of the fence, since there was a gap in the corner that could easily be breeched, but Argus' comment made him think twice. Could be a drug deal, he thought. You don't want to get into that. So instead, he contented himself with walking around as much as he could.
A thick hedge covered one side of the yard, and behind it a drop to the water some ten feet below. Argus had trailed behind him that far, but they both turned around and went back to the cars. There, on the other side of the street, was a dusty old playground, filled with rusting swings and ancient equipment, including an old metal seesaw where two children were playing. Seth stared at Argus and said,
"I'm certain those kids were not there a minute ago.”
"I don't know,” Argus muttered, and he couldn't have said what he thought. He knew he had not noticed them, or even the park itself, but did that mean they weren't there? He felt like he was walking in fog, though the morning was sunny and clear. Seth crossed the street and, shuffling through his collection of papers, said
"They must b
e the boys in the photo.”
"I don't think so,” said Argus.
"One is a girl,” and she was, though she could have easily passed as a boy.
She was taller and bigger than the other, and her hair was shorter, but she wore a similar outfit of denim and sneakers and tee. She was shouting as she pushed off the ground and soared up to the heights, while the boy seemed to hold on as best as he could. She was the one clearly driving that train. The children seemed very familiar to Argus. From ten feet away he was struck by how similar they were to his brother and his brother's friend Sapphire, when Alex and she were both around ten.
He kept drifting closer, but cautiously, as if they were wild creatures and he didn't want to scare them off. Seth was bolder, however, and walked straight up to the pair. The girl saw him coming and leaped off the seesaw, sending the boy crashing down on his butt. She was laughing as she shouted, running away,
"I'm going to the monkey bars. Last one there's a rotten egg!,” as the boy picked himself off the ground, and hobbled after her.
"So like her,” Argus said, and Seth turned to him and asked,
"Who?"
"What?" Argus stopped. "Oh, a kid I once knew. Of course it's not her. She's in Africa now, or somewhere like that. War correspondent, last thing I heard."
"Wow,” Seth replied, impressed. When they looked back, the children were gone. Not on the monkey bars. Not in the playground. Just gone. The cars were still there, though, behind them, and the broken down house was there too. Argus shrugged.
"What do we do now?" he asked.
"Catch the next bus,” Seth replied. They had hoped to see more, to see something else, but that was their haul for the day. They saw a lot of the city, for sure. All the way across and all the way back, and the whole trip took more than five hours, including a lunch break and a coffee break, and a walk at the other far end. There they remembered the old football stadium, and how they'd both been there - Seth with his dad and Argus with Alex - to catch a Sea Dragons game now and then. The stadium had lasted less than ten years. It was beautiful, though, they agreed.
The Sea Dragons team moved to Nebraska, but still kept the name, which was weird. Joey Dalton, number ten, it turned out, was both of the guys' favorite player. That point of datum gave Seth enough ammo to chatter for another half hour. But the site of the stadium was a huge empty lot, nothing but rubble, and nobody was there except an old man at the very far end, who seemed to be dragging around some kind of metal detector.
"Good luck to that guy,” was all Seth could say about that. Argus just grunted. He grunted a lot.
The truth of it was, he had nothing to say. The weird scene with the kids gave him something to think about, vague recollections of childhood, but the rest of the day he was dull. Seth kept trying his best to amuse, and Argus for his part tried as well, but by the end of the trip they were tired and gave up.
Argus felt bad, like he had nothing to offer. Anyone else would be more fun to hang out with than me, he reflected. Seth was just disappointed that they hadn't come up with more answers. Both were grateful to get back to the car and get home. Argus was hoping for a little alone time, but it seemed that was not in the cards.