The lead paramedic approached Mrs. Royce with a clipboard, but then she thought better of it and turned to Kristin. "What's his name?"
Kristin thought about that. She finally answered, "His name is William Royce."
"Will anyone be accompanying Mr. Royce to the hospital?"
Kristin answered without hesitation, "Yes, I will." She told me, "Roberta, you call my dad. All right? Tell him what happened, and tell him where I am."
The paramedic instructed her, "You can go ahead and get in the back." Kristin climbed aboard, sat on a bench, and took hold of Ironman's hand.
Mrs. Royce explained to the paramedic, "It's not that I don't want to go. My daughter has allergy-induced asthma. I have to get her back home."
The paramedic ignored that. She hopped up into the driver's seat, and the ambulance pulled away immediately. Mrs. Royce hurried back to her car and pulled away, too, but she went in the other direction.
Only Verna and I were left in the parking lot. I told her, "Thanks, Verna. Thanks a lot."
"Hey, no problem. Thanks to you, too. It's a good thing you were here. That boy would have been inside that thing until tomorrow morning."
I shivered and said, "Can you imagine finding him then?"
Verna told me, "It wouldn't have been my problem then. Tonight is my last night on the job."
"No! Why?"
"Because there ain't no more job. You guys are on your own now."
"Oh. I'm really sorry, Verna."
"Hey, ain't no thang. Don't worry about it. I'm not."
"What are you going to do?"
"Griffin told me there's plenty of jobs down at the County Services building. He said he would introduce me around. He said I could get into Juvenile Justice and make a lot more than I'm making here."
We walked back toward the car. Verna said, "Come on, Roberta. I'll give you a ride home."
"Are you allowed to do that?"
"No. But what are they going to do, fire me?"
I got back into the mall security car. Verna reached under the seat and fished out her cell phone again. She handed the phone to me. "Here."
"What's this for?"
"You're supposed to call your uncle Frank."
"Oh. Thanks." I dialed the number and put the small phone up to my ear. It was still ringing.
Then I heard a slurred voice. "Hello."
"Uncle Frank? It's Roberta."
"Who?"
"Roberta, Uncle Frank. Ironman got hurt. He went into the trash trailer, and he didn't come out."
"Who is this?"
I stared at the little phone, then I put my mouth up to it again. "Uncle Frank, it's me, Roberta." I looked over at Verna. She was looking straight ahead. I tried, "Uncle Frank, Kristin is going to be late. She rode to the hospital in the ambulance with Ironman."
"Kristin's in the hospital?"
"No, sir. She went to the hospital, but she's okay. She rode with Ironman so he wouldn't be alone."
In the background I heard him yell, "Karl! Come here! Take this. It's about Kristin."
Karl got on. He sounded like a frightened child. "Hello."
I felt a great sense of relief. "Karl, it's Roberta."
I could hear his relief, too. "Oh, hi, cuz."
"Listen: Ironman tried to freeze himself to death in the trash trailer, but Kristin and I pulled him out. Kristin rode with him to the hospital."
"Wow."
"They're okay, though. Kristin's okay, anyway. I think Ironman will be, too."
"Unbelievable. Why did she go with him?"
I didn't know. I said, "She saved his life. She made his heart beat again."
"Wow. So the plan was he was gonna just sit in there till he died?"
"I guess."
Suddenly I heard Uncle Frank again. "Karl! What's going on?"
Karl muttered quietly, "I gotta get off." He hung up.
We pulled into my driveway. I said, "I appreciate the ride, Verna."
"No problem, kid."
"I hope you like your new job."
"Thanks, Roberta."
Verna waited until I got safely inside. I saw one blinking light on the answering machine: "This is Detective John Griffin calling for Roberta Ritter. Please call or page me as soon as possible." I pressed the Erase button right down, thinking, Why should I talk to you? To make you feel better about Hawg?
It was so late that I decided to just grab a bag of Doritos and eat them in front of the TV. I switched the set on and moved up the dial until I found The Last Judgment. Tonight Stephen Cross was speaking to a studio audience composed mostly of parents. Here is what he said: "You know, the devil does not sit in his headquarters in hell. The devil is a better businessman than that. The devil long ago franchised his operation. Now the devil has branch offices in every city in America.
"Do you know where they are located? You may not. Or you might say, 'Times Square, New York.' But you would be wrong. You most likely could not name the devil's local branch office. But your teenage son or daughter could. Even if that son or daughter is a good, God-loving, Christian child, that son or daughter knows where to go. It is no secret among the young. The information is whispered among them during sleepover parties, and on three-way-dialing phone calls, and in on-line chat rooms."
This audience was not nearly as emotional as those prison guys, but they started to react. I heard a few amens. He continued, "We have made it very convenient for our children to go to the devil. We have provided them with cars to get there. We have provided them with money to buy drugs, the coin of the devil's realm. And worst of all, we have let them come to believe that the world of the devil is preferable to the world they live in."
Stephen Cross looked into the camera lens. "Ask yourselves now, and admit it to yourselves if it is true: Is there a young person in your life who would prefer living in hell over living with you?"
WEDNESDAY, THE 11TH
When I arrived at the studio today, Mrs. Knight informed me, "You have a tour group coming through. They're from Lourdes Academy, so it'll be a nice group. We won't have to worry about them damaging anything."
I hung out in the lobby next to the video dubbing board. Soon the outside door opened and a group of about a dozen girls from Lourdes came in. They were dressed in the uniform that Kristin used to wear. It's a white blouse with the choice of either a maroon skirt, shorts, or slacks. A heavyset nun in a long gray dress was at the lead.
Mrs. Knight appeared and held out her hand, saying, "You must be Sister Ann." The nun admitted she was. She had a deep, flat voice.
I saw Nina right away. She was in the middle of the pack, talking to another girl. The girl looked familiar, too. Then I remembered where I had seen her—at the makeup counter at Bloomingdale's, getting her colors done. She was the one who stuffed.
Mrs. Knight did her introduction and then brought the group over. Although I had spotted Nina, she apparently had not seen me. When she got close enough, I called over to her, "Hi, Nina."
Nina didn't actually look at me, but she muttered, "Hey, how's it going?"
The girl with her looked at me and made a face, like she had seen something weird. She asked Nina, "Who's that?"
Nina muttered, "That's some chick who works at the West End Mall."
"You're kidding. You shop at the West End Mall?"
"No! My dad has an office there."
It sounded like Nina wanted to drop the subject, but the girl kept on, "So she works for your dad?"
"No, she works at that virtual reality place they got there. Do you remember Kristin? The chick with the bad credit cards? She's Kristin's cousin."
The nun finally interrupted them. She said, "Nina. Lisette. Attention over here, please."
Lisette said, "Yes, Sister Ann."
But they both continued to banter.
Mrs. Knight gave her speech about the expensive equipment. Then she picked up the camera from the video dubbing board and trained it on Sister Ann. She said, "Come on, Sister. State your name and your school,
and then make a brief comment."
Sister Ann growled, "A comment?"
Mrs. Knight pressed the button. "Yes. Anything. Anything at all."
"How about, 'Be quiet, Nina.'"
Mrs. Knight giggled. "No. No. Say something about you."
The nun faced the camera. "I'm Sister Ann. From Lourdes Academy."
Mrs. Knight said, "That's it. Now make a comment."
"And I hate this stuff."
Mrs. Knight laughed appreciatively. "Thank you." Then she turned her camera on Nina. Nina was ready. She made a little speech: "I'm Nina Navarro, and I want to have my own TV talk show, like my homegirl Angela del Fuego."
Mrs. Knight said, "Terrific! Thank you." She taped two more girls, then announced, "Okay. Let's start the studio part of the tour."
Nina asked her, "Will we meet Angela del Fuego?"
"Yes, if you like."
"We would like. And I'd like to get her autograph."
Mrs. Knight told her, "Oh, sorry. Angela doesn't do autographs."
Nina's face fell. "Oh no! Why?"
"She has those long nails. She does what she can to protect them."
Nina nodded sympathetically. "Oh yeah. I can see that. When are we going to meet her?"
"After the studio part of the tour."
Nina said to Lisette, "Cool. This is so cool." But Lisette did not seem at all interested.
I had an idea right after the group took off. I made a copy of Sister Ann's segment and used it to splice in a new tape. I switched Nina's face and Sister Ann's voice. If you looked closely, you could see the blips, but it was still effective.
The Lourdes girls returned. Mrs. Knight arranged them around the video dubbing board for the replays of their tapes. I ran a generic one first, mixing one girl's face with another girl's voice, just so they could get the idea. Then I cued up my special project. Nina's face came up, but Sister Ann's voice came out of her mouth. In that deep growl, she proclaimed, "I'm Nina. And I stuff."
Everyone stared at the screen dumbfounded. Then Lisette started to laugh. In fact, she laughed so hard and so long that she nearly choked. The other girls all got the idea, and they started cracking up, too. Nina looked from me to the screen and back again. I smiled. Nina was shocked at first, but then she gave me the strangest look. It definitely wasn't anger. I think it was respect.
Mrs. Knight needed Sister Ann's help to finally regain order. Then she did her "So you see, seeing is not always believing" line.
Afterward, Mrs. Knight disappeared mysteriously for about thirty seconds. When she returned, she was with Angela del Fuego. Most of the girls regarded Angela with cool curiosity.
Nina once again changed moods with amazing speed. She was ecstatic.
Angela said, "Hello, girls. You are all girls, right?"
Mrs. Knight said, "Right."
"It's great to see you here. Can I answer any questions for anybody?"
None of the girls said anything. It was an awkward moment, but Nina soon rescued it. Her hand shot up, and she practically shouted at Angela, "You got the most beautiful smile."
Angela laughed. "Thanks. So do you."
"Oh, thank you. Are you Cuban?"
"No, sweetie. I'm from L.A."
"Your name, though. Is that Cuban?"
"I don't think so. I just made it up."
Nina was as excited as a little kid. "How could I get started, you know, being like you?"
Angela laughed, but with a trace of worry. She answered, "Well, you could go to Arizona State and major in communications, like I did."
"Then I could have my own show?"
"No. Then you could be a weather girl on a news show."
"Come on! No way! Angela del Fuego was a weather girl?"
"No. But Angela Martinez was—at KTUL in Tulsa, and at WJXX in Jacksonville. Then, one day, she decided she had done her last five-day forecast. She became Angela del Fuego. Now she has her own show, with over two million viewers across Florida and the Southeast."
Angela then turned to Mrs. Knight, who stepped in front of the group and announced, "Okay! We have one final stop on our tour that I know you're going to love!" Angela made a quick exit as Mrs. Knight led the tour off to the video vault.
After she ushered the Lourdes group out of the building, Mrs. Knight came back and told me, "I'm meeting Mr. Herman down at Angela's dressing room. He's getting a makeover for his second audition."
"Oh yeah? What are they going to do?"
"Make him less shiny." Mrs. Knight winked at me. "I think that means he's going to grow some hair."
I knew Mrs. Knight hadn't come back just to chat with me. She quickly got to the point. "Roberta, I was thinking about your arcade at the West End Mall. Isn't that where those hate crimes happened?"
"Yes."
"Have they solved those?"
I thought about Uncle Frank's face in the dark mallway, but I answered, "No."
"Because I was thinking, maybe some of the kids there got too excited about the arcade games and crossed the line. You know—from virtual reality into reality? Is that possible?"
"I guess anything's possible."
"Do you have a lot of really freaky-looking kids there?"
"Yes."
"Hmm. I think there's a show in there somewhere. What do you think?"
"I don't know, Mrs. Knight."
"It could be good experience for you, too. You could prepare the guests with me."
"What's that?"
"Train them to answer clearly, to stay focused on the topic, to look at Angela. That sort of thing."
Mrs. Knight thumbed through her wallet. "Here, let me give you my card. It has my home and work numbers. You think about what I said, okay?"
Mrs. Knight took off, leaving me alone at the video dubbing board. I remained standing there for several minutes, thinking hard, because another idea was forming in my head. A plan. A plan that soon made me gasp out loud. A plan as simple and as stupid as my internship at Channel 57.1 put Mrs. Knight's card in my wallet and left.
I got a burrito and a Coke from the Taco Stop and sat at a sticky table in the food court. After a couple of bites, Betty walked up with a smoothie and sat down. I figured that was a good sign, a sign of truce.
I asked her, "Are you at Candlewycke today?"
"Yeah. Have you heard of anything else?"
"No."
"Me neither. I heard Gepetto's is gonna close."
"Really? When did you hear that?"
"When I went in there for a job."
"Oh." I wondered if they were just trying to get rid of her. I told her, "I saw Nina today at the TV studio."
Betty took a swig of her smoothie. "She is one weird chick."
"How do you mean weird? Weird-looking?"
"No. She's great-looking. Guys follow her all around. She's weird-thinking, weird-acting."
"Like what? What does she do?"
Betty looked around to see if anyone was eavesdropping. "For one thing, she shoplifts. Did you know that?"
I played dumb. "No."
"Yeah. Be careful. Anything she gives you could be hot."
"But she has lots of money."
"I'm sure she does. She has lots of guys, too. But that doesn't stop her."
"God. Do you two hang out a lot?"
"No. She invites me out sometimes. She drives. She pays."
"Why? Why you?"
"I'm not sure. I think I make her feel normal."
We had an exceptionally slow night at Arcane. Kristin and I wound up closing by ourselves. Uncle Frank and Karl just took off. I asked Kristin where they were, and she jumped all over me. "Why shouldn't they take off early for once? They do all the work around here!"
I wasn't about to argue with her, although I do some work, too. We rushed through the closing checklist, then Kristin offered me a ride in the Volkswagen. The car didn't look as bad as before. The back had been hammered out pretty smoothly, though there were some spots with paint missing.
I didn'
t want to risk another flare-up, so I didn't mention Uncle Frank or Karl again. Instead I asked her, "How is Ironman?"
She said, "He's okay. He's evolving. We both are."
She didn't elaborate, so I followed up with, "He's not suicidal anymore?"
"Oh no. Not at all. In fact, he told me he never intended to kill himself. He just went into the trash trailer, like always, and sat down." Kristin turned into Sawgrass Estates. "And then he couldn't think of any reason to get back up."
We pulled in under the carport. Kristin added, "I felt the same way three weeks ago. I couldn't think of any reason to leave my room. Of course, my room wasn't twenty-nine degrees Fahrenheit. Have you ever felt that way?"
I told her, "No."
Kristin stared at the dark kitchen window. "Do you want me to walk in with you?"
"What for?"
"In case there's a bad guy in there. I'd kick his butt for you."
I looked at her with real affection. "I know you would. But there's nobody in there."
Kristin stopped smiling. "That's right. There's nobody in there. But there should be."
SATURDAY, THE 14TH
The ringing telephone woke me up at nine. "Hello. This is Vicki at Sunshine Realty. Is your father there?"
"No, ma'am."
After a delay, she said, "I'm calling because your rent at 10021-lllth Street is now two weeks overdue."
I didn't say anything. She asked me, "How old are you?"
"Sixteen."
"Can you take a message, then?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Tell him he will have to pay the late fee, which is an additional fifty dollars, and it is due immediately. Thank you." The woman hung up.
Not five minutes later, Dad breezed in through the kitchen door. "Hey, honey. How's it going?"
"Dad, the lady called from the realtor's office. You have to pay a late fee on the rent. Fifty dollars."
"Don't worry about that. I'll take care of it. Hey, listen to this! We have our new apartment, and it's right on the beach. It's really cool. You will love it."
I didn't say anything, so he continued, "It's on the third floor, so it's safe. It's got a big parking lot, so we can park the boat and keep an eye on it from the balcony. Did I tell you it has a balcony?"