Ashley stands and closes the lid over the keys. Takes a deep breath and exhales through her nose. Shrugs.
“I dunno, Mom. I just play whatever comes out.”
“Alright, well, dinner’s gonna have to be pizza tonight – I won’t have time to prepare anything before I have to leave again.”
“What? What time is it?” Ashley frowns.
“It’s six fifteen,” says her mother. “I had to work late at H&R – and I have to leave in ten minutes for the night shift at Mo’s. You’ll just have to fend for yourself tonight. Here’s some cash for the pizza guy.” She drops a twenty on the piano and kisses Ashley on the head. “See you sweetie.”
Six fifteen? Already?
Ashley runs up to her room and slams the door, jumps on her bed and pulls out her laptop.
“C’mon, c’mon, boot up already!”
She pulls up the chat room and logs in.
No Tanner89 in the room.
“Crap!”
DING –
Tanner89 is ONLINE.
“Yes!” She pumps her fist and then types furiously.
Ashes2Ashes: Tanner89, I’m sorry I was late.
Tanner89: No prob – I’m late 2. Hold on.
A message appears in a small dialog box on the screen:
Tanner89 is requesting a private chat. YES / NO.
Ashley clicks “yes” and a new window opens with just Tanner89 and Ashes2Ashes in the room.
Tanner89: Good, now let’s get down 2 business. 1st things 1st. Do you have a credit card?
Ashes2Ashes: No, but I have a PayPal that withdraws straight from my checking. Will that work?
Tanner89: Perfect. Tell me about your problem.
Ashley freezes. She’s never told anyone but LazyDazy about what happened. And she doesn’t want to relive it now. But she has to make a case, she supposes, so she gives the highlights.
Tanner89: Still there?
Ashes2Ashes: Yes, sorry. Here’s the deal. I gotta major jerk that needs to go away. He wants 2 hurt me. Always watching me. Knows where I live.
Tanner89: I take it you know where he lives 2.
Ashes2Ashes: Yes. I can give you whatever information you need about him.
Tanner89: Let’s start with the basics – name, address, what he does for a living, a description – a photo if U can get 1. I’ll need you 2 email that 2 me. Just send it all in an email.
Ashes2Ashes: Ok. What’s your email?
Tanner89: Just send it 2
[email protected] Ashes2Ashes: Ok. Weird email. That yours?
Tanner89: No. Just send it there. And include your PayPal info, too.
Ashes2Ashes: Ok. Then what happens? How long do I have 2 wait?
Tanner89: Don’t wait. Just do it now.
Ashes2Ashes: No, I mean how long after I send it do I have to wait 4
She stops typing, trying to figure out what exactly it is she’ll be waiting for.
Tanner89: 4 . . .
Ashes2Ashes: 4 the job 2 be done.
Tanner89: I’ll need 2 check with my guy – depends what approach he takes. What’s your zip code?
Ashes2Ashes: 97498
Tanner89: Hold on.
The cursor flashes for five seconds.
Tanner89: Oregon coast?
Ashes2Ashes: Yes.
Tanner89: Depending what he does, you could see satisfaction by Thursday night.
Ashes2Ashes: Ok. Thanks. How much is this going 2 cost, anyway?
Tanner89: I won’t know until it’s done. Have 2 figure the expenses into it. I’ll let you know in an email Friday morning.
BLIP BLIP –
Tanner89 is OFFLINE.
Ashley logs off and closes the laptop lid, her hands shaking. She sighs a jagged sigh, feeling a weird mixture of relief and apprehension.
Maybe even excitement. She lets a nervous smile cross her face.
What am I getting myself into?
#
Ashley Ziplocks the leftover pizza for Mom and puts it in the fridge. She heads upstairs and pulls on her sweats and t-shirt for bed, thinking she may be able to sleep for a change, just knowing that something is going to be done to help her.
But first she pulls out her new mp3 player and hooks it up to her laptop to download all her music to the player and program some play lists. She grabs the USB to plug it in.
DING –
Tanner89 is ONLINE.
Tanner89 is requesting a private chat. YES / NO.
Ashley clicks “yes” and enters her own private shady back alley of cyberspace.
Ashes2Ashes: I’m here.
Tanner89: I got your email with the info. I had 2 charge your account for some set up fees – upfront costs. It maxed it out pretty fast. You don’t have enough in your acct. Got a credit card you can borrow?
Ashley cringes. Maybe it was a bad time to buy the mp3 player.
But she can’t let this fall apart now.
Ashes2Ashes: Hang on – I’ll be right back.
She busts out of her room and down the hall to her mother’s room. Mom’s still not home from Mo’s – must be a busy night. Ashley opens her mother’s underwear drawer and digs to the back.
The secret emergency-only credit card. Gotta love having a well-prepared accountant for a mother. Just better hope she doesn’t notice the charge. Ashley tells herself she’ll cross that bridge when she comes to it.
She dashes back to her room.
Ashes2Ashes: Visa 4441712110902311.
Tanner89: Expiration date?
Ashes2Ashes: 10/08. That’s this month – is that okay?
Tanner89: Yes, we’ll just have 2 make sure we’re done with the job by this Friday. Halloween.
Ashes2Ashes: Ok. Do U need anything else?
Tanner89: Yes. I need you 2 tell me what kind of computer he uses – Mac or PC.
Ashley gulps.
Ashes2Ashes: Why? And how am I supposed 2 know that?
Tanner89: Cuz we need 2 know what we’re hacking into. It’s part of our method. You find it out by looking. Just go into his store like any other customer, and take a look what he’s using.
Ashley starts sweating as she considers going anywhere near Jonas Silage or his store.
Tanner89: We’ll need that as soon as you can get it. We can’t do anything without it.
- BLIP BLIP -
Tanner89 is OFFLINE.
Ashley stares at the screen.
This is not what she bargained for.
#
All day at school the next day Ashley tries to plan her incursion into the realm of Jonas Silage. Each time she tries to figure out a way to get in and out of his store undetected, she pictures his face and it makes her nauseous.
Thin strands of greasy black hair protruding from his patchy mottled scalp.
Grotesque tattoos depicting nude women and symbols of death across his forearms.
Black and white stubble growing on his flabby jowels.
Dead eyes like coal.
The little wet spot on his upper lip that is either snot or sweat or who knows what.
And the smell of stale cigars and dead meat that follows him around.
It’s a wonder he can run a business when he’s so personally off-putting. People must allow him his eccentricities on account of his incredible collection of rare antiques. Ashley thinks they’re all ugly and disturbing, but the tourists and some locals rave about them.
Ashley tries to avoid having to do this task herself, but she decides she can’t ask anyone else to do it – she really doesn’t know anyone well enough to ask the favor – it’s pretty out of the way for most of the kids here – and she may end up having to explain herself, and she definitely is not going to confide any of this in any of these people.
She finally decides how to go about her plan as she steps aboard the bus to go home.
#
As she walks past Silage Antiques, she can once
again feel his black eyes on her from across the street. She keeps walking until she’s out of sight.
Then she crosses back over to his side of the street and moves to within thirty yards of the side of the building that has no windows. She sits beside the fence between the properties and watches.
After five minutes a car pulls up and a couple enters the shop.
Tourists.
Another ten minutes later an old man on a bicycle with a handlebar basket rides up and leans his bike against the side of the shop and goes in.
Mr. Guthrie.
One more and I’ll do it. I just need enough people for him to be distracted for a minute.
One minute later, a woman in a pickup shows up and goes inside.
Ashley jumps into action, fighting her fear every step of the way. She’s about ten yards from the front door when it opens.
Silage.
Ashley spins a one-eighty on the spot and closes her eyes like an ostrich sticking its head in the sand, hoping beyond reason that she can turn invisible.
Silage leads out of the door and the pickup truck woman follows him. They’re facing down the street the other way. He leads Pickup Woman around to the other side of the shop where he stores some of his larger, outdoor items.
They round the corner as Ashley turns back and sees them disappear.
As she races to the front door to slip inside, a part of her mind flashes upon an image of the pickup truck woman and Silage engaged in a struggle, the woman pinned, screaming silently.
Don’t be an idiot - he’s not gonna do anything like that in broad daylight, with customers around.
Inside, she immediately seeks out his computer. The other customers are buried in the antiques that stretch back into several other rooms in the dim, low-ceilinged place.
She moves to the obvious location – the cash register – but it’s just an old-fashioned machine – no computer.
She looks behind the counter and through a beaded doorway she sees it – a laptop bag sitting on a chair.
She gingerly parts the beads and steps into the private room, crosses to the chair and unzips the bag.
Mac.
She zips it up and heads for the beads. The front door strikes the hanging bell as it opens.
Her heart leaps into her throat and she can’t breathe.
In comes Silage, who eyes her sideways as he holds the door for Pickup Woman.
Ashley is frozen in place. Silage politely concludes his business with Pickup Woman and the tourist couple leaves at the same time, buying nothing.
Mr. Guthrie is still in the store somewhere, but he’s deaf as a doornail and would probably not even hear her scream.
Silage parts the beads, his mouth twisted into a sickly smile.
“Why, hello, Ashley,” he croaks. “To what do I owe this – pleasure.” The final word sounds wet, and isn’t spoken as a question.
“Silage!”
Silage doesn’t turn.
“Silage! You as deaf as me, boy?”
Silage keeps his soulless eyes on Ashley as long as possible as he slowly turns to answer Guthrie, who stands at the counter.
“I heard you old man,” he says extra loud. “Can’t you see I’m entertaining company?”
Ashley takes this moment to make her move and scoots past Silage out into the main room, brushing against his elbow as she bounces off the beaded doorway.
“Heh,” says Guthrie. “Looks like your company is just leaving.”
Ashley passes Guthrie and gives him a quick, forced smile then pulls the front door open with a clang and flees into the chill air.
She feels Silage’s eyes on her all the way up the street, and feels his elbow on her until she can shower it off.
#
- DING -
LazyDazy is ONLINE.
Ashley is still fighting back the nausea from having been so close to the embodiment of her nightmare. The shower helped, as did the hour of furious, ecstatic, deliciously angry piano playing. When she was done, she was actually sweating and had to shower again.
Now she sits on her bed, her blanket over her lap.
Ashes2Ashes: Hey girl.
LazyDazy: What happened with Tanner?
Ashes2Ashes: He cleaned me out and made me go see Silage.
LazyDazy: Sounds like that expensive aversion therapy my mother did last year. Ew.
Ashes2Ashes: No, it’s not like that. I just had 2 do something really creepy. But I got it done, and now Tanner or his guy or whatever should be able 2 get 2 work on JS.
LazyDazy: Hang in there. It’s almost over. BTW, it’s not Tanner doing anything, he’s just a middle man – he calls himself a broker.
Ashes2Ashes: Either way, as long as they know what they’re doing.
LazyDazy: Trust me, Ash. I know what they can do. His guy really helped my friend Suze last year. Had a creep following her around.
Ashes2Ashes: What happened?
LazyDazy: Now he doesn’t follow anyone around. They tried 2 scare him, reason with him, threaten him. Nothing worked. So they broke his legs.
Ashes2Ashes: That’s horrible! :(
LazyDazy: They did what it took. Nobody screws with Suze anymore, I’ll tell U that.
Ashes2Ashes: Well, I don’t know how I feel about anyone getting hurt. But the guy is dangerous, so I just don’t know. Hopefully the scaring will work.
LazyDazy: Got 2go2 sleep – it’s late here. Sleep well 2nite, girl. U deserve it.
Ashes2Ashes: I’ll try. Goodnight.
BLIP BLIP –
LazyDazy is OFFLINE.
Ashley sits back against her pillows.
Broken legs? She hopes it doesn’t come to that.
#
Ashley sits at the dinner table in front of her laptop the next evening. All day long she found herself unable to concentrate, and now has a pile of homework to get through.
“I wish you wouldn’t do that during dinner,” her mother says. “We hardly see each other as it is.”
Ashley closes the laptop. “Sorry, Mom. I’m just swamped right now.”
“Well, you can spare ten minutes. Tell me about your day.”
“Not much to tell. Just the same old same old. How about you?”
“Actually, I had a pretty weird one today. Which reminds me, are you up to date on your antivirus protection? You wouldn’t believe the things hackers are doing these days. Had the antique dealer in today to see if we had backups of his business records. We did his taxes last year, so we were able to help him. But he had had his entire system penetrated. All his inventory files, finances – everything – totally screwed with. Mostly deleted, but some stuff just messed with. Total mess.”
Ashley looks down at her pot pie and jabs a piece of crust with her fork.
“Did you hear me, Ash? You need to make sure your computer is secure – it can happen to anybody.”
“Yeah, I know, Mom. Can I go finish my homework now?”
“Go for it. I have to leave for Mo’s in twenty minutes. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
#
DING –
Tanner89 is ONLINE.
Tanner89 is requesting a private chat. YES / NO.
Ashley pulls her curtains across her bedroom window, sits on the bed and clicks “yes.”
Tanner89: Ok, here’s what we’ve done so far. We wiped out his finances and business records, and left a pop up window that opens every two minutes that says “LEAVE YACHATS.”
Ashes2Ashes: Well, he got his financial records back and he hasn’t left town. So, have I just been ripped off?
Tanner89: Patience. We’re just getting started. My guy is already on his way 2 Oregon. Have no fear. This is a multi-phase operation. My guy always gets the job done.
Ashes2Ashes: Or my money back?
Tanner89: There are no guarantees. 2 unpredictable a business. Just relax and hang in there.
Ashes2Ashes: People keep telling me t
hat.
BLIP BLIP –
Tanner89 is OFFLINE.
Ashley climbs into bed, wondering what phase two entails.
#
As Ashley passes Silage Antiques on her way home from school the next day, she actually stops in her tracks, jaw dropping.
The front window is laying in a thousand pieces on the ground out front. Red spray paint across the dirty white siding says “LEAVE YACHATS” in three-foot letters.
Sheriff Silage, Jonas’ younger brother and the reason Ashley could never approach the police about her problems with Jonas, stands in the doorway talking to Jonas, his patrol car parked at an odd angle in the tiny front lot.
The sight of the cop car gives her a pang of guilt. She doesn’t feel bad about Silage, but the vivid image of cops and crime and real world implications suddenly makes the conscious connection between her own actions and the law.
She is a criminal now.
Silage is laughing with his brother now, his stained, crooked teeth showing between his cracked lips and through his ragged beard.
Laughing.
Ashley doubts that Silage will be leaving Yachats any time soon.
#
DING –
Tanner89 is ONLINE.
Tanner89 is requesting a private chat. YES / NO.
Ashley pushes her dinner over to her mother’s empty place at the table and clicks “yes.”
Tanner89: I told you we mean business. You like what you saw 2day?
Ashes2Ashes: Yeah, that was great. NOT. You did a nice number on his shop, but he’s not going anywhere. He just doesn’t seem the type 2 scare easily.
Tanner89: We’ve got more tricks. My man is still in your area. He’s got a surprise in store for 2night. Just wait.
BLIP BLIP –
Tanner89 is OFFLINE.
Ashley closes the laptop and closes her eyes. This is getting out of hand.
#
Ashley walks to catch the morning bus.