William Rabkin - A Fatal Frame of Mind

There had to be a way out of this. Shawn was only eleven years old. His life couldn’t be over already. There was so much he hadn’t done yet. He hadn’t even kissed a girl. Not that he felt any sense of loss over that particular nonexperience, but it was only one of a million things he’d been told he’d get to do “when he got older.”

That was back in a more innocent time, when he could peer into the future and see something other than four blank walls and a barred door.

Shawn rolled off his bed and went to the window. Cracking open the blinds, he peered out.

The man in the gray suit was still standing in front of the house. His government-issued sedan was still parked across the street. His jacket still bulged with the outline of his gun. There was no way Shawn could get past him.

And now Shawn’s life was about to get even worse. Because his father’s truck had just turned the corner and was pulling into the garage. In a couple of seconds Henry Spencer would walk to his front steps, and he would stop to talk to the man in the gray suit. If he had been a kind father, a considerate father, a loving father, he would have simply ignored the fact that a federal agent was standing guard over their house until Shawn had had a chance to explain. But Henry was a cop long before he was a dad, and Shawn knew that the law enforcement officer part of him would always take over in moments of crisis.

Shawn watched in mounting horror as Henry walked up to the man in gray, then looked up at his window. Shawn ducked behind his blinds, but not before he saw a look of panic flash over his father’s face.

Shawn stared around the room, praying that a trapdoor or a secret panel or a transporter chamber had materialized since he’d gone to school this morning. But there was no escape route, and he could already hear Henry’s heavy steps pounding up the stairs to his bedroom.

Before Shawn could begin to formulate a plan, his door blasted open and Henry was in the room. But this was a Henry he’d never seen before. Shawn expected his father to be angry. Or furious. Or so filled with rage that his skin was turning green and his muscles bursting out of his clothes.

But this was worse than anything Shawn had ever seen. Henry Spencer looked scared.

“Are you all right, son?” he asked, getting down on one knee and hugging Shawn close.

“I’m fine,” Shawn said, wishing desperately there was some way to ease his father’s fear. “This is really all a big misunderstanding.”

“That’s not how Calderone is going to see it,” Henry said. He gave Shawn one more squeeze, then marched to the closet and pulled out his suitcase.

“I’m just a kid,” Shawn said. “Calderone isn’t going to do anything to me.”

“You’re damn right he’s not,” Henry said. He tossed the suitcase on the bed and started pulling clothes out of Shawn’s dresser. “Because he’s never going to find you.”

“He’s not even looking for me,” Shawn said.

Henry crammed clothes into the suitcase. “As soon as word gets out, he will be,” he said. “And I’ve seen what Calderone does to informants. I’m never going to let that happen to you.”

“Dad, it’s really not a big deal,” Shawn said.

Henry forced the suitcase shut, then got back down on one knee so he could look Shawn in the eye. “I wish that was true, son,” he said. “But you overheard two of Calderone’s lieutenants describing a deal that’s about to do down. That makes you a threat to the biggest drug kingpin in the Northern Hemisphere.”

“I’m not that big a threat,” Shawn said.

“You could take down his whole operation,” Henry said. “And he’ll stop at nothing to make sure you never have the chance. Which is why you have to go with Agent Wenzel.”

Henry took the suitcase off the bed and handed it to Shawn. Then he went to the window and waved at the man in the gray suit, who nodded back at him and headed into the house.

“Go where?” Shawn said.

“I can’t know,” Henry said. “I can never know. Because that way, when Calderone’s men come looking for you, I won’t be able to tell them. No matter what they do to me.”

There was a rap on the door. Henry opened it to reveal the man in the gray suit standing there. “Is he ready?” Agent Wenzel said. “Jet’s waiting.”

“Jet?” Shawn said.

“To take you to your new home,” Henry said, and then his voice cracked. “To your new family. I’m sure they’ll love you every bit as much as I do.”

Henry turned away to hide his tears. Agent Wenzel came into the room and grabbed Shawn’s arm. “Hope you packed for the snow, kid,” he said. “Gets mighty cold where you’re going.”

Agent Wenzel started to drag Shawn out of the room. “Wait!” Shawn shouted. “This is all a mistake!”

Henry couldn’t bring himself to look at his son. “If only it were,” he said. “If only you hadn’t overheard that conversation.”

“I didn’t overhear anything!” Shawn said. “I made it all up!”

There was a moment of silence in the room. Then Shawn felt Wenzel’s grip tighten on his arm. At the same moment, Henry turned back to him, a gleam in his eye.

“Can this actually be true?” he said “If only I could believe it.”

“I left campus to get lunch at BurgerTown,” Shawn said. “I was late getting back to history class, and I forgot we had a test. So instead of taking an F, I told Mrs. Grisby I had used the bathroom in the public library when I went there to study and I couldn’t leave because I overheard two guys making a drug deal and didn’t want them to know I’d seen their faces.”

For a moment, a look of hope passed over Henry’s face. Then it was gone. “That’s a good try, Shawn, but I just can’t believe it,” he said. “Your description of the deal was so precise, you couldn’t have made that up.” He looked up at Agent Wenzel. “Take him away, Agent Wenzel. Take him before I change my mind.”

Wenzel dragged Shawn towards the hall. He grabbed the doorknob and held tight. “I got it all from Miami Vice,” Shawn said. “Don’t you remember? We watched it together last week. That’s why I used it on Mrs. Grisby-it was the first thing that came to mind.”

Henry thought that through. Then he nodded. “You know, son, I think I can believe that.”

“Honestly, I just wanted to get out of failing the test,” Shawn said, a wave of relief rolling through him. “I never thought anyone would take it so seriously they’d call the Feds!”

“One thing you have to understand,” Henry said. “The bigger and more ridiculous the story, the more likely people are to believe it. Because no one could ever imagine you’d make up something so crazy.”

For the first time since he’d seen the government-issue sedan roll up outside their house, Shawn was able to inhale easily. But for some reason, the gray-suited man was still clutching his shoulder.

“So I guess I don’t have to go with this guy and meet my new family, right?” Shawn said, trying to extricate himself from the agent’s grip.

“Oh, no; you do,” Henry said.

“But there is no drug deal,” Shawn said. “There never was.”

“Which is a good thing, because Curtis here wouldn’t do much good if a drug kingpin was really after you,” Henry said. “Shawn, I’d like you to meet Agent Wenzel of the Santa Barbara School Police, Truancy Enforcement Squad. He’s going to take you to your new home.”

“You’re going to like it there,” Wenzel said. “We call it ‘permanent detention.’ ”

The last thing Shawn saw as Agent Wenzel dragged him out of his room was Henry’s face splitting into a broad, wicked grin.