F. Wilson - Secret Circles

“Okay.” That didn‟t seem so hard.

“Oh, and keep a record of your hours there and I‟ll pay you accordingly.”

Jack stared at the keys and couldn‟t help a swell of pride. A big responsibility. But Mr. Rosen must think he was capable enough … and trustworthy enough.

“Will do.” He looked up at his elderly boss. “Don‟t worry. I won‟t let you down.”

He smiled. “If I wasn‟t absolutely sure of that, I‟d simply shut down for the week.”

Jack looked around at the roomful of electronic equipment—rows of black boxes with dials and red and green lights and glowing meters.

“Can I ask what all this is? Are you transmitting to outer space?”

“No, I‟m listening.”

Weezy‟s theory popped into his head. “To aliens?”

He laughed. “To the world.”

“Why?”

His smile faded. “To know what‟s going on. So I won‟t be surprised again. So events can‟t take me unawares as they did back in the day when I assumed everything would work out for the best.”

Jack frowned. “I don‟t under—”

His gaze abruptly shifted past Jack to the window. “Well, well. It appears your call sparked a quick response.”

Jack turned and saw a sheriff‟s department cruiser turning into the Vivino driveway.

“Now he‟ll get it,” Jack said.

The old man shook his head. “Remember what I told you: It will not turn out as you hope.”

5

To Jack‟s dismay, Mr. Rosen was right.

From where he crouched at the window at the end of the trailer‟s front room, Jack watched a deputy he didn‟t recognize knock on the Vivinos‟ front door. Mr. Vivino answered and let him in.

Not even ten minutes later the deputy was back outside and shaking hands with the bastard.

Jack strained to hear what they were saying but could catch only snatches, mostly Mr. Vivino‟s loud voice.

“Sorry you had to come out here for nothing … probably just some crank … guess I have to expect this sort of thing now that I‟m becoming a public figure … maybe a rival for the freeholder job …” He gestured toward Mr. Rosen‟s trailer and seemed to look straight at Jack, who ducked farther back from the window. “Or maybe that old coot next door.”

The deputy said something Jack couldn‟t hear but it seemed to surprise Mr. Vivino. “A boy’s voice? Now who the hell … ?”

His heart sank as he watched the deputy return to his unit and drive away.

To his credit, Mr. Rosen did not say I told you so

Instead Jack heard the echo of the wet smack of Sally‟s father‟s hand against her butt, almost felt its sting, and the anger returned.

Mr. Rosen looked at him and said, “That‟s a fierce look on your punim , young man.”

“Punim?”

Mr. Rosen paused, then gave his head a quick shake. “Sorry. I meant face . I can tuck the old tongue away in the workaday world, but it slips out at home.”

Jack figured if Mr. Rosen could detect a fierce look on his punim , he was giving away too much.

“I‟m just disappointed, is all. Is that the best they can do?”

“I‟m afraid so. And you should think it‟s for the best that you live in a country where they cannot come and drag you away simply because an anonymous caller said you did something wrong.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“Don‟t guess so— know so.” The sudden sharp edge on Mr. Rosen‟s voice took Jack by surprise. “Take it from someone who once lived in such a place.”

“Where?”

He shook his head. “Doesn‟t matter now. It‟s gone. But there are other places like it in the world. Be thankful you live here.”

Jack was thankful, but that didn‟t make him any less frustrated. He couldn‟t bear to think of Sally having to go on living like that day after day. If her big brother were here, he‟d do something—maybe take a licking defending her, but he wouldn‟t have stood by and watched.

Tony, however, was gone.

But Jack wasn‟t.

He had to do something, had to find a way to bring down Mr. Aldo Vivino. The nerve of the bastard, dragging his daughter around from house to house trying to cadge votes by pretending he was the wonderful family man and loving father. Time to let the world see who he really was.

Jack had tried going through proper channels with no results. Time to try another way.

Jack‟s way.

6

After dinner, Jack, Eddie, and Weezy rode up to the circus. He found it hard riding past the Vivino house. He got steamed again thinking about what he‟d seen.

When they reached

the muddy lot, Jack tried to put Sally out of his head and enjoy the show. Wasn‟t easy.

Especially with flyers about the missing Cody all over the place.

Sally … Cody … was it just him, or was the world becoming a darker place? He didn‟t

make much progress with his Sally rage until he reached the shooting gallery. The rifles were air-powered and shot pellets instead of bullets, but they fired and that was what counted. He pretended the targets were Mr. Vivino and it took him five magazines before he scored enough hits to feel some relief. If he‟d had his own BB gun growing up, he might have scored better, but he‟d suffered through a gunless childhood.

“Let‟s hit the sideshow,” Eddie said. “They‟ve got some freaks and stuff.”

Jack had never understood the attraction of staring at deformed people, but he did want to see the motorcycle show.

“Hey, Weezy.”

Jack turned and saw Carson Toliver approaching.

Swell.

Toliver, a muscular, tanned senior with blond surfer hair, was top dog at South Burlington County Regional High School—captain and quarterback of the Burlington Badgers and last year‟s high scorer on the basketball team. Girls went gaga over the guy. Weezy was no exception.

“Hi, Carson,” she said, a giggle edging into her voice.

For some reason he seemed interested in Weezy, and any contact with him seemed to soften her brain. Jack could almost hear her IQ dropping as she gazed at him.

Toliver pointed down the midway. “C‟mon. I want to show you something.”

“Okay.”

Jack wanted to say that the three of them had always done the circus together, but bit it back.

She caught him looking at her.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he said. “We‟ll catch up to you later.”

“Okay. You two have fun.”

Jeez, it was like he‟d just turned into a little brother.

He watched her and Toliver walk away for a few seconds, then turned to Eddie. “Let‟s do the bumper cars. I feel like crashing into something.”

As they waited on line, a guy with a camera came up to them. He had signs pinned front and back on his sweatshirt.

Instant Home Movies!

Only $10!

“You kids want movies of you in the bumper cars?” “We don‟t have a projector,” Eddie said.

The guy laughed. “You don‟t need one. Got a VHS player?” “Sure.”

He patted the camera. “This baby records straight to a videotape. You just take

it home and plug it into your VCR. Instant home movies! It‟s the latest thing!” He looked around. “Where are your folks?”

“Home,” Jack said.

The guy frowned. “Got ten bucks?”

Jack shook his head. “Not for a film of me and him.”

With an immediate loss of interest, the guy moved on to greener pastures.

Instant home movies, Jack thought. What‟ll they think of next?

The idea stayed with him through the bumper car ride where he slammed into everyone in sight, and followed him to the end of the midway where they came upon the traditional game of swinging a mallet and trying to ring a bell atop a board.