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ANGIE
Jim continued. He spoke each word slowly, like it hurt to push them out.
"I found out later that it was all lies, and I was the dork who believed it. I've been helping him s-steal stuff for weeks now." He turned to look out the tiny window.
"I was just doing it to make some extra cash, y'know? To buy nice stuff for my girl. I think maybe...I always knew it was shady. I just wanted it to be okay for so long." His voice trailed off. "How did I g-get into this."
I looked at the back of his head, thinking. He's not much older than us, I guess. I just felt like he was older, because he's a grad student and has a car. But that's no excuse. This is the truth? This is what he's been hiding?
I sat back down on the chair, and sighed. The rickety seat rolled a few inches to the left. The wheels were definitely broken. A garbage chair in a garbage office with a garbage big brother. No wonder Lynn is so messed up. This is what she has to look up to. I made a few more notes, then put down my pen and tapped his shoulder.
He turned around, and I spoke. "I think I understand. But that was supposed to be the easy question, so now here's the hard one. Who beat you up?"
Jim looked like he had been tossed around all over again. His face looked sallow and he could barely sit up in his chair. He mumbled, "You are horrible. Why are you making me go through all of this? Why should I tell you anything else?"
I sighed. "You know why. You've been lying to your sister. Do you understand that she needs you? You are also apparently lying to your girlfriend, who is a nice person and doesn't deserve someone like you. And now, just when I came to you and asked for the truth, you are still lying about it. Give it up. You need this."
Lynn needs to hear this too. Later, maybe.
Jim sighed, and the truth spilled out.
The day after the robbery, he said, he went to the music library. The secretary was chatty, but she didn't want to let him go into the listening room, since there wasn't anything to listen to. The campus police had been there already, and she was annoyed about being bothered again. So he made up an excuse about leaving his favorite pen there last week, and it worked. She let him in and even helped him crawl around the floor.
Stuck under the door to the music library room, he had found a matchbook. It was sheer luck that he had found it, he had been feeling with his fingers under the frame and got a splinter, which was almost healed (he showed me the injury. Was he looking for sympathy?). On the wild thought that the person who had stolen it was using the matchbook, and since it was for one of the few bars in town, he thought he should check it out. The day before last, he had finally found time to go to the Dirty Socks to look around. A big guy jumped him, beat him up, and threw him into the alley.
I looked up from my note-taking. "Hmmm. Well, that's interesting. A big guy, yeah? Did you know him?"
"No." He looked thoughtful, distracted from his own behavior for a moment just to answer my question. "It was two of them, actually. Also, I'm pretty sure they were in a glam band. Y'know, leather pants and lots of hairspray."
His voice took on a whimper. "I mean, I was just sitting at the bar! Aren't I allowed to just sit? The bartender was friendly, so I flirted and asked her a few questions. Okay, I mentioned the music collection, and asked if she'd heard anything about it. Yeah, mebbe I also asked if she'd seen anyone acting or talking suspiciously."
He was crazy. All of this to keep his job with Aburra? "What did the bartender say to you?"
"Nothing! She just asked me if I wanted a drink, and I said no. But then when I got up to go to the men's room, this guy followed me, and him and his friend knocked me around a bit. I didn't deserve that, am I right?"
But I had stopped listening to him. I was looking at my notes, and thinking.
"Why would someone from the band be involved in this? I mean, I assume it's the Flamingos, since they've been playing at the bar for the past week."
"Uh...I dunno. Mebbe they didn't like me hanging out at their bar and not buying drinks."
"Hmmm. Let me think."
I drew a circle around the words 'Music' and 'Band' in my notes, and drew a line between them. Then I started drawing other lines, off of the word 'Band', randomly. What did they want? Why was the band involved? I added notes to each line, making lollipops out of each. First "guitarist" and then, "record deal" coming out of "Band". Then I added more lines to the 'Music' circle, lollipops for 'school' and 'money' and 'Jim' and 'Aburra'.
I tapped my finger on the word 'school'; Hmm. I can add a little more to this. I added, 'Class' to the 'Music' list, since our class is affected by the robbery. Also the students (I added my name). Then I did a trick I'd done before, when trying to solve a really hard problem. I closed my eyes for five seconds, then opened them again to look at the lollypop map I had made. The word, 'school' popped out at me, then, for some reason, the word, 'guitarist'. Why would that match up? Then I remembered. Mr. Lee! Mr. Lee is affected by the stolen music, because we can't have class! Mr. Lee used to be in that band, and they want their old guitarist back! I wrote 'Mr. Lee' and drew a line connecting "Music' to 'Mr. Lee' to 'Band'. Then I circled Mr. Lee's name three times.
I leaned back and looked at my work. That's got to be it. Something about Mr. Lee is connecting them both...but what?
I looked at Jim. He had been quiet while I wrote, and now I said, "I may have an idea."
"Yeah? Something that will help me solve my problem?"
"Yes." Then I shook my head. "Uh, I mean no. Well, maybe. Something about the stolen music."
I stood up, and picked up a piece of chalk from the chalkboard that covered the wall behind the closed doorway. "I think the reason the band jumped you is because they want their guitarist back, and you were threatening them."
"What, what does that mean? I didn't!"
I faced him. Even now, after his confession, he looked more scared than before. Like my little brother Thomas when he's waiting for his punishment. I took a deep breath, and sighed. "Okay, I'll explain." I started redrawing the map on the board.
"Well, first you have to understand that Mr. Lee, our music teacher, used to be the guitarist for the band. The Flamingos, I mean. The band that was playing at the club. He left the band,"
"Wha.. Marty Lee isn't with The Flamingos anymore?" he interrupted.
"Yes," I continued as if he hadn't spoken. "And they are pretty upset about it. So I think," I connected several lines at once now, crisscrossing the board and kicking up some chalk dust, which went up my nose and made me want to sneeze.
"I think that they stole the music to force him to leave the school, so that he would come back to the band, record with them, then join them on tour."
"Wha...that's ridiculous! That wouldn't even work because..." his voice trailed off. "I mean, maybe it would work. But it's not a good idea."
"I'm not saying it's a good idea, I mean, I wouldn't do it." I sat down again, to re-examine my handiwork. "But I'm just saying it makes sense. Why would the band beat you up, unless they didn't want you to find the stolen music? Why would they steal the music, if not to get their guitarist back?"
"I don't know, maybe they didn't like my face! I get beat up sometimes. Or maybe, well what if they thought I was trying to...trying to...steal their latest song material!" He folded his arms. "Yeah, how do you like THAT?" He nodded.
"No," I said, considering my notes. "Your explanation doesn't make sense. Mine does. They are just like a bird protecting their young, they attacked when you got too close to the nest." He had stood up and was leaning over my shoulder and breathing on my neck, so I waved him back. "This could be everything, it explains it all. Lynn will want to know this. We should tell her right away."
Jim had sat back down, and now looked at me with his head askew. "Um, I thought you guys weren't friends anymore?"
"Well of course, I'm mad at her right now." I shook my head, and added, "But I really wish we WERE talking, because if I was I would want her to know about this right away. She's been working hard at trying to figure out what's going on around here, and now that we know I guess I hoped that you'd want to tell her. You do care about her, right?"
He looked sheepish.
"She really was worried about you last night, about what happened to you, and if you were safe. I mean, you know her, right? What she's like? She's got her teeth stuck in this one tight and I don't see her letting go. Being her brother, and all, I thought you would care, even just a little."
Jim sat up a little straighter, and clenched his fist. "Yeah, I know her. Which is precisely why I didn't want her sticking her nose in my business. That's why I didn't tell her any of this." He stood up. "If she finds out, she'll find out everything. She'll ask me about everything, she'll want to be a part of everything. She'll be all over me, all the time. She'll need me again. I was sick of it at home. And now she's here all up in my face, every day. I'm a grown-up and I should be able to have my own life. I want my own LIFE!!!!", he shouted, startling me for just a second. The snake has struck.
Then I recovered. I shouted back, making him jump. "Oh yeah, well how much of a life is it without your family?! Family should be EVERYTHING!" I pounded my fist on the desk and again, sent another group of papers flying. "What's wrong with you people? Don't you care about each other at all?"
He just stared at me, with his mouth hanging open, and not reacting. I stood up once more. "I'm outta here. Maybe I never should have come by. You and Lynn, you both drive me up the wall." I reached for the doorknob. "Maybe I'll tell Lynn. Maybe I won't. It's none of YOUR business, since according to you, she isn't part of your life, anyway."
I grabbed my bag, roughly shoved my notes into an open pocket, yanked open the door, and quickly left.
I found myself running down the staircase as fast as I could, bumping my bookbag against the railing and likely destroying my looseleaf in the process. I let out the last of my anger on the metal door at the bottom of the staircase, banging it open.
Lynn. Lynn should know about this. Yes, she's been an idiot, but she still should know.
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