Evil wears a red tie

Chapter two

People started showing up around six. First it was the usual suspects. Freddy Carmichael, the class clown and all his never-to-do-well mates, Louisa Hirshel and her boyfriend Dermot, some guys from the local football team and, as Summer had promised, Jonah Villiami, the assistant coach from the junior rugby-league team. I couldn’t deny it; he was very cute. Built like a God with curly, dark hair and chocolate-coloured eyes that could make a girl melt. He was from New Zealand originally, having come here when he was a teenager so his dad could have a better job in steel-work. I’d be an i***t not to be interested. Sure, he was good-looking, but that wasn’t all of it. He was just so…so good. There was something so unapologetically sweet about him, it made me guilty when I thought badly of anyone.

As soon as Jonah walked through the door, Summer was on a mission. Looking back into her living room, she forced us all to stand up and switch seats. Rose, Freddy and Nigel Hall were crammed onto a love-seat, Lena had a lazy-boy to herself and Louisa was pushed onto Dermot’s lap so I could have one half of the love-seat. And guess who had the other half? I could’ve groaned at her not-so-subtle attempts…if they hadn’t worked. But alas, me and Jonah shared a rather cozy seat by the window, much to her s**t-eating pleasure.

“So, how are things going at the library?” He asked me, gingerly nursing a can of lemonade.

“Good! My manager, Rhona, thinks I’ll soon be ready to head my own reading program.”

“That’s great! They must trust you a lot, to let you do that.” He smiled, so endearingly. “So, what goes into planning a reading program?”

“Well, to start with, you need to know what you want to target it towards.” I explained, albeit with difficulty, since I was already on my third drink. “I want to work with eleven to thirteen year-olds, boys and girls.”

“Why them? Why not little kids or older teens?”

“Because…because it’s that age where reading isn’t cool anymore.” I explained, taking another sip, then going on. “It’s when kids start thinking that their friends won’t like them if they’re reading all the time, or that if you like going to the library, then that makes you an anti-social loser. I want to break that stim-stic-stigma! I want kids to know that reading isn’t a bad thing. Does that make me sound stiff? Like a PSA ad?”

“No! It sounds great actually. I used to love reading when I was a kid. Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, but then, when I was about twelve, my friends told me it was gay, so I stopped. New books came out, new series I knew I would’ve loved, but I didn’t want my friends to hate me. I was sick of them calling me a queer and a p***y, so I gave up. Does that make me bad?”

“No!” Jonah could never be bad to me. Not even if he passed up a hundred books. “It makes you a human-being. That’s what I want to work towards. I want kids to feel it’s okay to like reading, and that there are other kids who like it too. It only has to be antisocial if you let it.”

“That’s pretty far-out.” He smiled beside me. Such a nice smile. “I really like how you care so much about libraries, I mean. They’re pretty important, but nobody really cares like you do.”

I hoped he wasn’t staring, because my face was probably the same colour as my hair.

“Enough about me! Anything new with your little league team?”

“Not much to report. We’re getting them ready for a game next Sunday. They’ll nail it. They’ve been working really hard on their practice drills, so I’m confident they’ll win.”

“Well, you can count on us to cheer them on.” I said, “the team’s really improved since you and Mr. Reid took over coaching.”

“Ah, you’re just being nice.” Now it was his turn to blush, “we didn’t do much with them. Nothing different than what the old coaches did.”

“They like you, Jonah. And they listen to you. When kids have a role-model they like, they’ll want to listen and learn from them. That’s what makes a good teacher.”

I would’ve liked it if we could finish our semi-private conversation, but the party around us demanded our attention. A couple of pretty, giggling girls whisked Jonah away to dance and Summer dragged me over to the table for a game of cards against humanity. Every loser of each round had to take a drink as punishment. This ended with a lot of tiddly contenders and a very clumsy game of uno that commenced afterward. At that point, I was a little too tipsy to participate. So, with liquid luck clearly affecting my judgement, I got up to dance. 

I danced with Rose. She, of course, commanded as much attention as she could have. Swaying and wiggling to the beat that pulsed through the stereo-system. She looked amazing like that, almost unreal. In a sparkly, magenta romper and silver stilettos, she owned her confidence and flaunted it for all she could. I wanted so much to be like her. To quietly accept my flaws and speak my virtues for the whole world to hear. Was Rose ever afraid of anything? It never seemed like it. Not commanding teachers, not sky-diving from a helicopter, not even letting a python rest around her neck. 

“Feeling better?” She shouted over the music.

“Loads!” I answered, “it gets better with every sip.”

“You’re gonna have to go back eventually though.” She reminded me, twirling on the spot. “What will you do then?”

“I’m thinking of moving out. Why shouldn’t I? I’ve got a good job, I can afford a flat. Besides, I don’t know if I can keep staying around Mum and Cassandra if they’re going to treat me like free house-keeping.”

“That sounds good Marie, but will you actually do it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean the wicked b***h of the west has got some bullshit spell over you. Every time we’ve talked to you about moving out before, she finds a reason for you to stay. She’ll be lonely, your dad needs you, Cassandra can’t handle these family commitments alone! It’s always something she’ll use to guilt-trip you, and you buy into it!”

“Not this time, Rose! I swear, I don’t want to go back this time. What excuse could she possibly use now? She’s lonely? Well, she’s never liked my company. Dad needs me? Dad needs twenty-nine years worth of therapy first! Cassandra can’t handle things? She’s never worked for anything in her life. I’m nothing but free labour to her and I’m sick of it. I want to be brave Rose, like you are. I want to be free.”

“I’m not brave, Marie. Not really.” Her voice was quiet all of a sudden. I had to read her lips to make it out. “I say and I do stupid stuff. I don’t think it means I’m brave though. I get scared.”

“Scared of what? The dentist?”

Rose wasn’t smiling anymore. Startled, I pulled her over to the other side of the lounge. We sat on the ground, our backs resting against the wall so we could take a breather. This was strange. Rose was carefree, almost all of the time. The only times I’d seen her drop that attitude was when she had her braces put on, and when her gran died. Seeing her like this again was worrying.

“Marie, have you been hearing those stories about people being taken away? Like, one moment they’re here, doing the same things they always do, and the next, they disappear? Nobody ever knows where they go and nobody hears from them.”

“Rose, you don’t honestly think that’s real, do you? They’re probably stupid stories, made up to scare us into submission.”

“That’s what I thought-until Summer told me about Terry. She’s convinced he’s with their mum, but come on! Terry was always responsible. Far more responsible than anyone else his age. If he was going somewhere, he would’ve told Summer. He would’ve told her in person, rather than leave a note. But no! He didn’t even do that. He never said anything about going out of town-he didn’t even take any clothes with him. You’ve got to admit, that’s weird!”

She was right. I didn’t want to think too much about it because if Summer wasn’t too worried, we shouldn’t be either. But the more she honed in on those important details, the more I couldn’t help thinking about it. Terry wasn’t the kind of guy to just up and leave without an explanation. Even if he and Summer had a fight, he wouldn’t have just taken off. He would’ve called her at least, or more likely, talked face-to-face to resolve things. And not taking anything with him? He would’ve had to at least take some things to his mum’s place. Taking nothing at all was pointless.

I didn’t want to dwell on it, but Rose was right. People were starting to disappear without warning. And the most disturbing part of it was that nobody seemed to really care. Whenever older people talked about it, my mother’s friends mainly, they would say things like ‘Good riddance!’ and ‘maybe they’ve found something useful to do with their time’. How could they be so insensitive? Those people had lives, jobs, and families who cared about them. It wasn’t as if they were wasting anything. I couldn’t understand it. When people went missing on TV, everybody kicked up a fuss. Police searches, neighbourhood watches, private investigators were hired until either the person was found, or the case was solved. So why show less care to those who suddenly fly off the radar?

“Marie!” Jonah was back, a bit tipsier than before. Those giggling girls must’ve plied him with more beer. “Come and dance with me!”

‘You don’t own me’ was floating through the speakers as Jonah led me to the centre of the room. Putting his large hands on my waist, we began to sway to the beat. Maybe it was the multicoloured lights, maybe it was the vapour of alcohol, or maybe it was just Jonah himself, but at that moment, I felt really magical. Like I could float up to the ceiling if he wasn’t holding onto me. Grounding me.

“Marianne.” I shivered. He’d never called me by my full name before. Somehow, I liked it. A lot. “I think…I think you’re amazing.”

“I think you’re amazing too, Jonah.” I replied, stepping closer. This was the moment: it had to be. Me and Jonah. Jonah and me. This amazing, sweet, dedicated guy who really deserved someone better than me. But he wasn’t dancing with anyone else, was he? He asked to dance with me, he was looking at me, he thought I was amazing. If there was ever going to be a moment, it was now.

“Stay where you are!”

That wasn’t a sound or sentence I was expecting to hear at that moment. I looked away from Jonah to determine where that voice was coming from. I was shocked. More than shocked. I thought I had stepped into a parallel universe where we were all suddenly surrounded by a flood of police officers, holding guns and tasers in every direction. I didn’t understand; if the neighbours had called noise control, surely they wouldn’t have felt the need to bring weapons. We weren’t going to fight them because our music was cranked up too loud. 

“Gentlemen, I think you’ve got the wrong house.” Summer went outside, trying to pacify them. “If we were being too noisy, all the neighbours had to do was ask and I’d turn it down-”

“We said, stay where you are.” One of the officers snarled in her face. What in the hell was his problem?! “Or do we have to use force?”

“Not at all, officer.” Summer stepped back inside, allowing the sneering man to come in. “How can we help you?”

“You can start by asking your guests to comply with our commands.” He said, not even looking at her. “Everyone in this premises is under arrest. By order of parliament, you are required to accompany us so we can escort you to your designated work placement.”

“Arrested? On what grounds?” Jonah asked them, “if it’s the noise, then you can’t-”

“-We can and we must.” The officer strode towards us, holding his taser just a few inches from Jonah’s face. “So, I suggested you shut up and cooperate before we’re forced to make you cooperate.”

They forced every one of us out of the flat. Lined us up outside in the courtyard, searched us ‘for weapons’ and tied a set of cable-cuffs around our wrists. Any sign of struggling, and the medallion at our wrists would deposit a tranquilliser that was said to knock you out for almost ten hours. And all the while, I kept on thinking ‘I don’t understand’. Why us? What did we do wrong? Maybe the noise was getting to the neighbours, but it couldn’t have been a crime, worthy of mass arrests and taser guns. Is this what happened to Terry? Had he committed some minor offence, and suffered trumped-up consequences?

“Can I please call my mother?” Lena asked one of the officers. “If you’re going to take me away, she’ll want to know where I am.”

In the officer’s eyes, I would’ve thought there’d be compassion. Anyone who looked at Lena would know she would always have worrying parents and friends she ought to be with. But he just leaned in, with a cold look, completely immune to her doe-like stare.

“Your mother doesn’t give a s**t about you.” He spat, shoving her. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll keep your snivelling little mouth shut!”

“You don’t get to talk to her like that, you pig!” Rose sucked her cheeks in and spat, right in that man’s eye. “All she did was ask you a question. If you can’t answer, then why are you here?”

Throwing his hand back, his knuckles caught Rose’s cheek in a single second. I gasped-he hit her! An armed officer, nearly twice her size, backhanded her across the face. What was wrong with him? What ‘man of the law’ would hit a woman, just for answering back?

“Barry, don’t!” Another officer, one with a long nose and dogged eyes, appeared behind him. “They belong to Pillor now. We can’t damage bought goods.”

Pillor? Who was Pillor?

“Consider yourself lucky I haven’t tasered you.” The pig, Barry, hissed at Rose. Turning away from her, he continued to monitor the rest of us. I was always taught that policemen were supposed to be good people. Protecting their communities from those who wanted to hurt us. In their nice, fancy uniforms and their shiny medals, we praised them, worshipped them for making our town a better place. Now, what were we supposed to do? These men weren’t brave, or kind, or wonderful people. They arrested us, bound us, violated our privacy and treated us less than human; and we didn’t even know why. Shouldn’t we be entitled to that? Shouldn’t we have our rights presented to us?

I said I wanted a break from my parents, and that I didn’t know when I would return to them. Imagine their reactions when they found out their ‘problem-child’ was taken away by policemen and shipped off to some work-place facility, for no imaginable reason? Cassandra might have to cancel her wedding. Dad might leave his office for more than an hour or so. Mum might just have an aneurism. Whatever happened, I wouldn’t be there to see it. Shame. It might’ve made them realise how much they loved me. If they loved me.