Jack and Mr. Grin (7 page)

The bus made its fifth stop and he stood up, wanting to run, wanting to continue through the day as fast he possibly could. He stepped out into the cold, drawing it into his lungs. It almost felt welcome after the cramped steaminess of the bus.

Fourteen

On his way to Tim Fox’s, Jack worked out what he would say. It was an admittedly strange way to approach someone. He would have to say just the right things in order for the man to even let him in his house.

And what if Tim Fox
is
Mr. Grin? What then?

He didn't know. Would the bloodshed start right away? Would Tim Fox try and hide the fact he was Gina’s captor? All of these things seemed so abstract to Jack that he had a hard time thinking about them.

He walked up the steps leading to the front door and took a deep breath. Reaching out, he knocked on the worn wood of the door.

The man who opened the door was not what he was expecting at all. The only pictures he’d seen were head shots, nearly ten years old. Maybe it was the same with every guy, but he pictured Tim Fox as either a threatening musclebound jerk or a totally hideous beast. Someone so pitiable as to make him wonder how Gina could have ever gone out with him or someone so perfectly masculine as to make him think the only reason Gina would have broken up with him was if he was some kind of violent lunatic.

Tim Fox was neither of these things. He seemed a lot older than Gina. The first signs of gray were starting at the temples of his otherwise sand-colored hair. He had a short beard, also flecked with bits of white. He wore a pair of stylish, round plastic-frame glasses. He looked like he could have been a college professor or perhaps a psychologist. Jack didn’t know if Gina had ever said what it was he did for a living. It also occurred to him that maybe this wasn’t Gina’s Tim Fox. After all, it couldn’t be that uncommon of a name.

“Can I help you?” Fox said. He raised his eyebrows when he spoke, a gesture Jack always found condescending. He looked tired.

“Maybe,” Jack said, deciding to just launch into his story before this guy could raise serious questions about him. “My name is Jack Orange. You don’t know me but I believe you used to know my girlfriend, Gina Black.”

At this his face lit up a little bit, the way a person’s will when they think about someone they haven’t thought about for a long time.

“Yes, Gina...” Then his look grew immediately concerned. “Is she okay?”

“Well, I hope so,” Jack said. “Although, I was wondering if I could ask you a few things about her.”

Fox glanced back into the house.

Jack’s heart skipped a beat.

Was he hiding something? Was that what that look meant?

“I guess you should come in out of the rain,” he offered. “But we’ll have to keep our voices down. I just put the baby down for her nap.”

“This shouldn’t take very long.”

“Come on in.” His voice was low, soothing. Jack supposed Gina had felt a great sense of comfort when around this man. Then he remembered she had ultimately left him because he was fucking someone else.

Jack followed Tim through the living room and into the kitchen at the back of the house.

Tim pulled out a wooden chair and gestured for Jack to sit down. “Can I get you something to drink?” he asked.

“No, but thanks.”

Tim pulled out the chair across from Jack, sat down, crossed his legs and said, “So what’s up?”

“I know you and Gina were together for quite a while. Believe me, I wish there was someone else I could bother with this but I know that no one knows another person like a lover. They’re the ones that see just about every side of a person. Especially all the really ugly sides.”

Tim furrowed his brow but nodded at the same time. “I think I’d have to agree with you. Are you sure Gina’s okay?”

“Well, physically, I guess, she’s fine. I was just kind of wondering if she ever seemed, I don’t know...
dan
gerous to you?”

“Gina was certainly an interesting woman. She had a few different sides. You probably know that.”

“I’m afraid maybe this goes beyond that. To be honest with you, she’s in the wellness center.”

“Really?” He sounded genuinely surprised. “Any particular reason?”

“I think she’s delusional. And she’s developed a drinking problem.”

“Hmmm. I didn’t know she touched the stuff.” So he
did
know her. “As for the delusional part... I can see that.”

“I’m just kind of wondering... and her doctor is just kind of wondering if it’s just me or if these are patterns in her behavior. You know, has she been like this forever or is it just
me
making her crazy? I mean, was she ever violent when she was with you? Did she ever run off and not come back for days?”

“Let’s see... Again, I couldn’t really say about the drinking. When she was with me, she never touched the stuff but it’s entirely possible she developed a taste for it. She always had a problem letting go. I don’t recall her ever being violent and the only time she ran off was when she decided she was going to start sleeping at your place.”

Jack lowered his head. Only a few minutes and Tim had already made him feel guilty. He didn’t have time for guilt. He decided to trudge ahead with his line of questioning.

“But you said you could understand the delusional part. Did she ever have any delusions?”

“I don’t know that I would call them delusions, really. She just... she just didn’t think the way everybody else did. Did she ever take you to that field... with the trains?”

Immediately, it felt like Tim had stolen a vital part of their relationship. Jack nodded his head and scratched the idea of proposing to Gina there.

“Well, she called that ‘When Two Worlds Collide.’ Like it was a painting that needed a title or something. So we would stand in that freight car.” A little grin played at the corner of his mouth. “Well, if you’ve been there with her, then you know it wasn’t just
standing
we were doing. Anyway, she said that if you were to go through the freight car... like out the other side? You would find yourself in a different world entirely. So I was always coaxing her to do this. I would do it myself. Just to tease her, you know. Hop out on the far side of the freight car and then hop back in.” He spread out his arms. “Still here. I’m still here, Gina, I would tell her. But she was terrified. Refused to do it herself. Said she was afraid if she went out then she wouldn’t be coming back. I always thought that was a little bit odd.”

Tim’s back was to the refrigerator. Jack’s back was to the opening of the living room. He heard a shuffling noise and was immediately on his feet. Tim had mentioned a baby. Jack didn’t think a baby could be creeping up behind him. Tim stood up with Jack, his eyes full of alarm.

Jack turned around to see a blonde girl who couldn’t have been more than sixteen.

She wore a white button down dress shirt, cuffed at the arms, her nipples erect against its fabric.

“Who’s this, Timmy?” she asked.

Jack turned back to look at Tim. He guessed old habits were hard to break. Tim wore an embarrassed grin, clasping his hands in front of his chest.

“Jack,” he said. “This is Amber. Amber, this is Jack. An old friend.”

Jack guessed that old friends were rare for Tim. When compared to Amber, Jack certainly
felt
old. Knowing the time for useful information had passed, Jack said, “Thanks for your time, Tim,” and started to leave the house.

From behind him, Tim screamed and Jack heard him drop to the ground.

The girl squealed and rushed to his side.

Nearly at the front door, Jack turned around and headed back into the kitchen, already knowing why Tim was screaming.

Collapsed on the linoleum of the kitchen, a wild look in his eyes, he clawed at his left forearm beneath his sweater. Amber held his right arm. Jack couldn’t tell if she was trying to yank him up from the floor or if it was a gesture of comfort. Tim yanked the sleeve of his sweater up and looked, horrified, at what Jack already knew was there.

The strange mark.

Jack now stood over Tim.

“What’s that?” Jack asked, playing ignorant. “Can I take a look?”

Tim continued to scream, his eyes darting around in his head. He pointed at Jack and screamed, “You have to leave! Amber! Get him out of the house!”

“I just need to see,” Jack said. He felt sadistic, leaning over this man, trying to grab his arm so he could have a closer look. Already, since leaving Maria, he had nearly forgotten what the mark looked like. When he saw it on Tim’s arm he realized he hadn’t forgotten at all. Because he could identify this as the very same mark. The design was just so simple it wasn’t something the mind wanted to dwell on.

Tim batted at him with his arm, trying to smack him away. Jack had seen everything he needed to see.

“Okay okay,” he said. “I’m going. Sorry to bother you.”

“Get the fuck out!” Tim shouted. And then, “You’ll never find her! I hope you know that! You’ll never find her!”

This did something to Jack’s insides. This man was not like Maria. He was not a friend. By him being Gina’s former lover, he was more like an enemy. Jack doubled back into the kitchen one final time. He put his foot on Tim’s chest, forcing his back to the floor. Then he leaned over the frightened man and said, “I'm going to find her. Nothing is going to stop me from finding her. And if I find out you had anything to do with this... If I find out you hurt her in any way and caused her to do this, I’m coming back for you. So you might want to think about that.” Then he poked the strange brand on Tim’s arm, undoubtedly sending a shot of pain through him. “I hope you enjoy the gift.”

Once again, Jack turned to leave the house, this time certain he would not be turning back. Tim continued to wail, his teenage girl cooing to him, telling him he was going to be all right, telling him to calm down, asking him if he needed to go to the hospital.

Jack banged out the door and into the gloom, surveying the little neighborhood, unfolding his map to figure out which direction he needed to go in order to find Sam’s house. His head was as cloudy as the sky but, somehow, things made more sense now.

It was the mark. The brand. The tattoo. Whatever the hell it was. Maybe it was a clue. Whatever it was, it unified everything. So far it was the only thing that followed him through the day. Mr. Moran had the mark. He too had tried to attack Jack. Maria had the mark and she had not tried to attack him but maybe that was only because she knew him better than the others. And then Tim had received the mark. He had not really tried to attack Jack but he was in a big hurry to get him out of the house. Jack remembered what Maria had said about the mark. About how she had seen a clear picture of Jack in her head and he wondered if the others had seen the same thing. Was that why they were so eager to either attack him or run him out of the house? It was entirely possible. It would make sense if that were the case. Something like Pavlovian conditioning. You experience great pain and you associate someone with that pain then you probably will not want to see that person, afraid they may cause you pain.
He thought about taking the bus again but knew he didn’t have any miracle change left in his pocket. He hoped that another miracle would surface, something that didn’t come in a form as petty as correct change. Time was running out. It was now nearly
two o’clock
. Jack wondered how Gina was doing. He wasn’t going to fool himself into thinking Mr. Grin was beyond hurting her. He had heard the screams. He knew that Mr. Grin had stripped Gina down. Those things alone were enough to make Jack want to hurt him very badly. But, he reminded himself, he wasn’t just going to have to hurt him. He was going to have to kill him. What would Mr. Grin have to do in order to make Jack feel comfortable about killing him?

No. Jack knew it wasn’t about being comfortable with killing him. He didn’t know if anyone outside of gang members and the military ever felt comfortable with killing another human being. But what would it take to make him
want
to kill Mr. Grin?

It was hard to think beyond his need to find Gina and take her to safety. To bring her back home.

He quickened his pace. On his way to Sam’s house.

Fifteen

It was like the more things that happened to him, the more confused he became. Was he any closer to Gina now than he was when he had received his first call from Mr. Grin? He didn’t know. He couldn’t know. It just didn’t seem possible. Of course, none of this seemed possible. It was like it was happening to someone else. He nearly resigned himself to the fact Mr. Grin was just toying with him. Like maybe they were states away by now. Maybe there really wasn’t any hope at all of Jack finding them.

Then what happened?

Would tomorrow morning roll around and then... would that be it? Would that be the last he would ever hear of Gina?

No. He was going to find her. He
had
to find her.

As he walked at his now customary brisk pace through the neighborhood, maybe only a mile from Sam’s house, his thoughts returned to the marks.

They had to mean something.

What did they mean?

Were they given to those people as a warning? As some way to dissuade them from helping Jack? If Mr. Grin were capable of somehow telepathically inflicting these marks on people then he was a lot more powerful than Jack could have ever imagined. That was something bordering on the supernatural and, thus far in his life, Jack had never seen anything even remotely resembling the supernatural. Growing up in Glowers Hook, there had been rumors but, even there, he had not seen so much as a ghost. Not even something fleeting past the corner of his eye. What he had witnessed so far, both the good and the bad, could be explained through science or human nature.