The Road to Round Mountain: The Betrayal by (12 page)

land for misfit toys is for real”. He smiled over that one,  “Yeah I guess it is”, and he checked his watch only to find  out that it was no longer working. Being that close to me  I forgot to tell him about my force field that follows me  everywhere. “Sorry about your watch, but since I got hit  by lightning, things tend to not work around me, or blow  up, I forgot t tell you”. “Not a problem”, as he looked up  at the clock on the wall by the door. “Let’s go grab some  lunch, it’ll be nice to actually have someone to sit with for a  change. The foods not real good, but there’s a lot of it, and  I’ll tell you about our problem children”.

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wAlkIng over to
 
the mess hall as Gordon calls it

was quiet, but I could tell that Gordon had a lot on his mind.  He peeked around the corner of mess hall and said, “Good  there’s only one person in line so far, let’s go”. As we got up  to the front door we could hear it unlock and Gordon mo-

tioned for me to go ahead. The inside vaguely reminded me  of a diner, the smell of pasta boiling and hamburger meat  cooking filled the mess hall.

The dining area was set up with six tables each with four  chairs set up in no particular order. Along the perimeter was  tile, and the dining area was all carpet. We made our way  to the front of the line which was a similar set up to the  high school cafeteria. The choices were few but the portions  made up for the lack of choice. Cheesy pasta with hamburger, French fries, bread and either milk, tea or water.

Gordon’s’ choice of tables was the one closest to the door.

As we took our seat, the rest of our bunkmates arrived. I kept my attention on my plate, I already heard their ban-ter over my hair. Gordon employed the same strategy. The noise level grew rapidly, as I heard on of the steroid junkies behind the counter shout, “Shut your mouth Sully”. After a few minutes I raised my head to have a peek at the rest of the flock. “Hey Gordon”, as I motioned with my head to-wards the table furthest in back, “aren’t those four the same ones that were playing cards next door”. Without looking up,

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Gordon knew exactly who I was talking about, “Yeah, those four are always together, the one doing most of the talking is  Frankie Langella, he says his grandpa was a big time mobster in Chicago, and claims he still has ties with them”. “Who is the one wearing the dark football helmet”? Again without looking up Gordon says, “That’s not a helmet”. Holy crap, that dude’s head was huge. “That would be Sully Biggs, the local muscle for Frankie”. “His name’s Sully”, I inquired? “If you were to call him Sullivan, he would crush you, so every-one calls him Sully. The guy is huge, strong, and has a mean steak a mile wide”.

“The third one who occasionally causes crap is B.B., his  real name is Baxter Butler, and he prefers B.B., and the final  member of the crew is really quiet, and all I know about him  is his first name, Jimmy, he got here three weeks ago”. The  four horsemen ride again.

The lunch wasn’t too bad, it had some flavor, and was  definitely filling, and the tea on the other hand tasted like it  was made last week. I’ll have to remember to stick with water.

“Hey Pepe, get over here”, Frankie hollered at me from  across the room. I looked over at Gordon and he shrugged  his shoulders. I decided to stay put. “Hey skunk head, get  your ass over here now”! One of the ex-marine muscle men  behind the counter added, “Put a cork in it Frankie, nobody’s  in the mood for your shit”. Frankie replied, “nobody’s in the  mood for your shit either but you keep putting it on our  plates”. That comment garnered a rather loud bit of laughter  from the four horseman’s table.

My eye’s felt like they were going to pop out of my head when Sully decided to get up and head in my direction.

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Gordon’s description of him was spot on, we’re obviously about the same age, but that’s where the similarity ends. Sully had no neck which made his head look even bigger. He has short dark hair and was getting dangerously close to growing a uni-brow. I made no conscious effort to stand, but I did anyway. He was a good head taller than me, and a good 350 lbs. at least. He was now directly across the table from me,  “Frankie wants you over there”, pointing at the table where they were sitting. “So I suggest you make your way over there before I do it for you”. I felt like I was in a really bad after school special. I didn’t move, but Sully was walking around the table and stopped about three feet from me.

I noticed that he was wearing a wrist watch, so I decided to employ a bit of strategy from one of the Criminal Minds episodes. It was either that or let him hit me. I looked up at him and said, “My friend wants to tell you something”. Sully looked over at Gordon, then back at me, “I’m not interested in what your friend Gordon wants to tell me”. “I’m not talk-ing about him, it’s one of the friends in my head that tells me things from time to time, and he wants me to tell you that your watch has stopped working”. Sully glanced down at his watch, and in fact it had stopped working.

“You some kind of freak or something”, Sully countered.  “Yeah, you could say that I’m a freak of nature”. Sully got a little closer; I guess the watch routine didn’t faze him as I had hoped. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, but  I needed to remember to control my anger. I put my focus on  Sully’s face, as he was trying to stare me down. With cat like quickness he reached out with his right hand to grab me by the throat. I took a step back and waved my hand at his, and

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his arm immediately went down. He tried a second time but  I was able to keep his arm from moving, but didn’t know for  how long.

Mr. Watkins had just stormed through the door, closely  followed by the two ex- marines that served our lunch. All  three of them grabbed ahold of Sully, only to have one of  them being shrugged off like a bug. Sully was definitely a  force. It took a minute before the three of them had control

of Sully and escorted him out of the mess hall. I’m sure it

wasn’t over between him and me.

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17

FrAnk FInIshed Another
 
phone call, as Don pulled into the Short stop convenience store parking lot.  Don looked around for a spot where they could set up shop.  “Pickens’ are pretty slim Frank”. Frank gave him a dismissive look, “Pull into the gravel just past their parking lot, and if they get curious, flash them a badge and tell them to move on”. Don did as instructed, maneuvering the van so that he had a good view of the Coast Guard base across the street.

“Will you be able to get camera views of all three of those buildings”, Frank inquired? “Not a problem, we have the two cameras’ on the roof, and the other on tripod by the back window. Give me about ten minutes and we’ll be in busi-

ness”. Frank was satisfied with Don’s efforts, “Did you get  any more information on Chandler Parson’s where abouts”?  Don held up a finger to indicate the he needed just a moment, “Okay here we are. Parson’s has a corporation set up  in Miami, called Green Country, set up to accept donations  and paid out to a number parties representing anything from  clean earth to stop global warming. It looks legitimate on  the surface, but most of his payouts have gone to people that  used to work for him at the CIA. I should have more in a

couple of hours”. Frank wondered what the hell was Parson’s  up to, and why was Agent Boling helping his cause. “Sounds  good, but also look into his personal finances’ to see if anything is related to why Boling is out here”. Don nodded as he

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was busy at the keyboard.

“I’m going in for coffee, you want anything, Frank asked?  “Sure coffee, black, and thanks”. Frank had just got out of the  van when he noticed a commotion across the street. Three

men were trying to take some huge kid somewhere. The  kid was putting up quite a fight. Frank thought to himself  that Billy Speer might not be as safe as they had originally  thought. He watched as the men got the kid inside another  building. Shaking his head, Frank went inside, hoping to  find some fresh coffee.

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gordon wAs stIll
 
in his chair, looking up at me  and not quite sure what he just saw. The rest of the group  in the mess hall continued with their lunch. It was apparent  that these types’ of outbursts were common place. The only  grumbling came from the four horsemen’s table, minus their  biggest horse of course. “Oh crap, here comes B.B.”, Gordon  said in a shaky voice.

I was finished with my lunch and Gordon was almost  there as B.B. made his way to our table. He didn’t possess the  physical presence of Sully, but carried a sneer that featured a  crinkling of the nose, like he smelled dirty socks everywhere  he went. He got up next to me and leaned over towards me;  I’m guessing he didn’t want a kiss. “Frankie wanted me to  pass on that he hopes that you have a restful night’s sleep  tonight”, he giggled, then B.B. and his crinkled up nose went  back to his own table.

Gordon looked around the mess hall in a nervous man-

ner, and then said, “Let’s go outside, they’re planning some  shit, and pounding you is only part of it”. I was curious, so we  took our trays over to the conveyer belt, sat them down and  watched them disappear into the back of the kitchen. I was  wishing I could disappear that easily.

Once we got outside Gordon motioned me to follow  him. I followed him between the mess hall and the recreation

building. He went around the back side of the Rec. building,

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where we came upon a couple of weather worn lawn chairs  that faced the Bay. The wind was picking up which made it  cool, even by July standards.

Gordon looked around quickly, apparently satisfied that  we were alone. “What the hell did I just see in there”, as  Gordon pointed towards the mess hall? What did I have to  lose; the bullies were beating up Gordon and now planning  to beat me up, so I told Gordon everything. A few times  during my explanation, Gordon’s mouth literally fell open. I  could tell by the expression on his face that he was having a  hard time absorbing this information.

“This is entirely too Twilight zone like, you can really  move shit by focusing on it, you will it to happen”? ‘It’s  true, but it’s still new to me so I don’t really have a handle  on it yet, and don’t know that I ever will”. He bent over to  pick up a small rock and placed it on the tree stump table  that was between the two lawn chairs. He said, “Okay then,  make that rock move if you can”. I think I’ve just been challenged. So be it, I put my focus on the rock; kept concentrating, then swung my arm out away from my body and  the rock went flying.

“Too cool, that rock must have gone fifty feet”, Gordon  exclaimed. I too was amazed at the ease of which the rock

took off. I was curious about what he had mentioned, not  so much about pounding me, but the planning some shit  peaked my interest.

We took up temporary residence in the lawn chairs,  both of us trying to absorb new information. “I get the fact  that this is like a last chance housing, but what happens  when we turn 18, do they just open the door and wish you

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the best of luck”? Gordon stayed in silence for a second,  then replied, “This place is run similar to a jail, mainly because most of the people that come through this place end  up in jail. The big dudes’ on staff here, they’re on loan from  corrections. This place was set up by family services, but is  basically run by the county”.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how did you get to be here”?  Gordon didn’t look at me but kept his focus on the bay. “I  was one of the few that never got adopted, I was placed in  a few foster homes, but they were all disasters. The last one  I was at was the worst. The couple seemed okay, but I soon  found out that the husband liked me more than he liked his

wife. I ran away and ended up here, almost two years now”.  My heart sank, what a crappy way to grow up, and yet he has  endured everything life has thrown at him.

Gordon continued, “When you turn 18, they try to find  you a job, so we can become useful members of society, but  you normally live in one of the half way houses and end  up drinking, smoking or injecting most of your paycheck”.  I sensed that Gordon was bummed about this place so I  changed up the topic a bit.

“So where did they take old helmet head”, that brought  a smile to his face. “There’s a room in the back of the rec.

room set up specifically for troubled teens”. “Kind of a time  out room”, I quipped? “More like solitary, and depending on  what they did determines how long you stay in there”. This  was like a jail, “What about if we want to go somewhere, you  know to just cruise around town”? He got up from his chair  as did I and we started to make our way to the front of the  mess hall. “Normally once a week usually Saturdays’, we get

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to choose a place to go, but there’s always two of the correction dudes as our escorts”. As we made our way to the front  of the building, Gordon pointed to the convenience store  across the road. “They will let us go there, if we’re just getting  smokes or a coke or snacks. That’s the one solo trip we get to  make as long as you haven’t started any crap”. As I followed  Gordon’s point across the road, I noticed a familiar SUV  parked off to the side of the building. I’m pretty sure that’s  the same SUV that I saw when I was leaving the Hospital.