You Will Call Me Drog (16 page)

Wren and Big Boy and me together again at the dojo, that was something. I got my progress certificate, and one night Sensei invited us all to a special aikido retreat in December. It was going to be a kind of marathon practice from five o’clock to midnight, with students of different levels participating. We had to get our parents’ permission.

He said he wanted us to think hard about it too, because he was planning to turn off the heat at the beginning, and the dojo would get colder the longer we practiced. We would wear only our
gi
.

I guess we looked pretty surprised, so he explained.

“In the dojo where I trained in Japan, it was the tradition once a year to break the ice in the river and go for a dip, with only our aikido to keep us warm. It wasn’t a stunt. Once you know you can be that cold and overcome it, you don’t have to be afraid of any discomfort that comes your way. It makes you feel free.”

“Cool,” Big Boy said, and we all laughed.

“Ha! That’s nothing,” Drog said as we left. “You don’t know what cold is until you’ve spent a night in the desert. In the emir’s camp—”

“Shhhh, Drog,” I said and nudged Big Boy. “Look across the street, in front of the shoe repair shop, but pretend you’re not looking.”

Big Boy turned back to me and nodded. Notebook Man.

“I see him too,” Wren whispered. “Weird. What’s he doing here?”

Big Boy and I decided it was time to check this guy out. We hung around after school the next day and sure enough, Notebook Man showed up and followed us.

“Let’s lose him,” I said.

“Walk slow up the block,” Big Boy said. “When we get to Don’s Donuts, duck inside. I know a way out the back.”

Just before the donut shop, I turned around, looked straight at Notebook Man, and waved my Drog hand at him so that he had to look away and pretend he didn’t see. And then he didn’t, because we were gone.

The back door of the shop opened out into a cement area with dumpsters and a fence. Big Boy scrambled over the fence and I followed. After a few minutes, Big Boy peeked up over the fence, then ducked down again.

“He’s out front, looking up and down the street. He’s about to give up.”

“Let’s see where he goes,” I said.

We had fun tailing him for a change. He kept checking his watch and peering around him but not behind, so it was easy to keep him in sight. We ended up in front of Wal-green’s, near where we started. He went over and threw his notebook into the back seat of a rusted white Toyota.

“Wow,” Drog said. “The magazine business must not pay very well.”

Notebook Man leaned against his car and lit a cigarette. Then he took a phone out of his pocket and punched a number. “It’s me, Denny. You called me?”

We looked at each other.
Denny?

“Well, I couldn’t until now. ... So how are you doing?”

He held the phone away from him for a minute and we could hear a scratchy voice on the other end, then he cradled the phone back to his ear with his shoulder and retied his shoe.

“Mom, I’m real busy, you know? Well, sort of a story, but it’s a lot bigger than that. This could be it ... I know, but this is different. ... It will, Mom, you’ll see. Look, don’t call me tomorrow, okay? I’ll call you ... Yeah, I promise. Bye now.”

“Heaven forbid!” Drog said. “Another mama’s boy! Where
do
they all come—”

“Shhh, Drog,” I said. Notebook Man had punched another number.

“He’s with the big kid,” we heard him say. “I lost them for now. What? Because I thought you wanted to know. All right then, whatever you say.” He hung up and tossed the phone onto the seat, then he ducked into the store.

Big Boy sprinted toward the car.

“What ... ?” I said.

He opened the door, grabbed the phone, hit redial, then handed the phone to me.

It rang three times, then a businesslike voice came on: “This is Brian Lockwood ... Hello? Hello?”

Dad.

I hung up and stared at Big Boy.

“Whooooeee!” Drog said. “The jig is up!”

“Hey!” Notebook Man yelled. What do you think you’re doing?”

We jumped.

One-point one-point one-point
. “You’ve ... been following me,” I said.

“Really. Why would I follow you?”

“That’s what I’d like to know.”

Notebook Man took the phone out of my hand and pocketed it. “You’re over your head, kid. Now move, I’ve got places to go.”

“Like to hell,
Denny
?” Drog said. But of course Notebook Man thought that was me.

He smiled, except for his eyes. “You’re getting pretty good at that, aren’t you? Better watch out.” He started the engine.

“Or what,” I called after him, “you’ll tell my dad?”

“Or you’ll end up in a real uniform,” he said and roared away from the curb.

“Was I right?” Drog said. “A conspiracy!”

Suddenly I couldn’t seem to breathe deep enough. Notebook Man and Dad? A hundred times worse than anything I could have imagined. My own dad had someone spying on me. For what? I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Couldn’t he trust me? Could I ever trust him now?

We kept glancing behind us on our way to practice, but we didn’t see anybody.

“Guess we blew his cover,” Big Boy said. He scribbled something and handed me a scrap of paper.

“What’s this?”

“The number. I remembered your dad’s number from the guy’s redial. Thought you might want it.”

I swallowed hard. “Wow. That was smart. Thanks.” I put the number in my jacket pocket.

How was I ever going to get Mom to believe me about this? Maybe I’d have to have Big Boy come over to back me up.

That turned out not to be a problem, because the minute I walked in the door after practice she said, “Parker, that man you thought was following you. The one you called Notebook Man. What did he look like?”

“He’s tall and skinny. Long fingers. Not much hair.”

“Does he hold his head a little to the side like this?” she asked.

“That’s him! How do you know?”

“He was at the library today, and he was watching me, I’m pretty sure. Writing things down. I went over to ask him why, but he walked out.”

“Oh, so you believe me now,” I said, louder than I meant to.
Now that you have proof
. “Well, guess what else?”

Mom got panting mad then when I told her about Notebook Man and Dad. She took the phone up to her room and closed the door. She was in there so long I was about to go up and knock, when she came out, looking like she’d run a hard race and come in next to last.

“He promised he would call the guy off,” she said. “I wonder if that’s because he agrees the whole following thing was wrong, though. Maybe he’s just embarrassed about getting caught.”

I wondered the same thing.

Mom took a deep breath and let it go.

“At least he apologized. He said the man’s name is Dennis. Dennis Masterson. Somebody he went to high school with and knows through business. Apparently when this Dennis mentioned he was going to be writing about your school, Dad asked him to gather some information on your case while he was at it, and then Dennis went beyond that and started following you.”

“My case? Dad thinks I’m a
case
?”

“I know. And ‘information’! Of course he couldn’t have just
discussed
this reasonably, couldn’t have just asked me, the one person who’s been here all along!”

I could think of someone else who’d been here all along.

Mom ran her hand through her hair. “It’s because he has to have
answers,
and the way he sees it, I’m a big part of the problem.”

She rolled her shoulders back a couple of times, trying not to heat up again.

“I’m sorry, Parker. Your father should never have done something like this. It was stupid and wrong. But he was probably impatient to help solve your problem.”

Well, he was right about one thing. It was
my
problem, not his. And with Notebook Man called off, maybe I’d have one less thing to worry about.

One worry wasn’t going away, though. I wasn’t any closer to getting Drog off, and Dad must be a lot closer to doing his “something.” Notebook Man warned me about a “real uniform,” so it didn’t take a lot of brains to figure out that “something” was the big B.M.

I’d need ammunition to fight against going, and Dad was already way ahead of me on this. Suddenly I needed to know a lot more about Bradley Military than I could find out on a website. As much as I dreaded it, I had to go back.

I looked up the campus map again on the site, hoping there was another entrance, but no, I would have to walk right up the drive past the Homage to Valor to get to any of the buildings. I checked the bus schedule to make sure I could get out there after school and be back in time for aikido. No matter what happened, I’d need aikido to recover. I stuffed my
gi
into my backpack and wrapped Drog in the bandage.

I must have said
one-point one-point
about sixty times, standing outside the Bradley gate. This time there was a uniformed guy in the sentry box. I made myself go tell him I wanted to talk to someone about coming to Bradley. He looked me over, from my big hair down to my worn sneakers, and asked me if I had an appointment.

Appointment? I said no, I just wanted some information. He asked me my name, got on the phone, and then said Captain Hawkins would see me, just inside the administration building to my right. The gate opened, then closed behind me with a click.