“Wendell’s going to be back here any minute with Bob and Betty and Hank,” I said. “Then he’s going to kill the whole lot of us.”
“Yeah,” said Lawrence. “I’ve been following.”
“What if we hop the gate, rush Timmy, maybe one of us gets to a gun before Dougie does?”
Lawrence thought. “What about your bear spray?”
“Used up,” I said. “All gone.”
He sighed. “Rushing Timmy may be our only option. But I don’t think we’ll all survive it. He’ll get at least one of us before the other two can take him. And that’s only if Dougie’s slow off the mark.”
“I’ll go first,” said Dad, who had edged close enough to hear what we were talking about.
“No, Dad,” I said.
“Look, I’m the old guy, I’ve had a good run. Let me go first, and while he’s dealing with me, you two grab him.”
The thing was, even if I liked the idea, which I didn’t, it would take Dad, in his condition, so much longer to hop the gate that there wouldn’t be the slightest element of surprise.
“Something you’d like to share with the class?” Timmy said. We broke apart. “A little less chatter, okay?”
We said nothing. Timmy called Dougie over to the back of the van.
“Okay,” Timmy said. “I know the parade’s not till morning, but I want you in position early, before the sun comes up. You got to be somewhere that’s close to the parade route, and close to the town hall, because I want both of them taken out. You understand?”
“Sure, Timmy.”
“Good. Before you go, I’ll set the bomb so it’s ready to receive the signal from the remote detonator, so you won’t have to worry about doing that.”
“Okay. That’s good, because you’re better at that stuff than me.”
“No kidding,” Timmy said. Dougie’s brow furrowed, like maybe he was picking something up on his sarcasm detector.
“Now this,” Timmy said, holding up what looked like a walkie-talkie, with a short stubby antenna and a number of buttons on front, “is your remote detonator. It couldn’t be simpler. See this red button here?”
Dougie examined it. “Yes.”
“You press it, the bomb goes off.”
“I can do that.” He held the device in his hand. “But I won’t press it now.”
“It wouldn’t matter if you did, because the bomb’s not turned on. But once it is on, you have to be careful.”
“What if I drop it or something?”
“Remember I mentioned the box?” Timmy led him over to the nearby workbench and showed Dougie a small plastic case, about the size a soldering gun comes in. He opened it up, and it was filled with spongy foam, the same kind of stuff that held the surveillance gear in Lawrence’s equipment case. A recess, cut the same shape as the detonator, was cut into the foam.
“You carry the detonator in here, and take it out when you need it. That way, even if you dropped this case, or smashed it up against a wall, the red button can’t go down.”
“Whew,” said Dougie, grinning. “That’s a relief.”
“You’re sure you can handle all this?”
“Oh yeah, no problem.”
“Because, and I have to be honest with you here, Dougie, I’d normally do this myself, or trust it to Wendell, but your mother thinks it’s time you were given more responsibility. And she wants you to take on something big, like this.”
“I know. It’s for my self-esteem. I think it’s already starting to feel bigger.”
“That’s really terrific,” Timmy said.
Lawrence was watching Dougie and Timmy, and I knew he was doing mental calculations. Distance and time. Time and distance.
“We gonna put it in there now?” Dougie asked, pointing to the detonator and the foam-filled box on the workbench.
“Soon enough,” Timmy said. “Soon enough.”
“I’m back!”
It was Wendell’s voice, but it wasn’t Wendell who made the first entrance. Bob Spooner stepped in, wearing a pair of boxers, a jacket, and a pair of work-boots without socks. Betty and Hank hadn’t been given any time to get dressed either. She was in a long blue flannel nightgown and slippers, and Hank was in blue pajamas and bare feet. Wendell came in last, the shotgun leveled at their backs.
“Oh man,” Lawrence whispered.
“Over this way, folks!” Timmy said, greeting them with a wave of the hand and directing them to the stall. “Welcome!” He unlatched the gate and swung it wide enough to admit the new prisoners. Hank’s face was wild with fear. Betty looked scared, too, but at the same time there was a calmness about her. And Bob looked dazed, as if this were all some sort of dream, that he’d wake up a few hours later and none of this would have happened.
I hardly knew what to say to them as Timmy closed the gate.
“Things are starting to come together,” he said.
“So,” said Wendell. “I got ’em. Good, huh?”
“Yeah. You done good.”
He reached into his pocket, pulled out several sets of car keys. “And I got everybody’s keys, in case anyone thought of trying to get away, they wouldn’t get very far. And I even yanked out the phone line in the first cabin. It was the only cabin with one, I checked.”
Timmy nodded happily. “Wendell, that was good thinking. Really good thinking. I hadn’t thought of that.”
Wendell blushed. “It was no big deal.”
“I’d have thought of that,” Dougie said. “If you’d told me.”
Timmy, his back to Dougie, looked at Wendell and rolled his eyes. He pulled Wendell to one side, close enough to the gate that I could hear their discussion.
“I’m a little worried about Dougie,” Timmy said. “You think he can do this?”
“I guess,” Wendell said.
“I was thinking, what might make sense would be, you drive into town a little later after Dougie goes, stick with him till the sun comes up, in case he gets nervous or anything, and then after he blows up the van, you can give him a lift back out here.”
“Yeah, I can do that. But it might make Mom mad. She wants him to do this alone.”
“Okay, fine. I’ve also got another little problem.”
“What’s that?”
Timmy’s voice got even quieter. “I’m gonna need a place to put all these bodies.”
“How many?”
Timmy took a few steps back, his face appearing around the corner of the stall. He was counting us. Then he disappeared from view. He whispered to Wendell, “At least six.” He paused. “Maybe a couple more. I don’t know. I gotta sort that out later.”
“Gee, where we gonna do that? I don’t have to dig a hole, do I? I mean, if it was just a couple, that would be okay, but that many? That’ll take forever.”
I knew something about the frustrations associated with getting your kids to do chores, but this was a bit beyond my realm of experience.
“Any other ideas?” Timmy asked.
“What if I put them in the lake? Like, we put their bodies in a boat and sink the boat?”
“I don’t know. Won’t they just float back up?”
“What if it’s a boat with a deck, and we stuff them under the deck?”
“Any boats like that down at Walker’s place?”
“I don’t know. I never looked.”
“Why don’t you go check it out. See if any other ideas present themselves to you.”
“Okay.”
“Oh, and wish Dougie good luck. He might be gone before you get back.”
Wendell went over to his brother, patted him on the back, said, “Good luck, man. I’ll see you later, okay?”
Dougie gave him a thumbs-up, and then Wendell slipped away.
“Did you hear any of that?” Bob Spooner whispered to me.
“All of it,” I said.
“They’re talking about how to get rid of our bodies!”
“Shhh!” I said. “I know. I know.”
“Dougie!” Timmy said. “I’m getting a bit tired, watching our guests all the time. And you’re going to be heading off soon, so I wonder if you could do me a favor before you go.”