Monday, February 13, 2017

Chapter 13: The Tell-tale Sign



Nothing seemed out of the ordinary at the Conoco Friday morning.  Gas had taken a three-cent dip since the last time Auburn had been there, but only one car was filling up at the pump.  The same bell jingled as Auburn went in the store; no products had moved around.  Brittany was on duty, head on the counter, looking as dejected as she always did when Auburn saw her.  It wasn’t until they started talking that Auburn could tell something more than usual was wrong.
“Hi, Brittany,” she said, in a cheery tone of voice.
Brittany looked up, and Auburn could tell she’d been crying.  A look of total disinterest was in her eyes as she stared blankly back at Auburn.  “Go away,” she said in a hopeless voice, like she knew that wasn’t going to happen either.
Auburn wasn’t to be swayed.  “Your sister’s alright,” she said.
“No, she isn’t!”  Fear rolled down Brittany’s face.  “She’s at the mercy of the most heartless brute that’s ever walked the streets of Blackwell!”
“What if I told you,” said Auburn, not offended at the comment, “that I know who the Purple Porcupine is?”
“So do I,” said Brittany, giving Auburn a jolt.  Oh, well…I was here to confess anyway, she thought.  But Brittany’s next words were the shocker.  “It’s Richards!”
WHAT!!!” Auburn exclaimed.
“I guess he thought I wasn’t doing enough,” Brittany said, “so he’s already gone ahead and take her.  Now, there’s no way to get her out of this.  If I don’t do everything he says—”
“Richards isn’t the Purple Porcupine!” said Auburn.
“He admitted it,” said Brittany.  “At the last meeting.  He’s got Valerie, and Allie, and now he’s gone and grabbed that Thurston kid…Bill or whatever his name is.  He says he’s getting nervous about us, and unless we start doing some bigger jobs, he’s going to kill them…”
“He’s lying,” said Auburn.  “Richards knows absolutely nothing about it.”
Brittany glared back across the counter.  “Didn’t I just tell you he admitted it?” she asked.  “Who else would be evil enough in this town to go around, snatching children from their homes—especially when they’re related to these club members?  I thought you said you knew who it was.  It’s not hard to figure out.”
“No, it isn’t,” said Auburn, “for the right people, but I guess he’s trying to—oh, never mind!  You won’t believe me over that villain Richards, I know that.  But next time I’m in here, I’ll have proof that he’s lying—absolute proof.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Auburn paid a call to the Larkin Hotel that afternoon—alone.  She’d been hoping to bring Brittany with her, but that couldn’t happen—yet.  She didn’t stay long, just for enough time to go over with Valerie and Allie what to do that weekend.  With her parents home from work, Auburn knew she wouldn’t get a chance to visit the hotel again until next Monday.
She wouldn’t get a chance to go out as the Purple Porcupine either.  Until Sunday night, that is.  Actually, she could even go Saturday, but there’d be no point.  Auburn wanted to strike again and triumphantly march into Conoco the next day, with proof for Brittany that Richards knew nothing about the missing children’s whereabouts.
But what proof could she bring?  If she took Brittany to the hotel right now, Brittany might suspect her of being in line with Richards.  She had to do something that would totally set her aside, something Richards would never do, something big enough to make the news.
Friday night passed uneventfully.  The police were on red alert, but nothing was going on that night—Auburn could have told them that.  At least, she thought she could have told them that, but when she awoke the next morning, she found out she was wrong.  Richards’s gang had struck again.  The Kay County courthouse had been burglarized the previous evening, and an important deed had vanished.  The document established ownership of a property currently being contested in court; without that piece of paper, Mrs. Jennings would lose her house to a developer.  Police interrogated the man, but he denied any knowledge of the crime.  Security cameras caught footage of the robber, but he/she was masked, and the only notable feature was that he/she was really short.  “When the Purple Porcupine finally takes the night off, the midgets strike,” Blackwell’s newscaster said to introduce the story.
Eating cold oatmeal, Auburn glowered at the radio.
Saturday night, a house one block from the fire station caught fire.  It was saveable, only when the firefighters hopped in their trucks, they found the gas tanks empty and the tires slashed.  Some of the faster ones ran down to the house with a hose, only to watch water come spraying out of dozens of little holes that had been poked in it.  The property was a total loss, and the vandalized fire property would cost quite a bit of money.  “Fire equipment up in smoke,” an announcer reported.  “Purple Porcupine not involved.”
You better believe I wasn’t behind that, Auburn thought, chasing soggy Froot Loops around her bowl.  Drat that Richards.
And Sunday evening, a full half-hour before twelve, Auburn made her move.
She couldn’t wait any longer.  Usually, she tried to get some sleep before going out on her nightly rounds, but her plan had been nagging her all day.  Watching the hands on the clocks slowly spin around had been sheer torture for her.  Now that it was 11:30, she couldn’t wait any longer.  Nothing was going to stop her…not even rain.
Oh, yes, did I mention it was raining?  It was, at a pretty good rate too.  Auburn brought an umbrella, but ten minutes into her walk, torrential gusts had twisted her umbrella into a practically unrecognizable shape.  I’d better just throw this out, Auburn thought, plodding through the pouring storm.  Too much explaining if Mom finds it.
The funny thing about torrential downpours, though, is that they never last very long.  By the time Auburn started down Main Street, the blasts had subsided to a steady drizzle.  Auburn was thoroughly soaked, and she’d left her umbrella in a trash can, but the rain wouldn’t be bad enough to prevent her from doing what she was about to do.
Though downtown Blackwell wasn’t as thriving as it once had been, it was still a business district, for the most part.  No one lived on it, so the police weren’t looking for a kidnapper on that street.  They were concentrating mostly on the neighborhoods this evening, expecting the Purple Porcupine to kidnap again.  They had no idea what Auburn was really up to.
Still, Auburn knew, there’d be a squad car before long.  The police always patrolled business districts at night—had to.  That was where all the money was.  Even when kidnapping wasn’t a big worry, there’d still be that car with the two headlights, one a little dimmer than the other, driving around just to show that the police were on guard.
Hiding behind a garbage dumpster, though, Auburn began to get impatient.  She checked her watch.  Ten minutes since she’d entered the alley, and still no sign of a squad car.  She was just thinking of stepping out when, suddenly, she heard the swish of tires, and the cruiser pulled down the street, making sure everything was right with the world.
Auburn let out a deep breath; then, she went into action.  She’d brought something besides the umbrella along; a fold-up ladder from her family’s garage.  Unless the smoke detectors went off, there was no chance her father would miss it tonight, which was good, because Auburn needed it.
She wandered out to the front of the Rivoli and leaned the ladder against the platform above the door.  Then, inhaling deeply, Auburn began to climb up.  A lot of theaters had the sign on the side of the awning over the door; if that had been the case, Auburn would have had to work from the ladder, climbing off and pulling it around whenever she needed to go farther to the left or right.  Not so at the Rivoli.  Below the meager sign announcing the name of the theater was a white rectangle, all set up so letters could be put in spelling out the names of movies.  A couple letters still remained in it; however, it was blank for the most part.  Characters once used to announce the premiere of Citizen Kane now spelled out Eat at Dave’s on one of the many little arrow-signboards that dotted the Oklahoma countryside.
Auburn wanted new ones anyway, though.  Her message, which she had all planned out, used no z and was quite a bit longer than that two letter title.  Ripping open the package of letters she’d bought, she got to work decorating the left side of the sign, still on despite not displaying a message.  It would again in a few seconds.
R…I…C…H (that was hard to find)…A…R…
All the rain was making it hard to see straight, and Auburn rubbed her eyes.  Yes, that was six she’d put down; she needed a D now.  She pulled open her bag and started going through it.
A…S…V…you’d think they’d sort the letters better… Auburn thought.  She stared at the V, wondering why it suddenly seemed to be turning into a W.  No, it was a V.  Wait, now it was a W, now it was a V!  It seemed to be spinning, too.
Auburn was going into a dizzy spell!
“Oh, no!” she said aloud.  “Not here, not now.  Not while I’m ten feet off the ground!  Not on Richards’s doorstep…anywhere but here…oh, no!!!”
The humming was starting now.  It wasn’t as loud as the rain yet, but it would get louder, and the spinning would get worse, until there’d be no way for Auburn to keep herself on top of the awning.
“Lord, help me!” she screamed.  Extending her arms, she grabbed desperately for something, anything that would keep her from going over the edge…
Her left arm clutched the rod that held the sign in place.  The metal was smooth, wet, and slippery.  Auburn wasn’t a lefty either, but she gripped it as tightly as she could!
Her right arm still flopped about, unable to find something to grab.  Auburn touched the sign several times, but she couldn’t manage to get a handhold with her right arm.  Now the spinning was so bad, Auburn wasn’t even sure where the sign was anymore.  All she knew was that her left arm was holding a bar, and she wasn’t letting go.
The wind tore at her sleeves.  She rocked back and forth, repeatedly banging into the marble front of the theater.  Anything, though, was better than losing that grip and falling—down—down—down to the ground below.
And then, a minute into the episode, Auburn realized the humming was getting softer.  She opened her eyes, and saw that the world wasn’t spinning as fast as it had before.  Her left hand was so damp and cold from the rain, she barely had any feeling left in it, but the grip had held.  Auburn’s panic began to subside.
When the spinning had almost entirely gone away, Auburn let go of the bar and slumped down, over the awning.  She lay, panting, for a moment before she pulled herself up and reminded her that her task had only just begun.
Now, though, she could proceed more confidently.  Those dizzy spells almost never came twice in one day.  The closest two had come to each other was five hours, once a few months ago.  Five hours from now, Auburn would be back in bed, sleeping—
How she wished she was there now.  But no, she had a job to do first…
Auburn finished putting the letters on the left side.  She took a couple objects out of her pocket, stuck them on blanks, and put one on either end of the message.  Then, she turned to the other side.
Over here, she’d be facing the cop when he returned again.  It seemed like an hour had passed since he’d last gone by; in reality, it was more like ten minutes.  Those fits caused Auburn to lose all track of time, but they had no actual effect on the clock itself.
Still, Auburn hurried.  She finished the message on the right side and was relieved to see that there were still two blanks left over.  Applying the same things she’d applied to the last ones, she was just putting the second one on when she saw headlights from Route 11.
The cop!
He was just turning back onto the street, and he was headed her way.  Fortunately, there were several blocks between 11 and Bridge, and Auburn was wearing a dark raincoat.  It would take a while before the officer would be close enough to make out Auburn, but she’d better hurry!
Auburn scampered down the ladder, then raced up the street, towards the oncoming car.  When it seemed to be getting too close, she pulled herself into the doorway of a closed store.  She watched the lights from the car speed by outside; then, she stepped out and went jogging up the street.
Behind her, the car continued down the thoroughfare, Officer Porter on the lookout for any trouble.  Since the fire Friday night—shame it didn’t rain then—Blackwell had been quiet enough, and Porter was finally starting to relax.  Right now, he had the radio on, and he was singing along to one of his favorite songs.

“It’s a simple little move,
But what improvements it’ll show!
Move the state of Arkansas to Nebraska,
Then move Nebraska to Idaho,
Then move the state of Idaho to Alaska,
And move Alaska to O-hi—OH!”

Porter was nearly at the Rivoli; close enough to see the sign.  His face went white as he saw what Auburn had done to it.  Hands trembling, he picked up his radio and hit the button.
“Chief, you’d better get down to the Rivoli right away.  There’s something you need to see!”

1 comment: