Timmy simmered, the air whistling in and out of nostrils.
“It’ll be easier when Wendell gets back here with the others,” he said, as much to himself as to me. “Then we can do everybody at once.”
35
I WANDERED TOWARD THE BACK CORNER of the stall, leaned my head in close to Lawrence’s.
“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.