Chapter 6 - Helping Hands
(...the Mankey living room...Monday morning...)
Lila stands at the mantle looking at the many pictures on it: her and Josh in the backyard, smiling, Sally in her work outfit standing in front of a house she's sold, a family portrait of her, Josh, Sally and her father. The co-ed tears up at seeing the last picture.
She hears footsteps behind her. She wipes her face and turns around. Josh trudges down the stairs.
"Good morning." While not quite cheerful, Lila greets the young man with an even tone. "Off to another day of education, huh, little bro?"
"Yeah." He doesn't quite share her amount of enthusiasm.
She wraps him in a big hug.
"Mom's okay. I know it." Lila honestly didn't, but she couldn't let herself entertain any thoughts of otherwise. She releases Josh and he heads for the door.
He turns back. "Wait. Don't you have to go to class?"
"They allow you three personal days. Besides, someone has to be here to tell those telemarketers to piss off, right?"
Josh laughs a bit.
"There you go. Now, get going. Do schoolwork. Break hearts. Whatever you're up to. Things don't always have to stay the same. You can make things better."
As he walked out the door, Josh thought about his sister's advice.
(...a darkened room...ten minutes later...)
It's very much the same situation as Saturday. A desk lamp (barely) illuminates Sally, the goons behind her, Landon at his desk and Sheila at his side. His hands are folded on the desk.
"Congratulations, Sally. You've done just what I asked. It was truly nice seeing you again. I'd like to commend you on a job well done..."
He laughs a bit.
"...is what I would've said if not for this!"
He flings a copy of the Toronto Sun at her. She catches it and unfolds it. Her eyes fix on the headline:
"'Politician Survives Assassination Attempt'. 'Survives.'" He slams his fists down. "I did not bring you up here for survival!"
"I'm sorry. I just..." She steals a glance at Sheila. "I haven't been at this for a while, you know? My reflexes aren't what they used to be."
"And yet you were able to catch that newspaper with no problems."
Sally clears her throat out of nervousness.
"I'm starting to lose respect for you, Sally."
The goons reach their hands toward her in a threatening manner.
"I won't miss you."
The two pairs of meathooks draw closer. Sally puts her hands up.
"From what I understand, Denny really wants to put you out."
"Yes", Landon replies, irritated.
Her hands return to their sides. "He wants to ruin what you've worked so very hard to create?"
"Yes!"
"And you think a simple bullet through the head will make up for it?"
"Well..."
"He should be made to suffer. To have his last agonizing moments drawn out."
Sally looks her ex-colleague in the eyes. "Am I right?"
"Yes, you are. There's a charity ball being held at the Crowne Plaza tonight. Denny will, no doubt, be attending."
"I won't let you down."
"I know." He snaps his fingers. "Gentlemen, see that Mrs. Mankey gets back safely."
The two lackeys escort Sally out...and she can't help but smile on the inside. Two decades of working as a real-estate agent taught her just how to read a customer; to know just what he or she may need. She never once believed that these skills would be necessary in talking her way out of certain death.
(...the halls of Middleton High...a couple of hours later...)
Kim walks past a number of students. The Kimmunicator beeps. She turns it on."
"Wade. What's the sitch?"
"You got a hit on the site. Apparently, a politician was shot at last night. He needs the extra security."
"That doesn't sound too bad. Any idea who fired the shot?"
"None, and you wanna know something unusual?"
"What?"
"The shell of the bullet. It was removed from the wall."
"And...?"
"It came from a Remington thirty-aught six hunting rifle. They don't give these out to just anybody. It's like the shooter...meant to miss."
"Why would a professional assassin intentionally miss their target?"
"We'd need a profiler for that."
"I'm gonna need a ride, though."
"On its way, Kim."
"Thanks, Wade." She switches off the device.
(...the darkened room...moments later...)
Landon rifles through some of his files. Sheila stands over him, her arms folded.
"Please."
He doesn't look up. "Please what?"
"Please don't tell me you bought that lame-ass excuse."
He stops his shuffling. "Do I have 'gullible' written on my forehead? I know you'd tell me if I did." She continues to stare. "Of course not."
He reaches for the phone. "A man has to have insurance." He picks up the receiver.
(...the streets of Middleton...)
A car makes its way down the road. The handsome driver turns a corner. His cell phone rings. He presses the 'on' button.
The device is at his ear. "Hello."
"Are you on your way to the target?"
"I certainly am."
"Excellent. I'll stay in touch. If I don't, you know what to do."
"Indeed." The driver turns off the phone as he rounds another corner.
He looks around at the buildings and the people walking down the street. Another corner turned. "Man, how big is this town?"
(...the halls of Middleton High...an hour later...)
The bell rings. Among many students, Kim walks out of a classroom.
She passes by an open locker. The door closes, revealing Josh.
"Hey, Kim."
"Hey, Josh. How are you feeling?" Kim grimaces a little. She had somewhat regretted asking the question the moment it left her lips, but one ends up asking on impulse.
He shakes his hand a bit. "So-so."
"Have you heard anything?"
"Not a thing."
"I'm sorry."
Kim starts to walk off. "Wait!", he calls out.
She turns around. "Yes?"
He walks up to her. "You wished there was something you could do to help."
"Yes."
"Well, I thought of something. I want to go on a mission."
Kim's eyes widen. "I'm sorry?"
"I need to be prepared in case I ever meet that guy who..." He takes a breath. "Kim, I need this."
"Josh..."
He looks deep into her eyes. "Please."
She exhales. This almost never happens; people asking to accompany her on missions.
(...outside the Mankey home...moments later...)
The car pulls up across the street from the house. The young man reaches over to the passenger's seat and pulls out a suitcase. He looks at the home, a slight smile gracing his features.
(...the cafeteria...)
Amid the chatter of his classmates, Ron sits at an empty table, ready to dig into...whatever it was that currently occupied his tray. It was brown. That's a good sign, right? A hand taps him on the shoulder.
He turns around. "KP. Where have you be--?"
"We need to get going. There's a sitch in Toronto."
"All right." He gets up and follows her out.
"There's something I need to tell you, though."
"What's that?"
"Well...Josh is coming with us."
Ron stops and stares at her for a bit. "No, really, what do you want to tell me?"