Mae had known that going up to the old abandoned Glass Factory where Steve Scriggins and his cronies hung out was a bad idea. But then again, Mae had never exactly been the queen of good decision-making.
When Mae woke up the day after her confrontation with the tattoo man (Or, as he was apparently known, 'Dudley') she hadn't been able to get her mind over what she'd been told. Mae had had a lot of bombs dropped on her the other day, and she was still trying to get over the fallout.
She had a lot of questions—questions about Casey, and what he'd been doing during the two years Mae had been at college. None of Mae's friends had any definite answers, though—just ideas and theories.
But that was okay. Even if Mae's friends were about as clueless as she was, there were a few people in town who just might have the answers Mae needed. Unfortunately, those people were kind of horrible.
Mae had no way of actually knowing that Steve and Levy would be at the glass factory. It was the only place Mae could think to look, though. After all, Mae didn't really associate with Scriggins, so she didn't know what any of his hang-outs were. Mae assumed that Steve spent most of his time at garbage dumps with the rest of the trash people.
When Mae reached the glass factory, though, she soon discovered that she'd come to the right place. The old sedan with the faded, green paint that Mae had seen the last time she'd come to the factory was parked outside.
More evidence presented itself when Mae entered the factory. The old, busted down halls reeked of cigarette smoke. Mae's nose and throat itched just from breathing in the air. The factory reeked of Scriggins.
It also reeked of Levy. Levy had a very distinctive smell, like weed and mothballs. It was probably that old hoodie he always wore.
Mae made her way down the halls of the glass factory, towards the old factory floor. Creaking pipes and wind through broken windows were the only noises Mae could hear at first. As she drew closer to the busted-down doors of the factory floor, though, Mae could make out a heated conversation in progress.
"That is such bullshit, Levy! You don't know what you're talking about!"
Mae stopped. That was Steve's voice. He sounded angry, which was a little surprising. Mae didn't know if she'd ever actually heard Steve being genuinely angry before. He was an asshole, sure, but he was a smug asshole—not an angry one. The tone of Steve's voice was more than a little scary.
"Oh, that's rich, coming from you! What, are you an expert now?!"
That was Levy's voice. Mae had heard Levy's anger plenty of times before. Unlike Steve, Levy wasn't scary when he was angry—he was just kind of pathetic.
"I don't need to be an expert to know bullshit when I hear it, asshole!"
"Oh yeah, smart guy? Oh yeah? Well, if I'm wrong, prove it. Tell me what I've got wrong, huh? Go on, Scriggins—tell me. Tell us. Go on."
There was a pause in the argument. At first, Mae thought that they had stopped because they'd realized Mae was there. Steve and Levy couldn't see Mae from where she stood by the doorway to the factory floor, but it was possible they could hear her. Or maybe they could smell her—Mae was aware that she kind of had a funk going on.
The conversation soon picked up again, though, and Mae realized she'd been worried for nothing. Steve had just been gathering his thoughts, apparently.
"Okay, so, they take the cream… And they, like, ferment it and shit. With bacteria."
"Bacteria?!" Levy said incredulously. "That's bullshit, dude! That's such bullshit! They're not gonna put effing bacteria in their food! Nobody would buy it if it was loaded up with germs and shit!"
"People use bacteria to make food all the time, asshole! How do you think they make yogurt?!"
"They leave the milk out in the sun until it gets all hard!" Levy screeched, livid.
"GOD DAMN IT, LEVY, YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH!" Steve retrorted.
Mae stood there for a moment, confused. This conversation was interesting, but it wasn't what she'd been expecting to hear. Levy and Steve's argument wasn't telling Mae anything about Casey or Dudley. Instead, it was just raising a lot of questions for Mae, who was realizing that she didn't know nearly as much about dairy products as she pretended to.
The argument began to devolve into angry screaming. Mae couldn't make out what was being said with Levy and Steve both yelling over each other. And anyway, Mae hadn't come here just to listen to things—she'd come to say things, too. Mostly questions, but probably also a few classic burns regarding Steve and his Scrigginsness.
With the promise of classic burns in mind, Mae stepped into the glass factory's main floor.
Levy and Steve were both standing by the machine Mae had seen them at last time. The hole in the factory wall that Steve had been pillaging copper from was bigger, and a few smaller holes had been knocked into the baseboard. The holes were momentarily unattended—Steve had evidently stopped his 'side-job' to argue with Levy.
As Mae stepped into view, Steve and Levy's argument gradually died down. The two stopped talking and began glaring at Mar, their irritation plain on their faces. Normally, Mae felt anxious when people stared at her. When people like Steve and Levy were looking at her, though, Mae just felt kind of punchy.
"'Sup, assholes?" Mae asked. She turned her gaze over to one of the factory windows, where Beth Holstead was sitting in the windowsill. "Not you, Beth—you're kinda cool."
Beth, her eyes focused on her smartphone, wordlessly gave a thumbs-up in Mae's direction. Mae nodded in acknowledgement. She was starting to get to like Beth, if only a little bit.
"The hell're you doing here?" Steve asked irritably. He looked like he was still pretty worked up about his and Levy's dairy-based argument. Mae didn't really care enough to be tactful, though.
"I got questions, trash-boy," Mae said. She tried her best to sound as stern and serious as Aunt Molly did whenever she interrogated Mae. It wasn't working out too good—Aunt Mall Cop's voice was way deeper than Mae's. "Can we talk?"
Steve stared at Mae incredulously. Mae was used to that look; Steve used it a lot whenever Mae said something. It was like everything Mae said was baffling to Scriggins.
"What the goddamn hell makes you think we wanna talk to you?" Steve narrowed his eyes at Mae, as if trying to discern if she was serious or not. "We're not friends, Borowski. You and me have never liked each other. Why would you come in here to talk to us?"
Steve pinched the bridge of his… nose? Snout? Whatever you call it, he pinched it. "Is this just a thing you do? Do you just walk up to random people and start talking to them? God, Borowski, what is your deal?"
Mae tightened her hands into fists. Levy and Steve were both staring at her, expecting some kind of response. Mae knew that lashing out at them and insulting them wouldn't get Mae the answers she wanted. Unfortunately, she also couldn't really help herself.
"Look, I just have some stuff I wanna ask you! Could you, like, not be an asshole for once in your life?"
Steve's eyes widened, looking for the entire world like he was at a loss for words. A disbelieving scoff of a laugh escaped him.
"I'm the asshole?" Steve asked disbelievingly. "You can't even go two sentences without insulting me, and I'm the asshole? The hell is your problem, Borowski? God!"
Now it was Mae's turn to be baffled. "My problem? My problem? Why the hell wouldn't I have a problem with you? Back in school, you were a huge bully! You're, like, scum, and a criminal! You make everyone mis—"
"Stop."
Steve's voice carried a firm seriousness that Mae hadn't been prepared for. Scriggins was glaring at Mae, dead-serious. He spat the cigarette he'd had in his lips down onto the factory floor and stomped it out.
"Stop. Okay?" Steve raised a finger and pointed accusingly at Mae. "You do not get to call me out on my shit, Borowski. You don't get to act like you're better than me when you pretty much do the exact same shit I do."
Mae balked. What Steve was saying came from so far out of left field that it was crazy. For a moment, Mae didn't know exactly what to say to that.
"I'm nothing like you," Mae said sternly. "I was never a bully, or an asshole, or—"
Levy interrupted with a bitter laugh. "Oh my god, Borowski! Newsflash—pretty much everyone from school hated you because you were such a smartass to everyone! Like, you couldn't go a whole day without saying something to make you look like a jackass!"
Huh?
Mae felt like she'd stepped into an alternate dimension. She looked behind her just in case she was being recorded for some jerkhole's prank channel online. No assholes with smartphones were anywhere around, though. The only other person in the room was Beth, and she looked like she wasn't even paying attention.
"Okay," Mae said slowly, trying to get her thoughts in order. "Okay, fine. I say dumb shit. But I don't do it, like, intentionally! It just happens!"
Steve sighed angrily. "No. Right. Of course. It just happens. Everything you do just happens. You just stumble through life like a giant baby, bumping your head against shit, and it's not your fault 'cause you don't know any better. Oh my god."
Mae stared uncomprehendingly at Steve. What was he getting at here?
"And you've got a lotta nerve calling me a criminal, Borowski," Steve continued. "You and Gregg break shit and steal stuff for fun all the time. Do you think I'm doing this shit for fun? Do you think I'd be yanking shit out of the walls if I didn't need the cash?"
"That's… different," Mae argued, uncertain if it really was.
"Oh, yeah," Steve scoffed. "Yeah, it's different. 'Cause you and Gregg are so wacky, right? You're not criminals. You just do crimes. Totally different."
Steve rolled his eyes. "Y'know, I'm not friends with Gregg. But at least he doesn't go around acting like he's better than he is. At least I can have a conversation with him without him insulting me every ten seconds."
"That's just 'cause Gregg's too nice," Mae pointed out. "If he wasn't, he'd insult you all the time, just like everyone else."
Steve stared blankly at Mae, as if she'd somehow just proven his point.
"Whatever," Steve muttered. "God. Keep on acting like I'm the scum of the Earth, then. I don't care."
"You are the scum of the Earth," Mae argued. She felt like she'd gotten off-track a little, but was too invested in this argument to change topic. "You used to make everyone miserable, Steve! You locked a teacher in a closet over Longest Night break and drove donuts around people in the parking lot!"
Steve's glare turned a lot more hostile. He narrowed his eyes and folded his arms over his chest.
"Yeah?" Steve asked. "Well, I never put no one in the hospital."
Silence. No words came out of Mae's mouth when she tried to respond. She'd been struck silent by the low blow Steve had just dealt her. Mae spent a few seconds trying desperately to think of something clever and hurtful she could say back; something that would make him shut up. Finally, the words came to her.
"Eff you, Steve," Mae said with a scowl.
"Yeah, yeah. Eff me. Whatever." Steve began fishing around in his coat pockets and produced his packet of cigarettes. "Did you just come here to bitch, or what? Why are you even here?"
Mae blinked. Why was she here again? She'd kind of lost track of… well, everything. She must have had a reason to come and talk to Steve, right? God, what was it? It was on the tip of Mae's tongue.
Oh. Right. The Casey thing.
"Hey, a guy named Dudley said you were friends with Casey," Mae said, already forgetting what Steve had said to her. "What's up with that?"
All at once, the mood in the factory floor changed. Steve, who had been pulling a cigarette out of its packet with his teeth, stopped and looked up at Mae. He was immediately suspicious, and looked more than a little shocked.
Levy, meanwhile, looked absolutely terrified. The dry contempt in his face had been replaced with the most fearful look Mae had ever seen on the burnout. His eyes darted from Mae to the door she'd come in from, as if he expected Dudley to come marching in after her. His whole body looked like it was shaking.
And then there was Beth. Beth was still on her phone. Beth didn't give two shits about this conversation.
"… What else did Dudley say?" Steve asked cautiously. His anger towards Mae, momentarily forgotten, had given way to wariness. Mae couldn't deny that she enjoyed seeing Steve without any of his smugness.
"He said you and Casey stole from him," Mae said.
Steve considered this for a moment. He finished pulling his cigarette from its package and went to work lighting it. When he was done, he took a quick puff of smoke and stuffed his hands into his jacket pockets.
"Me and Levy didn't steal nothing," Steve said. "Your pal Casey is the one who stole the shit."
Mae winced. She didn't like hearing Steve of all people talking about Casey. She liked him accusing Casey of theft even less. Unfortunately, Mae couldn't voice her displeasure if she wanted to get more information. She would have to play nice…
Or at least as nice as possible for Mae Borowski.
"… What did Casey steal?" Mae asked.
Silence. Levy had begun pacing back and forth, his arms hugged close to his body.
Steve narrowed his eyes at Borowski. For once, though, Mae could tell that he wasn't glaring at her out of contempt. Steve had the look of a man who was being asked very personal information.
"That's none of your business," Steve growled.
Mae scoffed at that. "Yeah, well, this Dudley guy's made it my business. The other day, he barged in on me and my friends at band practice so he could, like, interrogate us."
Steve's eyes widened in surprise. "Dudley's been asking about this?!"
Beth looked up from her phone. "You guys are in a band?"
Mae nodded to both of the questions. "Yeah. Me, Gregg, Bea, and Angus get together to play music. Sometimes Germ shows up to watch us."
Beth nodded slowly, as if finally understanding something. "Oh, right. I like that Germ kid. He's cute, in, like, a virgin street urchin way."
Mae didn't know what to say to that. Instead, she looked back in Steve's direction. Scriggins had pulled his cigarette from his lips. He was holding it in his left hand and staring downwards with a concerned expression on his face.
"Shit," Steve muttered. "Shit, this is bad. Shit, shit, shit."
Levy began talking to himself in a high-pitched, panicked whisper. "We're dead. We're so dead. We're dead and we're gonna have our bodies dumped in Mulvay."
Okay, this was getting ridiculous. Mae threw her hands up in frustration.
"Will someone please explain to me what's going on here?!"
Steve looked up and glared angrily at Mae. Apparently, he was pissed off about his brooding getting interrupted.
"Your friend effed us up the ass, Borowski—that's what's going on." Steve placed his cigarette back between his lips. The tip glowed red for a moment before Steve continued.
"Him and Levy had a business arrangement, okay? Casey gets the product form his cousin, delivers it to Levy, and Levy sells it. The money gets split between all them, plus the people Dudley works for."
Mae nodded slowly, trying to look like she was following all of this.
"But then shit goes downhill," Steve continued. "Casey's cousin died. His trailer caught fire—it was real nasty, apparently. So now there's no new product. And Casey, I guess, is starting to get scared. So what's Hartley do? He takes the product, takes the money, takes everything and splits town. And now Levy and me gotta deal with the mess."
The factory floor fell quiet. Steve was huffing angrily on his cigarette. Levy was still pacing around. Beth had returned her focus to her phone.
Mae tried to put together what Steve had just said. 'Product' meant drugs, right? Mae knew that much. So, okay, Casey had been involved in drugs. That wasn't great to hear. And as much as Mae wanted to say it wasn't true, it was hard to imagine Steve was lying with how distressed he clearly was.
Had Casey really stolen a bunch of drug stuff? If he did, was that a bad thing? After all, he'd been stealing from criminals. Mae wasn't really sure how to feel about that. Maybe it wasn't a good or bad thing. Maybe it was just a thing.
But there was one thing Mae was certain about: Casey hadn't taken the stuff and left town. Casey had never left town at all. The stuff was probably still in Possum Springs.
And if Steve and Levy were really in trouble, then wouldn't telling them that be doing the right thing?
…
"Well, this was real interesting, but I gotta go," Mae said. "I've gotta go do literally anything else."
Steve shot an annoyed glare at Mae, but she was already turning around to leave. He muttered something under his breath, but Mae ignored him as she marched towards the doors of the factory floor. The smell of cigarette smoke was starting to get to her, and she wanted to get away from the Scriggins Gang as soon as possible.
What had the point of all that been? Mae guessed that her questions had been answered, but she was having trouble thinking about what she'd learned. Mostly, Mae was stuck on the stuff that Steve had said. And the stuff Levy had said.
Not so much the stuff Beth had said. She'd mostly just looked at her phone and compared Germ to a Victorian homeless child. Mae guessed that not everyone knew Germ had, like, an actual house. Even Gregg had apparently thought that Germ had lived in a tree.
Mae stopped. She'd made her way to the glass factory's entrance when a thought occurred to her. It was like a bolt out of the blue—a sudden revelation that arose from seemingly unrelated thoughts.
But when Mae recalled what Gregg had said about Germ living in a tree, she remembered something.
Casey had had a treehouse, hadn't he? It hadn't been a very good treehouse; kind of just a bunch of shitty wood in the vague shape of a cube. It had sat in an ugly, misshapen tree that stood on the very edge of Casey's backyard.
An ugly, misshapen, weird tree.
It was a bit of a leap, Mae was aware of that. But as her mind drifted back to the letter Casey had left for Gregg, she became more and more certain of one thing:
The lockbox was in Casey's backyard.
