Chapter Four
November 29, 1988
Diary, I am so scared right now, and it's my own fault. We were all outside playing in the backyard, and I got hungry. I went into the kitchen for a cookie, and Uncle Oscar was talking to Mom and Dad in the next room. We didn't know he was coming, but we never do. Well, they didn't know I was in there, and I swear I wasn't trying to spy on them, but I didn't go back outside, either, even though I know I should have. I wish I had.
Uncle Oscar was saying something about red nights or maybe knights. Dad swore, and he said Mom couldn't go because they would KILL HER! Then Mom said she should be the one to go (no, I don't know where) because she knew the nights or knights and Dad didn't. She said she could get in and back out before anyone knew she was even there, whatever that means. I got too scared then and went back outside. Nobody went with Uncle Oscar today, but Mom and Dad were both very quiet tonight.
Why would anyone hate my mom so much that they want to kill her? Does that mean Mom and Dad are criminals? If I ask about it, I'll get in trouble for listening. Diary, I just don't know what to do. I wish you could answer me back.
I can't fall asleep tonight, so I'm going to start reading the new book Dad just bought me. I'll have to sneak-read with my flashlight, but I can't lay here in bed and stare at the dark. It's too creepy. I'm scared enough already. Reading a good book always helps.
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The Red Knights were an American-based terror group, and the largest group I ever brought down on my own. We didn't know just how big they were until I was already inside (undercover) and I couldn't get word out at that point, so I just went ahead and got the job done. Took 'em all down – more than a dozen men – and secured every one of them until the wagons could pick them up. The trouble was, the monster wouldn't stay dead. It was like one of those freaks of nature – cut off a leg and it grows another one.
The Red Knights apparently never forgot about me, though; they were bound and determined that one of those new legs would exact their revenge.
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November 30, 1988
I'm sorry for getting you wet, Diary, but I just can't stop crying. I think Mom and Dad had a fight last night. My parents never fight – ever. It was really late, after midnight I think, and I was still awake, reading. That's how I heard them yelling. Now this morning, Dad wasn't at breakfast and Mom is pretending she's ok, but I can tell she really isn't. Since I've been working on using quote marks, I think I'll try writing down what I heard. That way, I can practice my writing and maybe it will all make sense when it's down on paper.
"Dammit, Jaime! They're baiting you, don't you see that?" (I have no idea what that means.)
"Of course they are! That's why I have to go!"
"Out of the question!"
"Oscar said"
"I don't care! I've always let Oscar send you anywhere he needed to, but not this time!"
"Let him? Excuse me?"
"You know what I mean. I won't have our kids growing up without a mother!"
"I can take care of this, Steve!"
"I said no!"
"Ok, so you go instead, and then what? They kill you on sight then come after me for not following directions! Bingo! Our kids have no parents at all!"
Then Dad said something I couldn't hear, Mom yelled his name and I heard the front door slam. Diary, I was wrong. It's all written down now, and I still don't understand.
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The only time Steve ever left in the middle of the night (and without hugging the kids goodbye) was when he insisted on being the one to go after the Red Knights. They were claiming they wanted to give themselves up and wanted to negotiate acceptable terms – with me. We knew they were lying, that it was all some kind of trap, but I figured that once I was in their midst I could take them all down again, bing-bang-boom – like a row of dominoes – but it didn't work out that way.
I was sure that Steve storming over there in a fit of macho crap would only make things worse, and I was right – almost. Things had already gotten much, much worse; we just didn't know it yet.
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