p-q
work fast and type fast and I'm nearly over!
p-q
"Cynthia was a popular girl. She liked the limelight. She lived for it. A little proud, maybe, but that was okay. She knew it, and utilised it like a great chef in a super modern kitchen. School fundraisings were her favourite tools of trade. Our school never knew want of funds, thanks to her, really."
It was Aaron's turn to do the talking. I leant forward in my seat, Josef sank in his. I wanted to know how close my deductions were to the truth.
After looking up Aaron's records in the school, I had asked Sinclair to confiscate another document Josef did not have in that pile of documents he had collected for me. It was the hospital admission tables. Police had it if the patients entered in any hospital were in connection with ongoing cases. Addresses, names, but of course they were privy only to those who had access to the system, namely, my man Sinclair. After I found that particular date, everything else was as easy as reading.
Rodney Alastair Duggan, aka Roddy to his friends, was admitted to a hospital in August 1988. It was not mentioned in the report why he was admitted, but the date was just as good as any. Aaron was arrested in the same date, 20 August 1988.
The document had several attachments. They were doctor reports, and judging from the look of the lessening scribbles as the days went by, Roddy must have healed up nicely. One scribble had caught my eyes:
Patient is delirious. Calls out a name – Ron?
It did not take a long stretch of imagination to associate that name to Aaron's. Then a question popped into my head:
If Roddy was seriously injured by Ron, why would he call out the name of his assailant when he was out of it? The answer did not make much sense back then. I carried this question in my head until yesterday, when Josef confessed to setting me up with this. Only then the question had a valid answer. And now I was waiting for the confirmation of the truth.
Aaron paused a moment in his reverie. He ran a hand through his hair – a nervous habit since his hair was securely locked in place by that piece of rawhide. He was describing his school days; something I had no point in focusing because what I really wanted to know was how the misunderstanding came to happen.
"It was the finals. Roddy was in the team, and so was I. I decided to tell him after the game was over, win or lose. If the school won, then it was a bonus. If the school didn't, well, I thought at least I tried. But it would be so much better to tell him amidst that celebration. I gave everything I had to the game that day. I was doing everything right – made right passes, received and scored, and physical pain seemed to melt into the air. I focused on Roddy, gave him a smirk, thumbs up, and when it was all over, I realised that our school had broken the record for the highest points ever during the finals. In other words, we won.
"Everyone was jumping, tumbling, hugging, cheering. It was a picture perfect finish for a marvellous game day. Like something out of a movie. The cheerleaders were doing their thing – god, I can still remember their routines."
Josef's eyelids flickered, as if an automaton coming back to life. Then a smile appeared. "You – you have that gift, don't you?"
Aaron shook his head, not comprehending. "I don't get you."
"Your gift is sharp memory, almost photographic. You can remember everything you see the instant it passed your two corneas." He turned to the window. "This is why you can incorporate such intricate designs into your cake designs. And this is why you can remember everything that happened years ago like it was yesterday."
I whistled. "That happens a lot?" I asked Josef.
"No, only rarely," Josef said, sinking back into his chair. "Heck, maybe what's happening to you is a gift."
"What's happening to me? What do you mean by that?"
"Chasing criminals, helping people. You know, you do much better than the rest of your pack."
Now he's keeping tab of my successes? That's new. Anyway, back to Aaron. "With your memory, Aaron, it won't be a problem to tell me what happened then."
Aaron took a deep breath. Sifting through that much of memory had to be taxing even for a brain to keep up, and it was starting to show. His forehead began to bead with sweat.
"We were coming into the lockers. I joined in the team as they shouted, screamed and passed the trophy around. Coach Jeffries said a few words and told us to celebrate safely before asking us to take a bath. I joined in some more, then turned to take off my sporting gears while the rest of the team were still celebrating. My locker was a ways from where they were celebrating. There was a rustle and Roddy was beside me."
Rodney Duggan was not one would call handsome. Charming with an edge and self-confident, that was the correct description. His nose was a little off, his front tooth was chipped, and his hair was the colour of a mousy red. But somehow altogether, Rodney Duggan was considered as popular. Probably because of that aura of a heavy-duty athlete he had around him. And also the fact that his parents were the owners of the Duggan Corporations.
"He smiled and told me what a game we played today. I nodded and smiled. Told him he was not half bad, too. He punched me in the shoulders. We always do that whenever we mean good things. I was then prepared to tell him what I always wanted to – I had this script all prepared in my head, you know – when suddenly my vision darkened and I felt another set of lips on mine."
Aaron smiled. Really smiled. In that darkened room, his smile was like the brightest moonlight beaming down from a midsummer sky. It had to be so special for him. I tried to imagine that, and the closest I could come to was maybe when Coraline and I were really in love and every kiss burnt and tortured, yet we wanted more of it.
"It lasted an eternity – always, in my head – though it actually was half a minute only. When we parted, there was no denying of what had just happened. Roddy was looking half-stupefied, half-smiling. I had no idea how I looked like, but then it didn't matter. It happened. He was smiling, I was smiling... stupidly, maybe. Then I asked him:
"'What was that?'
"He shrugged and shook his head. 'I don't know, man,' he said, 'but sure would like to do that again with you.' He did that again – kissed me. The second time was slower, gentler. I don't know if you can say it was gentle – maybe still rough for a girl, but well, yeah..."
Aaron's voice petered down to nothingness. That smile was still playing on his face, though. Josef was still in his seat. I tried to think of something to say to Aaron so that he may continue. This – territory of love was foreign to me. But could Shakespeare be right, that all is fair in love and war?
I recalled the court transcripts. There was something about where Rodney and Aaron were found fighting. "In the court testimonials, Roddy was found outside in the parking lot. I take it that the fight did not happen there, in the locker room?"
The smile waned, then disappeared completely. "No, it wasn't there. We were prudent enough to stop ourselves. But knowing what we knew then, we could barely contain ourselves. We waited for the rest of the team to come out, then we walked out together. I planned for us to crash in my place where we would have more privacy, and Roddy agreed to that, even if it meant he would have to cancel a few plans he had, or dates. I called my date to cancel – her name was Elaine Rogers, by the way – and that was that. We walked together to the parking lot where he parked his ride when out of nowhere Cynthia came running towards us."
The next events, I could reconstruct it slowly in my mind. I could see how Cynthia was confused when Roddy said that their date was cancelled. And somehow, during that exchange, Cynthia saw what Roddy and Aaron tried to hide from everyone else – maybe some sort of body language that was too obvious, and she could have lost it then and there. But what could Cynthia, a cheerleader, have used to inflict such a potentially deadly force to a heavy-duty athlete like Roddy?
"To this day I couldn't figure out how Cynthia knew. What I remembered, after Roddy told her off, he turned his back to her, and suddenly I heard her screaming. There was this sickening thud, and Roddy's eyes became white, and fell forward on me. I grabbed him to stop him from falling further. Under the lights I saw the back of Roddy's head bleeding, there was this huge gash, blood was coming out profusely..."
Aaron covered his face. "I still cannot shake that image. That's one thing I don't like to recall ever again, but hell, it sticks, it always turns up like a bad penny. Sometimes when I'm trying to concentrate, that image comes out and everything just goes out of the window."
"What did she use, Aaron?" I asked him.
"I didn't know back then," Aaron replied, and saw my disappointment. "But afterwards, when I was interrogated, they said they found a brick, chockfull of my fingerprints, lying around the same area where it happened. I guessed that was the thing she used."
"She was smart, wasn't she?" Josef suddenly interjected. "Did she plead to you that this was an accident, that she did that out of anger, that it was a mistake?" Aaron nodded. Josef fell silent again as he digested this. Then his phone rang. "Oh, I have to answer this." He went outside.
"She thinks on her feet," I said, watching Josef talk to the phone. "Your fingerprints were planted there voluntarily, I assume. She also asked you to punch him anywhere on his body so that it would look genuine."
"I didn't know what I was thinking back then," Aaron said, his voice small and hurt. He stared down at his hands, now clenched in impressive fists. "I thought I was protecting Cynthia, and also Roddy. I mean, he was a school athlete, respected by all, but gay? I didn't think anyone had enough courage to swallow that. And Cynthia, well, she had more chances than I did back then in school. I mean, I only depended on my sports to get to college, but she had more – she had the looks and the brain."
"Which she evidently knows how to use, then and now," Josef said as he entered the room. "So, Mick, satisfied now? You know it's almost four."
I went over my head, looking for unanswered questions. There weren't any, not at this point, anyway. "Is it okay if I drop in now and then to visit? Maybe I have an order next time."
Aaron nodded. "I love company."
Fifteen minutes later, Josef dropped me off in front of my building. "You know what, Josef," I said as I was exiting, "this really felt like a date,"
"Yeah, and I'm so glad it didn't end with a goodnight kiss – you need to shave first." He grinned. That row of white teeth shone briefly. "So, where do you go from here? Do you call her or let it be?"
I shrugged. I now knew everything there was to know about the whole mess. I should very well leave it be. Let sleeping dogs lie. But there is that small matter about justice. Yes, justice. It just doesn't balance out right.
"I hate that look on your face right now," I heard Josef say as he revved up the engine. "Call me tonight. I may have something for you."
He was gone, then. This really felt like an anticlimax. It sucked.
p-q
To be continued as soon as possible!
