Mall security was called but they allowed us to leave as soon as Hank tried to attack Anna. It was not a pretty site with him staggering and swearing, looking as if he was acting a scene from “Dawn of the Dead”, complete with the blood effects. I looked at the MACS, with Coleen shying away from everyone while Megan never kept her eyes off of us. Her glare was icy. I felt like we killed her dog or something—I always suspected Hank had done that a few yers ago.
“I don’t regret doing that. I’m saddened ‘bout what he said.”
“What did he say, Anna?”
“Just some bad stuff, Wendy, like mama used to talk about.”
Wendy nodded as we reached the car and got back in for the trip back to Papillon
“Anna met this guy a few years ago and he was mean to her.”
“Mean?” Anna scoffed. “He was a murderer.”
“Really?” I asked.
“Yeah. He killed a lonely boy who only wanted to be his real self. Once he found a new life; they took it away.”
I wondered if the Joels were part of witness protection. That would explain their house: the government could build it quickly and quietly and they could hide in plain site in a small town in the middle of the country.
“He didn’t deserve to die like that,” Anna mused as she adjusted her mirrors, then turned the key.
“Mama and Papa have to know what happened.”
“I know. I know. I don’t want to think what would happen if that yokel walked up to our house.”
Would Hank attempt to do that by himself or would he get his friends involved? I didn’t want to think they would wreck their house hurt them in some act of revenge.
“Papa would be happier than a dog at a butcher shop.”
“Mama won’t.”
“Oh, mama would have done the same thing I did, maybe more.”
“Do you think his parents will come to your house?”
“Probably, and I think mister brawn for lack of brain’s gonna try something stupid with some friends. That type always does.” Anna replied.
My thoughts went back to the days of my David vs Goliath experience with the car and a rock.
We drove back to town with Anna talking about the places they had lived: London, Atlanta, Montgomery and now Papillion. I still thought they were a part of some governmental protection plan or maybe Mr. Joel was a secret agent who moved throughout the country, keeping his family safe in a house with multiple secret passageways. Maybe there was an underground lair of some sort where he had meetings with a shadowy committee who knew everything about the area he was going to. I mean, he knew all about the Pounders and the Stephensons. Did Wendy and Anna know their father was a master of espionage or were they unaware of his real job?

We drove up the slight hill to the driveway to see their parents sitting on a porch swing I didn’t recall had been there.
“Looks like we’re going to have to explain a few things,” Anna commented as Mr Joel stood up and walked to the edge of the steps.
“We?” Wendy asked.
“I’ll do the talking.”
“All yours. I’ll stay in the car.”
“I need you to back me up. Are you with me, Jeff?”
I nodded as I unlocked the door.
“Had a little scuffle and the plaza, did we?” Mr. Joel asked as he looked over our heads and into the distance.
“He had it coming, Papa.”
“There were better ways to handle it, Anna Renee Joel.”
“Yes sir.”
“Anyone really hurt?”
“Just an ego.”
“His parents will want to talk with us,” Mrs. Joel said.
“As they should, dear. As they should. I do love these neighborhood parties. We need to host one.”
“Do I have to come?” Wendy asked.
“Of course you do, Wendy. You’re my back-up.”
I darted my eyes between all of then as they continued to talk about meeting up with Hank and Coleen’s parents.
“The party cannot start without us. Shall we go?” Mr Joel with a twinkle in his eyes. “We’ll take your car, dear,” he commented to his wife as he skipped down the steps and went to the barn-like structure net to the house. The large door opened, and he went inside.
“I still think he deserved it.”
“He probably did, Anna Renee,” her mom replied as she walked in the direction of the barn.
“You may wan to cover your ears,” Wendy whispered as she stood next to me.
I was about to ask what she meant when a loud rumbling filled the air and a car that looked like it came out of a gangster movie. It was a pristine black body car with rear doors that opened in a reverse way from any car I had ever seen on the road.
Miss Joel stepped into the front passenger seat as the three of us climbed in the past, with me in the middle of the sisters. Mr. Joel revved the engine, and we took off down the small hill and onto the road so fast I couldn’t figure out how he managed to do it without throwing us all to the side of the car. I looked back but could no longer see the house through the trees and at the speed we were traveling we made it to the end of the block in seconds. Mr. Joel brought the car to a complete stop and then turned onto the road without looking either way.
The turn was just as fast as the one he made as we left the house, and the next left turn was just as swift as we turned onto my street. The car rumbled and roared until we reached yet another turn, but Mr. Joel slowed down this time and coasted to the side of the road in front of Colleen’s house. Someone looked out the living room curtains in the house. I assumed it was Colleen. Next thing I saw like the night before with the other neighbors with their whole family stepping out.
Mr. Joel got of out of the car and waited for all of us to join him before he took a step forward.
“No speaking unless you must, Anna, Wendy.”
“Our lips are sealed, Papa.”
“How about you, Jeffrey?”
“Yes sir.”
“Excellent.” Mr Joel replied as he turned to the approaching neighbors. “Mr. Benjamin Prat, Missus Sylvia and these must be your children, Henry and Colleen?”
The Pratts looked surprised, but their expressions changed into slight agitation.
“Apparently, your daughter and my son got into a bit of fight. A fight that almost got him arrested. Can you tell me what happened?” Mr. Prat’s eyes shot toward Anna.
“First off, Mr Prat, you have a splendid looking home, don’t they dear?”
“Very colorful,” Miss Joel replied.
I looked at the house and wondered what color they were looking at. The Prat’s house was brown except for the terra-cotta roof that was a slight orange.
“Oh, I am so, sorry, introductions are in order,” Mr. Joel put his hand out.
“I am not interested in getting to know you,” Mr. Prat replied as Hank stepped forward and I could see his nose looked broken and he had a slight limp.
“Very well,” Mr. Joel pocketed his hand and cleared his throat. “You, sir, have failed in your job to teach respect for others to your son.”
“Excuse me?” Mrs. Prat interjected.
“Your son lives up to his surname.”
“She attacked me!” Hank yelled. “Coming over to talk and put her hands all over me.”
“Was this before or after you verbally attacked her?” Miss Joel asked.
“Hank did not start this, she did!” Mrs Prat pointed a finger at Anna.
I looked to Colleen who shifted her posture multiple times. She didn’t want to there.
“Since you’re here, now, I think we should contact the police and have statements taken.”
“Yes, Benjamin, a caliber idea. We should indeed have the authorities here so they can hear what Hank said. What was it, lad, ah yes, “an actually cute nigger bitch.”
All eyes turned to Hank.
“I didn’t say that.”
“You then resorted to grabbing her breasts and laughing.”
“Hank!” Mrs. Pratt screamed.
“She was freaking me out, walking over to me and talking like we knew each other.”
“So, Benjamin, please call the police so they can settle this issue. Or, if you prefer, we can call it a draw between our children and allow the world to continue and hope everyone can live a better life.”
“I am on to you,” Mr Pratt yelled as he stuck a finger out and tapped against Mr. Joel.
Wendy turned to me and whispered, “not good.”
“Manners, Benjamin.”
“You are not going to talk your way out of this. Your children run wild all over, destroying property and hurting others.”
“Please tell me what property has been vandalized?” Miss Joel asked.
“That tree!” Mrs. Pratt pointed down the street. “That tree is over one hundred years old, and she was climbing in it.”
“And that tree,” Mr Joel replied as he looked up the road, “Is about fifty years. Is that tree okay to climb?”
“You are trying to change the subject.”
“Not at all, sir. I may ask if you obtained permission from the trees that make up your home?”
“Your daughter needs psychiatric help.”
“My daughter has seen more pain and misunderstanding than your boy will ever try to understand He’s afraid of the unknown. He fears people who are different than his reflection.”
There was an odd silence, and I could see the other families, the Stephensons and the Pounders.
“Do you parents know you’re with these people?”
I only nodded and then looked away from Mrs. Prat.
“We have reached an impasse,” Mr. Joel said with a sigh. “You so remind of a man I once knew named Richthofen. Nice chap, but he didn’t heed my words that it would be dangerous to go out that night.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Mr Prat exasperated.
“Pity. Then please identify with this: Teach you boy manners or someone may one day break more than his nose.”
“Are you threatening my family?”
“No, no, for you are doing such a bang-up good job of that yourself. Good day.”