Someone

The girl, Anna, never came to the office. I was there to tell my side of what happened and that as much as I was annoyed with Mick I didn’t want to throw him into detention as he already would have to face the verbal firing squad of Coach Livingstone, the football coach who looked like Hulk Hogan’s brother. I kind of wanted to be near the locker room to hear the screams—as Coach Livingstone’s voice was known to break past three hundred and ten decibels. It was best to hear it from afar through the grapevine.
I stepped out of the office and looked up and down the hallway, thinking I saw her. But I saw her in anyone that matched her clothes and hair color. I knew she wasn’t a ghost or a figment of my imitation because figments couldn’t bring down a linebacker like a matador. Tragically, since my school had a gigantic student population, the odds of finding her without going on a room-by-room search would be impossible. I only had my hope that maybe she would return to the scene of the crime again tomorrow for round two.
I walked to my locker and grabbed books for my next class and absentmindedly planned out the future romance that would occur if I could find her again. I wanted to shake off those dreams as it was probably for the best if I never saw her again as Mick would seek revenge and I was sure my car, or myself, would be the proverbial damsel in distress to lure her out for a death match.
Fifth period was English with Mrs. “J”, with her real name being something no one could pronounce, Jónsdóttir. My seat was on the far side, near the windows, so if I was late to class I would get to take the long walk of shame and parade myself to my desk.
Mrs. J called role but stopped abruptly as there was a knock on the door.
“Yes?” Her voice boomed towards the door. Mrs. J’s voice was almost on par with Coach Livingstone. The door opened and a dark-skinned guy in a white t-shirt, jeans and a backpack stepped in. His hair was cut short, almost entirely shaved-off. The questions were in everybody’s eyes: a military school reject, a foreign exchange student of some sort, or someone who had lost a bet? Perhaps he had a brother who liked to torture his siblings.
“Name?”
“Andrew Joel,” he replied as he stepped into the room.
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Joel. How’s your knowledge on “The Hobbit?”
“Where there's life there's hope,” he replied.
Mrs. J’s expression changed from her normal dour expression to almost into a smile. Almost, because it was rumored that if she ever smiled her face would shatter into a million pieces.
“Take a desk next to Mr. Robison, please.”
He nodded to Mrs. J and to everyone who looked back—which was pretty much all of us—at him. Everyone, me included, were judging the book by its cover. Andrew took the desk next to me as Mrs. J stood up and handed over our monstrosity of a textbook along with a copy of the “The Hobbit” that was so tattered one would assume it too had been carried from a cave in Middle Earth.
Andrew picked the novel up and quickly flipped through the pages.
“How far are we into this?” He asked me.
“Two chapters in.”
“Cool.”
Andrew’s face looked a bit familiar to me, but, as I said I had been seeing Anna’s face in everyone that had the look. I mean, he was wearing white. I turned back to my desk to avoid looking too long. Andrew unzipped his backpack and took out a notebook and a pencil.
I tried to read the book. I really tried but the lunchroom scenario replayed in my head like a highlight reel. I tried to stitch together a multi-camera view of the action and each time my thoughts concentrated on her face. If only I had a camera to take a picture. It would have won a Pulitzer.
At the sound of the bell, the rest of the class evacuated the room, possibly to avoid Mrs. J from assigning another chapter before we finished discussing the current one.
Andrew methodically placed his notebook, pencils and books into his backpack. I decided I’d try to be friendly. Talking to him again could go three ways: we’d get a long in a quasi-friend status; he would join up with Mick; or Andrew could become the new Mick in my life. I already had one, and I didn’t want another. I took a deep breath.
“Where are you from, Andy? Do you prefer Andrew?”
“I wish it wasn’t either, but I’m stuck with it. Andy’s cool. I’m from Georgia.”
“Land of peaches.”
“My mama makes a killer peach cobbler,” he replied with a sparkle in his eyes. “The flavor never stops coming.”
“She’s that good a cook?”
“She could teach Julia Childs everything.”
I had no idea who that was.
“Truth be told, she’s at bit too good.”
“Too good?” I asked as we walked into the crowded hall.
“She makes these grand dinners because she used to work in this hotel as a chef and so every night it’s something grand. What I’d give to just have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich someday. Man, I am so glad my little sister ain’t around to hear me say that. She’d tattle all the way home.”
“Siblings do that.”
“Tell me about it.”
I didn’t give in and talk about my older brother in college or my younger sister in junior high. It was best to just let him talk.
“But ya gotta care about them.”
“Even though sometimes you’d want to kill them,” I replied.
“Ain’t that the truth,” Andrew said as we moved over to his locker. “They got me in boonies to my next class, don’t’ they?”
“Who’s your next class?”
“Uhh, a Mrs. Perry,” Andrew said as he opened his locker.
“Yeah, you’ve gonna have to walk down the hall to the second staircase to the third floor.”
“What? No elevator?”
“AC doesn’t work a lot of days either,” I replied.
“Man, why did we have to move here? Parents,” Andrew said with a sigh and looked down the hall. “Move closer to the wall in five seconds.”
“What?”
“Move. Now!”
I took a sidestep as a rushing breeze rushed by my neck. I looked to see Mick and his friends. He looked back in amazement for a second but then brushed me off with a wave and kept on walking.
“Guy thinks the sun comes up just to hear him crow. I hate bullies.”
My mind went back to the lunchroom to when Anna said the same thing.
“Well,” Andrew replied as he closed the locker door, guess I’m gonna have to run til I’m plumb out. “Catch you later, Greg.”
“Yeah, see you,” I walked across the hall but stopped in the middle and looked to where Andrew was at before he turned the corner.
How did he know my name?

After school was over, I stood in the parking space where I parked my car. I stood exactly where I parked my car eight hours earlier to find an empty space waiting for me.

“Dammit, Mick,” I muttered under my breath and tried to stay calm. He was probably watching me from afar, busting up in a fit of laughter at my expense. He was like a Teflon pan for as much as he was dead to rights guilty over stealing my car, the charges would never stick.
He actually found some goons to move my car to points unknown. I didn’t want to ride the bus, much less walk in the chill of the morning.

I took a deep breath, looked to street beyond the parking lot and took the first step in my three-mile trek to get home. I hadn’t even taken a full step when a strange looking car stopped in front of me. The windows were blacked out and the body was like something from Star Trek. I didn’t hear any noise from the engine. The window rolled down.

“Get in.”

Seeing the driver, I ran in front of the car and opened the passenger side door.

The interior was white and black strange blue lights on the steering wheel and dashboard. I laid my backpack in the backseat, sat down and closed the door.

“Mick took your car,” Andy said as we drove out of the parking lot.

“Do you know where?”

“No, sorry, I only heard about it.”

“What does he have against me?”

“Good question. Sometimes there’s no answer and people are just plain ugly.”

“That describes Mick.”

“I can give you a ride home. Just have to pick up my sister.”

I nodded as Andy accelerated to the point the police would want to talk to us—assuming they could catch up. The town blazed as Andy gracefully navigated past cars and turns.

“You got a pretty nice car.”

“It gets me where I need to go.”

“Can’t say the same for mine. If I can get it back from Mick it will probably be in pieces.”

Andy nodded.

“One day I’m going to get a mustang.”

“My Pa had one, it was a P-51 model. He hated it but it got him where he needed to go.”

It was then my turn to nod. I could only imagine myself behind the wheel of something from the 50’s. The power. The coolness. The literal chick magnet.

Andy pulled over to the sidewalk in front of a school that was almost as large school and an olive-skinned girl walked over to the car.

“Three thing you gotta know.”

“Okay.”

“Her name is Wendy, she’s annoying, and will use anything you say against you…even after an eternity.”

The back door opened, and Wendy stepped in.

“Who’s your friend?” She asked while throwing bag across the seat.

“Maybe he’s an enemy,” Andy replied with a frown.

“Sounds like something you’d do.”

“You wanna walk?” Andy asked.

Wendy shrugged as she closed the door and looked at me.

“Did my brother tell you all about me?”

I shook my head as Andy signaled to get back onto the road.

“Yep. Name’s Wendy Jean Joel and I am annoying.”

“You can say that again,” Andy replied. “So, where to, Greg?”

“We need to get back onto the main road.”

“You got it.”

“Are you in the same classes as Andy?” Wendy asked as she sat up too far for any seatbelt to be effective.

“One of them.”

“Something happen to ya?”

“He’s fine, Wendy. I’m giving him a ride home.”

“Doncha’ have a car?”

“It has a few issues,” I replied.

“It ain’t the only thing that does.”

Andy scowled at Wendy’s reflection in the rearview mirror.

I looked out the window and saw my car.

“Andy! Stop the car. I see my bug.”

Andy slowed down and turned the corner.

I knew it was my car due to the license plate and the overall condition of it as it sat on the dirt to side of a used car lot, but it looked more like a junkyard.

I got out of Andy’s car and to the lot. I looked inside of the car and then fished inside my pocket for my keys.

“Can I help you?” An old, grizzled man with oil-stained hands asked as he sauntered over.

“Yeah, where did you get this car?”

“It was dropped off a few hours ago,” the man replied with a voice of not just annoyed but more on the lines of ‘why are ya bothering me about this piece of junk?’ annoyed.

“Well, um, it was brought it by mistake.”

“Mistake?”

“It was stolen,” Andy replied as he walked up with Wendy in tow.

“Stolen? The guy who brought it by said someone would come by saying that.”

“What did the guy look like?” Andy asked as looked over at me.

“Not sure,” the man said with a shrug. “It was a group of them and, anyway, it’s done and over. Now, unless you can prove to me that it’s your car…”

I walked to the front door and placed my key in the lock, or at least I tried to as the key would not fit. I shook my head and smiled a nervous smile before running to the other side and placing my key in. The key fit but the door wouldn’t open. “The key doesn’t fit.”

“The locks have been tampered with,” Andy said with a glare to the man.

“I think the three of you are just trying to steal this car.”

“Why would we want to take this car if it didn’t belong to my friend? It’s so ugly it would turn sweet milk to clabber. There’s a lot more better rides here.”

Andy was right, so I dismissed what I assumed was a verbal assault on my car.

“That’s it. I just about have the mind to kick your asses out of here!”

Wendy dug a line into the dirt with her feet in front of her. “Please step over this line and we’ll find out,” she challenged.

“Mister, this car belongs to my friend. It was stolen by an incredible oaf and some morons. Can he have it back, please,” Andy said with pleading eyes.

“Look, the key doesn’t fit. Leave or I’ll call the police. I’m busy here.”

Andy’s eyes turned to threatening stare. “Mister, don't piss on my leg and tell me it's rainin'”

“Leave! Now!”

Andy looked at me and I nodded my head in defeat.

“I’m serious, step across the line,” Wendy stood her ground. I kind of wanted to see exactly what she could do against a huge man who dwarfed all of us.

“Let’s go, Wendy!” Andy ordered.

“Fine,” she replied and walked with us.

“What am I gonna do? If I can’t get it back.”

“I can get your car back,” Andy said as he walked to the other side of his car. “My Pa’s good at handling things like this.”

“Against the guy who could pile drive Andre the Giant?"

“He’s good at diplomacy and I’m sure he can get your car back for you.”

“Okay,” I said, with a glimmer of hope in my heart that I wouldn’t have to explain to my parents about happened and wouldn’t have to look at Cheshire Cat grin on Mick’s face until graduation.

“Just let Mama talk with him,” Wendy suggested as we got back into the car.

“That's my plan B,” Andy replied as he started the engine.

“My folks may be able to help get your car back.”

“I’d like to hope so,” I replied, for as much as I wanted to go and tell my parents about the theft of my car I did not want to tell them, pending any disaster that would occur from allowing the car to be stolen.

“Don’t worry too much about it. It’s just a car.”

“Yeah, I know, but it’s like your freedom gets cut away from you and you can’t do the things you want to.”

“I know the feeling,” Andy mused as we drove a little bit out of town to a field with grass and rocks.

Wendy sat in the back seat with a mischievous grin. Andy apparently noticed.

“Don’t you say a word to Mama or Papa.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Wendy replied.

“Like I said, siblings.”

We drove up to an enormous two-story house with a large garage attached to the side. The grass was well-manicured with bushes flanking a pathway up to a large front porch that included a swing.

“You got a maid?” I asked.

“That’s Wendy’s afterschool job.”

Wendy stuck her tongue our as Andy opened the driver’s side door and stepped out. She handed my backpack over the seat to me and then threw Andy’s over the seat and out the door.

Andy shook his head and picked up the backpack.

I got out of the car and looked around even further. The house looked relatively new. I could only think his family must be wealthy, but he didn’t want others to know as maybe they would think different of him. I admit, I couldn’t think anything different of him because I didn’t even really know him.

Wendy opened the front door, turned to face us and smiled.

“Don’t!” Andy demanded.

“Mama! This is Andy’s friend Greg, and his car was stolen by some guys and is now being held by some guy at a junkyard!”

“Wendy!” Andy shouted as Wendy took her cue to run up the stairs.

Andy’s mother took a long look at me, like she was looking into my soul. “Hello, Greg.”

“Hello.”

“You may call me Mrs. Joel or ma’am.”

“Yes ma’am,” I replied as I took a small gulp.

“So, a stolen car?” Mrs. Joel asked as she looked at Andy.

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s their fault they weren't raised right.”

Mrs. Joel nodded.

“And they took it to a junkyard.”

“Used car dealer,” I added.

“Same thing,” Andy replied as Mrs. Joel nodded again.

I looked around the large living room which had art on the walls along with shelves of books.

“We’ll talk with your father once he gets in.”

“I’ll take Greg on a tour of the house.” Andy turned to me, “sound good?”

“Sure, I replied as we made our way to the stairs.

I climbed up with my brain soaking in everything: the light browns on tans on the walls with slight accents of colors from potted plants, picture frames, and a small chandelier above the top landing. The upstairs turned and overlooked the living room, revealing a few other rooms that were out of my view earlier: an elaborate kitchen, a dining room with a table that was longer than two of my cars, and what looked like a study, or at least that’s what I assumed at the time.

“In here,” Andy said as we reached a door and he opened it to a large, but sparse room. There was a bed in the corner with a red comforter and matching pillowcases, a bookcase and a desk. In the other corner there was a large door that may have led to a closet or a bathroom.

“Take a seat,” Andy said as he pulled an elaborate chair out from the even more elaborate desk. I went ahead and sat down as Andy stepped a few feet away.

“So, when your dad comes home we can solve the mystery of how we’re going to get my car back?”

“Yep,” Andy stated as walked to the large door. “Be right back.”

And with that, he closed the door.

I looked around the room again, now noticing the bed had changed to a white comforter and white pillowcases.

“That wasn’t like that before,” I whispered to myself.

I was perplexed by Andy’s words ‘a mystery you’ve been wondering about’. Nothing came to mind except my car and now the bed. I looked back to the door Andy went through to see it had changed again. “I must be dreaming. Someone hit me,” I said to myself.

“Hey, Andy. There’s another mystery I want to ask you about.”

“Shoot.”

“There was this girl earlier today in the lunchroom. She has the same last name as you, I thought maybe she was your sister.”

“Only have one sister, thank God,” came the reply from behind the door.

“She put Mick down a few pegs,” I said as I walked to to the bedroom door and tried to think back to how she looked. I couldn’t see her face in my mind’s eye. I could see everything about her except a clear image of her face. “Do you want to help me find her?” I asked as the door opened behind me.

I turned to see the girl from school.

“Anna?”

“Yes.”

I didn’t feel uneasy or had the urge to run out of that room and the house in shock.

Her face reappeared in my memory of Anna giving Mick an ego-bruising. Here she was, in front of me and in a room with a closed door.

“So, not Andy?” I asked as I stepped towards her.

“That’s a tale in of itself,” she said as she stepped forward and took my hands.

“I’d like to hear it.”

“Well, I--”

The door swung open, and Wendy took a step in. “Papa and Mama want to talk to you,” she said in a sing-song voice. “I think you’re in trouble.”

“You’re fixin’ to be the one in trouble, Wendy!”

“Anna Renee Joel!” A booming voice filled the house.

“Your dad?” I asked, trying to not sound like I was terrified.

“I think he’ll like you,” Anna replied with a smile