Furious Jones and the Assassin’s Secret (16 page)

The cop was just a customer. Thank goodness.

I walked up to the Second House and plugged in my new phone. It chirped to life. I pulled Emma's number out and dialed. No answer. I left her a message to call me and I explained I had to get a new phone.

I sat on my futon until 6:30 p.m. and then headed downstairs. Betty and the cop were gone. I sat out on the front porch and Mike pulled up in an old black Honda at about a quarter to seven.

“Sorry I'm late, dude.”

“No worries,” I said.

“Did you bring your suit?” Mike asked.

“Yeah.”

“Cool,” Mike said as he peeled away from the curb.

“So, Fin, are you a Yankees fan, being from New York and all?”

“No. I'm from the East Coast, but I've never actually lived in New York City itself. I'm a Twins fan.”

“Oh, man!” Mike slammed on the brakes. “Dude, you're gonna have to walk it. I can't be letting no Twinkies fan in my car.”

“Ah, let me guess—you're a White Sox guy?”

“Born and bred.”

“Sucks to be you this year,” I said.

Mike stepped on the gas again. “True that. Mauer smoked us right out of the playoffs.”

“Yes, he did.” I smiled.

“Did you see the game last night?”

“No. Betty doesn't have a TV.”

“That sucks. I'd die. But your boys took it to New York pretty good,” Mike said.

I thought about the Yankees and my grandpa. He was a huge Yankees fan. I thought about his funeral. I hoped someone took care of it. I hoped it was nice.

We sat in silence as Mike drove down Highway 20. We passed field after field of cows and horses. Mike turned off the highway about ten miles south of town. A giant waterfall and a sign welcomed us to The Territories. Golf courses lined both sides of the road.

“Nice,” I said.

“Yeah, I like it here. We vacationed up here a couple of times when I was a kid,” Mike said. “After my parents got divorced, my mom wanted to get out of Chicago and live in the country. I like it all right, but Trish has never really accepted it.”

“The divorce or Galena?” I asked.

“Oh, she accepted the divorce. It's Galena she hates.”

“I think I could get used to it. It's gorgeous.”

“We get a lot of celebrities up here in the summer. Michael Jordan's got a place here. But it's dead all winter. After the leaves fall, that's it for the year. There's just a handful of people that live out here year-round.”

Mike pulled up to a large gate and pushed a button on the driver's-side visor.

“This is your house?”

“
Mi casa es su casa.
”

“I told you, I took French and Italian,” I said.

Mike pulled in and parked next to a red beat-up Ford with an Illinois license plate that read
SAME2U
.

“Your sister's car?”

“How did you ever guess?”

As we walked inside, Mike yelled, “I'm home.”

“Nice place,” I said.

“Thanks. Make yourself at home. I'm just going to grab my suit and some towels.”

I walked around looking at photos of Trish and Mike over the years.

“Fin, did you eat yet?” Mike called from down the hall.

“Not really,” I yelled back.

“Well, if you're hungry we could grab something up at the clubhouse. They've got awesome burgers. I know how you like burgers.”

I thought about my tub of cheese getting warm in the
Second House and yelled back, “Yeah, that would be—”

Trish walked out of nowhere, and I jumped.

“Yo, Amos.”

“Hey,” I said, trying not to look like a complete loser. “You scared the crap out of me.”

“I have that effect,” she said. “What are you doing?”

Mike walked in carrying a gym bag. “Hey, Trish. Want to come up to the clubhouse with us?”

“Are you serious?”

“Come on, I'm trying to show Fin here a good time.”

“I'll pass. No offense, Fin, but I can't stand the people up there.”

“You can't stand the people anywhere,” Mike said.

“Not anywhere in this hick town,” she replied.

Trish disappeared back down the hallway, and we hopped in Mike's car and drove up and down hills for what seemed like miles.

“This is a huge neighborhood,” I said.

“Yeah, it's like seventy thousand acres. It's got three golf courses, horses, swimming pools . . . The Territories even has its own police force. Well, rent-a-cops.”

We pulled up to a large chalet-style building on top of a hill. The parking lot was almost empty.

“Sorry, dude, looks like a quiet night. That's too bad—I was hoping to introduce you to some ladies.”

“No worries.”

Mike and I had dinner in the club's bar. I had a cheeseburger. I hoped it would be as good as the one at school. And it was. Better, even. Then we shot a couple games of pool. Mike insisted on playing for cash. I wasn't thrilled about the idea but, fortunately for me, Mike sucked at pool, and my cash supply was back over $200 by the time we finished.

“Do you want to go for a dip?”

“Sure. Why not.”

Mike led the way to the men's locker room. We put our suits on and walked out to a massive indoor pool. There were four guys and two girls sitting on the far edge of the pool. The guys were huge. Football players, I guessed.

“Ah, man,” Mike whispered.

“What?”

“Duane and his buddies. They don't usually come out here.”

“Do they live in The Territories?” I asked.

“No way! They're townies. Amanda lives out here, though.”

“Which one is Amanda?” I asked.

“The smoking hot one sitting next to Duane.”

That didn't help. Both girls were smoking hot. And both were sitting next to the biggest of the four guys. I assumed he was Duane.

“Is Amanda the blonde or the brunette?” I asked.

“The blonde,” Mike said. “The brunette is a new girl named Bailey.”

I set my towel down on the table and tried to look relaxed. I turned my back to the football players.

“We can't leave, Mike,” I said. “They've already seen us.”

Mike started to say something, but I knew it was too late. I could already hear Duane yelling something across the pool. I hated guys like Duane. And I had met many Duanes over the years. Thick-headed, slow-talking Neanderthals who lived to show off for their buddies. And over the years, I found there was only one way to deal with guys like Duane. I hoped I was wrong, but I had a strong feeling tonight wouldn't end well. For Duane, at least.

He was yelling something across the pool. His voice was echoing. I could only make out some of the words. But I was certain I heard the words “new buddy” and “girlfriend.”

Mike yelled something back and now Duane was walking to us.

“What did you say, Windy?” Duane yelled back.

“Wendy?” I asked.

“Windy. That's what he calls us—Trish and me. Because we're from Chicago.”

Now Duane was a few feet away.

“Oh, I get it,
windy
. Like the Windy City,” I said.

“Who's your girlfriend?” Duane asked without looking
in my direction. The brunette, Bailey, was now halfheartedly trying to call Duane off.

“Duane!” Bailey called. “Duane, get back here before I get bored and go home.”

Before I could stop him, I heard Mike say, “Finbar is new to Galena.”

Oh god, that was the worst thing he could say. Not only was I the new guy, which meant Duane would probably feel like he had to challenge me, especially in front of girls, but to make matters worse, my name was Finbar. That combo was certain death. I knew guys like Duane and he wasn't going to let that go. Ever. God, I hated my fake name.

Duane was now looking at me.

“Finbar? What kind of girly name is Finbar?” he asked.

“Irish,” I said. “And I agree, it is a bad name.”

“A
girly
name.” He repeated.

I looked Duane up and down. I was a big guy, for a
twelve
-year-old, but Duane was a monster. A beast.

“Hey, man. We don't want any trouble. This is my first day here. I'm just hanging out,” I said.

But I knew that wouldn't work. Duane had a look of shock on his face. I was certain he wasn't used to anyone actually responding to his comments.

“I'm leaving, Duane,” Bailey yelled as she pulled her Blackhawks sweatshirt over her swimsuit.

I glanced at Amanda. She was still sitting
with Duane's buddies. She seemed to be enjoying the show.

“Look,” I said to Duane, “I don't want to upset you, and this is a really big pool.” I motioned with my hands to indicate that the pool was truly massive. “How about Mike and I hang out here for a little bit”—I motioned to a small section of the shallow end—“and you guys use the rest of the pool. We're not staying long,” I added.

“We're using the entire pool now,” Duane said loud enough for his buddies to hear. “You girls can use it after we're done.”

I looked over at Mike. He looked absolutely terrified. I'd been in this situation more times than I could remember. Every school had a guy like Duane. Sometimes several guys like Duane. And they always had to screw with the new guy.

My mom had encouraged me to be the “smarter man” and walk away. Which now seemed funny, given her occupation. But walking away never worked. In fact, it got worse 100 percent of the time. My dad understood that.

We saw my dad in Greece one time just after a group of older boys had kicked the crap out of me. It was the first time I had really seen my dad angry. And over the course of his visit, he told me to never back down from the initial test. He told me to find the biggest, baddest guy in the group and take him down first. And take him down hard. He guaranteed me that the others would back away. And he was right. It worked 100 percent of the time. But the biggest and baddest guys
weren't usually
this
big and bad. And they weren't usually in high school. I was used to dealing with guys my own age. I thought I'd try reasoning with Duane one more time.

“Look.” I forced a smile on my face and took a step toward Duane. “We're going to swim down on this end of the pool, and you guys can have that end.” I didn't wait for a response. I just started taking off my shirt to show him I was serious. And that's when it started. And it wasn't just Duane, it was his buddies and Amanda, too. They were all laughing. And pointing. I looked down at my chest. Betty's giant blue eye was hanging around my neck. I'd forgotten all about it.

I grabbed the giant eye by the corner and tilted it up so I could see it better. “Yeah, I admit it's a little weird,” I said.

“
You're
a little weird, FIN-BAR,” Duane said, poking at the amulet.

“Duane, you're acting like a jerk.” Bailey was walking toward us now, but Duane ignored her.

“Leave him alone, Duane,” Mike said.

“Oh, is FIN-BAR from
windy
-town too?”

“Oh.” I laughed. “I get it, the Windy City—funny.”

“Your friend's a jerk,” Duane said as he grabbed the front of Mike's shirt.

“I wouldn't do that if I were you,” I said.

“Oh, really?” Duane twisted his massive fists and Mike's shirt looked like it was now cutting into his neck.

“Let him go,” I demanded.

“Make me.” He twisted harder. Mike was turning red. Bailey was standing next to Duane now. She looked like she was going to cry.

“Stop it!” she shouted.

I let go of the giant eye amulet, stepped toward Duane, and decided to borrow a line from my dad's book.

“Let go or they'll be picking pieces of you out of the pool filter for the next month.” It didn't seem to faze him. I guess it sounded better in my dad's book. Duane just twisted harder and started to lift Mike off the ground.

I tilted my head back, like I was gesturing toward the door behind me, like I was going to suggest that Mike and I just leave. Then I snapped my head forward as fast and hard as I could, smashing my forehead into Duane's nose. I felt his nose give way. I could hear it crunch as it broke into several pieces. His face exploded in a bloody mess. The force and shock of the blow caused Duane to let go of Mike and stagger several steps, falling into the pool with a loud splash. Within seconds, both of his buddies were in the water, swimming to his aid. Bailey and Amanda were both yelling. Duane let out a string of expletives and threats.

“We'd better go,” Mike said.

“Probably,” I agreed.

Mike was now beyond terrified. He was wringing his hands and mumbling all the way to the car. He was on the verge of tears. His hands were shaking so badly by the time
we reached the car that he could hardly open the door.

“It's okay,” I said, trying to calm him down. But I was starting to feel sick myself. Adrenaline always made me nauseated.

“Fin, you're a dead man.”

“I don't think so. Usually these guys avoid me after.”

“After?” Mike asked. “You've done this before?”

“A couple of times. You'd be amazed at how hard your forehead is. It's an old trick my dad taught me.”

“You don't know Duane. Your dad doesn't know Duane. And you don't know the football team. They're all for one and one for all, that kind of stuff. They'll all come after you.”

“Seriously. I'll be okay,” I said. I was actually more worried about Mike's ability to drive than Duane and his buddies.

M
ike was a little calmer
by the time we got to the highway.

“Man! That was terrifying. You're a crazy man! And a dead man! Oh, wait until I tell Trish. She hates Duane more than I do.”