Fook (3 page)

The loss of the rollercoaster wasn’t that
big of a deal to Jason though. He’d hated roller coasters at the
time and after being tricked into getting on “The Back Cracker”
alone, he still hadn’t become a fan.

Two more women made their way into the
bathroom as Jason continued to watch for the reemergence of his
date, but the door swung shut once again with no sign of Miss
Martin. “She was way out of my league anyway,” Jason thought,
beginning to accept the likely truth of the matter. Removing the
napkin from his lap, he flagged down the waitress.

He wasn’t surprised. He hadn’t met Bethany
on his own. They hadn’t run into one another in any social setting.
They didn’t share any classes together. In fact, he wasn’t even
sure that she went to the same school or whether she was in college
at all. The silence that had dominated their date right up to the
point when she’d excused herself to the bathroom was so deafeningly
quiet that he really didn’t know a thing about her, other than how
she ordered her salad.

Derek, his roommate, had set them up. “You
need to get out there. Live a little. Dust off that lightening rod
you keep tucked away in your pants,” he’d said.

Though he hadn’t been fond of Derek’s
implications, he was right. It had been nearly a year since he’d
managed to somehow convince a woman into bed with him, if you could
even call it convincing. She had been the less than attractive
friend of the girl Derek had lured back to the dorm that night and
based on the vulgar and, at times, repulsive things that came out
of her mouth during the act, he’d gotten the impression that she
probably would’ve given it up to just about anything with a pulse.
The next morning he’d visited the school clinic and had every test
known to man. Out of all the tests he’d taken up to that point in
school, the results of those are still, to date, his favorite.

“Done so soon?” Lacey, as her name tag
indicated, questioned, staring at the hardly touched food.

“Yeah, my date wasn’t feeling well so I
think we’re going to go,” he lied, not entirely sure why. It wasn’t
like he knew this girl and the likeliness of running into her again
in a city of 617,594 people over the age of eighteen was—

“—She looks okay to me,” Lacey stopped him
before he could calculate the odds.

Jason turned to find Bethany standing on the
sidewalk just outside the restaurant window, holding her phone in
front of her as her fingers feverishly pecked away at the tiny
screen. “Apparently the concept of glass and its transparent
quality was beyond this girl’s comprehension,” he thought as he
continued to watch her deeply, engrossing texting session.
“Definitely does not attend M.I.T.”.

“Would you like me to wrap this up for
you?”

“What? No...it’s fine. I’ll just take the
check."

“She’s not worth it anyway. You seem like a
nice guy. I think you could do much better,” Lacey offered her kind
assessment with a smile before disappearing back into the busy
restaurant.

That would’ve been a nice sentiment, Jason
thought as he withdrew his wallet. Given that she was working for
tips, he wasn’t going to be fooled into reading much more into
it.

*****

The March air was crisp, winter continuing its
stubborn hold on the city, as Jason watched his texting date from
the doorway of the restaurant.

Waiting for the waitress to return with his
credit card and receipt, he’d contemplated what he was going to do
about his deceitful date on the other side of the window. At first
he’d decided to just wait her out and remain at the table until
she’d gone, but as the girl continued to stand on the sidewalk,
stubbornly refusing to put an official end to their date, he’d
grown more and more frustrated. By the time Lacey had returned with
his check he’d been fuming inside.

How could someone do that to another person?
Sure he was on the shy side and a bit awkward. He wasn’t the
overtly fun type of guy that she was probably used to going out
with but was it really that terrible to spend just one night with
someone a little different? Hell, she was getting a free meal out
of the deal. It wasn’t like he was asking her to fuck him in
return. He wasn’t even expecting a hand-job or anything remotely
like that. He’d just wanted to spend one evening with someone other
than his roommate or his computer. Was that really too much
to—?

“Excuse me,” an elderly voice interrupted
his internal rant.

Jason turned to see an older couple
attempting to slip around him and through the doorway which he was
blocking. “I’m sorry,” he replied, stepping out of the way and
fully outside as the door shut behind him. The anger that had been
welling up inside began to subside and he contemplated once again
just forgetting about the entire experience. What good would come
from confronting the rude girl? He would probably end up saying
something that would make him look even worse than she obviously
already thought he was. There was no point.

Unfortunately, he now had to figure a way
past the girl without being seen. Since he lived in the city there
was really no need for a car. He’d walked to the restaurant from
his dorm just a few blocks North, which would require him to
stealthily slip past his ex-date if he didn’t want to circle the
entire block.

Shifting as close to the window, behind
which he’d previously been seated, he began to slide along the
building’s exterior. Luckily, Bethany was still engrossed by her
phone, making him feel more at ease about turning his slinking
shuffle into more of a casual walk. As he passed the girl he
attempted to catch a glimpse of the conversation but since he was
trying to avoid detection, he was hesitant to get any closer and
therefore wasn’t able to obtain any more information about the
secret conversation other than that it was taking place on an
iPhone.

With Bethany now to his back he began to
feel more at ease. She hadn’t known him for more than an hour at
most, so it was very unlikely that she could identify him from the
back of his head or the clothes that he was wearing. His slow,
cautious walk became more relaxed as the distance between them
increased.

“Where have you been!?” Bethany shouted.

Jason froze, knowing that he’d been spotted.
Instantly he began running the conversation that was about to take
place through his head. “Where have
I
been?” he imagined his
response as he remained frozen on the sidewalk, his back to the
girl. “Where the hell have
you
been? I was sitting at the
same table while you took the longest pee in history or did you
even have to go at all? And, how the hell did you get outside
without me seeing you? You think you’re so god damned special
that—?"

“I had to climb out the bathroom window to
avoid that weirdo.”

Confused, Jason turned as Bethany quickly
lowered herself into the passenger seat of a blue, Ford Mustang. It
was clear now that she’d been addressing the driver, an attractive
girl of similar height and build, with the same long blonde hair
and dimpled cheeks as his date. “Probably her sister,” he thought,
turning to shield his face as the car sped away.

“Weirdo,” Jason repeated the familiar name
aloud as he turned and continued home.

THREE

“You said he was standing next to the crib when you
entered the room?” Officer Eric Sanchez reconfirmed as he moved
into the spot where Oliver’s assailant had been standing forty
minutes earlier.

“Yes. When I entered the room I saw a man
standing beside my son, suffocating him with a stuffed animal,”
Bill again explained the attack for what seemed like the hundredth
time to the middle aged officer.

“The bunny, right?” the officer motioned to
the deadly pink plaything laying face down in the far corner of the
crib.

“Yes,” Bill, annoyed, reconfirmed.

“You mind if we take the bunny with us?”

“No, but what do you expect to get from
that?”

“Probably nothing but just in the off chance
that one of the man’s hairs or some other evidence might have ended
up entangled in the animal’s fur. We’re also going to want to dust
the crib for fingerprints.”

“Is that really going to work on wood?” Bill
questioned, in no way an expert but familiar enough with crime
scene investigations from television and books to know the
basics.

“Probably not, but this plastic strip along
the rail might lend a decent print,” Sanchez tapped the rail with
his pen.

“I need to grab a few things. I’ll be right
back. Just don’t touch anything, okay?”

“Yeah, no problem,” Bill agreed as the
officer moved past him and disappeared into the hall, his presence
replaced by Jennifer, still protectively clinging to Oliver in her
arms.

From the moment that they'd discovered the
young child on the living room floor Jennifer had refused to let
anyone remove him from her grasp. Even as the paramedics had been
conducting their exam of the child, she'd refused to let go. Her
reaction was completely understandable given the terrifying events
that had just occurred but Bill couldn't help thinking that his
wife might now, never let go of Oliver again. Instantly, an image
of his wife sitting at a school desk with seventeen year old Oliver
on her lap, taking his S.A.T., popped into his head.

"They must think we're nuts," she whispered
as she moved closer to her husband.

"Yeah, I got the same impression."

Oliver's eyes bounced back and forth over
his bottle at his parent’s exchange.

"Can you really blame them though?" Bill
added. "I mean, if someone told me a story like that and I hadn't
been there to witness it, I'd probably think the same thing.”

"I know, but we're not making it up. We're
good, upstanding, professional people. We're not the types to make
something like this up for attention.”

"They don't know that. They have no idea who
we are. Besides...," lowering his voice even more, "...are we
really sure about what we saw?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty damn sure." Jennifer
paused, looking down at the pair of innocent eyes and ears intently
focused on her. "I know what I saw. That psychopath was trying to
kill Oliver." The tears, which had only tapered off ten minutes
earlier, once again began to gather.

"I know. I'm not denying that. Hel...heck I
was fighting the guy off. I mean..." Quiet again, "How did Oliver
end up in the living room?"

"This will only take a few minutes," Officer
Sanchez reannounced his presence as he reentered the room with a
small box in hand. "Everything alright?" he questioned the couple,
apparently sensing the intensity of the conversation, or perhaps
having heard the tail end of it.

"Yeah, we...we just want this whole thing to
be over," Bill responded.

"Do you have any idea who would want to do
this to our son?" Jennifer added.

"I was actually going to ask you the same
question," Officer Sanchez replied as he opened the small box to
reveal a container of finger print dust and a small round
brush.

On cue, Officer Sanchez's partner entered
the room. The notepad that he'd used to take down Jennifer’s
account of the night’s events was in hand and ready for any
additional information he might be able to obtain.

"I don't know
anyone
that would want
to hurt an infant," Bill rejected what he found to be an insulting
question. He didn't associate himself with people capable of such
an act. As far as he knew he was well liked by just about everyone
he knew.

"I don't mean to imply that any of this was
your fault. I'm just simply trying to come to an understanding of
what exactly happened tonight. I, too, find it disgusting that
someone would commit such a heinous act, but it doesn't change the
fact that they did," Sanchez continued, as he began gently tapping
the brush against the crib's railing. "Have you had any issues with
a family member or someone close to you regarding your son?"

"No, of course not," Jennifer quickly
answered.

"And you said that you adopted your son,
right?"

"Yeah, the paperwork was just finalized at
the hospital a few days ago before we brought him home," Bill took
his turn to answer.

"Any issues with the natural parents?"

"No, it was an unwanted teen pregnancy. The
girl was only fifteen years old. Both of the girl's parents were
involved in the process and everyone was more than happy with the
arrangement. Tiffany—“

“—That was the girl's name," Jennifer
interjected.

"Tiffany...," Bill continued, "...was very
happy about the arrangement. I mean, she was understandably upset
the other day after giving birth, but it's not like this was a spur
of the moment decision. She chose us as the adopting family nearly
six months ago and we made it very clear that she is more than
welcome to be a part of our lives as much or as little as she
wants. She's a great girl. Her whole family has been great.”

"I don't think I'm going to get anything
here," Officer Sanchez announced, giving up on dusting and
returning the brush to the box.

"I didn't think you would," Bill, under his
breath muttered.

Jennifer shot him a look and as he lifted
his gaze from his wife's scolding glare he was met by another set
of judgmental eyes looking up from the notepad in front of
them.

Apparently Officer Sanchez had not heard the
sarcastic comment, continuing the momentarily paused conversation.
"What about the father?"

"Excuse me?” Bill asked, turning away from
Sanchez's scrutinizing partner.

"The father. Your son's biological father.
Any issues with him?"

"We don't know who the father is. Tiffany
had apparently gotten drunk at some party and hooked up with a guy
she didn't know. I think she said something about an Asian kid from
another high school."