Meet the Author
Chapter 11

Copyright© 2010 by John Smith

I didn't expect tears when Cyn drove into my driveway, with her new car. At least Beck was there with her and explained things.

The trip to the local drive in after school, I expected. It was, after all, one of those old drive ins that you might see in a movie. It was the place to go, even now. I was amused to hear how many girls they had stuffed into the car on the way there. But then the story took a sour note, and the reason for the tears.

I was mad. Bullies at any age are ugly. In high school it can be particularly worse than any other time. I think that is because if they are still at it, when they are that age, no one has stopped them. They have little appreciation for anything but themselves. It also told me, from Beck's description of the larger situation, that the school did little intervention. They chose to look the other way.

Fortunately, or not, I was in a unique position. I could understand what was truly going on, being close enough in age to the high school age crowd. The second factor in my favor was that I was not the parent.

Squelching my own feeling, I put on a good face and told Cyn that bullies only get their way by having people react to them. Not to give in to that, and even though it was hard to do, pretend like the situation didn't bother her.

"Are you sure it will be fine?" she asked me.

I lied, and said, "Yes. Don't worry, and please, no more tears."

With that she flung herself on me, wrapping her arms around and almost doing the same with her legs. I was caught off balance and the two of us almost tumbled to the ground. Beck was laughing at us. Cyn soon joined in. It was good to see her smile return.

The two of them, then told me of the day's adventures from arrival at school, class discussions, lunch, and how they managed to stuff nine girls into a car built for four at the max!

By then Cyn was back to her normal, beautiful, self.

Cyn sighed and then stated, "I have to take Beck home; she made me take her here."

"I'm glad you did, Beck," I said. Then to Cyn, I added, "Take her home and we'll talk later."

"Talk," Beck said and then gave a laugh, "that's a good one."

Cyn poked her friend in the ribs and told her she'd have to walk if she didn't start being nice. The two left poking fun at each other. It was good to see such friendship.

As soon as I watched them drive away, I hurried inside.

After listening to the perky receptionist, I said I needed to talk with Jim. She paused in her answer to me, and I pressed on, telling her my name and that it was important.

Jim was on the line in a couple of minutes and his breathing told me he'd been out in the lot, not in his office.

"I hope this is important," he said.

"It is. Now let me tell you of the situation and I need to know what can be done."


I knew it wasn't convenient, but my boss would get over it. As it was Friday, half the time the department is gone anyway. I was responsible for the equipment Jim had lent me. He told me that the dealership had used the equipment five times in the past two years and the one time it was truly needed, it worked very well. I hoped he was right. I also hoped I was wrong and jumping to conclusions.

One extraordinary benefit of my friendship with Jim is that he did something not quite legal, but understandable. He gave me an extra key to Cyn's car that the dealership still had.

I had suggested to Cyn, the night before, that she try and park so the car was easily seen, and not in the middle of the lot. She understood the unsaid reasoning for that. She also told me that to get one of those spots, she would need to leave ten minutes earlier. I was sure Tim was not going to be pleased with the news.

As I drove by the high school, minutes after the first bell rang, I could see her car. Very good. Jim told me line of sight was important. I stopped on the street, walked into the parking lot, opened up her car, and set the wireless mic unit on the back seat. Then locked her car again and drove off. That is until I was past the school. Turning around, I drove back and parked right across the street. That's when I set up the camera, zoomed in on Cyn's car, turned the recording unit on, and waited.

With nothing else to do, I was playing games on my phone, and half listening to what I could hear anytime sounds came through the mic unit I had dropped in Cyn's car. The extent of noise was the ringing of the bells, telling students where to be. The disappointment happened after what I could tell was their second period. He appeared almost out of nowhere. Something I found hard to believe, so passed that off as not paying close enough attention. I didn't need to, after all, it was being recorded. I knew the person in question, as I'd made Tim email me a scanned picture out of their yearbook of him.

Cruel, crude language was the first I heard. Then I saw and shuddered. My cell phone had been programed with the local police station's number and I was already hearing it ring as I saw her beautiful paint job being keyed.

As soon as they picked up I said what I saw.

"Oh God, he has I knife!"

"Sir, where are you?"

"Across from the high school. He's in the parking lot. He's ... Oh damn him. Get here fast, or I'm going to take him out myself."

With that I hung up and watched as he repeatedly stabbed the convertible top, shredding it. The words, along with his actions, made me glad I didn't have a gun with me. I probably would have shot the fucker and ended his miserable life.

Instead I watched and listened as three police cruisers, with lights and sirens blasting converged onto the parking lot. He was a fucking asshole, but not a complete idiot. He wasn't there when they pulled up. I shook my head and got out of my car.

They did notice the car. It was hard to miss. Frankly I think their objective was to scare off the person, so they didn't have to deal with anyone.

"I was the one who called," I shouted across the street to them.

They looked over to me and one of the officers came over to see what I could provide. Little did they know.

Jim had told me what to do, in case something went bad, as it just had done. I stopped the recorder and ejected the dvd.

"Here is the evidence you need. It has sound and is date-time stamped."

The officer gave me a look of disbelief and then said, "You expected this then?"

"Unfortunately, yes. Threats were made and I took them seriously. Something the school should have done some time ago, I believe."

He glanced over at the car and shook his head.

"We never get anyone with vandalization and this is a biggy."

"Well," I said in a disgusted voice, "if you didn't announce to the world you were arriving, then you wouldn't let the person leave the scene so easily."

I didn't expect him to respond, so I dialed the other number I had programmed in last night.

"Jim, I need a tow truck over at the high school."

"Hey wait a minute, we're not letting that car go anywhere," the officer said.

"May I suggest you talk to the dealership owner, who you are going to call anyway, and tell him when he can pick up the car? Let me tell you one thing, if it's not gone in the next hour..."

"What?" he said, trying to pull a superior tone on me.

"There will be a lawsuit against the city that will be rather ugly and extremely costly. I do not want that car here when lunch happens. Is that clear?"

The officer and I were staring at each other, when I heard my phone.

"I'm still here."

"Jim, sorry," I responded.

"Heard every word. By the way, is it there yet?"

"What?" I asked, and then heard the diesel engine. I saw it coming down the street and fought back a smile. "I see it down the street. Thanks."

The officer was not at all pleased and left me to walk across the street.

I had done my legal duty of providing evidence that was proof of what I had witnessed. Now for the hard part.

Opening my trunk, I pulled out the dvd from the second recording unit. Insurance is what Jim had called it. Placing the dvd into a protected case, I locked up my car and walked across the street.

The officers were less than happy when I produced a key for the vehicle in question. The tow truck driver, the same one that had taken Melody's car away, just nodded to me when I handed him the key.

"Any reason for the car not to be moved?" I asked.

They finally had to admit, 'no' there wasn't. Fingerprints don't show up on car surfaces well and given my description of what happened, they wouldn't find any usable evidence on or in the car anyway.

I watched it being loaded onto the flat bed and when the tow truck left, so did I.

After stopping at home and changing my clothing, made three more copies of the dvd. I then grabbed a portable dvd player, the three copies, (leaving the original at home) and went down to my attorney's office.

He was not happy with what I was asking him to do. He also understood why I was asking it. Therefore he and I went to the courthouse.

I had texted Cyn that I had her car towed and was not at work today, so I couldn't talk. I knew that was not going to make her happy, but no one else had seen anything as far as I knew. So the less said, now, the better.

It was one in the afternoon when we were granted an audience with a judge. Asking him if he had a dvd player, he said 'yes' and we went into another room. There I played the incident. The physical parts were graphic. The words he used while stabbing were chilling. When it ended, with him running off (sounds of the police sirens in the background) I turned it off.

"I want a restraining order with a minimum of 200 yard distance," I stated.

The judge looked at me. He had most of the relevant questions answered in the form my attorney had filled out. He said to me, "Having gone to that high school, I can tell you that would place him outside of school grounds at almost any time."

A little smile crept upon my face, as I answered, "Yes, I am well aware of that."

"And your justification for that?" he asked.

"Other than what you saw on this video, which should be enough, he is a receiver on the football team. As such, he can maneuver and get into a position with accuracy and speed. That could be a deadly combination if he wanted to carry any of the threats he said."

"Given the nature of what I have seen here, I'm not sure it will make any difference. He is likely to spend the rest of the school year behind bars. One never knows, though, and so I am going to grant the restraining order."

I looked at my watch as I pulled into the visitor parking at the school. Just a little over an hour before school let out. I asked if they could call Cyn to the office. Yes, I did actually use that name. After a groan on my part, I used her full name. That gave me a few smiles. I'm sure she was going to hear about that one.

When they asked why, I explained her car had been towed off the school grounds before lunch and she wasn't aware of it. That created the action I had hoped for! One of the ladies came over and asked if there was anything serious. I acknowledged to her that there was and I also needed to speak to the Principal.

Cyn walked into the office, looking totally perplexed as why she was called, about the same time as the Principal walked up to me.

"Brad!" Cyn said in surprise.

"Mr. Wright?"

"Yes," I replied and then to Cyn said, "Can you wait out here for me?"

She didn't look happy, but nodded and went to sit down.

I walked into the Principal's office.

Twenty minutes later we came out. Cyn stood and looked at both our expressions. I was not happy any of this had happened, but when push came to shove, at least logic finally sank in.

He told the secretary that Miss Johnson was being checked out of school early.

"Brad!" she said in an exaggerated whisper. "What's happening?"

"I'll tell you on the way, come on."

We didn't make it out before two of the guards who patrol the grounds walked into the office.

"We understand you want his locker cleared before he leaves and we are to stay with him at all times?"

I pushed Cyn out the door, not letting her hear any more.

"Now what happened to my car?" she asked when we were about out to mine.

"In the car and I'll tell you all about it."

 
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