Part Fourteen: Sub Plans
During the summer months, it was easy for a single teacher's house to transition from a comforting retreat into a self-imposed prison. On the weekends, I still got out to see my friends, and otherwise there was the occasional errand to run, but as time passed, time increasingly lost meaning. Grocery shopping was as likely to happen at 3 AM as it was during daylight hours. It was liberating, in a sense, but simultaneously disorienting. One year I had managed to land a summer school position to help keep me grounded, but the others, I had needed to adapt on my own.
One of those adaptations had been Baxton Park. It was a decently sized public park, mostly a softball field and open grass but with a few pavilions and a wooded area at the east end. Squirrels and birds were in abundance, along with the occasional sighting of a raccoon or a hawk. One day, simply to be out of the house for a while, I took my lunch there and ate it sitting on a small grassy hill overlooking the field, leaning back against a perfectly angled tree trunk. It soon got so that I ate lunch there almost every day of the summer, and took my dinner there on occasion, too. It was an excuse to get out of the house, to be outdoors, to see people without having to interact with them. The park was a refuge from my home and the lesson planning and updating materials and renewing certification criteria and my oh so empty bed.
That last was in times during which I was single, which was more often than not. I'd always imagined I'd be married by now, settled down and starting a family of my own. It was hard to start dating when you worked eighty hours a week with next to no disposable income, much less find somebody to settle down and have a kid with. So instead I came here, where I could see other people's kids, then go back home and get back to prepping for the fall. It was balance. At the park, I could simply exist, let my mind wander and drift along without plan or purpose. It became a place where I did a lot of my most uninhibited thinking.
That night, it was where I did my scheming.
It was nearly eleven o'clock when I parallel parked along the street by Baxton Park, hand throbbing, mind ablaze with outrage. The latter was directed as much at myself as at Isa and Candy. How could I have been so careless? I had disarmed myself, been seduced with pathetic ease. By a pair of lesbians, no less! To think, it had been easier for me to believe that Candy wanted to play sex games with one of her athletes, that Isa was getting off flashing her admittedly spectacular tits, than to even wonder if they might be up to something. Hubris of the highest order.
I snatched the blanket I kept in my trunk for just such occasions and made my way up into the stands around the softball field, settling into the back row by the scoreboard. The night chill was more pronounced up here even this small distance off the ground, but previous late-night wanderings had taught me that on occasion, the police swung by the park, probably on the lookout for mischievous youths. My perch, however, was shielded from scrutiny thanks to the scoreboards blocking sight of me from the street.
I nestled in, leaning my head back against the wooden planks. It was a clear night. The stars were out in abundance. Somehow, that helped calm me down. There would be time later to kick myself for lack of foresight (a polite term for thinking entirely with my dick). For now, I had to start acting my intellect and get to work on next steps.
I needed the Serenex back. Whatever else I did, it had to start with that. What I'd do about my malefactors was secondary. Acquiring that precious white canister was the only goal. Not having much experience with the sort of tactical thinking required for such operations, I instead approached it like a learning objective. Ergo, first things first: outline barriers.
That was not a short list, unfortunately. They had the Serenex. That damnable taser. Isa's police training. They were intelligent. Whether or not their suspicions had been allayed, I had to assume they weren't stupid enough to be as complacent as I'd been. Ergo, they would be wary of me. The odds that the canister would be left somewhere I might easily burgle were low. They quite possibly had a gun safe for Isa's sidearm, which could well accommodate the Serenex as well. Not a certainty, but a good enough chance to rule out the approach. I'd kept it sealed in my briefcase, after all, and would surely have preferred a safe if I owned one. Besides, I hadn't had half as much cause to worry someone might try to come along and take it.
The problem looming largest, however, was my timeline. Tonight, I expected they were busy celebrating, or maybe sleeping off the wine I'd gifted them. Soon, however, they would set their self-righteous minds to "liberating" the young women from our arrangement - Megan, too, I expected. There wouldn't be an easy way to do that tomorrow, since Sundays meant conspicuous house calls and having to deduce the girls' whereabouts. Come Monday, however, Officer Barbour could easily call them to her office and dose them one by one. My theory about how conflicting inputs might interact under the influence of Serenex was just that, a theory. It could easily be that a new command would overwrite an old one. Even if it fucked their heads up in some unforeseeable way, Isa might consider that a risk worth taking. To their minds, the girls' heads already
were
fucked up, after all.
There was no waiting. In all probability, the Serenex would leave with Isa for work Monday morning, at which point I was officially screwed. Even if they continued to maintain our secret, they would take away everything I'd gained and then destroy the rest of the canister's contents. Whatever I did, it had been soon.
An owl landed nearby atop the chain link fence separating the benches from the field. It hooted softly. I nodded a greeting to it. It went unacknowledged.
Next step: what assets did I have? A shorter list to be sure, but not nothing. First and foremost, I had the girls. To various degrees, at least. Each had their shortcomings as allies. Abbie had her tendency toward overzealousness. Taylor's dedication was suspect. Cassie was... well, Cassie. None of them were exactly covert ops material. They were, however, each invested in the new status quo in their own way. I had no doubt they would each take issue with Candy and Isa's characterization of our affiliation.
As for other assets? Beyond the three of them, there wasn't much. The element of surprise was a maybe; Isa had been awfully suspicious right up to the end. Did desperation count?
As the owl and I took our time sussing out our respective problems, I considered that there was still one thing I had going for me. I simply needed to identify a means of exploiting it.
Time to rally the troops. If there was one thing I could count on to at least cheer me up, it was Abbie, Taylor and Cassie. Now I only had to hope I could count on them for a little bit more.
________________
Come on, come on, pick up pick up pick up!
"Hello?"
"Candace! Oh thank-"
"What in the name of all that's unholy are you calling me for at this hour, Canon?"
"Look, I know it's late, I'm sorry, but-"
"Late? Christ, it's after two! You have some nerve."
"I really am sorry, I swear. Now just shut up and listen to me - there isn't much-"
"Did you tell me to shut up? Don't you
dare
tell me what to do, buster! After what you pulled, you're lucky you aren't on your way to prison. Believe me, if we could have found a way, you would be."
"Yes, you made that very clear earlier, and I didn't mean to be rude, but please if you'll hear me out for just a-"
"Great, now you woke Isa." Her voice through the phone was suddenly muffled. "No, mama, it's that asshole again... I
did
have it on vibrate, but he must have called a hundred times... We can't tell him to go fuck himself, because he might actually try to do it... I know you meant it metaphorically-"
"Figuratively," I mumbled.
" -but maybe you should go back to bed and let me handle this, OK?" The phone returned to her mouth and she was addressing me again. "Now you pissed off Isa. She's come up with some very creative yet safe-and-free ways to occupy your time, you know that? You're lucky I told her to go back to sleep."
"Don't!"
Finally, she took a breath. "What do you mean, don't?"
"Thank you," I shot, sarcasm heavy. "Are the girls there? I don't hear them, but... are they?"
"The girls? Who, you mean Cassie and the Sterns?"
