Chapter 3

Joss

 

“But Jo-oss, its too hard. You do it.”

“I know I didnt just hear you ask your sister to do your homework, Jilly -bug.” Dad came out of the back room, pulling his coat on, and saved me from second grade math homework.
“Um, no way, Daddy!”
“Good. Now honey, are you sure youll be ok with the Bug?”
“Sure, Dad, its fine. Dont worry about it.”
Dad was going to the range like he always did for the weekly target-shooting match. It was his guy night out, and hed been doing it for as long as I can remember. Mom, Jill, and I used to watch the store on those nights, but, starting this year, Id been running the store and closing up by myself. Mostly my parents had been pretty cool about it. A little nervous, maybe, but cool. Id been working in the store like forever, so no big. But Mom had to go visit her sister out of town that week, so I had Jill and the store. It wasnt any big deal to me, but you know dads, right?
Plus there was the thing with Krista. Hed be wigged out about that. I knew he knew. He knew I knew. But we werent going to talk about it.
“Maybe I should stay.”
“Go!” we both ordered.
So Dad gave Jill a smacking kiss on the cheek and walked around the counter to stand in front of me. He grabbed both my hands and looked hard into my face.
Dad could change—just like that. One minute he was a normal dad, attentive parent, responsible business owner. The next…
“Youre right. We have to keep things normal now. The last thing we want to do is draw attention toourselves.” His voice was low and intense, and his eyes darted to all points around the room and back to mine. Away again. “If you see anything, anything suspicious, you know what to do. Under the counter, shotgun. Handguns under the register. Emergency locks?”
“Panic button in the cabinet locks the door. Exit through the stockroom. Shoot anyone who doesnt follow instructions. Passage behind the boxes in the bathroom leads out to stockroom next door with roof access. Follow planned route across to the next building, down the fire escape to the alleyway. Use untraceable cell phone to contact you to meet us at the rendezvous point.”
“And how are you going to contact me with the cell phone if you dont remember to pick up the G.O.O.D. pack?”
G.O.O.D. stands for Get Out Of Dodge. Its important—I really cant stress this enough— its really important not to roll your eyes at Dad when he goes into commando mode.
“Sorry sir. Secure G.O.O.D. pack from hook next to delivery door before proceeding to bathroom, as pack contains contact phone, provisions, medical supplies, extra ammo, and tear gas which may be necessary in an escape situation.”
“Good girl, Joss.” And just like that, he started to fade back into normal dad mode. “I did all the checks this morning. Youre good to go.”
“Were not going to need it, Dad. Everythings fine. Go shoot stuff, k?”
“Yeah. Yeah. Its all fine. Youre out of here by nine, bed by ten, got it?”
“Yeah, Dad.”
Dad gave me a peck on the forehead and walked out of the store without looking back. I knew he was thinking about who might be watching. I took a deep breath and let it out as the tension level immediately dropped back to normal range.
And spiked again when I turned around and Jilly handed me the hugest, pinkest, most beautiful rose anyone has ever seen.
“Do my math, pleeeeeeezzzzz?”
“Jilly! Jesus H. Christ on a Crutch, get rid of that thing right now!”
“Dont you like it? I snagged the leaf from Mrs. ONeills yard on the way home from school today.”
And then used her Talent to grow that incredible blossom from it, in the palm of her hand. No wonder Dad was a basket case.
“Go to the bathroom and flush it down the toilet. Right. Now.”
Jills face screwed up and her eyes got really bright.
“I love it, ok? Its great. Its the most beautiful thing Ive ever seen. And you know we cant keep it. So go get rid of it and when you get back, your homework will magically be done.”
“Really?”
“Go!”
Jill slid off her stool and ran off toward the stockroom. I made a mental note to myself to check the place for petals so Dad wouldnt have an embolism.
And youd think the Universe would have the decency to call it a day by that point, let me relax, feather dust the holster and accessories display, maybe find a better arrangement for the new rifle cases Dad had just leaned up against the wall near the boot “department”… But nooooooo.
Because no sooner had the stockroom door started its backswing, than the sensor on the door that tells us a customer just walked in made its incredibly loud buzz. I just about had a heart attack, thinking it was Dad coming back in to use the bathroom before driving out to the range. But no, even that would have been too much karmic kindness to hope for.
Nope, I jumped up and spun around, with what Im sure was an oh-so-attractive deer in the headlights look on my face, and my eyes smacked right into Dylans baby blues as he sauntered into the store.
Genes Army Navy has all kinds of customers. Even though downtown is having a hard time, and a lot of the stores in the once thriving pedestrian mall—once, like meaning back in the 20s I think—have closed up and moved to the strip malls on the roads out from town, we do ok. I think this is partially due to our wide selection of merchandise. Were not just military surplus, you know. Although we dont sell any firearms because Dad doesnt want to deal with the paperwork for that and get on anybodys “radar.”
Plus it helps to be almost right across the bricks from Vinyl Salvation, a pretty cool music store. It used to be a Record World, but it got better. Theres a decent thrift shop, with the oh-sooriginal name Second-Hand Rose, a few doors down from us. And a movie theater—ok, it only has one screen and shows a lot of independent films, but some of them arent bad—and an ice cream parlor called Sweet Blondies on the corner. Plus theres Pizza Pit.
So we get some kids coming in here sometimes, but thankfully more college kids than kids from my school. We dont have the shoplifting problems that the other stores have because cops shop here sometimes and people think theyre friends with my dad, because he sucks up to them and gives them discounts. Then he spends twenty minutes muttering about them as soon as they leave.
So not like Dylans never been in the store before. He usually just looks around. One time he bought boots. Nice boots, too. My mom waited on him. I remembered I had to count some stuff in the stockroom. And no, thats not hiding. Thats being a responsible employee. But now that I had the store to myself on Thursdays, I actually had to stay on the floor and deal.
I expected Dylan to wander the store, but he was coming right at me. Well sure, I thought, cause I was standing right behind the glass display case where we kept the knives, and thats one of the things guys like to look at. So I moved aside to, you know, give him some space. His eyes followed me, and his course changed, just that fraction to let me know he was coming toward me, not the knife display.
I hate it when I do the girl thing, even in my head, you know?Oh my God, he’s going to talk to me. Please don’t let him talk to me. I’m totally going to curl up and die if he doesn’t talk to me. Ugh.
“Hey.”
Hey, Dylan, ’sup?
Hi, welcome to Gene’s Army Navy, how can I help you?
Hi, Dylan, how’s it goin’?
Hey yourself.
What are you doing here?
“Hey,” I replied.
“Um, hows it goin?”
“Sok Thursdays are kinda quiet, usually.”
He nodded, like he knew. “So…you here alone?”
Why, are you planning to—Flippant and highly inappropriate thought crushed beneath my boot before it could make me blush or worse! come out of my mouth. Be cool. “Uh-huh.”
“Cool.” He glanced over at the knife case. See, it was the knives. Did I want him to ask to see one, or was the risk of using it to put myself out of my misery too great at this point? “I wanted to—”
The security buzz blasted from the door again, and we both jumped away from each other. I didnt know what his deal was.
“Hi, Mr. Jensen. I thought youd be at the range tonight.”
“No such luck, Jocelyn; couldnt get there tonight. But I was in the neighborhood on my way home and thought Id check to see if my order came in. It was—”
“The speed-loader pouches. Yeah, they came in the mail little while ago. Theyre still back in the office. Ill go get em.”
“Thanks, sweetie.”
And maybe, I thought, Dylan will wander off while I’m back there and find someone else to pick on. I mean, clearly I had a thing for him, but I marked that down to typical teen female hormonal bad judgment and tried to ignore it as best I could. Id never really seen him treat anyone the way Marco did, but I felt there was a reasonable guilt-by-association factor involved.
“Jilly, what are you doing?!” She had pulled a chair from the office into the bathroom and there was a tin of grease paint involved.
She jumped down from the chair and ran at me with a war cry. I just stood there, glaring.
“Rawr! Im a warrior princess! Fear me!”
“Trust me, I do. How many times—”
“Im going to go scare the customers!”
“Id rather you—” But I was talking to a swinging door. Screw it.
Ittook me a few minutes to get Mr. Jensens order because it wasnt even unpacked, the invoices had to be checked against the order, I had to get the special order book and sign off on that form, etc. Theres a lot of papers involved, and Dad can be really anal about it.
When I finally got back out on the floor, Mr. Jensen was looking at the belts on the other side of the store, and Dylan and Jilly had their heads together over something on the counter. No good can come of this, I thought. The order was paid, so I thanked my customer and wished him a good night. But he hesitated.
“Are you sure youre ok alone?”
“Sure. I manage the store by myself all time.”
“I know, its just…”
I realized he was looking at Dylan. Which made me look at Dylan. And yeah, the boots, leather jacket, that long, somewhat shaggy hair, the shoulders out to here…and there was something about Dylans quiet, I-could-give-a-shit attitude. While to me these traits added up to a hopeless and ridiculous crush for as long as I could remember, I could kind of see how someone like Mr. Jensen might be concerned. I thought it was sweet. But while we were watching, Jill brought Dylan one of Dads cleaning rags from under the counter and he used it to wipe the worst of the greasepaint off her hands. Awwwww. If a talking gorilla was the next customer through the door, I wouldnt have been surprised at that point.
But anyway, the gesture seemed to reassure Mr. Jensen, so we exchanged pleasantries and he went on his way.
Back at the checkout, Dylan had Jills pencil and was leaning over her math homework. They were both gonna get it now.
“So look, what Im saying is, you dont have to have the whole times tables memorized right now to do this stuff. Because you can count really fast, right?”
“1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12—”
“Ok, ok. So look here, youve got six times four equals…”
“I dont knooooowwww,” she whined.
“You dont have to know. You make some dots—six dots, four times. Like four dice.” He did it really fast on the margin of the paper. “Then you count them up. Here, you count. Really fast.”
Jill took the pencil and bounced it over the dots. “Twenty-three!”
“Are you sure? Better check.”
“Oh, twenty-four.”
“Thats right! Six times four is twenty-four. So write that down and erase the dots.”
She did, and they went on to the next one, which Jill did.
“I dont think shes supposed to do that. I think theyre supposed to memorize them.”
They both looked at me like I was some kind of narc.
“She will. Eventually. Meanwhile, whatever gets you through math class, right Warrior Princess?”
“Right! Im gonna get this done cause then I can play with my Barbies. You wanna stay and play Barbies when I get done?”
“Um…Ill stay for a while, but Ill probably have to go before Barbie time. Sorry.”
“Man, thats tough,” I said. “Maybe some other time.”
Dylan narrowed his eyes at me, but he was smiling. Then it faded. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you about what happened in the cafeteria today.”
I felt myself go stiff. Dylans nice to my sister and finally proves hes a human. Great. But he was the last person with whom I wanted to discuss my latest school-related trauma. So I went into defense mode. “You want to know if its true? Why, you got a sister?”
“Look, Marcos an ass. No one disputes this; Ive just been around him so long that Im used to it. I mean, hes also been a dick forever, so I guess I never expect him to grow up and behave like a person.”
“If you came in here to apologize for Marco—”
“I came to apologize for me. I should have said something.”
Well, that was unexpected.“Like what?”
“Like, I dont know. „Shut the hell up, asshole, probably.” Then he grimaced. “Eyes on your homework, kid, and keep your ears shut.” To me he said, “Sorry,” in a stage whisper.
“Im sure shes heard worse. And if its that easy, dont worry about it. Ill say it myself next time.” Nothings ever that easy, but I did not want Dylan to pity me because Marco picked on me. That was not the kind of attention I wanted.
No attention was what I wanted, I had to remind myself.
“I just wanted you to know—”
The security buzzer went off again, and we all looked over to see Marco striding in. Next customer, talking gorilla. How about that? His eyes scanned the store and when he found Dylan, standing with us at the check out, he seemed surprised and kinda pissed off.
“Hey, I thought we were meeting up at the record store. Whatre you doin in here?”
“Ill be over in a few minutes.”
“Come over now. That hot chick from the college is workin tonight.”
“Ill be over in a few. Go ahead.”
“Why, you buyin something?”
“No, Im talking to Joss.”
“Why?” he asked, like hed rather shovel horse dung than talk to me, a feeling which was entirely mutual. “Look, Joss, you can come too. But I dont think shes quite your type. Or, wait, youd be the butch, right?”
“Shut the hell up, asshole,” was about all I could think to say.
“You should come. Maybe shed be into you. I think Id like to see that.”
“All right, thats it. Were leaving.” Dylan came around the counter and grabbed Marco by the back of the neck. It wasnt a power play. Dylans a big guy and hes taller, but Marcos big too, stocky. I was pretty sure he could have broken Dylans hold easily, if hed wanted to. Instead hed gotten his way and let Dylan guide him to the door. “Goodnight, Joss,” Dylan called over his shoulder. “Bye, kid.” The door security gave out a long buzz and the door swung shut again.
It was hard to see them past the glass because it was dark outside and so bright inside, but I saw Marco knock Dylans arm away.
“Do you think he likes me?” Jill asked.
“I think hes too old for you.”
There was some intense conversation between them for a few moments, and I saw Dylan give Marco a shove. Not hard enough to throw him off balance, more like just to make a point. I wondered what his point was.
“Do you think Dylan likes you?”
“No.”
Marco said something else, got the last word in, and turned to walk across the bricks to Vinyl Salvation.
As always, Dylan followed.

* * *

I hope you enjoyed this excerpt from Hush Money, Talent Chronicles #1. Search for the full novel of approximately 50,000 words, in ebook or paperback, at most major retailers, or visit http://susan-bischoff.com for a list of retailers with direct links.

Heroes ’Til Curfew, Talent Chronicles #2 , coming in 2011, is the sequel to Hush Money and continues the story of Joss, Dylan, and their Talent friends and enemies. Please visit http://susan-bischoff.com for the latest release information.

Impulse Control is a short story set in one of the State Schools in the Talent Chronicles world.

In the world of the Talent Chronicles, kids born with supernatural powers are taken from their families and forced into government research facilities called State Schools. At one such school, a group of Talents must work together to stop a dangerous experiment that’s already killed two of their peers and threatens others. If they’re caught they face Detention,

and Detention at a State School has a whole different meaning.

 

The complete story of approximately 12,000 words is available for free here on Free-Ebooks.net and elsewhere.

 

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