Slow Dance in Purgatory(11)

“Thank you for coming by, Mr. Jasper. I just wanted to follow up with you to check if you’d seen anything else at the school that might have struck you as out of the ordinary.” Chief Bailey raised his eyebrows hopefully at the uncomfortable young man.

“Well…. “ Gus Jasper had a soft voice with more than a hint of Alabama in its cadence. “I don’t know if I’ve been there long enough to know what ordinary is…but…“ He stopped and looked down at his hands.

“But what?” Chief Bailey prodded.

“Well, there are times when I feel like maybe someone’s been in the school. A few times I’ll go into a room I’ve just cleaned, and I’ll find a book on a desk that wasn’t there before or something that has been moved. Yesterday, I stocked all the classrooms with erasers and chalk, getting ready for Monday, ya know? Today every chalkboard had the name Johnny Kinross written on it.”

Chief Bailey felt a damp chill skitter down his neck and across his back.

“I’m sure it’s just kids messin’ with me, “ Gus continued, “but I don’t know how kids could get in. The school has been re-keyed since the boy died. I don’t have keys. Mr. Marshall, the principal, he lets me in every day and locks up behind me.”

“Did you show Mr. Marshall the chalkboards?” Chief Bailey questioned.

“I did.” Gus paused and seemed reluctant to continue. “I think Mr. Marshall thought I did it. He wasn’t very happy. He told me if it happened again, I would be fired.”

Chief Bailey liked Principal Marshall even less than he had about ten seconds ago, which was not at all. Principal Marshall was a skinny, small-minded, bully. How he had risen through the ranks of educators to become the principal was beyond comprehension. Kids in Honeyville deserved better.

“I see.” Chief Bailey sighed and leaned forward in his rickety desk chair. “From now on, when you see something that doesn’t feel right or find something that might help us find Johnny Kinross, would you just come to me? It doesn’t matter how small. If Principal Marshall has a problem with that, you just refer him to me, all right? Principal Marshall and I go way back.” Way back to when Mr. Marshall was a squeaky new math teacher and Clark Bailey was a smart alecky senior making his life miserable. Chief Bailey smirked at the memory.

“Thank you, sir. I’ll do that.” Gus sat quietly for a minute, waiting for further questions. When none were forthcoming, he arose and turned to leave.

“Sir?” Gus said softly.

“Yeah, Mr. Jasper?”

“What do you think happened to that boy?”

“Hell if I know, Mr. Jasper. Hell if I know.”





4


“CAN ANYONE EXPLAIN?”

The Ames Brothers - 1950





November, 2010




A week passed with nary a whiff of anything remotely ghostie. Shad had a bad cold and hadn't been to work for several days. It had been a little lonely....and very peaceful without him around. Maggie and Gus went about their nightly duties – Gus happily, Maggie decidedly less so, but trying bravely to enjoy emptying trashes and scraping gum from underneath desks. Every once in a while Gus would play some oldies over the sound system, and Maggie would boogie her way through her chores a little more cheerfully. That night she had been serenaded by some truly ancient doo-wop, and a girl really couldn’t swing by herself. It was time to make some suggestions to the D.J.

“So, Gus?” Maggie smiled up at the old janitor as they closed and locked the supply closet for the night. “I really like your song choices, but I was thinking I need to bring you into the 21st century. I mean, you have great taste and all, but I wouldn’t mind some Rhianna or Maroon 5 sometimes.”

“Now, how do you know what my song choices are, Miss Margaret?” Gus laughed a little. “Miss Rhianna is one of my favorites. You be thinkin’ I don’t know modern music?” Gus did a quick shimmy and shake and a shuffle ball change. Not exactly Usher but pretty darn good for an old guy.

“I know your song choices because 'you be' playin’ stuff that Elvis could dance to!” Maggie did her own swivel hips impression and “thank you very much” lip curl.

“What you talkin’ about, Miss Margaret? “ Gus tilted his head at Maggie and furrowed his brow in question. “I haven’t been playin’ any music. Although I definitely could! Bet you don’t know any old-school moves.” Gus crossed one leg over the other and did a little spin. The guy had to be over seventy. Maggie laughed at his agility.

“I think you stole that from the Temptations, Gus. And yes, I can do old school.” Maggie started doing the Charleston, and Gus laughed right out loud and joined her. After a few minutes, they were both giggling and a little breathless.

Maggie elbowed the old man as they neared the side entrance where Gus’s rusty truck and Maggie’s bike was parked. “And what do you mean you haven’t been playing music? The night I saw the intruder the music got turned on so loud it almost blasted me down the stairs.”

Gus stopped walking and was suddenly very still, staring down at her. The laughter had fled from his lined face.

“You’re not playin’ are you, Miss Margaret?“ It wasn’t really a question, but a realization. “How often are you hearing music?”