Tarnished Armor
Part 116

The park. The secret bench. Early evening.

Junior sits on the bench, swinging his legs back and forth.

Amanda comes up the path.

Amanda: What’s going on?

Junior: Thanks for coming.

Amanda: I gotta be home for dinner in half an hour.

Junior: Me too.

Amanda: So what’s up?

Junior: I need a favor. A lot of favors.

Amanda: How big?

Junior: Big.

Amanda: Big like you’ll buy me ice cream from the truck for a week, or big like when we’re in high school you’ll tell your dorky friends to hold the door for me?

Junior: Both.

Amanda: Okay. I can deal with that.

Junior: It’s a secret. And you could get in trouble.

Amanda: What kind of trouble?

Junior: Not as big as me, but something like being grounded.

Amanda: Okay, spill. What’s the deal?

Junior: Jake only let Liza see Colby for ten minutes today.

Amanda: That stinks. Why’d he do that?

Junior: She was late, but I mean, come on.

Amanda: Yeah.

Junior: So I thought we could do something like we did today, but in a much bigger way.

Amanda: Take Colby to see her mom?

Junior: Yeah.

Amanda: I’m in.

Junior: I’m not sure how to do it. We’ve got to find a place, we’ve got to find a way to get Liza there, and we’ve got to be able to get Colby away from Jake long enough to do it.

Amanda: You haven’t thought about this at all, have you?

Junior: I just came up with the idea. Give me a break.

Amanda: Okay. Give me a second.

Amanda sits down on the bench and thinks.

Junior: I figure we’d better do it soon, before anyone is on to us.

Amanda: Tomorrow.

Junior: Tomorrow?

Amanda: It’s do-able. Okay. Remember Cheryl?

Junior: Your camp counselor?

Amanda: Please, she’s a friend. I was a flower girl at her wedding. Anyway, she’s still got some keys to the camp buildings. I could borrow them -- I’ll say I’m looking for an old arts and crafts project or something -- and we could meet there.

Junior: Ride our bikes?

Amanda: You want to walk?

Junior: It’s a long ride.

Amanda: It takes half an hour by car. How long could it be by bike? Are you that wimpy that you think you can’t make it? ‘Cause I can.

Junior: No. I can make it.

Amanda: Good. I’ll get the keys tomorrow morning.

Junior: Tomorrow’s good anyway, because Jamie will be with his mom.

Amanda: Okay. Who’s Liza hanging around with lately?

Junior: What do you mean?

Amanda: Every time I see her, she’s got a new best friend. Who’s she hanging around with now?

Junior: I think Belinda Keefer. That’s who called Jake to make the appointment for Liza.

Amanda: Really? That makes my job a lot easier. Maybe I can get Belinda to swing getting Liza there.

Junior: What if she won’t do it?

Amanda: You have a better idea?

Junior: No.

Amanda: I’ll ask Belinda. She’s good at keeping her mouth shut, too. If I can’t do it, I’ll call. If I can, I’ll see you at 10 o'clock tomorrow morning at the boathouse.

Junior: What about Jake?

Amanda: Jake is your problem. I can’t think of everything. But Ex-Lax in his breakfast or chewing gum in his hair is a good place to start. Are Tad and your mom going to be home?

Junior: No. They’re going to be here.

Amanda: The secret bench?

Junior: The park. Roller-blading.

Amanda rolls her eyes.

Junior: I know.

Amanda: At least it gets them out of the way.

Amanda gets up.

Amanda: I gotta get going.

Junior: Thanks for coming. Thanks for helping.

Amanda: No problem. Don’t forget: if I don’t call, it’s 10 o’clock at the boathouse.

Junior: Okay.

Amanda: Check.

Junior: What?

Amanda: You say “check” when it’s a secret mission.

Junior: Check.

Amanda: You’ve got possibilities, AJ.

Amanda hurries down the path. After a moment, Junior makes his way down the path, too.


******


Belinda’s apartment.

Liza watches Belinda pick at a plate full of cookies.

Liza: So I have two weeks, right?

Belinda: Right.

Belinda picks up a cookie.

Liza: And then Judge Carson makes her decision?

Belinda: Right. I like Judge Carson. She never lets anyone get away with anything. Makes things easier when you’re on the right side. Plus, her father was a judge, so she’s been figuring out all of the convoluted turns that the law can take for years.

Belinda takes a bite of the cookie and gets a strange look on her face. She chews slowly. Finally, she swallows.

Then she puts the remainder of the cookie back on the plate, and she picks up the entire plate and walks over to the garbage can in the kitchen.

Belinda tilts the plate and dumps all of the cookies into the garbage.

Liza: That bad?

Belinda: You can’t bake. We’d better go to Grandma’s Donuts so we can take care of the dessert issue.

The phone rings.

Belinda: I bet that’s Grandma now. She must have smelled your cookies.

Liza rolls her eyes and goes to the phone.

Liza picks up the phone.

Liza: Keefer Insult Factory. ... No. It was a joke. A bad joke. ... Liza. Who’s this? ... Oh. Yeah, she’s right here.

Liza puts down the phone and goes to Belinda.

Liza: Amanda Dillon. For you.

Belinda: Amanda?

Liza: Yes.

Belinda goes over to the phone and picks it up.

Belinda (into phone): Amanda? ... Why are you whispering? ... No, I can hear you. ... Yes. Why? ... Oh.

Belinda looks at Liza.

Belinda (into phone): I see. ... Right. ... Yes, I know where it is. ... I could. I could do that. Hold on a second.

Belinda covers the phone with her hand.

Belinda: Liza? This is going to take a while. Social studies question. Civil rights. Could you run out and get some donuts?

Liza: I’m a delivery boy now?

Belinda: Please. I can’t not help her.

Liza: I must like you a lot.

Belinda: Yes, and you should.

Liza goes to the closet and gets her coat. She leaves.

Belinda picks up the phone again.

Belinda: Amanda? ... All clear. Now I need a favor from you. ... That’s what I thought you’d say. ... I need you to call back in an hour. If Liza picks up, hang up. And then try back in five minutes. If I pick up, just stay on the line and don’t say anything. Okay? ... You’re very good at this. And I think it’s the best thing for both of them. ... Okay. ... What? ... Oh. Check.

Belinda hangs up the phone.

Tarnished Armor Index
Part One Hundred and Fifteen
Part One Hundred and Seventeen