The first stop Jason Chambers made after the results from his drug test came back clean was his dealer’s house in Manchester.
He shuffled, slightly nervous, as he rang the doorbell of the brownstone. There were two cars outside, including his dealer’s car, but the doorbell went unanswered for a good minute or two.
Eventually, his dealer Rip answered, and motioned for him to come in. Rip led Jason through a small hall way into his living room area. Two guys, dressed in khaki pants, dress shirts and ties, were sitting on the sofa, playing X Box drinking Corona’s.
There was a bong sitting in front of them on the coffee table, but no one was smoking. Jason thought about asking for a hit, but Rip had a stern look on his face so he didn’t.
“Clay, Julian this is a guy I know from campus, Jason,” Rip said. “Jason, that’s Clay and Julian. Come on, follow me to my bedroom.”
Jason did as was told, but when Rip shut the door behind them he hissed, “I thought I told you to always call first before showing up.”
“I’m out of bars on the cell and I don’t have my car charger dude,” Jason said.
“Well, it’s really not cool for you to be here right now, so let’s hurry the fuck up,” Rip said. “You got something for me?”
“I can’t stay long anyway,” Jason said. “I have to be back at the academy for some kind of chaperone meeting tonight.”
Jason reached into his pocket and handed Rip a wad of cash. Rip picked it up and did a quick count and sighed.
“Fuck dude, where’s the rest of it?” Rip asked.
“There’s five hundred there from what I owe you, plus three hundred for the eight ball and that other thing we talked about,” Jason said.
“Yes, but you still owe me a thousand,” Rip said, exasperated.
“I’ll have that after the job,” Jason said.
“What are you doing anyway, something at that weird ass prep school for diplomats or something,” Rip asked.
“Yeah,” Jason said. “They’re having a camping trip for Thanksgiving. I have to drive them up. I’ll settle up after I get paid for that. If I can get my uncle to advance me some more, I’ll bring it by before I leave.”
“Fine,” muttered Rip, begrudgingly.
With that, Rip handed Jason a small bottle, almost a vial.
“So tell me how this works again?” Jason said.
“It’s hash oil,” Rip said. “It’s very strong, very concentrated. All you do is dip a cigarette in, give it about five minutes to dry and light it up and smoke it.”
“It doesn’t put out a lot of smell,” Jason asked. “It’s not going to smell like I’m smoking a joint is it?”
“Dip it in a clove cigarette and no one would be able to tell anything,” Rip said.
“Cool,” Jason said, as Rip opened up a baggy full of cocaine.
“You have a cigarette cellophane?” Rip asked.
“No,” Jason said. “You don’t have another baggy.”
Again, Rip groaned, and dug an empty baggy out of his top drawer. Rip also dumped a generous pile onto an old Depeche Mode album cover and handed it to Jason. “Here,” Rip said, “crunch some of that up while I measure this out for you.”
Jason did as told, crunching the tiny rocks into fine powder. After he was finished he cut six nice sized lines and tried to hand Rip the album cover.
“Go ahead and do your three,” Rip said. “In fact just do them all. I’m really good right now. We just smoked some killer hydroponic out of the bong. I don’t want to fuck up that buzz with coke right now.”
Jason didn’t need any further invitation. He snorted all six lines in short order, gagging for a second on the last line.
“Greedy fucker,” said Rip, laughing. “It serves you right. You got the gack.”
“But you said for me to,” Jason protested.
“I was kidding,” Rip said, handing Jason the eight ball of cocaine.
“Thanks,” Jason said. “It would be a long drive without blow. I owe you one.”
“You owe me one thousand brother,” Rip said. “And it better be quick, or there will be penalty wages, or worse. You follow me?”
Jason could see Rip wasn’t fucking around.
“I follow you,” Jason said. “You’ll get it.”
“I know I will,” Rip said. “In the infamous words of Blondie, I will get it, one way or another.”
—— ——- ——
William Chambers was completely in his element, as entertainer extraordinaire, as he led parent chaperones through the itinerary for the Thanksgiving camping trip.
If he had any concerns at all about the incidents in the southwest quadrant, or about the subsequent suicide of Max’s second in command, he certainly hid them like a master magician. Nor did Chambers even blink an eye when his nephew, Jason, came ambling into the meeting late, mumbling a half-assed apology.
The meeting was held in the cafeteria, where Bertha had set up a spread consisting of cheeses, fruit, pastries, hot roast beef sandwiches, wine and coffee.
Chambers kicked the meeting off with a long soliloquy about tradition. From that point, he veered into the importance of the holiday season, while reminding the chaperones of their responsibilities to the children. Eventually, he then broke into the specifics of the trip, and describing it as an adventure, since the usual camping area would be closed.
In addition to Ryan, Trisha Ellis and Victoria Davenport, one other parent would be joining them as a chaperone, Manuel Escobar, whose wife worked for the United Nations and whose daughter, Pilar, attended Piedmont. Manuel Escobar was a middle-aged and easy-going real estate agent, who was generally liked and accepted by the other parents. He and Ryan had, on occasion, co-hosted several “dad poker nights” at a local tavern near Portsmouth.
Chambers also announced that Bertha would be accompanying them on the trip.
He did this just as she had laid out a tray of pastries. She smiled and said, “Now Mr. Chambers, I couldn’t impose on you folks like that. Besides, what’s an old woman like me going to do out in the woods?”
To which Chambers answered, “The same thing an old man like me will do, enjoy the holiday and the spirit of the great outdoors.”
Ryan couldn’t be sure, but he thought he saw a look of fear cross Bertha’s face.
Chambers continued, “We are like family here, Bertha. I would not dream of leaving you behind. Besides, who would help us roast a goose and prepare stuffing and chutney. I dare say we’d probably all starve to death if you didn’t come along Bertha. Will you please come?”
Eventually, Bertha nodded and said she would.
Satisfied, Chambers went back to discussing the itinerary.
“I haven’t mapped it out yet, but the route we will take will be across New Hampshire and then basically a straight shot up into Maine,” Chambers said. “I figure, it’ll be a two or three day drive. With us all caravanning, there’s no point in driving ourselves ragged. We can get a hotel room for the night or nights on our way up. I will be running a Google search or Map Quest or one of those Internet things to solidify our route. I guess the next question I have involves vehicles. How many should we bring?”
“The bus will carry the kids and most of the gear, is that correct?” asked Manuel?”
Chambers nodded.
“Well that would leave Dr. Davenport, Mrs. Ellis, Bertha, you, Ryan and myself,” Manuel said. “That’s six of us.”
“My van will ride six comfortably,” Chambers said.
“And,” suggested Victoria, “one or two of us can ride in the bus to help keep an eye on the kids.”
“Sounds good,” Chambers said.
With that, the formal part of the meeting broke up.
Ryan walked over to the food table, where Trisha and Victoria stood chatting. As Ryan approached, he heard her tell Victoria, “Well, I’ll leave you two alone.”
She spun and walked away, as Victoria and Ryan looked at each other grinning.
“I could just kill her,” Victoria said. “She…”
Ryan smiled and said, “No need to explain anything. And there’s no need for this to be awkward. We are, after all, two consenting adults. If it’s any consolation, William’s been doing the same thing.”
“Has he really?” she asked. “What is it with these people? They’ve all become little matchmakers. As if we couldn’t get our own dates if we wanted to.”
“Yeah, really,” Ryan said. “We’re perfectly capable of this on our own. That’s if you wanted to…”
Suddenly Ryan’s voice trailed off and he realized what he was doing.
“Are you asking me out on a date Ryan?” Victoria asked.
“Come to think of it, I think I am,” he said. “That’s not a bad thing, is it?”
“No,” Victoria said, grinning and, despite herself, feeling as giddy as a school girl. “No, not at all.”
“Good,” Ryan said. “For a second there I thought you were going to shoot me down. I’m not sure I would have been able to handle the rejection at this age. Dinner, tomorrow night around eight?”
“Sounds perfect,” she said.
As they continued to chat, William Chambers and Manuel Escobar poured over maps and the make-shift supply list that Chambers printed out before the meeting. Jason sat at the table next to them, still racing from the cocaine he’d done earlier, but tried to feign an interest in the planning.
Trisha bid everyone farewell, departed and the returned a few minutes later, and walked to the table where Chambers sat.
Surprised, Chambers looked up and asked, “Did you forget something, your keys perhaps?”
“No,” she said. “I’m afraid it’s worse than that. I’ve got a flat tire. I was wondering if I could recruit one of you big strong men for a little help.”
William rose from his seat and said, “Say no more.” Then he glanced at his nephew and said, “Since you’re going to be our driver and pinch hit mechanic, this might be good practice for you.”
Jason had been checking out Trisha Ellis for most of the evening, entranced by her green eyes, flowing black hair and tight pants. Not bad for an older lady, he kept thinking to himself throughout most of the evening.
With no further prompting, Jason rose to his feet and said, “I’d be happy to help. Uncle William, do we have a flashlight handy?”
“There’s a lot of fog rolling in,” Trisha said. “But, I’m parked under a light. I think you’ll have enough to work by.”
“Do you know what kind of a spare you have?” Jason asked.
“It’s just one of those little donut tires,” Trisha said. “I really hate driving on those things.”
“By all means,” William interjected. “Jason, after you help Mrs. Ellis, why don’t you follow her home, just to make sure she arrives safely.”
“Okay Uncle William,” Jason said, good-naturedly.
“I couldn’t impose like that,” replied Trisha, taking notice of Jason for the first time, looking at his taut chest muscles and arms.
“Really, it’s not a problem,” Jason said as they began to walk out of the cafeteria. “It sure beats hunkering down in the dorm, waiting for the trip.”
William approached Ryan and Victoria after he watched Jason escort Trisha Ellis out.
“Excuse me,” he said as they approached.
Victoria, who had noticed Jason walk Trisha out, said, “Oh William, you let the poor boy out alone with her.”
“Yes,” William said. “I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve done the right thing. I hope he doesn’t do anything to embarrass her, or himself for that matter. Ryan, perhaps you should go.”
“Ridiculous,” Victoria said. “Besides, I don’t think its Trisha we have to worry about. I think poor Jason might end up being the one with the problem.”
Ryan laughed and William leaned over and whispered in his ear, “I’m going to retire to the guard room. Meet us there as soon as you can wrap up here.”
Ryan nodded.
