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They said there was some young kid lurking around
with a ‘sinister look.’”
    The other man laughed. “‘Sinister look?’ I
love it.”
    “I still can’t believe it, though. Longboard
Key ... who would’ve thought.”
    “I know. This is the first major crime scene
here since I’ve been on the force.”
    A third man entered the conversation. “We
just got an ID on the kid, one John Popielarski. Goes to high
school right across the water. We’re pulling the address now.”
    John stood in horror as he heard the man say
his name.
    “Used to be teenagers just broke windows with
fly balls. I’ll send Charlie over there to pick him up.”
    Maybe it was homicide , John thought, even if it was an accident .
    John quietly, but quickly, paced back and
forth behind the door. I need to get home , he thought. I
have to tell Mom what’s happening before the police show up and
freak her out even more . He knew there wasn’t much time to do
it. Looking out into the warehouse once more, he saw the small team
of officers who’d been speaking walk back toward Virgil’s
office.
    John pushed the bathroom door open slowly,
but despite his best efforts, a loud squeak escaped from its upper
hinge. Not waiting to see if anyone had heard it, he rushed from
the room and moved back toward the ell where Virgil had left the
scooter. He was relieved not to hear the sound of frantic footsteps
racing to catch him as he ran.
    John approached the corner, and on blind
faith, whipped around it recklessly, hoping no lingering officers
awaited him on the other side. There were none.
    Thank God , he thought. The silver
scooter sat against opposite wall, alone and unmoved.
    John took it by the front handles and quietly
rolled it toward the back door. He decided not to press his luck
further by starting its engine while still inside the
warehouse.
    As soon as the back door closed behind him,
John mounted the scooter and jammed his key into its ignition. He’d
never driven a scooter before, but took to it easily. After slowly
piloting the machine in a circle twice, John decided that he was
ready for Longboard Key’s twenty-miles-per-hour road. Without
another thought, he sped across the lot, down the curb, and into
the street, hoping he could make it home before the police found
his address.
    Ten minutes later, John’s house appeared
ahead of him in the distance. A car was pulling out from the
driveway. It was too dark outside to determine the make or color,
and at first he thought he was too late, that the law had beaten
him there. He imagined them driving away with his mother to
question her about birthing and harboring a known murderer. He sped
up.
    Drawing closer, John was surprised to make
the car in front of him as his mother’s own blue sedan, picking up
speed and roaring down the road away from him.
    He raised his left arm to wave as he called
out to her. “Hey!” he yelled. “Hey, Mom! Come back!” Without his
left hand to help steer the scooter, its front wheel pulled sharply
to the right, sending John tumbling from his seat to the asphalt
below.
    He quickly rolled back onto his feet and
looked out at the empty street in front of him. It was too late to
hail the fast moving car, now a mile away from him down Longboard
Road.
    John sighed and lifted the scooter upright.
As he wheeled the vehicle toward his house, he noticed that the
front door had been left open. Curious and worried, he dropped the
scooter in the grass of his front lawn and ran inside.
    The house was empty, but not quiet. His
mother had left the television on in the living room in front of a
still-steaming mug of tea. He looked around the area perplexed,
wondering what could have caused her to leave with such haste. A
news report blaring out from the television gave the answer.
     
    Authorities in Clearwater, FL have reported
twelve dead and twelve more injured after a bus headed from
Tallahassee fell off an elevated road and crashed to the ground
approximately thirty