Instant Fear
by David Hooper

CHAPTER ONE

"I'm gonna' see the Candy Man!"

Jermaine Fisher stared in amazement as Casey White grabbed the bar on the seat in front of him and bounced up and down in an uncontrollable frenzy.  Casey White was a short, pudgy kid and had the typical features and mannerisms of Down syndrome.  This was Casey's first year on the regular school bus, and Jermaine had been appointed his bus buddy so he could watch over him on the way to and from school.  He wondered if he could be Casey White's bus buddy.

Jermaine smiled and took a mock swing at Casey's shoulder.  "Sit down, Casey.  We don't do that on the bus."  Jermaine pulled on Casey's arm to guide him into his seat.  "What do you mean?  Your momma is going to meet you and take you some place, man?"

Casey shook his head and grinned.  "Nope, my momma can't meet me today, so I'm going to see the Candy Man."  Casey's mischievous smile and his small round eyes, alive with excitement, told Jermaine that something was wrong.

Jermaine looked at Casey and said, "Wait a second, man.  What do you mean your momma isn't going to meet you?  Where is she?  They told me she'd always be at the bus stop for you."

Casey shook his head and his thick lips stretched into a wide smile.  "She's sick today.  My Uncle brought me to the bus.  He's at work, so I'm going to see the Candy Man."

The kid behind them sat up and grabbed the back of the seat.  "Who's the Candy Man?"

Jermaine waved his hand for the kid to sit back down.  "Leave it alone, man.  You ain't going to get any candy.  Casey ain't going to get any candy because he's going to go straight home--right, Casey?"  Casey doubled over in his seat, held his belly, and laughed.  Jermaine grabbed Casey by the shoulders and leaned over within inches of his face.  "Come on, man.  You can't do this.  Look--if we're going to be buddies, you gotta' tell me about the Candy Man. I'm supposed to watch out for you and I don't want to get into trouble.  You're going to be my friend, right?"

Casey stopped and said, "We friends, Jermaine.  You're my buddy."

Casey's tongue slipped in and out of his mouth when he spoke and sprayed Jermaine with a fine mist.  Jermaine sat back up, grabbed the bottom of his tee shirt, and wiped his face.  He gave Casey an irritated look.

"Now, who's this Candy Man, Casey?"  Casey sat still, his mouth open, and Jermaine leaned forward and whispered through clinched teeth.  "Tell me about the Candy Man."

"There's no Candy Man," Casey answered.  "I teasing."

Jermaine peered into Casey's face to see if he was lying.  "You sure?" he asked.

"I'm sure."  Casey said, a blank look on his face.  He folded his hands, nodded his head, and looked down at the floor.  "I not going to the Candy Man, Jermaine.  You my friend."

Casey looked up as the bus jerked and their bodies were shoved forward as the bus came to a stop.

"My stop.  My stop!"  Casey pushed past Jermaine to fall in line behind the group of kids getting off the bus.  He turned to wave at Jermaine.  "Bye, Jermaine.  You're my friend."

Jermaine scooted over to the window seat, his broad nose flattened against the glass to watch Casey zigzag and blend into the throng of kids.  He felt uncomfortable as the back of Casey's head disappeared.  Jermaine picked up his backpack and started to follow Casey, but the bus jerked his head back as it pulled away from the curb.  His eyes continued to search for Casey until the bus turned the corner.

*  *  *

Jermaine lived with his mother.  His dad had been a firefighter until he was killed in a chemical explosion.  Jermaine was young when it happened, but some of his dad's firefighter friends tried to help his mother and him from time to time.  She shunned them after she got a drug habit.  They now lived in a rundown apartment building in the Northeast part of town and he never saw his dad's friends anymore.  The dark red brick apartment building had a tattered screened-in porch and the white paint on the round porch columns had chipped away to expose bare gray wood.

His mom said he looked like his Dad; tall and lanky with a large flat nose and ears that almost appeared tapered on the ends.  He was serious like his dad, but he didn't know if that was good or bad.  His grandmother said that was good because it would help him with his schoolwork and keep him out of trouble.  He liked it when they lived with his grandmother after his father died, but they moved when the two women had a falling out

Jermaine trudged up the narrow staircase to the third floor and opened the door to find his momma's boyfriend, Ira, on the couch.  He didn't like Ira.  Tall and thin, Ira wore his hair in a 'fro' like they did in the seventies when his mom was young.  He had a thin mustache, a small goatee, and dark narrow eyes that looked out of place.  His front teeth were gold capped and one a gold star cutout.  Jermaine thought Ira looked crazy.

"Where's Mom?"  Jermaine threw his book bag and coat on the floor as he walked into the kitchen.  The table was piled high with trash, empty beer cans lined the counter, and the sink overflowed with dirty dishes.  Cockroaches scrambled everywhere when he entered the room.

"Where do you think, kid?  She's working--making money.  That's something you need to be doing instead of hanging around here."

Jermaine ignored the remark and opened the refrigerator.  The bare shelves held Ira's beer, an opened carton of milk, a bottle of ketchup, and a large white package of lunch meat.

"Don't get that corned beef!  You hear me?"  Ira yelled.  "I didn't get that for you to go munching on.  Your momma and I are going to have that tonight while we watch the movie, and I'd appreciate it if you'd stay in your room."

Jermaine gritted his teeth and slammed the refrigerator door.  He grabbed the loaf of stale bread on the counter to make a peanut butter sandwich and rummaged through the drawer for a clean knife.  He couldn't understand why his mother liked Ira.  Jermaine attempted to talk to her about him, but she'd just tell him to shut up because he didn't understand her needs.  He understood more than she knew.  He'd seen the small, unfolded paper packets that failed to flush down the toilet in her attempt to erase the traces of her drug addiction.  She denied taking drugs when confronted and she told him that he didn't respect his mama.  Ira gave her enough drugs to keep her happy, and she gave him a place to live.  Jermaine didn't understand how Ira made his money since he didn't take drugs, didn't have a reputation on the street of selling drugs, and had never been in trouble with the police.

"I'm clean, kid--in the middle--the main man's messenger," he would say with a proud smirk splashed across his face.

Jermaine wandered back into the living room, took a bite of his sandwich, and stood behind the couch.  Ira bellowed a loud, offensive laugh as two scantily clad women pulled each other around the stage while the crowd roared their approval on the Jerry Springer show.  Jermaine shook his head and picked up his book bag to carry it to the dining room table to start his homework when the phone rang.

Ira grabbed the phone, irritated about the interruption, and growled.  "Yeah--Yeah--wait a minute.  Boy."  He dropped the cordless phone on the back of the couch and went back to his show.

Jermaine dropped his book bag and picked up the phone.  "Hello."

"Jermaine, this is Mrs. White, Casey's mother.  Did Casey get off the bus tonight?"

Her voice intonation betrayed her desperation.  Jermaine had an image of Casey on the bus and full of excitement about meeting the Candy Man. Jermaine hesitated before he answered.  "Yes, ma'am, he got off the bus like he always does.  He told me he was going to walk home by himself because you were sick and his uncle was at work.  Isn't he home?"

Mrs. White gasped and Jermaine heard a soft sob.

"Did he say anything, Jermaine?  I told him to ask you if you could walk him home.  Casey don't think straight sometimes, you know.  Did he say anything about going home with anybody, or going somewhere?"

"He said something about a Candy Man, but when I asked him about it, he told me he was teasing.  He was real excited today.  Do you know a Candy Man?"  He regretted asking such a stupid question.

"The Candy Man?  I don't know anything about a Candy Man!  Did he say anything else?"  Her muffled voice choked back tears.

"No, he just said he was teasing, but I didn't believe him.  I thought about getting off the bus with him, but the bus had already started to move again.  I--I'm sorry, Mrs. White, I should have walked Casey home."

"Did you see where he went when he got off the bus?  Did he head for home or go off with some of the other kids?"  Her voice sounded hopeful, but when he didn't answer she moaned, "Oh, my God."

The line went dead.

Jermaine ran back into the living room, grabbed his coat off the floor, and headed for the front door.

"Hey, where you going, kid?  Your momma told me I had to look after you."

Jermaine ignored Ira.  Ira didn't care what he was doing or where he was going.

Jermaine struggled with his coat as he shouted over his shoulder.  "I'm going to go find this white kid from school."

Ira shouted after him, as he ran out the door, but the sound of Jermaine's tennis shoes hitting the wooden steps drowned out his voice.

*  *  *