Jack_ Secret Vengeance - F. Paul Wilson [63]
She leaned closer. “You should realize that ‘miracles’ very often happen for a reason.”
“What sort of reason? My father—”
“There are times when something needs to happen, and so what needs doing gets done, no matter what. Obstacles are removed, plans are undone, sometimes in a ‘miraculous’ or ‘accidental’ fashion.”
She was sounding a little too much like Mr. Drexler now. Movers and Moved …
“What are we talking about here? What needed doing?”
“You, perhaps.”
“Me? Who needs me?”
“Perhaps no one. Perhaps the entire world. An important word to remember in this case is ‘perhaps.’”
Jack felt like he’d entered the Bizarro World, but that wasn’t a complete surprise with Mrs. Clevenger. She always seemed to talk in circles.
She held up a finger. “A singular event occurs. A threatening event. It triggers other events, defensive moves. Perhaps one of those moves was your conception.”
“Me?” Unease wormed through his gut. “Why me? What for?”
She shrugged. “Maybe for nothing. Maybe as a contingency. Maybe just one of a number of contingencies for use against a potential future threat. Perhaps you will face that threat, perhaps not.”
He forced a laugh. “What comes next? You tell me I have hidden magical powers that I must use only for good?”
She didn’t seem to think it was funny. She shook her head. “You have no magic, but you are special in your blood and in how you use your brain.”
Jack had heard enough. She was a crazy old woman who had a knack for sounding like she knew more than she really did. He wasn’t going to learn anything useful here—because useful right now meant finding a way to open Toliver’s lock.
He hopped up from the bench.
“Nice talking to you, Mrs. Clevenger, but I’ve gotta go.”
“Of course you do. You’re a busy young man. Go on about the business of being a boy. Now is the time to enjoy every day. For one thing is certain about joy—it never lasts.”
Now there’s a cheery send-off, Jack thought as he turned away. But a thought popped into his head and he turned back.
“Say, you wouldn’t know how to dissolve Krazy Glue, would you?”
She didn’t even blink as she said, “Acetone.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Cool!”
6
Jack picked through the entire inventory of the lock section in Spurlin’s Hardware until he found a two-inch, laminated-steel Master padlock exactly like Toliver’s. In fact, he found three.
He carried all of them plus two tubes of Krazy Glue to the front counter.
Mr. Spurlin grinned and said, “What’s up, Jack? Building a new Fort Knox?”
He was a chubby guy with a salt-and-pepper beard.
“Just replacing some old locks.”
This was a potentially risky move. Jack didn’t know where Toliver had bought his lock. Could have been right here. What if he came back for another and found them all gone? He might ask and Mr. Spurlin might say Jack had bought them. Might even mention the Krazy Glue too. And then Jack’s ass would be grass.
Even though the chances of that happening were way remote, Jack was still uneasy about it. If he could drive he’d have bought his supplies in another town. But with only a bike, it was Spurlin’s or nothing.
As he paid for the locks and glue, he pointed to the tubes and said, “If I, um, spill some Krazy Glue, what’s a good way to get it off?”
“Wicked stuff. Keep it off your hands. It’ll glue your fingers together like you wouldn’t believe. Did you know it was used to close battlefield wounds in Nam?”
Jack had heard something like that.
“Yeah, but what takes it off?”
He frowned and scratched his jaw. “Acetone’s the only thing I know.”
So Mrs. Clevenger was right.
“Got any?”
“Afraid not. But most nail polish removers are basically acetone. Use some of that.”
He was sure his mother had some.
Operation Toliver was not dead yet.
7
As soon as Jack got home he set up shop in the garage. He spread the classified section of the Sunday paper on the battered workbench, borrowed a hammer and a couple of little tacks from his father’s toolbox, some nail polish remover from his mother’s dresser, and went to work.
The first thing to do was test the shims. Once he