Jay squinted as he looked up from the sheet taped to the handlebars of Indie’s bike. The sun was setting now, and it burned his eyes. He counted the minutes until it set so he could pedal in relative comfort. The paper flapped in the wind rushing past him and he looked down again. On it he had scribbled the date and time and address of where to meet the man. His legs burned as the road curved upwards yet again. He would just be on time if he didn’t stop.

The sun finally glinted below the horizon as Jay entered Timmins. The highway, still rough pavement this far in the boonies, ran straight down the middle of the town. Several side streets peeled off from the main road and Jay peered into the fresh gloom as he looked for Penniton Avenue. He turned left once he found his destined street.

The location he was instructed to meet the man at was a small strip mall that had an automatic laundromat, some greasy mom and pop café, and a tiny office. The silver lettering on the frosted glass was flaked and faded. Jay could just make out “Law Offices of--” followed by what he assumed was a name.

He popped the kickstand on the bike and pulled the water bottle out of the rack on the frame between his legs. Jay leaned forward and poured a quick squirt of water on the back of his head and let it drizzle down his face. He shook out his curls, now nearly ear length and wiped off his face with a handkerchief, which he then folded up neatly and tucked in his back pocket. It was as neat as he could make himself given the circumstances.

He glanced at his watch in nervous tension. It was a very quiet part of the tiny town and with no streetlights and no lights in the tiny parking lot it was getting quite dark.

The door to the office popped open, startling Jay.

“Jesus!” he exclaimed, taking a step back.

“James. Glad you made it.” The man held open the door for his guest and stood aside.

“How did you know my name was James?” Jay asked, sidling past the richly dressed man. He glanced into the ice blue eyes of the other man. “I go by Jay. Ain’t nobody call me James but my Pops when I’m about to get the thrashing of my life.” He murmured.

“I’m sorry, I was told by my contact that your name was James. I will make a note to call you Jay. Please, Jay, sit. Coffee?” He tilted his perfectly coiffed blond hair as he asked. Jay thought of how the man seemed tense and gruff the last time they met. The man seemed to be brighter, almost chipper as he made his way to a tiny kitchenette in the corner of the office. He frowned as the man pulled out a jar of ground coffee and a tiny coffee maker.

“At nine at night, sir?” he said, unsure what name to call the mysterious man.

“Would you prefer something harder?” He drew out a crystal tumbler and a bottle of whiskey. Jay’s eyes flicked to the amber bottle in hesitant desire and back to the man’s face. The smack of a belt reverberated in his mind. Finally, he nodded.

“Excellent.” The man poured him a few sips of whiskey and recapped the bottle. He returned the bottle to the cupboard and brought the heavy tumbler to Jay. He motioned for Jay to sit in one of the worn leather chairs in front of a huge dark wood desk. A micro layer of dust lay across the surface. The man drew a silk handkerchief with a flourish and had the grace to look ashamed. “I should have thought to dust. I apologize.” Jay half shrugged and took a sip of the whiskey, noting the man’s expensive suit and tie as the man sat himself across the desk.

“I ain’t bothered.” The alcohol scorched his chest, making him feel like a fire was burning in him. It reinforced his steadfastness.

“So, Jay. Tell me more about yourself.” The man said and folded his hands in front of him. Jay looked down and saw diamonds glint at the man’s cuffs and a large gold watch sparkled on his left wrist. The man's hands were a creamy, pale color and bore no trace of having done hard work.

“I dunno. I’m twenty years old, been working at the labor agency for two years. I’ve done all kinds of labor from the bakery to the garage to working on a farm outside of town. But I graduated with honors if that’s what you want to know.” He sipped the whisky again, assured that the man wanted a verbal resume.

“What made you join the workforce instead of doing something you wanted to do?” the man asked, gently probing and curious.

“Well, I got four little brothers for one. And my momma don’t make much money as a seamstress. Pops does ok at the steel mill, but not enough to feed and clothe five kids.” Jay admitted unashamedly.

“What would you do if you didn’t have to be at the agency? If you were given a choice in what career you took?” the man asked openly. The questions made Jay draw a long and very loud blank. It was as though someone had just ended the music in the room. It felt like tripping and looking down and seeing nothing but empty air. His plans to leave home ended with him escaping the smothering, oppressive atmosphere at home. He had never had the opportunity to ask himself that, let alone had someone voice the question aloud.

“I guess I hadn’t really thought about it. I ‘spose I wouldn’t hate owning my own garage. I’m good with my hands and cars are ok.” He finally answered. He tossed back the rest of the whiskey and the fire in his breast gave him courage. “I ain’t never had the chance to figure that out.”

“I see. And your family, your brothers and yourself, you’re not very well off?” The man asked as gently as a rich, entitled person could possibly ask of a man clearly wearing his father’s hand-me-down clothes and in need of a haircut. Jay’s hackles raised and he slammed the tumbler down angrily.

“We ain’t poor. We eat every day and every single one of us has clothes. I work hard to make sure that each of my brothers can go to school every day with brushed teeth, washed faces and full bellies. I make sure that my momma never has to work more than she feels she can.” He heard his voice getting louder and took a deep breath. “I’m the reason we’re not poor. We ain’t well off. Obviously, we ain’t. But we ain’t poor.”

“I’m glad to hear that you’re a proud, hardworking individual, Jay.” The man said, taking the outburst with incredible ease. “It reassures me that my proposition won’t fall on deaf ears.” The man straightened his silver tie unnecessarily. Jay noticed that the man had perfectly matched his sapphire tie pin to his blue eyes.

“I’m here, so I’m listenin’.” Jay agreed.

“What would you do to get out of your current situation, Jay? No, I don’t mean getting out of the labor agency. I mean, what would you do for an amount of money that would allow your family to live comfortably for years? For you to perhaps start your own life?” He let the gravitas in the room fall all around them. The man’s eyes, so blue moments before, were darker now. He held perfectly still as Jay stared at him.

“Look, Mister. I don’t know what kind of man you think you got here, but I ain’t no thug, I ain’t a criminal. I’m a decent man.” Jay stood up, fully angry now. He turned to leave.

“You’re free to leave, of course.” The man said quietly, stopping Jay. “But if you leave now you will walk home empty-handed. If you stay…” Jay heard two clicks and a soft, leathery creaking. “You will go home with this just for agreeing to meet me tonight and a promise of a lot more if you agree to the proposal that I have for you.” He turned around and saw a leather briefcase filled with more money than Jay thought existed in the entire world. He felt his heart trip and a weightlessness that extinguished his anger immediately. Suspicion seeped into the lightness, staining his excitement.

“I won’t do anything illegal.” Jay said, drawing his line in the sand. The man nodded and held his hand out to the chair in front the desk again. Jay sat. “And what about them perks you mentioned?”

“I won’t ask you to do anything illegal. Everything I need is above-board and perfectly legitimate.” He calmed the younger man. “Let me set your mind at ease before I discuss the other benefits you may be entitled to if you do accept. You have heard of the disappearances all over the state, yes?” The question was lobbed at Jay from so far out in left field that he didn’t really understand it at first.

“Disappearances?” He repeated. The man nodded.

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“Over thirty children and young adults have gone missing in the last month alone. You haven’t heard of this?” the man clarified.

“Oh yeah, sure.” Jay still wasn’t sure what that had to do with the man. Then an idea came to him and his eyes opened wide. “I ain’t kidnapping no kids.” He said firmly.

“Oh, lord, Jay, no. No, I work for an organization that is actively trying to stop these kidnapping thieves. We know who is doing it and we are desperate to get them to stop.” The man disclosed and he moved the briefcase to the side, careful to keep the top open and facing Jay. “My associates and I have been given information that leads us to believe that you might be in possession of something that might help us stop these bandits.”

“Me? I ain’t got nothin’. You said so yourself.” Jay reminded him.

“Yes, well, be that as it may, you are in contact with something of great importance to us. We have decided that your work ethic and tenacity are exemplary traits for aiding us.” The man said, and Jay shifted nervously in the leather chair. He said nothing, not sure what the man wanted from him. He lifted the tumbler and motioned for a refill.

“I see you’re still on edge. Tell me about your family while we talk more, Jay.” The glass was half-full this time and Jay pulled heavily on the liquor and let the hotness fill his gut.

The nights of drinking with the labor agency guys, drunkenly whistling at girls passing by, pissing on buildings flicked by in his memories. His mother had brought those nights to a devastating halt when he came home with lipstick all over his face and his pants half undone, still drunk. After she had slapped him sober, she woke his father who took the belt, buckle side up, to his flesh until he bled. Jay had just turned twenty and as it had happened less than a year earlier. It was as fresh in his mind as possible.

“Well, like I said, my father works at the steel mill. My momma is a seamstress part time from home. She worked at the tailors for a summer, but it was too hot for her. She’s a fainter, like Indie.” Jay explained over the rim of his drink. “I’m the oldest out of five boys. After me are the twins, Toe and Two.” The man’s eyebrows shot up in curiosity. “Oh, yeah, fuck. We never use their real names. Joe and Ben are eighteen. After the twins is Indiana, he’s seventeen.” Jay took another long drink, nearly emptying the glass. He felt his head swirling pleasantly and he sank a little lower in the comfortable chair.

“And your youngest brother?” the man prompted. The question evinced a frown from Jay.

“Rat’s five. That’s twelve fuckin’ years between him and Indie. There ain’t nothing normal about that, if you ask me.” The empty glass was set down with a gentle tap. The man got up to refill it and Jay held out his hand. He still had to ride the bike all the way back home, in the dark, and he was already buzzed.

“That’s quite the age gap, indeed.” The man agreed. “It must make him a very special member of the family.” Jay scoffed so hard he snorted.

“Yeah, he’s the darlin’ child of Momma. If Pops liked kids at all he would probably like him, but he ain’t never seen one kid he didn’t want to smack.” Jay’s conscious was two steps behind him and he yelled at himself to shut up.

“I’m sure that’s very difficult.” The man said quietly. It wasn’t a question, but a statement and Jay felt a thankful tightness in his chest.

“It can be.” He admitted. “But we all deal with it.”

“That brings me back to my question from earlier. Would you want to escape that situation, Jay?”

“I ain’t even know your name or what you want from me.” Jay said pointedly as the whiskey hit him, emboldened him. The man didn’t answer right away but sat very still looking very intensely at Jay.

“You may call me Mr. Avery.” He finally said but did not continue. His gaze felt heavy as Jay sat there.

“What do you want from me, Mr. Avery?” whispered Jay as discomfort stole across him.

“I hear you have a brother that is special.” The man stated. Jay sat up and glared at him. The movement made the man’s face wobble.

“The fuck you hear that from?” he demanded.

“Several sources of unimportance. What makes him special, Jay?” the man asked intently. Jay’s mind was working as fast as the liquor would let him. He pleaded with himself to keep his mouth shut.

Jay remembered Rat telling Jay about being able to see the things that people were thinking about sometimes. He showed him one day on the way to school by guessing, correctly, all the things that Jay was thinking. Then Jay remembered seeing his baby brother grinning in self-satisfied glee in the moonlight of their room as he made a coin disappear in his tiny hands. Then, finally, the thin, fresh scar on Indie’s forehead.

“He’s just different.” He said stubbornly.

“How old was he when he could guess the words you were thinking, Jay?” Mr. Avery asked gently. “And that coin, did he ever retrieve it for you?” Jay’s heart thudded hard and uncomfortable in his chest. His birthday flashed across his thoughts.

“August, just like your youngest brother. September for the twins. October for Indie.” Mr. Avery recited as the dates flipped in Jay’s mind like pages. He jumped to his feet and backed up in terror.

“Sit down, Jay, I insist.” Jay felt himself being pushed from behind and he stumbled forward back into the chair. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Something in his voice flipped a switch in Jay and he relaxed. His eyes rested on the still open briefcase. The promise of even more money floated across his thoughts.

“What do you want?” he finally asked.

“Well, as I stated before, I am part of a singular faction. One important role of the party I belong to is the training and refining of those young people that have shown exceptional abilities. We are also actively looking to impede the criminal activity of which we previously spoke. I have reason to believe that your brother may be in danger due to his special gifts.” Mr. Avery explained slowly and patiently. He paused to see if Jay was following.

“Last night someone tried to take him.” Jay confided. The man’s crease-less brow furrowed in concern.

“What did this individual look like?”

“Rat just said a white-faced guy with stringy hair, an eerie thin face and ice-cold hands.” Jay recited, trying hard to remember all the details that Rat had given the brothers the night before as they waited for the dawn to creep into their room.

“Yes, that’s accurate.” Mr. Avery confirmed. “Did they—” he hesitated. “Injure him? Did he have scratches or bite marks?” Jay frowned in surprised confusion.

“Bites? Nah. Rat said he just knew that his hands were gonna be cold if they touched him.” Mr. Avery nodded and steepled his fingers in front of his face in thought. He appeared to be waiting.

“What about them perks for me?” Jay said. He thought he might have slurred a little and he bit into the inside of his cheek.

“The people I work for would like to offer your family a considerable amount of money to allow us to take your brother into a safe place, to train him, and to help him hone his incredible gifts.” The man’s words were blunt now, businesslike and well rehearsed. “Your personal benefits would surpass those offered to your parents, however.”

“How’s that?” Jay asked.

“Well, to start with, you’d be offered a permanent… relationship with my faction.” Mr. Avery’s eyes rolled a little, searching for the words he wanted to say next. Jay got the distinct impression it was a rehearsed and practiced gesture.

“What’s that mean?”

“Well, you’d be initiated into our company, given a job to do, paid regularly for it. One day, we may even be in the position to offer you help with obtaining a new residence.” Mr. Avery’s voice rang in Jay’s head like the click of a walking cane echoing off the walls of an empty parking garage.

“You'd start out as a personal assistant to myself. The work is both uncomplicated and self-monitored. I would call you with tasks that I needed carried out and you’d be paid. After that, should you prove yourself as useful as I am sure you are, you’d be given a much more prestigious and better paid position. One that would most likely require you to travel for a weekend, all of which would be paid for.”

Jay watched Mr. Avery swallow and take a deep breath.

“After that, you’d be given the chance at finding residence provided by my faction and you’d become a permanent member. But your brother must first be tested by one of our Scouts and that requires both of your parents to be present, and to agree to the testing. If they don’t agree, I cannot guarantee his safety.”

Jay merely met his gaze and gave nothing away in his face.

“The money here you will take home tonight for yourself as a finder’s fee. Upon the testing, your parents will receive another payment of the same amount. If he tests well, we will discuss the proper course of compensation.”

“Wait a minute.” Jay shook his head and blinked, trying to wrest away the liquid waves in his mind. “This money here is mine? I ain’t gotta give it to my parents?” Jay asked in shock.

“I am not one to tell you what to do with your money, Jay, but I have paid this money to you for your part in this matter. It does not belong to your parents unless you give it to them.” The words fell on Jay’s ears like a tumbler in a lock. He saw himself packing his few belongings and buying a tiny car and just driving away. He saw himself working for this man before him, taking home this kind of money so often he’d be free in no time. He saw his father’s enraged face and his mother’s tears. They dissipated before they could materialize fully, and Jay nodded.

“Yes. Test him.” He said.

Jay left a few minutes later, with his finder’s fee in a soft cloth bag that he tied to the bike’s handlebars. He got on the bike, wobbly but sure that he could make it home just fine and glanced into the frosted window. Mr. Avery had picked up a phone and was talking to someone. He looked first smug and then annoyed. Finally, he laughed and hung up. Jay shook his head to clear it and rounded the bike toward home.