Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 218(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
“Is that…” Chains squinted and studied the girl.
“Yep.” Knuckles put his arm around his wife’s shoulders as he gave a long-suffering sigh. “It’s the mayor’s daughter.”
“Christ, we’re all gonna get arrested.” Chains scrubbed a hand over his face. “Do we have enough bail money?”
A sleek black Mercedes pulled up to the curb near the park entrance. The crowd parted as a woman in a designer pantsuit strode purposefully toward the dunk tank, her heels clicking against the pavement, her platinum blonde hair pulled back in a severe bun. I recognized her as the CEO of the largest real estate development company in the region.
“Fresh meat,” Chains murmured, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “This should be good.”
Caleb spotted her immediately, straightening on his perch with renewed interest. He said something to the girl. She turned and gave him a tight hug. Caleb hugged her back before helping her down from the perch where they’d been sitting. No one had managed to dunk them, but I’d noticed Caleb at the ready. Likely to hold her up as high as he could if someone managed to dunk him. I also noticed that there were only a couple people he seemed concerned with. The rest… I swear, the kid could read the shit out of people and knew how to get under their skin so deep they couldn’t keep cool enough to get their revenge by dunking the little punk.
Once the girl was safely on the ground, Caleb started the real show. “Well, look who’s here!” he called out. “The woman who builds luxury condos where affordable housing used to be! How many families did you displace this week? Do you make them clean your stilettos before you kick them out?”
A collective “OH!” swept through the crowd as they laughed and cheered. Not a really nice barb, but Caleb was a special kind of kid. The CEO in question had been accused of exactly what he’d suggested. She’d been trying to repair her image, but so far the inner-city locals were having none of it. She halted, narrowing her eyes at Caleb before approaching the volunteer handling the money. I couldn’t hear what she said, but moments later, the volunteer was holding a check, his eyes wide.
“Five thousand dollars!” he announced to the crowd.
“Looks like someone’s trying to buy a clean conscience!” Caleb shouted. “Too bad it doesn’t match your shoes. Those are last season, right? I saw them in the clearance bin at the outlet mall!”
The CEO took her three balls with a tight smile. Her first throw came surprisingly close to the target, causing Caleb to straighten in alarm. “Oh! She’s got an arm on her!” he called out. “Probably from all that practice throwing employees under the bus!” Her second throw missed wide, and Caleb’s laughter rang out. “Choked under pressure! Just like your company’s stock last quarter!” The CEO’s third throw hit the very edge of the target but didn’t trigger the mechanism. Frustrated, she handed over another check. “Make it ten thousand,” she said loudly enough for everyone to hear. “If I hit it with any of these next three balls.”
“And if you don’t?” Caleb called down.
“Then it’s fifteen thousand for me to push the lever myself,” she replied, staring him down.
Caleb’s grin widened. “Deal!”
Fifteen minutes and fifteen thousand dollars later, the CEO pushed the lever herself, sending Caleb splashing into the water again. The crowd went wild, and I found myself applauding along with everyone else.
“We’re going to need a bigger donation box,” I said to Chains. “I think we just funded toys for every kid in the area.”
“And then some,” he agreed, his voice warm with pride. “This was a brilliant idea, Ellie.”
The pattern continued for the next two hours. Word had spread among the city’s elite that something unusual was happening at the Halloween toy drive in the park. One by one, they arrived. The bank president, a state senator, the owner of the local sports team, even a few minor celebrities who happened to be in town. Each came prepared to part with serious cash, and Caleb rose to every occasion, his insults growing more creative and cutting as the afternoon wore on. Each time, he sincerely thanked each person who donated. No matter what insults they hurled at each other. And there were several who tried to best Caleb. Spoiler alert! They couldn’t.
By mid-afternoon, Caleb was practically pruned, having been dunked at least fifteen times, but his energy never flagged. If anything, he seemed to grow more lively with each dunk, like some kind of water-activated insult generator.
“That kid’s got a gift,” I said to Chains as we helped count the growing pile of donations. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
I noticed Tonio Miles had returned to the park. This time, he approached the dunk tank differently. Not as a participant, but with purpose. He spoke briefly to the volunteer, who called Caleb down from his perch.