Summer of Night by Dan Simmons Page B

The woman's fat face was browned and wrinkled into folds which made Dale think of Mike's catcher's mitt. Her eyes had the same gray, washed-out, hopeless look that he recognized from his classmate Cordie.
    "Terence?" whispered Jim Harlen and made a face.
    "Yes, ma'am," said Barney, still standing between the fat woman and the principal and teacher. "Dr. Roon understands that. But they're sure he left the school. We need to find out where he went after school."
    "Bullshit!" cried Mrs. Cooke. "My Cordelia says that she didn't see him crossin' the schoolyard… and my Terence wouldna left school without permission nohow. He's a good boy. And I woulda tanned his behind to the bone if he hadda."
    Kevin turned toward Dale and raised an eyebrow. Dale didn't look away from the group of intense adults.
    "Now, Mrs. Cooke," began the short, bald, mean little justice of the peace,"we all know that Tubby… uh… Terence had his mis-chevious ways about him and…"
    Mrs. Cooke rounded on the little man. "Shut your face, J.P. Congden. Everybody knows your boy C.J. is the meanest little asshole who ever carried a switchblade. Don't you be tellin' me about my Terence's ways." She looked back at the skinny constable everyone in town called Barney and thrust a blunt finger toward Dr. Roon and Old Double-Butt. "Constable, these people is hidin' something."
    Barney made a gesture with both hands, palms out. "Now, now, Mrs. Cooke. You know they looked everywhere. Mrs. Doubbet saw Terence leaving school that afternoon before the children were dismissed…"
    "An' I say bullshit to that!" shouted Cordie's mother. Cordie herself looked over her shoulder, saw the group of kids, and gave them a blank stare.
    Mrs. Doubbet seemed to come out of her daze. "No one speaks to me like that. I have been an educator in this district for almost four decades and I…"
    "I don't give a pig's ass how long you been teachin'…" began Mrs. Cooke.
    "Ma, she's lyin'!" cried Cordie, tugging on her mother's shapeless dress. "I was lookin' out the window and I didn't see Tubby nowhere. Old Double-Butt wasn't even lookin'."
    "Just a minute, young lady," began Dr. Roon. His long fingers played with the watch chain across his vest. "We understand you are upset by your brother's… ah… temporary absence, but we cannot allow such…"
    "You tell me where my boy is!" cried Mrs. Cooke, pressing forward against the justice of the peace as if trying to get her small, fat hands on the principal.
    "Hey! Hey!" cried J. P. Congden, taking a step back.
    Barney stepped between the two again, spoke quickly and earnestly to Cordie's mother in tones the kids could not hear, and then said something softly to Dr. Roon.
    "I agree that we should continue the discussion out of the…ah… public glare," came Dr. Roon's sepulchral tones.
    Barney nodded, said something else, and the group went into Old Central. Cordie looked back over her shoulder once at Dale and the others but there was no hostility in her face now… only sadness and something which might have been fear.
    "It would be better if… ah… Mr. Cooke could join us," Dr. Roon was saying as they went inside.
    "He's been feelin' poorly all this week," Cordie's mother said in a tired monotone.
    "He's been drunk as a junkyard skunk all this week," said Jim Harlen in a passable imitation of Mrs. Cooke's Okie twang. Harlen squinted at the sun and the now-empty parking lot. "Shit, it's getting late and I promised Mom I'd get the yard mowed. I think the fun's over here."
    Lawrence pushed his glasses higher on his nose. "Where do you think Tubby went?"
    Harlen leaned over the third grader, twisted his face into a terrible grimace, and raised fingers like claws. "Something got him, punko. And tonight it's gonna get you!" He leaned closer, saliva dribbling onto his chin.
    "Knock it off," said Dale, stepping between Harlen and his brother.
    "Knock it off," Harlen parroted in falsetto. "Don't distoib my wittew brudder!" He minced and pirouetted,