Whispers After Dark

Chapter 13

Every footstep I took was louder than the sleeping children. The creaking floorboards were exposing my secret improvised plan. Every sound I made echoed through the room, making them to be heard louder. I was afraid to be caught but it was too late to back out now.

I could hear the murmur of chatter coming from the front of the house. The light from the lantern illuminated the front door, and the silhouette of a woman spread all across the hallway. I tiptoed following the shadow and crept up behind the door. A motorcar engine revved from behind the door frame, and Mr. Chamberlain's footsteps were slow to walk towards the vehicle. The vehicle had just entered from the east side of the orphanage. The car door opened up and a man jumped out. The voices were clear from my position, but I leaned in closer to not miss any words.

"You're late." Mr. Chamberlain growled. It sounded the same when he talked to me inside his office. I knew he wasn't talking to me, but part of me was scared. Unfortunately, not enough to turn back.

"A few minutes can be spared, Gordon." The short man was smiling proudly. He had a thick bushy beard that he stroked every couple of seconds with his right hand. It got stuck in his curly beard until he yanked it hard out. His left hand rested on his belt buckle. He was dressed in worn-out denim and a leather vest with fringes that swayed with each step he took. A wide-brimmed hat shaded his face, casting a shadow over his eyes. His boots, scuffed from miles of walking, made loud cracking sounds as he strode on the uneven gravel.

"I want everything done orderly. Tardiness is not acceptable." Mr. Chamberlain's voice was commanding. He wasn't just demanding to the children, but also the people he worked with. I guess the only person he was comfortable with was Mrs. Chamberlain. She stood patiently on the porch with buckets standing beside her. I assumed they had the fish stuffed with the drug inside the buckets. They must've been too hard for her to carry it herself, as she just watched over it.

"Of course, your honor," the man snickered. He walked towards Mrs. Chamberlain to take the buckets into his motorcar.

Mr. Chamberlain was not pleased with the man's mockery, but he had to put up with it to get the job done. He was standing formally, his tall and lean frame not slouched a bit. He stood straight, waiting patiently for the man to take several trips to fetch the buckets and put them in his automobile.

I had never seen one before. No matter how much I squinted, the darkness coated the vehicle and all I could see was a shadow cast on the lit-up gravel. Its engine roared through the night, but the adults didn't seem to notice the thundering rattling from inside the machine.

Finishing up his job, he sighed and smiled. His expression was relaxed as he rested his arm on the back of his motorcar.

"Ya know, to this day, I still don't know how the two of yer get it done so fast. It's impressive, to say the least." His voice held a sharp country accent if it wasn't clear enough with his outfit. The man's country tone was loud and clear, not a word was slurred. He didn't seem tired at all.

"You worry about your end of the deal. We'll worry about ours." I was shocked to hear Mrs. Chamberlain speak. She was obviously tired, much quieter than usual. The whizzing noise from the engine made it hard to hear her, and I leaned in to get a closer view of what was going on.

"Y'all filled 'em with cocaine I presume? None to bait the police?"

Bingo. So it was cocaine that they filled in the fish. Despite my inattentiveness during Roy's lessons, science was a particularly interesting topic. Much of his lesson was boring, but I remembered something about euphoric-stimulating drug making you feel better for a while. It had a strong addictive potential. These fish were being sent to addicts. I didn't have time to think about how they were evading the police.

Were the children being accounted as accomplices? The orphans were aiding in a drug-trafficking scheme. Emily was helping out. I was helping out. What would the police do? Questions rushed through my head but now wasn't the time to figure it out.

"No. We have a guy on the inside." Mr. Chamberlain's head cocked sideways, motioning for the man to be on his way. He took the hint and got back in his motorcar.

"Always a pleasure doing business with you, Gordon."

I couldn't see what Mr. Chamberlain was doing besides the man, but a clasping sound made me assume they had shaken hands.

They were going to be coming back inside any time now. I took long strides to get back to the sleeping room. If I lifted my feet, the creaking sound would surely make the two outside suspicious that someone had been listening. It wouldn't be long before they would conclude that it was me. I wasn't going to take any chances.

Mrs. Chamberlain's footsteps entered the house and I sped up my escape. Reaching the entrance of the door, I sprinted to my bed spot. The snoring children covered up the creaking floorboards.

I didn't like it at all. To be sneaking around, and find out the dark secrets behind this orphanage. I wished I had never found it. Everything would've been better. I would've started to get along with the children, I would still see Mrs. Chamberlain as the divine woman she is, I would turn sixteen and go to that heavenly orphanage heavily praised by the younger children here. Sometimes not knowing is the best thing to know. As my eyes shut for the remainder of the night, I would be lying if I said I didn't regret finding out about the drug operation here.