Weirdo - Jughead Jones

12: Past

Six Months Earlier

My phone said it was three a.m. I turned in my bed, kicking around the comforter until I was in a better position. I didn't know why I couldn't sleep that night. I guess that something just felt off.

Suddenly there was loud knocking on our apartment door. What the hell? Visitors at three in the morning? I heard a rustling around down the hall and then footsteps hurrying to the front door, muffled by socks. The door opened.

"Jay." I heard a man with a raspy voice. "Miss me?"

I heard my dad next. "Mustang what the hell are you—!" He lowered his voice. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Just wanted to say hi to an old friend," the man (his name was Mustang?) said.  "And... remind him... of a little deal he made."

"Now? It's been seven years!" My father whispered. "I'm out. I'm not one of you anymore."

"Snakes don't shed their skins, James. You know that. As for you being gone... took a hell of a lot of time tracking you down."

What the hell was that supposed to mean, "snakes don't shed their skins?" My dad wasn't "one of" who anymore? What happened seven years ago? Does this have to do with why we left?

"Oh, I meant to ask," Mustang continued. "How's Jo? And your girl— what's her name? — oh, Maddie. How is she?"

"You son of a bitch." My dad's voice was low and shaky. "You keep my family out of this. Understand?"

"If you do your part, then maybe I'll understand. But until then, you better watch your step, Parker. And theirs."

"You're threatening me? Are you thinking of hurting your own kind?" I could hear my father's fury through these thin walls. "Get the hell out of my house. And tell that bastard Cliff to go to hell."

"I'm sure he'll see you there, Parker."

With that I heard the man leave, the door shutting behind him.

"Oh, god," I heard my father almost sob. "Oh god no. Please, no."

Present

"Mom?" Baby greeted me at the door, tail wagging. I stroked his soft fur a few times to catch my breath before walking into the kitchen.

My mom was leaning on her hands, which were pressed against the kitchen counter. Seated on one of the stools behind the counter was Sheriff Keller.

"Maddie," my mom started. She turned to me, trying to sound like her normal self. "This is Sheriff Keller."

I nodded. "Hi."

"Evening, Madison," he said politely, and nodded.

"Maddie. I called you home because... we have some... news," my mom said. "About your father."

I watched as I saw her shake, fighting to keep her composure. "What news?"

"That he's...." She trailed off. "He's...." and then she suddenly burst into tears.

The sheriff looked sorry and uncomfortable. He said slowly, "Madison, as far as the Riverdale police department knows, your father has gone missing." He let me process what he'd just said.

Missing? How? When? "How...." I cleared my throat, nervous about questioning a sheriff. "How would you know? My dad lives in L.A."

"Your dad used to live in L.A.," Keller nodded. "Until about five months ago. He then moved into the Sunnyside Trailer Park on the south side."

I looked to my mom. "Did you know this?" I asked, starting to feel a little betrayal with the confusion.

She looked at me guiltily, but still defensive. "What does it matter if I knew? Your father is missing, Madison."

"When was the last time anyone heard from him?" I asked Keller.

"Well the last time he paid rent was over two months ago." He answered. "When I knocked on his door, no one was there. His car was out front, so was his motorcycle. Then I asked around, and he's got some friends who are worried about him. Say they haven't seen him."

The worry and panic began to set in. It was like the care for my dad was something I hadn't felt in a while; something I had to dust off. I hadn't thought about him a lot. But at least I knew he was out there somewhere. It was always at the back of my mind. And now he's missing, and that comforting thought lost with him. He's never been missing. He never leaves without saying anything, without finishing something.

"Now, Madison, I have to ask you," the sheriff continued. "Is there anything you know about your father that could be a connection to his disappearance? Anything you've heard or seen? Anything he's told you?"

You better watch your step, Parker. And theirs.

That weird guy who came to our apartment at three in he morning, reminding my dad about some kind of deal. What was his name? Could he have anything to do with this? He threatened my dad.... But what if I'm not supposed to tell the cops about it? Would it keep my dad safe if I said nothing?

These thoughts scared me. I had never thought like that before. Maybe I'll look into it. And when I know more, it'll be safer than I think it is.

"No," I told him. "Nothing."

* * * *

I watched my mom walk the sheriff out. They whispered. She nodded. He put his hat on and walked away.

My mom shut the door and walked back into the kitchen, her steps slow.

"Mom," I spoke. I turned to her, asking her again, "Did you know about Dad living on the south side?"

She looked at me for a second and then nodded in defeat. "Yes. Yes, I knew."

"So for five months. I could've gone to him, I could've seen him and you just—"

"No, Maddie," she interrupted. "You couldn't have gone to see him, he said it was dangerous—"

"So you've talked with him, too?" I pressed. I couldn't believe that she kept this from me.

"I— Well...." She stuttered.

I nodded, looking away. "Okay. I have to go." I went for the front door, wanting to leave as soon as possible.