Chute Roll

Chapter Five

"Stay," he said again.

I'm not small. Up close, though, this guy made me feel like I was a six-year-old kid.

"Okay," I said. "I'll stay."

He set me down. He stared at me. Small beads of sweat popped out on the skin of his face.

"There's a fly on your nose," I said.

He didn't smile. I decided this was not a person who liked little jokes. I decided it would be better just to shut my mouth and wait.

Finally, the driver came over. He snapped the cell phone shut and handed it to the second guy.

The driver looked at me. "Mr. Scanelli is very pleased you saved his daughter's life. He wishes to reward you."

"It's all right," I said. "I don't need a reward."

"Don't say 'no' to Mr. Scanelli. It's not a good idea."

The driver reached inside his suit jacket. He pulled out a long, flat wallet. He opened the wallet and took out some bills.

"Take this," he said, handing me the money.

"I told you already. I don't need a reward."

The second guy grabbed my wrist and raised my arm toward the money. He squeezed hard. It hurt. I got the hint. I took the money.

"Count it," the driver said.

They were hundred dollar bills. I counted twenty of them. That was two thousand dollars.

"Mr. Scanelli also wants you to do something for him."

"What is it?" I asked.

"He wants you to keep this to yourself."

"I can't," I said. "I have to file a report. I work at the flight school. They have to know about the accident. They have to look into it and see what went wrong."

The driver stepped right up to me. He looked down his bent nose at me.

"Don't you hear good?" he asked. His breath smelled like garlic.

"Yes," I said. "But —"

"Mr. Scanelli always gets what he wants," the driver said. The big, ugly man patted my face. "Let me put it this way. If you file a report, I break both your knees."

He grabbed my chin and forced me to look straight into his flat, black eyes.

"Look at me, kid. See how serious I am? Do you think I'm joking."

"Um, no."

"Say it again, kid. Tell me you know I'll break your legs if anyone hears about what happened up there in the sky."

I believed him. Looking in his face, I believed he was the kind of guy who would break a person's legs. Or do worse stuff. I told him I believed him.

"Good," he said. He let go of me.

The two of them walked back to the car. They drove away.

It left me with two thousand dollars in my hand. And with legs so weak from fear I could hardly stand.

If this was the kind of thing that happened when a person helped Mr. Scanelli, I didn't want to find out what happened if a person made him mad.