Billionaire Mountain Man

“Ev, we've got a situation. Two kids just got busted snorting Rocket in the boys' bathrooms.”

“Where are they now?”

“I've got 'em here in my office.”

“I'll be right there.”

I got up from my desk and hurried through to Ben's office. I was surprised to see two preppy-looking guys standing in front of Ben's desk, their heads hanging in shame.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” I said as I walked in.

I walked slowly around each boy, giving them cold, merciless stares. I took one by his chin, forcing him to look up at me, and saw that his pupils were dilated. He was definitely high.

“What are your names?” I demanded.

“I'm Charlie MacDonald,” mumbled the one whose face I was gripping.

“And I'm Dylan Korb,” muttered the other. Both of their voices were shaky and tinged with nerves and fear.

“And you two idiots were sniffing that Rocket garbage in the bathrooms, huh?”

Neither replied; they both just stared at the ground.

“Tell me, boys, what were you thinking? Oh wait, I know, you weren't thinking. I know, you thought you'd be cool, huh? You thought you'd be little rebels, sneaking out of class to go get high. Yeah, as if that's never been done before. But this isn't just sneaking around the back of the bike shed to smoke an illicit cigarette. Do you understand that? Do you know what this junk is that you're putting in your bodies? Do you know how dangerous this stuff is? Do you?”

Both of them continued simply staring at the ground, unable to respond.

“Do you know how insanely bad this stuff is for you? Look, I was seventeen once. I know what it feels like to feel like you're totally immortal, like nothing can touch you. I know! But dammit, boys, you're not immortal. Do you know about the kid who died from this crap? That's right! This stuff is pure evil! It's gonna destroy your insides! It's like a cancer, but even more aggressive and merciless.”

I paused here to catch my breath and give them a few moments to digest what I said.

“This is what I'm gonna do,” I said to them. “I'm gonna call your parents in, and we're gonna sit down and talk about this with them when you two have sobered up. If necessary, I'm gonna recommend pulling you out of school and sending you to rehab. Getting you off this trash is more important than missing out on a few weeks of school. But what I want to know now is, who did you buy it from. Who?! Give me a name.”

Neither of them seemed willing to speak.

“Was it that kid, Panetti?”

Charlie shook his head.

“It wasn't Panetti. He's dry; he doesn't have no Rocket right now.”

“Oh, is he?” I asked, feigning ignorance about Panetti's situation. “Well, then who was it? Tell me!”

“We don't know who the guy is,” Dylan blurted out suddenly. “All we know is that he drives a black Lexus with black tinted windows. He drives past the park across the road at 12 o' clock sharp every day and sells to whoever is waiting there. He's only there for 30 seconds though – real fast. We can't see who he is either coz he wears a mask. We just know him as Mr. Mask.”

I nodded.

“Mr. Mask, huh? And you say he's there every day?”

“Every weekday. No weekends.”

“That's good. Thank you for that information, Dylan. I might go easy on you when your parents are here. Might. Now get outta my sight. You two wait on the bench outside while I wait for my secretary to get hold of your parents.”

The boys shuffled out of the office, looking downcast.

“Have you heard anything before about this 'Mr. Mask' character?” I asked Ben.

He shook his head.