– Trouble –

by Cole Parker

colepark@gmail.com

It was a small, windowless room, the only things in it being two folding chairs and a wooden table. The chairs were set across the table from each other.

I was marched into the room by the man holding my arm. He released me, turned on the light which was a single naked bulb suspended above the table, and closed the door.

He was a large man wearing black clothing, all black other than his gray shirt. Black trousers, suit coat and tie. I guessed he was in his thirties or forties. Dark hair, cut short and combed.

“Sit down,” he commanded. Then he pointed to a tablet of lined paper on the table and the ballpoint pen next to it. “I need your statement. Write out just what happened tonight. As much detail as you can. Especially involving Sarah Sue Balsome. Who she was with. Was she flirting, and who with? Who was hitting on her? Who was looking at her with something in their eye? Give me a full statement with specifics. Do that and you may not be held for long. Not longer than overnight, perhaps. The courts don’t convene till morning. I’m not waking a judge now. Not for you.”

I gave him a look. “Who are you?” I asked.

“The statement,” he said. “I’ll be back for it in fifteen minutes. You’d better have a lot down by then. Get busy.”

He turned and left. I heard him lock the door. I did as he asked.

Statement of the activities of September 2, 2025,
by Lonnie Sanderson, age 12.

Yesterday, my friend Ronnie Baling told me about a back-to-school party in the park the next night for our small middle school. It was for kids just beginning the 7th and 8th grades. He said the local supermarket was donating hot dogs, buns and soft drinks. There’d be a bonfire and we’d roast the dogs. It was scheduled for eight o’clock, so just after dark, which was why incoming 6th graders weren’t invited. I got permission from my parents and met up with Ronnie and we went.

We were each told to bring a sharpened stick to cook our wienies on, and we both had one. On the way there, I saw a bunch of kids walking to the park just like we were. I’d guess there were probably 60-some kids in all, maybe a few more, boys and girls both, maybe half of them starting the 8th grade, the others going into 7th like me and Ronnie.

There weren’t many adults around so it was noisy and chaotic. Some kids, the confident ones, often will take over as leaders when no adult has that job. Wesley Mangold, entering the 8th grade, is like that; he’s 13 years old. I guess I sorta fall into that role for the 7th graders. There was nothing official about it. Just that kids tend to look to someone for direction and we’re there, you know? Neither of us is the shy, retiring type.

I only mention this because of Wesley. After the dogs had been cooked and eaten, there was a lull, and then a rumor began to float around. I don’t know if Wesley started it or if it just got mentioned somehow and then kinda grew by itself, but soon Wes was all over it. The rumor was, there was going to be a skinny-dip for those who had the guts to do it.

This was a big deal. Kids our age tend to be shy about our bodies. But we’re also kinda adventurous. We’re like lemmings; we play follow the leader without much thinking going into it. We don’t want to be left behind and become outcasts. Being an outcast really hurts when you’re 12 and 13. Everyone wants to be part of the group.

That’s sorta why what happened happened.

So there was excitement and enthusiasm and high spirits, but nothing much was done about the rumor. Being the first was hard, getting it started all by yourself. What if no one joined you? But then, Wes took over.

He got out in front of the crowd, between the crowd and the pond where we swam in the summer, and he cried out, “Who’s coming?” and started to strip.

Every eye in the park was fixed on him. And he did it. Everything off, his boxers last, still facing us. Didn’t cover himself with his hands, either. It was dark, of course, and most guys who’re 13 don’t have that much to cover up anyway, and Wes was probably just like most of them, just not shy at all.

I was in the crowd with kids all around me and I couldn’t see anything from where I stood, even though I did look. We all did.

Wes turned around and started running toward the pond. Then other boys, all 13 I’d guess, began stripping, and wow, the older girls did, too. Whoever thinks girls that age don’t share boys’ sense of adventure and feel the same sexual excitement don’t know girls at all. A lot of them are bolder than the boys!

We 7th graders weren’t going to be left behind. Just thinking of the names we’d be called motivated us if nothing else. But there was a something else, too: the excitement of being naked outside with lots of other kids was enough motivation for all of us.

We stripped, and we ran helter-skelter to the pond.

We were splashing around, bumping into each other and having a wonderful time. The water was about waist deep so the boys’ essentials were covered. Not so the girls’ chests. We could see them. It was a good thing the water was as deep as it was or a lot of us boys would have been highly excited when staring at those chests, and it would have been embarrassingly apparent.

Then we all heard a voice call, “The cops!”

There was a mad scramble to get out of the pond and find our clothes. As I was looking for mine, pretty sure where I’d left them, I saw two cops in uniform and five or six men in dark suits and ties walking toward the pond. Just that suddenly, all we naked kids were in the midst of clothed adult men.

The two cops didn’t seem to be doing much, just standing there, looking. But the black-clothed men were grabbing onto some of the boys. One grabbed me. “You’re under arrest,” he said. “You’re coming with me.”

He had me by the arm and I was scared. I saw my clothes on the ground close by, and I jerked my arm away from the man and grabbed my clothes. He caught me again and took me to his car. He pushed me into the back seat, got in the front and automatically locked the back doors and windows.

I got dressed in the back seat as he drove me to some unknown location. We entered a property through a front gate, and I saw a large house. He passed it and then stopped by a small outbuilding. He took me inside, told me he needed a statement from me, and left.

This is my statement. Lonnie Anderson, age 12.

I didn’t have a watch so wasn’t sure how long I was in that room. Probably less than a half hour, but more than the 15 minutes he’d said I’d be locked up alone.

“You have the statement done?” he asked after reentering the room and closing the door again, still standing in front of it.

I picked up the piece of paper I’d written on. From a distance, I showed him the writing on it but didn’t give it to him. Instead, I folded it, laid it on the table, and put one hand over it. Then I spoke the first words I’d uttered since asking who he was.

“You don’t know me at all,” I said. “You think you’re the top dog here, able to intimidate a young boy, bully him a little and get what you want, look like a hero to your boss, and come out of this smelling like roses. Probably get a raise. Because look at the statement you’ve got! None of your black-suited buddies will have done as well. All they’ve got is a bunch of confused, scared kids whose stories won’t be worth a damn.

“For you, this has been just another competition, huh? For you, I suspect everything’s a competition, and you like to win.

“Unfortunately, this time, you caught the wrong boy. You’re in a world of hurt. Do you even know that? If you did, you’d have started running already.”

I was meeting his eyes. I’d yet to see them show anything but imperious scorn for me and smug certainty for himself. They still showed that. He might not even have heard me, as sure of himself as he was. What’s the saying: the smugger they are, the farther they fall? Yeah, I know, but that fits better in this case.

Might as well up the stakes for him, I thought, not that he’d have any idea that was happening. I held up the paper I’d been scribbling on. “I’ve written out just what happened tonight. But it’s my paper, I wrote it and own it, and you can’t have it.”

As expected, he stepped over and snatched it from me.

I was smiling when he looked up from the paper. “What’s so funny?” he asked. He made no attempt to hide the sneer in his voice.

“Just another nail in your coffin. You just took something of mine. That’s theft. Just another nail. Of course, it’s minor-league stuff compared to kidnapping.”

“I didn’t kidnap you! I took you in for questioning.”

“Of course you did. What’s this place’s precinct number, 9-3/4, like in the Potter books? Moving someone against his will to a place other than where he was when taken is, by law, kidnapping. Of course policemen can do that if done in certain prescribed ways, but you didn’t do it legally, and you’re not a policeman. What you are is a kidnapper. Now you’ve added theft to your ledger.”

“Of course I’m a policeman. And I took you here so you wouldn’t get booked and have a criminal record. I’m letting you go now, so all I did was get a statement from you. No kidnapping.”

“I still haven’t seen a badge or a name tag or a uniform. Undercover policemen still have to show ID and a badge when taking custody of someone like you’re saying you did with me. Policemen question a subject, then ask for a signed statement of what they just said. You didn’t do that. No, you’re no policeman, and whether you let me go or not doesn’t mitigate your crimes.”

For the first time, I saw some hesitation in him.

I continued. “You’re going down, and for a very long time. Killing me wouldn’t help any. It’d just assure you’ll never get out from the uncomfortable cell you’ll be locked in—locked away forever. Running might be your best option. If you’re clever, you might last awhile. You aren’t very bright, though, are you? Dragging me away like you did—what were you thinking? No, thinking didn’t have anything to do with it.

“My thought is, you were just trying to impress your employer, and I can guess who that is. The richest man in town is the only one I’ve heard of who has security around the clock on his property. He’s one of the few with a walled estate, like the one you’ve brought me to. Yeah, I was watching out the window. That guy’s name is Balsome. Gee, where did I hear that name tonight? Ah, yeah! You mentioned it! And there’s a girl in school with that name.

“What, she was skinny-dipping tonight, and he heard about it from the guy assigned to watch over her? Balsome was worried about her and wanted to know all about what was going on, whether she was safe? He could just picture her naked with a bunch of similarly naked boys! Wow, what a picture!”

I paused to picture that myself. I’d been there! All of us naked! Too bad it had been so dark. “He wanted to know who the boys were she was involved with, that she was okay. Sent you guys there to see what was what, see if the guy who watches her needed any help, and you, you overreacted a bit, didn’t you? Balsome never told you to kidnap anyone. On your own, you grabbed me. Not to just ask me a question, like where his daughter was, but to take me away and write out a statement. How’s Balsome going to like that? I’d bet a fortune he didn’t tell you to kidnap anyone.

“No, I’ll bet when he was told about his daughter being naked out there in the park, he wasn’t given any details, just that she was with a group of naked kids, and he thought the worst. He told you guys to go save her if she needed it, and to find out who the boys were at the park. So that’s what you were assigned to do. He didn’t tell you to kidnap anyone, did he?

“So the big question the police will have is: is Mr. Balsome an accessory to these crimes you’ve committed? If so, hey, that’s an idea; maybe he can share your cell with you!”

He looked perturbed for a moment, then shook his head. “You’re nuts. I’m in control here. Your future is in my hands. What happens to you is entirely up to me. I’m not the one in trouble here.”

“Sure you are. Quite a bit of trouble, actually. Let’s see. First off, you impersonated a cop. You told me I was under arrest. That meant you were pretending to be a cop. If you were making a citizen’s arrest, you’d have to so inform the arrestee. You didn’t. So that’s two offenses, impersonating a cop and illegally arresting someone. A third is assaulting me. Grabbing me by the arm is assaulting. None of these are biggies, but each is something that can get you jail time. Then you stole my statement. Theft. All these together will get you jail time. But the biggie, kidnapping? You‘re up Shit’s Creek without a paddle on that one.

“You may not be up on current law. I’ll fill you in. If you take someone unwillingly from where you grabbed him to some different place, that’s kidnapping. That’s what you did. Now you claim you had the right, the authority to do that. Well, should that be true, then there were other things you didn’t do that you’d have had to do to make it legal. Things like having my parents here when I’m questioned. Like Mirandizing me. Like telling me I could have a lawyer before being questioned. You did none of those things. You’re holding me right now and earlier in a locked room. Where’s the legality in any of that? Throw in the fact I’m a minor and you’re really screwed. So why aren’t you already running?”

“How do you know all this shit? You’re just a kid!”

“My dad’s the top defense lawyer in town. I love talking about this shit with him, about what rights we have, about police procedures. Hey, maybe you should hire him. Though the conflict-of-interest aspect of this might be a problem.”

He smiled. I didn’t expect that.

“Who’s going to believe you? How are you going to identify me? I’m going to take you back to the park and drop you off there. I’ll keep the statement, which is all I wanted from you. But it’s your word against mine on any of this crap. Get up. We’re leaving.”

I shook my head. “No, I’m comfortable here. I’m sure we’re on the Balsome estate. That’s where we are, isn’t it? I saw the gate when we drove in. No secret whose property it is beyond that very distinctive gate. I’m fine waiting here for help to arrive. You, though, are wasting precious getaway time.”

“Okay, stay here. That’s actually a very good idea. I’ll just lock you in here. No one will hear you yell. I’ll come back in a week or so and find the body. I’ll be a hero.”

He looked smug. I guess he’d gone through life being a bully and never saw a reason to change.

I stayed in my seat. “No, no hero. I think you’ve left it a bit too late. You should have run when I first mentioned it. You might have got away if you had. Now? No chance. You hear those sirens? They’re getting louder because they’re headed this way. What’s going to happen is, in a week or so, I’ll be back at school and you’ll be behind bars. For a very long time.”

The sirens were definitely getting louder. For the first time, he was looking uncomfortable.

“What do you mean, those sirens are headed this way?”

“The other thing a real policeman would do when taking someone into custody would be to search them. You didn’t bother. Of course, I was naked at the time, and you didn’t think of it later. But, my phone was in my pants pocket. While you were giving me private time to write my statement, I called my dad. I told him to get the police and follow the tracer in my phone to locate me and come get me, but I was pretty sure I was on the Balsome estate.

“From what I hear, you have about a minute before they arrive. Not enough time to get away now. I only have one question: why are you still here?”

I shook my head and watched as he yanked open the door.

As he fled, I yelled after him, “See you in court!”

The End

Posted 11 March 2026