The Border Part Six by Amy Cross Page B

time to see Beth watching him leave. He tried to smile, but he knew she’d see straight through any attempt to be cheery, so instead he simple waved at her. She didn’t wave back; she just stood and watched as if she was close to sobs, and finally he had to turn and look down at his hands again.
    “You don’t understand,” he whispered, hoping against hope that maybe somehow she’d be able to hear his words. “After what I did… If I stick around, if I ever come back to Bowley, they’ll kill me.”

I
     
    Today
     
    “Now, this is just a friendly chat,” Mr. Crutchlow continued, with a smile that seemed equal parts friendly and menacing. “We want to get a feel for you, Bob. Find out what kind of man you are, and whether you might fit in with our little community. Does that make sense to you?”
    Above, the air-conditioning unit was humming particularly loudly, as if it was drawing air from some deep, far-off part of the building.
    “Absolutely,” Bob replied, sitting up straight on the plastic chair in the middle of the room. He was trying to remember his mother’s advice about posture, trying to give a good impression to the three men sitting behind the desk. Unfortunately, after years of slouching at his desk, good posture was painful. “I just hope, um…” He paused, trying to work out how to impress them. “I just hope you know that I truly appreciate being given this opportunity.”
    “That’s nice,” Mr. Crutchlow replied, making a note. On either side of him, his two colleagues sat stony-faced, watching Bob with hawkish calm.
    “I, uh…” Bob couldn’t help glancing over at the door in the corner. Was that the door he’d be allowed to go through, he wondered, if he was accepted? There was a knot of excitement in his belly, and he felt certain that whatever was waiting for him in the Border, it had to be more exciting than anything he’d ever experienced in his life. From what he’d already been told, he had some vague notion of a huge, dark nightclub where anything was allowed and where the girls danced around topless, ready to be plucked one by one from the glare of the lights and taken through to a back room. “I really appreciate the -”
    Before he could finish, he felt a vibration in his pocket, and he realized his mobile phone was ringing, playing Single Ladies for the benefit of the room. He reached for it, before having second thoughts and deciding to just let it ring out.
    “Is that your mobile cellular device?” Mr. Crutchlow asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow. “I believe they call them smartphones?”
    His colleagues seemed to find this dryly amusing.
    “I’m very sorry,” Bob told him. “Ignore it, it’ll stop.”
    “Perhaps you’d like to answer it.”
    He shook his head. A moment later, the ringing stopped. “See?”
    Mr. Crutchlow stared at him for a moment, clearly unimpressed, before looking back down at his notes. “I believe you -”
    Suddenly Bob’s phone beeped, indicating that a voicemail had been left on his service.
    “Now what is it doing?” Mr. Crutchlow asked.
    “Ignore that,” Bob said with a broad, forced smile. “It’s just a message.”
    “I believe,” Mr. Crutchlow continued, “that you -”
    Before he could get another word out, the phone started ringing again.
    “Ignore it,” Bob said, nodding fervently. Reaching into his pocket, he took the phone out and tried to reject the call, only to accidentally answer it.
    “Hello?” Candy could be heard saying, her voice tinny but recognizable. “Bob, are you going to talk to me or not? I just wanna say that -”
    He cut the call, before turning his phone off.
    “I’m truly sorry about that,” he continued, starting to sweat. “It won’t happen again.” He slipped his phone away and waited for the three-member board to resume their interview, but as the seconds ticked past he began to realize that they were staring at him with barely-disguised bemusement. He could feel his