Jonesy started sifting through my stuff. “Hey, here's my history book from last year! I had to pay a fine for that.” He glared at me.
John threw up his hands. “Okay, let’s just dump the junk in the dirty clothes hamper, then put the dirty clothes in on top. We’ll put the clean clothes in the closet, and I guess stack all that crap in the bottom.” He shook his head.
“I hate to say it, Caleb, but I think you're gonna have to go downstairs and get a trash sack, one of those big ones like for leaves and stuff.”
I shook my head. “Can't, dude. We compost.”
John face-palmed. “I forgot your mom doesn't believe in trash.”
“My Dad does.”
“Really?” Jonesy asked.
“Yeah, but don't tell my mom. She thinks trash is very uncool.”
“Jonesy, minion, go fetch trash receptacle,” John said.
Jonesy gave a sharp salute and beat it downstairs.
Onyx stood patiently waiting for us people to figure it out.
He ran downstairs and returned with some garbage sacks. We crammed the trash pile into one then started into the closet.
“Do we give the school the history book back?” John asked.
Jonesy and I looked at it and, at the same time, said, “Nah.”
“Jinx!” Jonesy said, and we grinned at each other.
An hour later, the bags were full. There was a lot of floor space to choose a spot for Onyx.
After a long discussion, we decided that Onyx needed to be at the foot of my bed, near the computer desk.
I went over to my closet and pulled out Gran's afghan. I never used it because it was itchy. Mom said it was made of wool. She didn't like synthetic fibers since they were made with petroleum products. I folded it in half then half again, laying it in the new spot.
I thought, Here's your new bed.
Onyx walked over, sniffed the afghan, and lay down on it.
“Good dog.”
He wagged his tail.
“He sure seems like a good dog,” Jonesy said. Hearing that, Onyx wagged his tail harder.
John poked a stack of books with the toe of his shoe. “Why don't you use a reader?”
“It's like the watch, isn't it?” Jonesy said.
“Caleb is a little outdated,” John remarked.
“No. I just think that it's important to use some stuff that isn't modern. I mean, think about our dependence on Brain Impulse Technology? If everything went stupid, and suddenly that junk didn't work, just think about the chaos, even if it was only for an hour. People would have melt downs.”
John looked thoughtful. “You have a point.”
Jonesy pointed at my watch. “It's not even LED.”
I looked down at the funky thing. It had been Dad's first watch, and I liked it.
John grunted. “It's a manual.”
“A what?” Jonesy asked.
“You have to wind it every day to keep time.”
Jonesy looked baffled.
John shrugged. “I gotta split. Let's get this stuff back in the closet.”
While we finished up, Onyx sat on the blanket, watching us.
Jonesy whispered, “He's kinda creepy, Caleb, the way he just stares at us.”
The Boy could make people noises in the Dog's head. But the noises weren't as clear as the flavor. The Dog thought about how the Boy put a smell inside his head, all different types of smells, and they made a message. The Boy was very easy to understand. He was different from the others. The Dog dropped his nose to sniff the soft thing that smelled like old pack female. He closed his eyes, feeling something familiar... a sense of home. The Dog was happy.
His memories of the other Boy were dimming.
CHAPTER 24
The rest of the week dragged. I went to school, daydreamed about it ending, rushed home to see Onyx, ate some food, hung with the posse and Jade then did it all over again. All of us were getting so tired of school. The end of the year loomed large.
I hadn't seen much of Carson and Brett, but we’d be in the same high school next year—Kent Paranormal High, where all paranormals went. The regular high schools were split in accordance with different academic aptitudes. Jonesy had shown math and science aptitudes, so he was headed to Kent Lake High.
I was gonna really miss the Jonester, kinda tanked my mood.
Friday finally rolled around, and Jonesy said he thought the last day of school would be a blast.
“Ya see... it's a special day.” We were all at the lunch table festering about the possibilities of government plots, hiding what we were and such; ya know, normal conversation.
We waited expectantly for him to continue. Jonesy always had cool and bizarre ideas. Sometimes, like the disastrous cemetery plot with Carson, they didn't work out but it was interesting to see.
“Friday the thirteenth is coming up,” he said.
Sophie rolled her eyes. “So?”
Jonesy grinned. “It's an unlucky day. Stuff that's bad, that's gonna happen, happens then.”
Tiff strolled over, hands jammed into the pocket of her hoodie. The hood was pulled up, so only a sliver of her face showed. “Whatcha doin'?”
“Hey, Tiff,” I said.
“What's he sayin'?” Tiff asked, pointing at Jonesy.
Sophie said, “Jonesy thinks the last day of school is going to be riddled with bad luck because it's Friday the thirteenth.”
Tiff said without preamble, “That's a load of horseshit.”
I shrugged. “Ya never know, it could go okay. It's just supposed to be a warning, right?” I looked at John, who nodded.
“I know some bad stuff that's happened on that day,” Jonesy said in a creepy voice.
“Yeah, what?” Tiff asked, plunking down between Sophie and Jade, who gave her a miffed look. Tiff didn't have girl radar, or she'd have seen the problem with that move.
Tiff put her head in the cradle of both her hands, clearly bored and waving the red flag before the proverbial bull.
Jonesy answered, “There's this haunted house, ya know, the one where that old cemetery is. It's just a shack. I heard there was a kid that went in there and never came out.”
“Who told you that lame-ass story?” Tiff asked.
“One of the teachers,” Jonesy said triumphantly.
Jade took a bite of her apple. John put a Cheeto in each nostril and wiggled his nose. Sophie was unimpressed.
“You're gonna eat those now, aren't ya?” Tiff said, smacking her gum.
Terran's face flamed.
Jade sighed. “Boys.”
“Hey!” I exclaimed.
“Not you.” She fluttered her eyelashes at me and I was instantly smitten again.
“Listen up, chumps!” Jonesy said. “This is the plan.”
“Jonesy—” John started.
Jonesy held up one hand. “Hear me out. We're gonna go to this shack—”
“The one that's by a cemetery... smart,” Tiff said.
“Yeah, and I have the ghost-buster team here with me to take care of everything,” Jonesy said.
Tiff and I sighed.
“So we're gonna go there and see.”
“See what, Jonesy?” Jade asked.
“I don't know. Somethin', whatever.”
“Well, that clears things up a lot,” Sophie said.
Jonesy was immune to sarcasm. Everyone's.
“Jonesy's consistent,” John said neutrally.
I was figuring Jonesy for a full dark, check-out-the-haunted-house kinda guy. “It's a half-day, but I'm thinking we have to wait until dark.”
Jonesy slapped the table. “Hell, yeah! This is the best part. It won't be dark until late, like ten, so we have plenty of time to rabble-rouse before.”
A sneaking seed of suspicion started to take hold.
“You're not thinking of some cemetery shit again, are you?” I asked.
Jonesy put on an innocent face. “Who, me?”
Tiff's eyes narrowed into slits. “We
don't need the spotlight, Jones. We need to stay underground.”
“That wasn't the plan, but if something cool were to happen...” He spread his arms.
John said, “Let's stick to checking out the old place and seeing what's in it. No cemeteries.”
Jonesy looked embarrassed.
“Spill it,” Tiff said, snapping a bubble like a firecracker and Sophie jumped.
“Well, there's something I forgot to mention,” he said, putting his thumb and index fingers a paper's width from touching.
John spun his hand like a wheel, go on, and Jonesy finished with, “You gotta walk through the cemetery to get to the house.”
“I knew it!” Sophie said.
“I guess it's okay. Carson and Brett don't know we're going,” I said slowly.
I looked at Jonesy who would tell The World if he felt it would help The Cause, he shook his head; he hadn't said anything... yet.
Tiff interjected, “And it's a bonus your Gran isn't buried there. Wait. Do you have any other relatives buried there?”
I shook my head. “No, they're all at Scenic.”
“Well, thank God,” Sophie mumbled.
“Okay, I'm in,” Tiff said, leaning back and crossing her legs at the ankles. “Can Bry come?”
“Um… he's not gonna kick my ass, is he?” I didn't want to set myself up for the fall and with my girlfriend as the audience.
“Nah... he's over it.”
“Is he the cute one?” Sophie asked.
Jonesy glared at her. Interesting.
“How should I know?” Tiff asked. “He's my brother. Gross.”
The pulse clock chimed, and we stood, separating our trash. The Js trailed behind as Jade and I walked to our next class.
“What do you think you'll get out of biology?” Jade asked. “It was kind of a cluster with the frog thing.”
“Maybe I softened him up, knowing stuff about flowers.”
Jade's eyebrows shot up.
I nodded. “Yeah, my mom makes me do gardening chores.”
“That's why you knew about the plant names when I came over.” She smiled up at me.
Huh, bonus point.
“It beats cleaning toilets,” I said.
“Yeah, that's a gross job. I'd rather learn about plants.”
She had the chores I hated, and I had made a big deal out of it. Geez, Hart, good going.
“This summer, you can come over and we'll do gardening together. I bet my mom would love the help!”
“All right, cool!”
We stopped beside my classroom door.
“Have fuuuunnn!” she teased.
“Oh, yeah. And monkeys will fly outta my butt!” I said.
She giggled, and I laid a kiss on her mouth. Her lips felt like crushed velvet. Sensory overload!
Last week of school, a plan for creepy Friday the Thirteenth, a new dog and a hot girlfriend; life was rocking about now.
CHAPTER 25
I was splitting my time between the Js and Jade and it was a job. The guys told me they wanted to hang at Jonesy's. I called Jade, and she okayed a change for me to see her Saturday night instead. Mom asked what Jonesy's mom was making for supper. I didn't know. I told her we'd probably forage in the pantry and come up with something good. Mom decided to make a pizza and send it with me.
I jetted over to Jonesy's on Dad's old one-speed Schwinn. I was sure I'd hear about that from Jonesy, but I didn't care. I loved the old stuff.
The pizza dangled from the handle bars in a most undignified way. The bag swung and whacked the bike as I rode to Meridian Villa. My dad grew up there. The houses were just the next step older than my neighborhood. Jonesy's parents had actually bought the house that Jonesy's dad had lived in as a kid.
I parked my bike in the circular driveway. Jonesy's house was cooler than mine. He even had a walk-out basement. Dad called those man-caves. The house was really flat looking and hugged the knoll it lounged on. Small windows that looked like eyes lined the point where the basement met the flower beds. The lawn was small and barely within legal limits. Seemed like some dudes just had to have a lawn. Mom would have never allowed it at our house, not Eco-enough. Mom thought lawns were for outdoor sports fields, period. I loved a lawn. It was a slash of emerald green that anchored the flower beds. Jonesy's mom wasn't a garden zealot like my mom, but she made it look nice.
I climbed the three, broad, concrete steps, ringing the bell.
Jonesy’s mom, Helen, answered the door with a grin. “Hey Caleb! Long time no see!” Her impenetrable hair stood at stiff attention (and looked like a rat lived on top).
Aqua Net queen.
I smiled. “Hi, Mrs. Jones.”
She frowned, and I corrected with “I mean... Helen.”
“That's better,” Helen said, ruffling my hair.
I ducked my head. “My mom made some pizza.”
“Good deal, we'll add it to mine.”
Great, more pizza. Happy Friday! I walked down the long hallway painted McDonald's yellow. With such a neutral exterior, the yellow was a shocker. But Helen said that with our gloomy Pacific Northwest days, she needed the sun inside her house.
I could hear the guys before I got to Jonesy's room.
When I went in, Jonesy and John were sitting on the floor, eyes glued to their readers. I walked over and knelt beside them. They were reading comics.
“Look at this dude. Hell, I’d love to be him.” Jonesy said, pointing to a picture of guy lifting a car off someone.
“You got that. I'm just a Null,” John said.
“At least you're something, you ingrate,” Jonesy replied.
“Hey, look at this.” I pointed to a small boy in the background. He was watching the rescue with big eyes, but he had one finger on the bumper.
“Is that kid doing it or the guy in the cape?”
“Hold on!” John leapt up and ran out of the room.
“What's he doing?” I asked Jonesy.
“I don't know.”
John returned with a large magnifying glass.
“This will do the trick!”
We all bent forward again. Jonesy held the magnifying glass over the reader. The kid did seem to be holding up part of the car.
“You remember Alex?” John said.
“The bad piano player?”
“Yeah. He told me that there were hidden messages in the comics.”
“Wow! All right, so what does it mean?” I asked.
“Well, that's what we've been trying to decipher with these comics.”
“What does Alex say it means?”
“He thinks there are allies of the paranormals that have been shut down by the government, and there are subtle messages in the comics that talk about what is going on, what they're doing. Maybe even where they might be located.”
“And Alex got this all from what? Did he just pull it out of his ass?” Jonesy asked.
I had a visual of Alex, who was such a nerd it hurt to look at him, but he was truly smart. Maybe there was something to this.
Jonesy turned off his DR. “That's for when we have more time. I have a plan.”
Oh joy.
John asked, “What now? I thought we were going to talk about the comic messages.”
“Later. Besides, you've already agreed to this,” Jonesy said.
“What?” I asked.
“Let's figure out the hideaway while there's no chicks around to ruin it,” Jonesy answered.
“Jade wouldn't ruin it,” I said.
“She wouldn't mean to, but she still distracts you. She's like the shiny thing. She moves, and you follow. Squirrel.” Jonesy threw out his hands.
John shook his head. “He's right, Caleb. You're kinda gone on her.”
“I'm here tonight, aren't I?” I asked defensively.
“Yeah,” John said, “but we're not getting together as much as we were. It's okay. I'm just sayin'.”
“Okay,” I said, changing the subject back. “I want to find a p
lace to have a safe zone. Somewhere we can go if the government gets wind of me.”
“That's what I'm talkin' about, Caleb,” Jonesy said.
I still felt uncomfortable doing the zombie slave labor.
“Come on Caleb, we need them,” Jonesy said, seeing my face.
“I’ve been thinking of a way for us to use the zombies and get them back without being noticed,” John said.
I held up my hand. “Let's just wait and see if we even need to use them. Maybe we'll find a really cool place in the old dump, and it will be perfect.”
“Let's go tonight, right now,” Jonesy said.
“I gotta have some food first,” John said.
Right on cue, my stomach did a huge rumble.
“That's a sign,” Jonesy said.
We walked out to the kitchen and plopped down on stools at the breakfast bar. Jonesy's mom poured three Big Red. Helen believed sugar was a food group. That made me happy on a deep level.
She put a plate with four slices of pizza in front of each of us. My mom's pizza was demolished during round one. Jonesy and I were okay after that, but John had to have two more. Helen said she still had a whole pizza left.
“I don't wanna walk, Caleb,” Jonesy said through a mound of food crammed into one side of his mouth.
“Listen, mister, don't talk with your mouth full,” Helen said.
“Sorry, Mom.” Jonesy smiled, the pizza guts showing through his teeth.
“Why don’t you wanna walk?” I asked.
“Because I think it will be fun to watch you ride on that old bike of yours. I need a laugh.”
Helen said, “Jonesy, that is a perfectly adequate bike.”
“Mom, have you seen it? It's pathetic. It's a one-speed.”
“Those are classic instruments for the development of large motor skills,” she said.
“Huh?” Jonesy asked.
“She’s is talking about your butt,” John said.
“There are no gears, right? So it forces you to use the booty gear.”
“Precisely, John, and I thank you for clarifying,” Helen replied.
“You're just not gonna admit that it's not as cool as my Raleigh Scout, Mom,” Jonesy said.
“Not on your life, big-for-your-britches.”
John and I barked out appreciative laughs. The DNA train wasn't far from the track with his smart-ass behavior.
Jonesy glowered at his mom but she didn't even flinch; tough-as-nails, dug it.
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