Bry yelled, “Tiff, come on.”
Tiff was running around, trying to collect all her crap (for a guy-ish acting girl she sure had an ass-load of gear).
“Hold on to your trunks, ya pain.”
Bry sighed and walked over to his car, turning to Gramps he said, “Thanks, Mac.”
Gramps gave him a smile. “Anytime.”
Just then, a car full of kids came slinking past Gramps' front gate, swung open to accommodate Bry's car. Slowing to a crawl, I squinted, trying to recognize the driver.
It was Carson Hamilton.
My sworn enemy, the jerk-off that had given me a truckload of crap last year and finally declared an uneasy truce. I narrowed my eyes into slits. What the hell did he want?
“Hey isn't that...” Bry started.
“Yeah,” Tiff answered.
“This can't be good,” John said.
“What are those dickheads doing here?” Jonesy said.
Gramps walked up giving Jonesy The Look again but was distracted by the honking.
It was Brett, leaning over the top of Carson, palm flattened out on the steering column, laying on the horn with his body.
“What in the Sam Hill is going on here?” Gramps asked rhetorically, throwing the towel down, hitching up his pants and striding over to the car.
Oh crap, this was going to get bad. Gramps had less of a filter than Jonesy.
I jogged to keep up with Gramps and just as we got to the car, Carson yelled, “Having fun with the fags and sluts, Caleb?” Then Brett gave the middle finger salute to Gramps and I.
Gramps leaned forward, a vein pulsating in his forehead. Oh, wow...
Carson tramped his foot down on the accelerator, peeling out where the asphalt met the driveway. Gravel sprayed up under the tires as they spun off, two or three hands waving out of the car. All with strategic fingers splayed.
Guess which ones?
Jade walked up behind Gramps and I, her beach towel clutched tightly around her. “I thought they said they wouldn't bug us.”
“Well, that's a long time for those morons to have 'bully-amnesia',” John said.
“It's been what? A whole two months?” Bry asked.
“Two and half,” I said.
“Who was that carload of assholes?” Gramps asked, lighting a fresh cigarette that bobbed distractingly as he spoke.
“Some creeps from our school losers,” Sophie said.
“Why would they be here, though?” Tiff asked logically.
“I don't know, but it can't be good,” I said.
Gramps turned, shielding his eyes from the fading sun. “They have people out here in Driftwood Point?”
I didn't think so. Hell, it was thirty minutes from Kent, well out of the range of cruising territory.
Bry snapped his fingers. “Wait a sec,” palming his chin, “isn't Carson a freshman? What's his dumb ass doing driving?”
Good point.
“You guys didn't know? He was held back.” Sophie said.
Figures.
The Js nodded and Jonesy asked, “He's how old then?”
Tiff rolled her eyes. “Gee, I wonder Jones? Sixteen maybe?”
She had him there. Ya had to be sixteen to drive. Mama and daddy must've paid for that special summer driving course.
“That makes sense, I mean, his parents probably heat the house with bundles of cash thrown into the fireplace,” Bry said.
“Nobody has fireplaces anymore, bright one,” Tiff said and Bry shot her the shut up look. Still, he was right; they were loaded.
My parents made decent money (my dad the bigwig mapping the human genome and that). But Mom thought we needed to “stay grounded,” or something. Whatever: show me the money. That's what I'm talkin' about.
Gramps (who we'd forgotten about, he'd been so quiet) said, “Sounds like you have a spoiled brat on your hands.” He looked at me. “Is this that mouth-breather that's the fire-starter?”
I nodded.
“Swell,” Gramps said. “I'll be prepared the next time.”
Wonderful, I wasn't looking forward to my Gramps becoming the flaming inferno.
Gramps saw my expression and laughed, ruffling my hair (no small thing as we were almost eye-to-eye now). “We've got John-boy here and he'll set him straight, right John?” he asked, turning the laser eye on John.
John was a psychic Null, if he was “tuned up,” nobody was torching anybody.
John's faced reddened and he said, “Yes, sir.” The Js weren't sure about admitting the whole paranormal agenda to adults. But this wasn't any adult. It was Gramps, he was disqualified as a real adult.
Gramps smiled at him and the tension slipped down a notch. “Caleb, pulse your mom and tell her you're ready to go.”
Bry shook his head. “Never a dull moment with Caleb.”
“That's part of his charm, Bro,” Jonesy said.
Right.
“Might be a family thing,” Bry said, his glance encompassing Gramps.
I hadn't considered that but maybe he'd rub off on me. The world could only have so many Jonesys and Gramps'.
“Well, thanks,” Bry said, sticking his hand out and Gramps shook it, clapping him on his back. “Come back next weekend with the kids, Bryan. You're always welcome here.”
Bry nodded, turning to get the screaming door open. Jade ran over to hug Gramps and he was stiff as a board, awkwardly patting her back and doing the backward lean.
“Thanks so much for having us over, I had a great day!” she said.
I knew better than anyone how much a normal family event meant to Jade. Her dad had been sprung from prison last month and she was on edge that he'd pop up like a drunken piece of toast in her life again. I knew, in my guts, that we hadn't seen the last of him but I never said anything. All the guys in the gang knew and we had our eyes peeled for his abusive bullshit.
I didn't like that Carson and Brett were back on the scene and so far from our home turf. Huh, something to think about later. There was always a new complication.
“Hey,” Gramps said.
I raised my eyebrows, Jade moving back to my side.
“Where’s Black Dog?”
“Onyx?” I said.
Gramps shrugged, he liked calling him Black Dog, anything to be contrary. Mom came by that honestly.
“He's at home. Mom has a cow when he comes home smelling like wet dog.”
“Humph!” Gramps muttered. “She oughta be okay with that. He's part lab, he can't help himself. And she had our dog in that lake for three months straight every summer until she moved out. Sleepin' on her bed every night... as a wet dog.”
Really?
I slung an arm around Gramps. “Was she a neat teenager, Gramps?”
“Who? Your Mom?” He laughed, slapping his knee. “That's rich? Neat, hell no!”
Interesting. Ammunition for later.
“Okay, see ya dudes later,” Tiff said, having heaved herself in Bry's car.
Bry gave the guy-salute to the rest of us.
“See ya,” Jonesy said.
The car lurched and choked out of the driveway, making the long limp home to Kent.
****
Mom and Gramps quietly talked by her car window. After what seemed like a long time, Gramps tapped her car door and squeezed her shoulder.
Turning to us kids, he said, “Next weekend if the weather cooperates.”
Mom smiled. “I think it's okay Pops, after all, it's past the Fourth, no worries,” and they shared a laugh. I never did get that but I guess the summer didn't get nice until after Independence Day. Whatever, if it was above sixty degrees and not raining (and sometimes when it was) we came to Lake Tapps, period.
The girls piled into the back with the Js and it was a tight squeeze. “That's not going to work. Here, let me move this stuff.”
Mom got all her crap off the front seat where it lived all the time: dedicated reader, her purse and a hoodie. Geez.
“Jade, sit by me. Caleb can sit by
the window, the Js and Sophie can hop in the back.”
“We woulda never fit in Bry's car,” Jonesy remarked.
“Never,” John said.
“That wreck? Caleb, I think we've spoken before about Bry's car not being safe enough for you to ride in,” she said, fumbling with her water bottle, lip gloss and all the other crap that had rolled out of the purse (suitcase). Jade and she were collecting it all and putting it back in her (yawning chasm) purse.
“Mom, it runs but we didn't have enough restraints so I opted out.”
“Opted out?” she said, a sly smile appearing on her face.
I smiled back, nodding.
“See, Ali. Caleb, my man has some...” Jonesy started.
“...discernment,” John finished.
Sophie and Jade rolled their eyes.
“I like it,” Mom said.
We crammed into the car, Jade squeezed between Mom and me, never complaining. We backed out of Gramps' driveway.
As I turned around to wave, Gramps stood on the front porch, legs apart and planted firmly on the stoop, cigarette stuffed between clenched lips. He stayed there until we were out of sight. A lone figure equal parts stalwart and imposing. He was part of what made up my internal barometer of right and wrong.
Gramps got me.
I watched him until he was a dot in the distance. I sighed, turning around, thinking of Brett and Carson making a reappearance after being MIA all summer. Whatever the significance was I didn't like it.
“Gramps told me about Brett and Carson showing up,” Mom said, her eyes trained to the road.
“Yeah, they're back on board.”
“It's okay Ali, A) Mac will attack, and B) Brett will be going to derelict KM.”
Uh-oh.
“I went to that school.”
It became alarmingly quiet in the car.
John saved it with a hail Mary. “My folks too. I guess it's gotten pretty bad in the last couple of decades.”
Minor fumble.
“On that note, I don't wish for Pop to get involved with that element,” she said, worry slipping into her tone. “He's old and volatile and could add fuel to the fire.”
Fuel to the fire with Carson. Nice. Gramps? He wouldn't do that.
Right.
Mom looked at me then back at the road. “I guess that wasn't the best play on words. Caleb, you haven’t told Pop much about those two have you?”
Enough.
Out loud I said, “Just the highlights, Mom.”
“Ugh! I wish you hadn't...you know how your dad feels about Pop knowing stuff about the family. He gets riled up easily.”
“It'll be okay, Dad can handle it.”
Time for off-topic. “I think I've decided to help Garcia.”
The Js said, “Really?” at the same time.
Mom's eyebrows came down into a straight line. “I know that you want to help with their murder investigation but I don't like the idea of you in harm's way, you and Tiff,” she tacked on.
“Tiff and I can't leave it alone, Mom. You know that. Besides, this is a chance for me to do something with the AFTD.” Affinity for the Dead was worthless unless I could help people. It was cool as hell that I could jerk zombies out of the ground but I wanted to do more. Running into the ghosts of those dead kids filled me with purpose. I could help and I wanted to help.
“Dad's cool with it.”
“Your mom has a small point,” Sophie said.
I turned around in my seat and gave her a glare that said clearly, don't help me, thanks.
Sorry, she looked back, but undaunted, she finished her thought, “What if that loser is alive, still killing kids and he catches on to the fact that you're the AFTD brains behind the tail on him. Yeah, he's going to really want you guys to keep breathing.”
Again, thanks so much for that, I thought sullenly.
Jade came to my defense, “Sophie, you remember how awful it was at the cemetery shack. Remember how sad it was? How many there were?” She shook her head, giving a small shudder at the memory. “He has to try. That's all he's saying. He and Tiff want to give something back.”
“Yeah. I mean, we survived last year with the Graysheets and all the other zombie crap and the drunken adults.”
Thanks Jonesy, another big help.
Jade looked down at her lap, her hands tightly clenched, knowing that one of the drunken adults had been her dad. I covered her hands with mine, splitting up their nervous embrace and holding them in one of mine. She looked up at me with a grateful smile, Mom ignoring the small intimacy.
Silence rolled out for a time, the highway stretched before us and we entered the valley area of Kent, cruising past Kent Station. I noted the Seattle Post-Intelligencer satellite office where I'd spilled my guts to Tim Anderson about the Graysheets; the loser, super-secret government group.
Professional creepers.
Jonesy stared at the Station as we roared by, Mom pausing at the railroad tracks then moving forward.
“Let's check out that new horror movie, what's it called?” he asked.
“Nightmare on Elm Street XX,” John said in a droll voice.
Sophie and Jade laughed. “Are you serious? Twenty?”
“I remember Pop seeing that in the theaters when the first one came out,” Mom said.
“Really?” That struck Jonesy dumb, almost.
Mom laughed. “Really.”
Jonesy plowed ahead, “Well, what do ya say? Let's do it.”
Sounded good but I looked at Jade. I knew Tiff'd be down with it but Sophie and Jade, they liked those movies where some guy saved a girl after a bunch of talking and no action.
What was the name of those lame-ass movies? Oh yeah, chick-flicks.
“A man cannot live on chick-flicks alone!” Jonesy shouted into the quiet of the car, the girls wincing.
“Jonesy, volume,” Mom said.
“Right, sorry.”
“We'll go see a girl movie next time,” John promised. His voice belaying how utterly cool he thought a kill them all movie would be.
The promise of violence was close enough to taste.
“You guys just want to see a bunch of Alpha males bash everyone and helpless females prance around until they get saved with the possibility of the gratuitous breast scene thrown in,” Sophie announced with confidence.
Right, so?
“I heard breasts but I don't know what all the other rant was about,” Jonesy said.
Cripes.
Sophie opened her mouth to spew forth her girl-wrath when John interjected, “I think we just like the movie as a whole, we're not trying to cop a look at naked bodies.”
“Speak for yourself, Terran.”
Oh hell. “Ah, hello? My mom's in the car, morons.”
Discussions with the words naked and girls in the same sentence should not be uttered in front of The Parents.
At which point Mom burst out laughing along with Jade and John. Sophie and Jonesy looked puzzled, her glaring at him and he with the what? look on his face.
Just another ride back from the lake.
Mom pulled up to Helen and Bill's house and Jonesy piled out. “Thanks Ali.” He slammed the car door practically off the hinges. Turning, he gave me the thumb signal that I needed to pulse him later. I gave him a chin-bob in acknowledgment and he disappeared into his house.
The car started to roll and Mom looked disapprovingly at the lawn as we drove away. “Looks like it's barely legal.”
“It is,” I said, defending Bill. Bill believed in a lawn as a man's God-given right.
“Humph,” she muttered. “The flower beds are nice if a little redundant.” I sighed.
Mom, the gardening-Nazi.
“Not everyone lives for gardening, Mom.”
Jade smiled. “I have sure learned a lot this summer, Ali.”
Mom smiled back. “You're an apt pupil.”
I almost did a huge eye-roll (kinda against guy-code), 'cuz Mom had a new prodigy and it wasn't me.
Jade and Mom continued their discussion of plants all the way to Jade's house, (Sophie and John had already been dropped off).
I walked her to the door, noting her sexy white cover up and how it contrasted with her cafe-au-lait skin. Sun-kissed, Mom called it. Forget that, I wanted to kiss it. All of it.
She looked over her shoulder at me just then. No Empath skills necessary. She knew that I dug her. Her smile said it all. She dug me too.
We got to the door and I looked around. Great, no adult eyes and I put a hand on each side of her rib cage, relishing the smallness. I could almost meet my hands when I encircled her waist.
“Don't, she said, backing up,” which I ignored, pulling her closer.
She giggled. “It tickles.”
I lowered my head and brushed my lips with hers, drawing her in tight against my body, every curve melding against me like it was tailor-made for it. She drew her mouth back and I pressed mine against hers until she opened her mouth and I licked a line against her bottom lip, nipping it a little.
She liked it, wrapping her arms around my neck, her fingers working their way through my hair. As we stood there making out on the porch, I let my hands wander over her body and they ended up on her little round butt and with not much effort (a buck five, remember), I picked her up and she wrapped her legs around my waist. Now that was a position worth keeping for awhile but Mom honked the horn and we had to disentangle. I let her body slide down the front of mine, her fragrant hair tickling my nose on the way. I pressed my lips against her forehead and squeezed her, not really wanting to let go.
She looked at me with her heart in her eyes and our hands lingered, until our fingers slipped out of their union. Jade walked backward 'til her butt hit the door, opening it from behind, never taking her eyes off mine and mouthed, love you.
What could I say to that. Me too, I mouthed back. The door closed and I turned around, walking back to the car, Jade a constant thing on my mind. She just kept becoming more, way more.
CHAPTER 3
I didn't feel like one of those dudes that's easily overwhelmed but Kent Paranormal High was huge.
I looked up at the school, only ten years old, and thought: I was gonna have to use the spinning weather vane in my head to find my way around. A guy could get lost, a completely uncool prospect.
The Death Series, Books 1-3: Death Whispers, Death Speaks and Death Inception (The Death Series, Volume 1) Page 40
