The Masked Family

by Robert T. Jeschonek

  But there was something about him that set off alarms in the Nuclear Family. Maybe it was the strange glint in his eye, a glint that could have been mischievous or smart-alecky or just plain mean in contrast with the friendly smile on his face. Maybe it was his crooked teeth, more crooked than any of them had ever seen, with incisors that poked like fangs over his lower lip when he smiled.

  "Kids, this is Grogan Salt," said E.Q.

  "Hi," said Grogan, nodding and raising a bony arm to wave at them.

  "Grogan's your cousin," said E.Q. "Maybe you remember him. He's Aunt Agnes's son. Your mother's sister's son."

  None of the four heroes said a word.

  "Grogan's going to live with us for a while." E.Q. stroked his neat mustache as he looked from kid to kid. "I want you all to make him feel at home."

  The Nuclear Family kids stood stock still. It was as if a bomb had gone off in the middle of the room, and all they could do was stare at the damage from the explosion.

  At that moment, Maxi-Mom walked down the stairs into the living room, carrying a yellow laundry basket full of sheets. She wore her cleaning clothes--bluejeans and a deep green sweatshirt with the Notre Dame "Fightin' Irish" logo on the front. Her glossy red hair, with bangs and sides feathered in the latest style, had fallen askew the way it sometimes did when she was running around doing housework. "All set." Green eyes sparkling, she smiled at Grogan. "Grogan, you'll use Cary's bed in his and Baron's room for the time being."

  Finally, The Hurry was able to speak. "But where'll I sleep if he gets my bed?"

  Maxi-Mom--whose name was Lydia--rubbed her chin on her shoulder. "We'll set up a cot in the girls' room. Just till we get another bed."

  "But Mom!" said The Hurry. "I wanna sleep in my own bed!"

  "Well, you'll just have to make do." Lydia narrowed her bright green eyes at Cary.

  "I-I-I cansleeponthefloor," said Grogan. "Ihaveasleeping b-b-bag." When he spoke, he stuttered on some words and ran others together in a breakneck crush. He talked differently from anyone else the kids had ever known; they could barely understand him at first, though they would soon come to know his voice well...and dread it.

  Lydia beamed at him. "That's very kind of you to offer, but I won't have you sleeping on the floor. Cary will manage."

  "Come on, Grogan," said E.Q., getting up from the sofa. "I'll show you around."

  "ThanksMister B-B-Beacon," said Grogan.

  "You kids go clean up your rooms," said Lydia. "Baron and Cary, make room in your dresser drawers for Grogan's things."

  With that, Lydia turned and headed into the kitchen on her way to the basement with the laundry basket. E.Q. followed.

  On his way past the kids, Grogan Salt turned and gave them a look of pure disgust. He pointed an index finger at Musclebot and sneered...then curled the finger back into his fist and shook it.

  Then, he curled out another finger--the middle one this time--and stuck it straight up.

  It was at that moment that the Nuclear Family knew that they were truly facing their greatest enemy. He'd fooled their parents and infiltrated their secret headquarters.

  He'd come to live among them, and they had a feeling that wasn't a good thing...though none of them knew at the time just how bad it would be.

  *****

  Chapter Five

  Lilly, Pennsylvania

  Saturday, April 5, 1924, 8:30 PM

  The white-robed men of the Ku Klux Klan looked more menacing than ever as they marched by torchlight through the streets of Lilly. Olenka Pankowski shivered as she watched the firelight flicker over them, picking out their pale forms like ghosts in the night.

  "They had it all planned out, didn't they?" said Renata Petrilli, squeezing Olenka's hand almost hard enough to crush it.

  Olenka nodded. The Klansmen had brought the torches with them from the trains and had been ready to light them just as soon as the blackout hit. Moments after all the electric lights in town had gone out, the Klansmen had ignited the torches and held them high without missing a step of the march.

  "This is different from the other times they were here." Renata's voice was a frightened whimper. "What happens now?"

  Olenka pointed at the river of white flowing down the street. A huge wooden cross glided past, carried overhead by the ranks of robed men.

  "They didn't bring that to donate to the church," said Olenka. "That's for sure."

  Old Father Stanislavski was standing behind her. "The cross is just part of it," he said. "They brought other supplies, too."

  Olenka watched the white-robed men marching past. Some of them carried crates and cartons. Many toted sacks over their shoulders, sacks bulging with unidentifiable, heavy-looking shapes.

  "This is a big night for them," said Father Stanislavski. "Their idea of Christmas."

  Just then, Dominick Campitelli pushed out of the crowd. He shouted at the passing Klansmen just a few feet away. "You think we're afraid of the dark? Turn off the lights and we'll turn tail?"

  The Klansmen must have heard him, but they gave no sign. They kept their eyes straight ahead and their faces without expression, as if their hoods deflected all noise.

  "We are the dark," said Dominick. "We live in the dark. We're miners, you idiots!"

  Some of the men in the crowd clapped and shouted encouragement. Olenka just watched, her heart pounding as Dominick took another step closer to the marching columns.

  "Death is our best friend," said Dominick. "You boys don't know what you've got yourselves into here."

  Olenka heard scattered cheers and applause. Grinning, Dominick hawked something up from deep in his throat and leaned forward.

  Before he could spit it out, however, Father Stanislavski shot from the crowd and grabbed him by the arm. Dominick stumbled but didn't fall as Father Stanislavski yanked him back away from the river of white robes.

  "Hey!" said Dominick. "What'd you do that for?"

  "You almost gave them the best gift they could ask for." Father Stanislavski glared at him. "An excuse."

  Dominick shook his arm free of Father Stanislavski's grip. "How much longer are we gonna wait? Are we gonna let these strangers wreck our town?"

  "Hell no!" said Dominick's best friend, Nicolo Genovese.

  Father Stanislavski stood his ground, staring down at Dominick. Though Father was in his seventies, with wispy white hair and wrinkles, he was seven feet tall and could still be an intimidating presence when he wanted. "Please be patient. Don't give them what they want."

  "I'm talkin' about givin' 'em what I want." As the end of the long parade of Klansmen passed by, Dominick ran out to stand in the street behind them. "I wanna get rid of these morons for good."

  Nicolo trotted out after him. "This is our town." He shook a fist in the air. "I say we run 'em out on the same rail they came in on!"

  At that moment, a pair of headlights flared from the darkness as a car turned a corner down the street. Olenka looked toward it, as did the rest of the townspeople. Everyone squinted as their eyes adjusted to the brightness. It was the first electric light they'd seen since the power had been cut.

  "Is that more of 'em?" said a man in the crowd.

  "I bet it is," said another man.

  "Well they ain't invited." With his hands held out in front of him, Dominick marched straight toward the headlights. "They'll have to go have their picnic somewhere else."

  Nicolo followed Dominick, and other men trickled out of the crowd after them. The approaching car drifted a little closer, then stopped.

  Through the windshield, Olenka saw a middle-aged, dark-haired man at the wheel. A big dog sat beside him and barked its head off as Dominick and Nicolo drew up to the driver's side window.

  "Hey, buddy," said Dominick. "What brings you to Lilly this fine evening?"

  "There's another one!" said one of the other men, Stefan Volta. He broke away from the first car and headed down the street. Three men went with him, aiming for a car that had just turned onto the main dra
g.

  As the rest of the crowd filtered into the street, Father Stanislavski turned to Olenka and Renata. "You girls should go home," he said. "If the Klan doesn't get you, your neighbors might."

  "Yes, Father." Renata pulled Olenka by the hand as Father Stanislavski walked away. "Come on, Olenka."

  Olenka resisted. "You go." She watched as Father Stanislavski approached Dominick and Nicolo and joined the conversation with the man with the barking dog.

  Renata pulled Olenka's hand harder. "It's not safe."

  "I can't just leave." Olenka wrenched her hand free. "I have to help."

  "But this is bad." Renata's voice trembled. "It's like the end of the world."

  "That's just what they want us to think," said Olenka.

  At that moment, a roar of voices surged up from the direction of Piper's Field on the edge of town. Looking that way between buildings, Olenka saw the top of the giant cross that the Klansmen had carried through town, erect now and burning with yellow flame.

  The crowd of townspeople fell silent for a moment, all staring at the fiery cross. Then, an angry murmur began to build among them.

  Dominick and Nicolo abandoned the driver they'd been interrogating and turned toward the firelight. "Well ain't that pretty?" said Dominick.

  "Nice of them to light things up some," said Nicolo.

  "Know what I'd really like to see, though?" Dominick raised his voice to a shout. "A couple a' Ku Klux Klannies burnin' like that."

  The crowd clapped and cheered. Dominick waved, and almost everyone followed him and Nicolo down the street.

  Olenka had to hurry to keep up with Father Stanislavski, who stayed near the front of the crowd. She was glad, when he spotted her, that he didn't reprimand her for not going home like he'd told her to.

  "These are good people, aren't they?" he said to her.

  "Yes, Father," said Olenka.

  "Then if I were you," said Father Stanislavski, "I'd say a prayer that they stay that way."

  "I will, Father," said Olenka, and she did.

  *****

  Chapter Six

  Indianapolis, Indiana, 2006

  Cary's cell phone rang when he was sitting in traffic on Interstate 70 in the middle of Indianapolis, Indiana. The flashing lights of emergency vehicles strobed up ahead, where two crashed cars smoked in the heavy rain.

  "Tucson," whispered Glo, only she said it like Two-Shawn. "That's where we are. Where we were, I mean."

  Cary's heart hammered in his chest. He wished he were on the other side of the wreck, free and clear, charging to the rescue...though he wouldn't have been much farther ahead, not really.

  "What do you mean?" Agitated as he was, Cary forced himself to speak softly. "Where are you now?"

  "I don't know." Glo sounded calmer than the last time she'd called, but her voice still shook. "In the car. Mommy and Daddy are in a bar."

  With his thumb, Cary rubbed the blue Starbeam Ring on his pinky finger. More than anything, he wished the ring would activate his powers right now and send him racing to Glo's side in a fraction of a heartbeat.

  "I'm glad you and Late are all right." Cary thought about ramming his way through the traffic jam and wreckage, anything to get moving again. "So you say you're in a car?"

  "Uh-huh. Driving away from Two-Shawn."

  Cary kept rubbing the Starbeam Ring. "Do you know where you are? Do you see any signs?"

  There were shifting and rustling sounds from the other end of the call. "Eighty-Six," said Glo. "And a 'W'."

  "West," said Cary. "Anything else?"

  Suddenly, another, younger voice piped up on the line. "I wanna come home. Please take us home." It was six-year-old Late, unselfconsciously making no effort at all to keep his voice down.

  Cary's eyes burned as tears welled up in them. "What's the Nuclear Family's motto?" he said.

  "'No one can stop the Nukelar Family'?" said Late.

  "The other one." Cary sniffed and wiped his eyes.

  "'The Nukelar Family takes care of its own'?"

  "There ya go." Cary stared at his Starbeam Ring as he said it. "And you're part of the Nuclear Family, right?"

  "Yeah," said Late.

  "So I'm going to take care of you," said Cary. "And you're going to take care of your sister till I get there. Got it?"

  "I'll use my powers," said Late.

  Cary smiled. "You do that." Glo and Late were the new generation of the Nuclear Family, picking up where Cary and his brother and sisters had left off. Cary had even made them costumes and given them rings that were similar to the original Family's Starbeam Rings.

  The cool thing was, the kids were naturals at the super-hero game. In fact, they'd been playing super-heroes long before Cary had come into their lives. By the time he'd come along, they'd already invented their own code names. Glorianna had become "Glo," and Nate had become "Late."

  Cary had bonded fast with these kids who were so much like the Nuclear Family of his childhood. They also had a lot in common with Cary in his adulthood.

  For one thing, like Cary, they claimed to have actual super powers.

  And Cary believed them.

  "Cary?" Glo broke in on the call again, the tone of her voice urgent. "I have to tell you something. I think I know where we're going."

  Glo said something else, but her voice was drowned out by a blast from the siren of the ambulance up ahead.

  "What was that, Glo?" Cary pressed the cell phone's earpiece more tightly against his ear.

  "Here they come!" Late said in the background. "Mommy and Daddy are coming!"

  Cary's heart pounded so fast, he thought his chest would explode. If Crystal took Glo's phone, or the battery died, this could be the last time he'd hear from Glo over her cell.

  It might also be the last time he ever heard her voice, period. "Quick, Glo! Tell me where!"

  Glo whispered one word and hung up.

  Cary let out a deep breath and leaned back against the seat of his cab. His trip had just gotten longer.

  How am I going to do this?

  He'd been on the road for more than five hours. He still had a day of solid driving ahead to get to Tucson. Twenty-four hours at least.

  Now, he had to go further still. He might have to go a very long way indeed, because Glo hadn't narrowed it down much for him.

  After all, Mexico was a big place. It would be an easy place for the new Nuclear Family to disappear forever.

  Cary closed his eyes and clutched the Starbeam Ring tightly in his hand.

  Please give me my powers so I can save those kids.

  Please please please give me my powers.

  He opened his eyes when a horn beeped behind him. He felt no different and knew right away that his powers had not returned.

  But when he looked ahead of him, he saw that the wreck had been cleared, and traffic was moving again.

  *****

  Chapter Seven

  Wheeling, West Virginia, 2006

  Celeste brushed her fingertips over the super-hero costume laid out on the bed in Cary's trailer. Her latest thought was the same as the first one that had run through her mind when she'd walked into the place.

  I knew it.

  The sick feeling in the pit of her stomach grew stronger. Something about the way the costume was spread out on the mattress pad made her throat tighten.

  Cary's in trouble.

  Celeste jerked her hand away from the blue tights and red cape and stepped back from the bed. Wide-eyed, she looked around the stripped-down room; nothing was left but the costume and the bed with its mattress pad.

  Nothing and no one was left.

  The last time Celeste had been here, the place had been full of junk and life and noise. If anything, the single-wide trailer had seemed crowded, what with Cary, Crystal, Glorianna, and Nate all sharing the space.

  Now it was the opposite of crowded. It hardly seemed like the same place. Cary, Crystal, Glorianna, and Nate had disappeared and taken everything with them.
<
br />   And no one told me. No one said a word.

  That was what made it scary. If it had been business as usual, there was no way Cary wouldn't have called and told Celeste.

  Unless he couldn't call. Unless something's happened to him.

  Cary was always unconventional...often unpredictable...but never unreliable when it came to Celeste. Without fail, he had kept her in the loop every time something big had happened to him.

  But not this time.

  Cary's in trouble.

  The big questions, of course, were why was he in trouble and where was he now. Celeste wouldn't be able to help him if she couldn't find him.

  And she wouldn't be able to find him if he'd left no clues behind.

  Hunkering down on her hands and knees, Celeste looked under the bed. She saw nothing nearby, but on the other side of the bed, a piece of carpet curled up in the air.

  Celeste got to her feet and walked around the bed. In the corner of the room, she spotted the curl of carpet, riding up over a square of plywood twelve inches on a side. The square sat cockeyed over a square hole of the same size, as if the piece of wood had been pried up, then dropped haphazardly not quite in place.

  Frowning, Celeste squatted by the hole. She lifted the carpet, then pushed the plywood square aside and peered down into the gap.

  Nothing. She reached into the hole and fished around, but it was dead empty.

  Someone had beaten her to it. She wondered, though, if that someone had found the other hiding places Cary must have staked out in the trailer.

  I'll bet you missed one.

  For the next two hours, she went over every inch of the place. She tried every spot that she knew from experience might likely hold a hiding place.

  She yanked up every loose patch of carpet and looked for more secret panels cut from the plywood floors. She pulled out the drawers in the bathroom and kitchen, searching for envelopes taped to their undersides. She checked behind and below the refrigerator and stove. She pried at the paneling and woodwork to see if any of it would easily break free.