The Haunting of Pico (Pico, Texas - Book 1)

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The Haunting of Pico (Pico, Texas - Book 1) Page 14

by PATRICK KAMPMAN


  After dinner, Eve stormed in while I was cleaning up. It was my week for dishes, which sucked since Mom was back to cooking this week. It still irked me that Eve had been on dish duty last week, when we had eaten out almost every night.

  “I can’t believe you haven’t asked her yet!”

  “Huh?” I turned, holding a dripping sponge in one hand and a pot in the other.

  She got right in my face. “Hello? Becky? The dance is next week! What are you waiting for? Leaving a girl in suspense is okay to a point, but this is dumb even for you.”

  Once again, the speed at which news traveled in this town startled me. I hadn’t been home from Freddy’s for more than an hour and Eve already knew I had been there and hadn’t asked Becky to the dance. I turned back to the sink and said, “I’m sure Richard is going to take her.”

  “So stupid.” She gave me one of her looks and shook her head. “Are you blind? If you blow this one, I…. I give up.” She stormed back out.

  I went through the motions until it was time for bed, then I lay in the dark for over an hour. Eve was right: this was stupid. It was too much drama around one little dance. So what if Becky was using me? Maybe I could convince her to just never stop. And really, how bad could it be to be used by her? It beat the alterative, I thought, giving my computer a sideways glance.

  I grabbed my phone and pulled up Becky’s number. The picture she took of herself at the City Pharmacy soda fountain, complete with black and green hair, smiled back at me. I was about to hit the call button when a voice interrupted me.

  “Aw, were you going to call little old me?”

  I jumped straight into the air and landed, standing up, in the middle of the mattress. I didn’t know why; I should have been used to her by now.

  “What’s wrong?” Rose asked. I looked toward the voice, and could just make out the shadow of her figure sitting sideways in the open window.

  “You surprised me.” I reached down and flicked on my bedside light.

  “Is that why your heart is racing? I can feel it from here. But that’s not what’s bothering you, is it?”

  “Nah, I’m getting used to you giving me heart attacks. I was just thinking about Becky, and if she genuinely liked me, or if she was just using me to mess with her dad.”

  “Her again.” Rose pursed her lips, hopped off the window sill and sat on my bed. “I wouldn’t fret too much; it wouldn’t have lasted anyway.”

  “Why not? I like her. She likes me. I mean, I think she does. It’s hard to tell. I don’t know!”

  She looked up at me. “Stop being so melodramatic. And are you really going to stand up there looming over me all night?”

  “Oh, sorry.” I realized I was still standing on my mattress. I sheepishly sat on the bed next to her.

  She scooted close, leaning in to kiss my cheek. Her lips were cool and gentle.

  “Um. I don’t even think everyone’s asleep yet.”

  “Then we’ll just have to be extra quiet,” Rose whispered in my ear, nibbling a little. Then she kissed me again. But this time, instead of the one peck she had always given me before, she didn’t stop. My heart started racing as she continued to kiss my cheek gradually making her way to my mouth.

  “I shouldn’t, Becky would—”

  “Enough with the redhead! We’ve already decided she isn’t good for you.” She reached past me to tip Becky’s picture over, and then turned off the light.

  “Now, let’s see if we can take your mind off her, shall we?” Rose’s fingers grazed my chin, turning my head toward her. Our lips met, and I was lost for I don’t know how long.

  I don’t even remember how we got to be lying down. Things were heating up, and I had to do something or they weren’t going to stop. Don’t get me wrong, I’m definitely not a prude, but something was just a little wrong about the whole thing. Something that made me hesitate. Reconsider. Little alarm bells went off way in the background, just distracting enough to keep me from giving in. I wondered if my hesitation had anything to do with the girl whose picture lay face down on my nightstand, or whether self-preservation was kicking in.

  By force of will, I pulled back for a breath. “Um, hey, can I ask you something?” I didn’t have a question; it was just the fastest thing I came up with to stop what was happening.

  Rose drew her head back a few inches but kept her body pressed against mine. “Of course. I can’t promise you’ll like the answer, though.”

  “Want to go to the dance with me on Saturday?” I wasn’t sure why that question came out. Perhaps it was because I had spent all night thinking about taking Becky. In retrospect, I really should have come up with something different. Maybe I could have asked her how many kids she wanted, or if she had a sister. But I was frazzled, and that was apparently the best I could come up with at the time.

  “A dance?” Rose had gone still in my arms. I held my breath; the implications of what I had done crept in. Only an eerie, dead silence remained.

  I let out my breath. “Yeah. You know, with music and everything. There might even be punch.”

  “Why, Christopher—I would be delighted to accompany you to the dance.”

  “Really? I mean, it’s only a high school dance. You probably wouldn’t have much fun.” I was in shock. The question might have stopped us from doing something I wasn’t ready for, at least not with her, but it put a definite kink in my plans with Becky.

  She disentangled herself from me and paced the floor like my dad had done in the kitchen earlier.

  “I haven’t been surprised in a while, but Christopher, you have managed to surprise me. Of course, it won’t be very convenient for us. This will change things, speed them up. But I’m nothing if not adaptable. And we’ve spent long enough here, I suppose. Time for a change.” I think she was talking to herself.

  “So, um, great!” It wasn’t, but what else could I say? I couldn’t imagine how I would explain this to Becky.

  “I don’t have a license yet, so I can’t exactly pick you up, but my mom can give us a ride.” It was a last-ditch effort; I hoped she was too vain to be driven to a dance by her date’s parent.

  “No, I’ll drive.” I didn’t think ninety-year-old specters could drive, but I wasn’t going to correct her. I wondered if her car would be something cool, like a hearse or a haunted carriage.

  “So… it’s a date,” I said, trying to sound more enthusiastic than I felt.

  “It is, in fact.” She stopped pacing and smiled. “My first in a very long time.”

  Rose held out a hand to pull me up from the bed. I stumbled a little, feeling lightheaded. Her arms wrapped around me, holding me steady as her body pressed against mine. The kiss lasted forever, sweeping all thoughts of Becky from my mind. Against my better judgment, I had started to bring her back to the bed when she pulled away.

  “Now, Christopher, we haven’t even had our first date yet. We’ll have all the time in the world for that!” Oh, now she decides to be proper. Giving me one last peck on the cheek, she practically glided to the window.

  “I’ll see you Saturday at nine.” Then she was gone.

  I was in no mood to sleep. All I could think about was Rose and her cool blue eyes staring into mine. Funny—in the dark you shouldn’t be able to see color, but I saw it plain as day. The crisp blue was penetrating and beautiful, looking right into me, into places that were private. And then I started to picture the rest of her….

  “What I need is a cold shower,” I muttered.

  The AC kicked on.

  Chapter 18

  I woke up and stretched lazily, looking at my clock. It was almost eleven, but despite sleeping in, I still felt tired. Becky’s picture lay face down, so I set it back up. That’s when I remembered what happened last night, including what I committed to. A sense of dread washed over me. The repercussions were not going to be pretty. I tried not to think about what would happen when everyone found out I was taking Rose to the dance.

  At least it would pro
ve she existed. God, I hoped it would. Either that or I was going to go through a nightmarish version of the Emperor’s New Clothes. Except in my version, instead of being naked at court thinking I was dressed, I would be all alone at a dance thinking I had a date.

  I stopped myself from dwelling on it, got ready for Becky’s Labor Day party and headed downstairs. Eve was already in the kitchen. Judging by the swimsuit she wore under her sundress, she had been invited as well.

  My dad gave the two of us a ride over. It turned out Becky lived on the outskirts of town in a big house situated on several acres. What looked like a warehouse sat beside the sprawling residence, and I wondered what was in it. The party had only officially started an hour ago, but the circular driveway was already packed with cars.

  My sister and I were met at the door by a powerfully built man wearing a cowboy hat and a pair of swim trunks that looked like they had been made from a Texas flag. It was the same guy I had seen Becky talk to after the first game. The close-cropped hair under his hat was more of a fiery red than Becky’s strawberry blonde.

  “You must be Chris! And that would make the better-looking one Eve! Pleased to meet you both. C’mon in—everyone’s out back.” He shook my hand without batting an eye. I guess Becky wasn’t keeping me—or my race—a secret.

  We followed him to a large room in the back of the house. The decoration was cowboy chic; animal trophies on the walls overlooked black-and-white cowhide furniture. It was a style we didn’t see much of in California.

  About a dozen people from school were hanging out here, watching four kids play a video game on a giant TV. I could see another couple of dozen classmates in the backyard, in and around a large pool.

  “Hey, Chris!” Becky bounded up to me from somewhere. I took one look at her big grin and a second look at what must be her new bikini, and tried to figure out what I had been thinking last night with Rose. Becky had kept her hair its natural color, but the piercings were still in place. I added another one to my mental tally, taking in the short strand of diamonds at her stomach.

  “Hi, Becky!”

  “Well, all right. You kids go have fun. I’m going to check on the grill.”

  “Thanks, Mr. Bailey,” said Eve. Becky’s father actually tipped his hat to her before leaving for the barbeque.

  “C’mon, we need a couple more people.” Becky took my hand and, motioning to include Eve, brought us out to the pool where a game of water volleyball raged. I wasn’t particularly tall, but I was fast and fairly coordinated, and I knew how to play volleyball.

  After about an hour and a half in the sun, I was exhausted, hungry, and a little well-done. Fortunately, everyone else was, too, and we unanimously decided on a break.

  It turned out Mr. Bailey was a heck of a cook. The barbeque was great, and after my second helping I was ready to lie on a lounge chair for a few hours. Becky had wandered off, so I tried it. It was bliss, at least until Eve sat down on my recliner and ruined my happy place.

  “Can you please just ask her already so she stops bugging me? Like I’m supposed to know what’s taking you so long!” I kept my eyes closed, hoping she would go away if I ignored her. It had been really nice lying here in a vegetative state, not thinking about my troubles.

  “Amen,” agreed Monica from somewhere nearby. I maintained my silence until Eve made a disgusted sound and got up to sit next to Monica. I cleared my mind and went back to soaking up the sun.

  That contented feeling lasted about five minutes, until Becky sat on the lounge and nudged me with a bottle of sunscreen. “I’m starting to fry, can you get my back? I don’t care what the label says about 24-hour protection; if I don’t put this stuff on every couple of hours I turn into a tomato.”

  I opened my eyes, blinking up at her a couple of times to try to ward off the brightness. Becky handed over the lotion and lay on a shady lounge near where Monica, Eve, and Richard were hanging out.

  The look Monica gave me indicated that she didn’t think Becky needed a second coat, either. I wasn’t complaining, though I did feel a bit awkward when Mr. Bailey wandered by a few minutes later as I rubbed lotion on his daughter’s back.

  I felt even more awkward when he grabbed my shoulder and said, “So, what do you think?”

  He couldn’t possibly be asking me about his daughter. The empty plate of food at my feet caught my eye, and it hit me. “Oh, it was great! Way better than the stuff we got from the place in town. I’m stuffed.”

  “Good man! If you’re going to be in this family, you had better eat barbeque. God help you if you’re one of them duck-scrubbing, tree-hugging vegetarians. Rebecca told me y’all were from California, and I have to say I got a little worried there for a minute. You hunt?”

  Okay, so Becky had obviously told him that she and I were, well, maybe not together, but at least something. I doubted he thought I was ever going to be part of the family, as he put it. I think this was his way of telling his daughter that if this was one of her attempts to rile him up, it wasn’t going to work.

  “Um, never tried it. I fish, though. My dad and I used to go deep-sea fishing a lot back home.”

  “We got ourselves a stock pond. It’s not exactly deep-sea fishing, but you should come over sometime. We’ll catch ourselves something and grill it up. And if you ever want to hunt, I got a deer lease out at the Collins place. I can always use the company. Becky won’t go with me anymore.”

  “You hunt?” I asked Becky. I had stopped with the lotion; it was just too weird.

  “Used to, yeah.”

  “She was a grade-A bow hunter. Then she started getting all empathetic with the critters. I tell you, if God wanted us to just eat plants, He’d have made them taste like meat.” He shook his head. “What about cars?”

  “Cars?”

  “You know, the things we got lying all over the roads. Not the ’dillos. The other ones, with the wheels. You like them?”

  “Yeah, I’ve been saving up for something for a year now. I’ve always wanted a ’Vette, but I think an old Cobalt is all I’ll be able to afford.”

  “’Vette, huh? I’m a Ford man myself.”

  “Fords are okay, I guess. I mean, Becky’s Mustang is nice.”

  “But you’d prefer a Camaro?”

  “Well….” I didn’t want to lie.

  “Hey!” said Becky, twisting around to glare at me. I just shrugged.

  “I tell you what. When the time comes to get your car, you come see me. We’ll check out what we have on the lot. I’ll give you a good deal on something, even if it is a Chevy.” He grinned and shook his head. “Well, I better get going and check on the missus. She’s getting dessert ready. Now don’t miss a spot, son. She inherited my skin, burns like a gasoline-soaked rag.”

  “My dad’s the same way. He’s says it’s because he’s Irish.”

  “Oh yeah? You don’t look Irish.”

  “I know. Mom says I must have inherited some recessive genes. The postman must have gotten the same ones, ’cause we look a lot alike. Anyway, my grandparents were born there and moved here after they were married. My dad was born here in the States.”

  He laughed. “Well, all right! Second generation is good enough for me. If the hair didn’t give it away, we’re Irish ourselves; a few generations back, too, of course. We’ll have to have your folks over for dinner sometime. You kids take care now.” And with that, Mr. Bailey went in search of dessert.

  “I like your dad.”

  Monica and Eve snorted in unison.

  “He likes you, too,” said Becky, picking up the bottle of lotion and tapping me with it until I took it.

  “He just met me.”

  “I’ve been filling him in. Plus you passed all his usual questions.”

  “I thought I failed the car one.”

  “Are you kidding? You chose American. If you had said you liked some pretentious European model he would have kicked you to the curb. If you’d said you wanted some type of Ford, he would have known you were su
cking up. Chevy was perfect. He likes honesty.”

  I finished with the lotion and Becky sat up, only to lean back into me. I was so shocked I almost fell over.

  “So, like, I’m going swimming,” Monica dropped a piece of used gum into an empty can of Diet Coke, then popped a fresh piece in her mouth.

  “Right behind you,” said my sister.

  Richard had been silently finishing his third helping of Mr. Bailey’s barbeque and was probably about to help himself to one more, until Monica and Eve hoisted him up and over to the pool.

  I crossed my arms across Becky’s front. Even though we were in the shade I could feel the heat radiating off of her back. She was definitely sunburned.

  “Tell me about being adopted.” Becky was nothing if not direct.

  “What do you want to know?” I wondered if the mailman comment brought this on.

  “Everything. Do you know who your parents are?’

  “Most of the time. Then they go do something crazy like move to Texas and, well, suddenly I’m not so sure anymore.”

  She laughed and elbowed me. “Not what I meant.”

  “Yeah, all right. I know some of their vital statistics. How old they were, their names; but that’s about it.”

  “How old were you?”

  “I was six months old when my parents adopted me. They adopted Eve a year later. Different birth parents.”

  “You ever want to go find them?”

  I shrugged. “Dunno, maybe one day. Does this hurt?” I flicked the inch-long chain in her belly button.

  “When I got it, a little. Right now, no.”

  “You have any more I don’t know about?”

  She turned in my arms to look back at me. Our faces were only inches apart. “Maybe. What do you think? Am I hiding any?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s not something I think about more than once or twice a day.”

  “Guess you’ll just have to wait and find out.” She turned back around. “Does it ever bother you, that you’re adopted?”

 

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