by Jeff Strand
“Know what the Boy Scouts tried to sell me? Tickets to the Scout-O-Rama. Why the hell would I ever want to go to the Scout-O-Rama? Did you bastards mess with my satellite dish? Because I haven’t been able to get Showtime on Demand to work all evening.”
Kelley and Adam turned and walked off the man’s front porch. He slammed the door shut. Without a word, we walked to the next house.
Kelley rang the doorbell. Inside the house, a recorded voice that sounded a lot like Cookie Monster said, “Doorbell! Doorbell!” It was, I have to admit, a pretty cool doorbell ringtone.
The front door opened, revealing an old man with Albert Einstein hair. “May I help you?” he asked.
“Could we borrow your phone?” Kelley asked. She gestured to me. “A car ran over my boyfriend’s foot.”
“So much blood,” said the old man, nodding approvingly. “So much blood.”
“Your phone?”
“Tell me, young lady, are you frightened? Right now?”
“A little.”
“Because you look like the perfect candidates for my experiment...” He smiled. “...in fear.”
CHAPTER 17
“I think we’ll try another house,” said Kelley.
“All right. I hope your boyfriend’s foot gets better.”
We walked to the next house. Kelley rang the doorbell. The guy who answered was unshaven and wore a base-ball cap.
“Sorry to disturb you, but could we borrow your phone?” Kelley asked. “My boyfriend was carving lumber, and the saw blade popped loose and cut off his toes.”
“Ooooohhhhh no, no, no,” said the guy. “I’m not falling for that one! Go steal somebody else’s phone.”
“We’re not trying to steal anything.”
“Uh-huh. Yeah, right. Like anybody really loses toes.”
“It’s true,” I said, lifting my injured foot.
“Uh-huh. Karo syrup and red food coloring. I may have been born in a barn, but I wasn’t born in a barn last week.”
“No, really, I’ll take off the cloth if you want to see the red spongy part.”
“Find another sucker. Not of blood.. .you know what I mean.” He shut the door. We walked to the next house.
“I should do the talking this time,” Adam suggested.
“So, what, you’re saying that the mad scientist would have acted normal if you’d been the one talking?” Kelley asked. “Maybe this neighborhood hates women.”
“Are you kidding me?”
“I deserve a chance.”
I waved my hand. “I’m the one who’s going to bleed out, so I get to decide. Kelley should talk, one hundred percent.”
“Why not let me redeem myself?”
“We’ll be on the lookout for another way for you to redeem yourself.”
“Fine. Whatever. I just hope we find a phone before gangrene sets in.”
“Gangrene takes.” I trailed off, because I suddenly realized that I didn’t have the slightest idea how long gangrene took to set in. Had we covered gangrene in biology class? What if my foot was already infected? What if I peeled off the cloth and was greeted by the sight of a blackened, shriveled, rotten-apple- looking appendage that was only recognizable as my foot because it was stuck to the end of my leg?
“It takes about forty-eight hours,” said Kelley.
“Oh well, I’m glad you studied up on gangrene for tonight,” said Adam. “How do we know she’s right? Is she a doctor? Is she even a medical student? Why would she even want to know something like that?”
“Excuse me for taking an interest in the world around me and retaining information!” said Kelley. “If you think Tyler has some genetically enhanced super-strain of gangrene, fine, you do the talking.”
“No, no, I still vote for you talking,” I said. “I trust you on the gangrene. Completely. Just ring the doorbell.”
Kelley rang the doorbell. A smiling blonde woman who looked about my mom’s age answered. She wore an apron over her light blue dress and an oven mitt.
“Well, hello,” she said. She called inside the house. “Glenn! Donna! Franklin! We have guests!”
“Could we borrow your phone?” Kelley asked. “My boyfriend—” “Of course you can borrow our phone. What a silly thing to ask. What kind of Basers would we be otherwise?”
“Basers?”
“Yes, Basers,” said the woman, offering no further explanation. “Oh, where are my manners? I keep losing those silly things, don’t I? My name is Mildred. You already know Glenn, Donna, and Franklin.”
Three people stepped into the foyer behind her. Glenn (identifiable because he wore a pullover sweater with “Glenn” on the front) had slicked back hair and a wide smile with perfect teeth. I assume he was Mildred’s husband, because he put his arm around her waist and pulled her close while she beamed.
Donna and Franklin didn’t wear their names on their clothes, but it wasn’t difficult to tell who was who. They were both teenagers, probably even sixteen-year-olds like us, and it kind of looked like they were twins. They were good-looking and had much better complexions than any of the three of us. Their teeth were also perfect, although not too perfect...I mean, I wasn’t ready to scream, “Their teeth! They’re unnaturally white!” or anything like that. They simply had nice teeth.
They were both wearing pajamas, which I guess wasn’t too weird, even though it was only about eight o’clock. I mean, if you’re not planning to go anywhere, you might as well be comfy.
Mildred’s smile faltered. “It is polite to introduce yourself when meeting strangers for the first time,” she said.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Kelley. “I’m Kelley, with two e’s.” “Where are the e’s?” Glenn asked.
“One before the two l’s, one after the two l’s.”
Glenn seemed to go over that in his mind. “Ah. Nontraditional spelling, I see.”
“It’s not that uncommon, but yeah, a lot of people get it wrong.” “I’m Adam,” said Adam.
“Adam, eh?” asked Glenn. “I guess we’d better make sure to keep you away from our apples!”
Mildred, Glenn, Donna, and Franklin all laughed.
“But that doesn’t mean he can’t have some of my delicious homemade apple pie!” said Mildred.
“Oh no, we wouldn’t deny anybody that!” said Glenn. “That would be far too cruel!”
“And I’m Tyler,” I said, giving them a friendly wave. “I’m the one who’s hurt.”
“Oh, you poor dear,” said Mildred, stepping out ofher doorway and looking down at my foot. “That is a grotesque injury, isn’t it? Well, come on inside, and we’ll get you all disinfected.”
“I don’t want to get blood all over your floor,” I said. “If we could borrow your phone, we’ll just wait outside.”
I noticed that Donna was giving Adam the kind of look that a guy like Adam didn’t get from many (also defined as “any”) women. This really surprised me, considering the vast chasm between their levels of physical attractiveness. I’m not trying to be superficial, but c’mon, there are societal norms.
“Now don’t you worry about our floor,” Mildred told me. “Everybody has blood, so I’d be a pretty darn big hypocrite if I judged you for yours. It’s not like you’re going to go around rubbing your foot against our antique furniture, right?”
“No, that wasn’t my plan.”
“Well, then it’s settled. Come on in, all three of you, and get out of that humidity,” said Mildred, beckoning for us to walk into their house. “Franklin, get our guest a towel.”
Franklin was giving Kelley the kind of look that she got on a regular basis. Not quite a look that said, Give me the word and I’ll bash your boyfriend over the head with a shovel and then we can slap our tongues together for six or seven hours, but at least one that said, Yeah, baby, yeah. You know you want some of this. Sashay that cute body over here and come get yourself a big ol’ slice of pure Franklin.
I did not approve of this look.
This wh
ole family kind of creeped me out, but as long as they had a phone, I wasn’t going to run away screaming quite yet. Adam and Kelley walked inside, and by the time I joined them, Franklin had already fetched me a nice, fluffy purple towel.
Mildred crouched down and tied it around my foot. “Don’t you worry about staining our towels. We’ve got more. You just bleed as much as you’d like.”
“Thank you.”
“We’ll get your wound cleaned out in just a tiny short minute.
In the meantime, you three youngsters sit down and relax. Everything will be fine.”
We sat down on the soft white couch in their spacious living room. The walls were decorated with religious items, and when I say “decorated,” I mean that if you took a digital photograph, there would not be one square pixel of their wall that wasn’t covered with something religious.
But it wasn’t only one religion. Christianity, Judaism, Hinduism, and countless others were represented, including a bunch that I didn’t even recognize. It was like the ultimate religious smorgasbord. There was also a framed picture of “Weird Al” Yankovic, who apparently had a religious cult in his honor.
“I like your decor,” I said.
“Does it make you feel comfy?” Mildred asked.
“Yes,” I said, even though it made me feel the exact opposite. “Are you interested in religious studies?”
“Oh no. Like I said, we’re Basers.”
“Basers?”
“Only dead people know what awaits them in the afterlife. Could be heaven or hell, could be reincarnation, could be maggots. If it’s maggots, there’s really not much we can do, but if it’s anything else, intelligent people take advantage of the wide variety of theories and cover their bases. Basers.”
I tried to send powerful brain waves in Kelley’s direction: Please don’t start a religious debate with this family.. .please don’t start a religious debate with this family.. .please don’t start a religious debate with this family.
“Sounds like you’re being very thorough,” said Kelley.
“As thorough as we can be,” said Glenn. “It would be a huge bummer to put in all of this time and effort only to find out that the winner was some religion practiced by a tribe of six in Southern Australia.”
“A mega-mega bummer,” Kelley agreed. “Can we use your phone?”
“Who would you like to call?” asked Mildred.
“A friend to pick us up,” I said.
Mildred continued to smile as she shook her head. “Oh no, darling. I don’t think so.”
“Can Adam come in my room with me and watch TV?” asked Donna.
Adam’s eyes widened. He looked suddenly excited, because he didn’t get to watch TV with hot girls very often, and also worried, because we all knew that Donna probably wanted to feast upon his beating heart.
Mildred folded her arms in front of her chest. “Now, Donna, what have we discussed about being presumptuous?”
“He’s been looking at me the whole time,” said Donna with a pout.
“No, I haven’t,” Adam insisted, stammering a bit. “I’ve been looking at my friend’s bloody foot.”
“Liar!” said Donna. “You can’t even see the blood through the towel.”
“Donna! You mind your manners. You’re not too old for the wrench.”
“Fine,” said Donna. “I didn’t want him anyway. He’s dog-ugly.”
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately,” said Glenn, “but this attitude is going to stop in two shakes of a lamb’s tail. You apologize to this young man. He is not dog-ugly by any stretch of the imagination. No, he’s never going to be on the cover of fashion magazines, but how many people are? He carries off the gawky look better than most people your age. Say you’re sorry.”
I honestly thought she was going to resort to being a six- year-old and say something like “I’m sorry you’re dog-ugly.” But she didn’t. Her apology was simple (“Sorry”) and seemed sincere.
“It’s okay,” said Adam.
“So can I take him to my room?”
“Not tonight, dear,” said Mildred.
“Oh, I don’t see that there’s anything wrong with them watching some TV,” said Glenn. “She did apologize.”
Donna hurried over to the couch, grabbed Adam’s hand, and pulled him to his feet. “C’mon, let’s go!” she said.
“I, uh, shouldn’t.” said Adam.
“Adam!” said Kelley.
“I can’t,” said Adam. “I need to stay with my friend. He’s hurt.”
“He’ll be fine,” Donna assured him. “Mom found a squirrel once whose tail had been pulled off, and she cauterized the hole right up.”
Adam gave another halfhearted protest, and then Donna quickly led him out of the living room and down a hallway. We heard a door open and then close. Kelley just sat there, her jaw hanging open.
“If Donna gets Adam, then I get Kelley,” said Franklin.
“Objection!” I said.
Yeah. That’s what I said. “Objection.” I’m embarrassed to
even have to type that. Don’t you wish you had somebody like me to defend your honor?
Glenn chuckled. “Whoa! Did you see him bristle? It was like we had a porcupine in the house.” He patted me on the shoulder. “Don’t you worry. My boy was only kidding.”
“If he touches me, I’m going to claw his eyes out,” said Kelley. “Just throwing that out there.”
“That was uncalled for,” said Mildred. “You’re a guest in our home, and you’ll abide by our rules. In this household, we do not threaten to claw each other’s eyes out. If you want to do that, go someplace else where that kind of rudeness is tolerated.”
“Actually, I’d very much like to go someplace else,” said Kelley, standing up. “Adam! Get back out here!”
“Sit back down, young lady,” said Mildred.
WHAT DO YOU THiNK MILDRED SAiD NEXT?
A. "Ha ha! Just kidding, you little rapscallions! here's a free cell phone and a DiY book on how to undo voodoo curses.”
B. "i wish i had a free monkey for every time somebody ate a crouton.”
C. "i'm sorry, but you're not going anywhere.”
D. None of the above.
The answer is C.
CHAPTER 18
“You can’t keep us here against our will,” I said. Because in a hostage situation, the best thing you can do is inform your captors that they aren’t allowed to be doing this.
“We didn’t ask for you to disturb us,” said Mildred. “We were enjoying a peaceful evening of family time when you came pounding on our door.”
Alert readers will remember that we didn’t pound on the door. We rang the doorbell. Astute readers will guess that I didn’t correct her. I mean, why behave like an Internet troll?
Adam had not yet responded to Kelley’s demand that he get back out here. This was a source of concern.
“All we wanted was to borrow your phone,” I said. “I was even worried about bleeding in your living room.”
The logical way to handle this situation seemed to be to rush for the front door and get the hell out of this house of madness before we could be killed and served as stew. But what about Adam? Was it too late for him? Was his body already in the form of small cubes of meat?
“Just so you know,” I said, “all three of us are diseased.” (I considered being specific, but the only disease I could think of at that very moment was mad cow, so I decided that the vague approach would be better.) “If you eat us, you’ll catch it too.”
Mildred laughed. “Why does everybody always assume that we’re cannibals?” Then her face fell. “Is it my butt? Does it look big in this dress? Do I look like I’ve been eating too much?”
“No, your butt looks, uh, charming,” I said.
My heart was pounding. I’d had a bunch of guns pointed at me earlier, but that was somehow much less frightening than this creepy, smiley family. I looked at Kelley to see if she was thinking about the same RUN
!!! plan that I was.
Adam let out a scream.
It wasn’t the good kind of scream. It wasn’t a scream that sent the message This is awesome! or That really tickles, but I love it! This was a scream of terror.
That said, I don’t want to give the impression that it was a terrified scream that echoed through my brain and would haunt my dreams until the end of my days. There wasn’t soul-deep terror in that scream. He just sounded scared. He definitely didn’t sound like he was having any fun.
“I love that noise,” said Glenn. “Worth every penny of the soundproofing we had to install to avoid alerting the neighbors.”
Kelley and I jumped to our feet. My plan was to shove Glenn out of the way, race down the hallway, throw open the door, let Kelley beat up Donna, drag Adam to safety, then let Kelley beat up Mildred while I beat up Franklin. Then we’d try another house.
Much of this plan was designed with the idea that Mildred would not pull out a gun from underneath her apron, so I was very disappointed when she did.
It was only a little gun, but still...
“Sit down,” she said.
Adam screamed again.
“I never get tired of that sound,” said Glenn.
Mildred probably wouldn’t have time to shoot both of us before we rushed her, but a 50 percent survival rate simply wasn’t acceptable.
“Our parents will be looking for us,” said Kelley.
“I know that, you silly duck,” said Mildred. “They usually do.”
“They know we’re here.”
“Yes, I’m sure that before you left the house, you told your mom and dad that you were headed out to go knock on strangers’ doors, asking to use their phone.”
“They at least know the general area.”
“I spy, with my little eye, somebody who is telling a lie. Can anybody guess who that is?”
Nobody answered the question, but we all knew it was Kelley. A couple of small patches of blood had started to seep through the towel.
“I’m gonna start bleeding on your floor,” I said, hoping this would provide enough distraction for our daring escape.
“I’m pointing a gun at you,” said Mildred. “Believe me, brain matter is a lot harder to get out of the upholstery than blood.”
