Skeleton Tree

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Skeleton Tree Page 11

by Kim Ventrella


  “Yay! Is it made of real dinosaurs?” Miren jumped up and down. It was a good thing Stanly was carrying her tank, or she probably would have tipped it over again. Stanly started to answer, but Miren said, “Just kidding. What do you think I am, a dummy?”

  They were heading toward the exit when Stanly saw something odd out of the corner of his eye. One of the bodies in the Human Bodies Revealed exhibit didn’t have any skin or muscle left on its bones. It was the only one like that. Stanly was surprised he hadn’t noticed it before.

  “Hold on a minute, Mir-Bear.” He stopped to get a better look, and that was when the skull spun around and a black eye socket winked at him.

  “Princy, you came!”

  Miren rushed over to the skeleton and gave him a bone-crushing hug. It was all Stanly could do to keep up with her.

  “I just knew you would come,” Miren said. “We saw woolly elephants and dinos and a big mean shark the size of two sharks! Also, we’re going to eat real dinosaur ice cream, can you believe it? Just kidding, hey, where’s your hat?”

  The skeleton twirled in place and then dropped into a low bow. Miren clapped. Just then, a second school group, in red-and-black uniforms, pounded up the stairs. Stanly and Miren turned around, and when they looked back, the skeleton had gone.

  “Oh no, Princy! Those dodo brains scared him off.”

  Stanly searched the display, but he found no sign of Princy. Ugh, that name. There was no getting around it. He was going to have to start calling the skeleton by his vomit-inducing name.

  “Too bad, very sad.” Ms. Francine shrugged. “That was a nice surprise for you, little one, but I’m sure you’ll see him again when we get home. Now, we’d better go. We don’t want to keep this ice cream waiting.”

  Miren thought about it. Stanly could tell she was close to bursting into tears.

  “Ice cream with sprinkles and chocolate chip cookies on top?” Stanly added.

  Miren sighed. “Okay, I guess so.”

  Stanly laughed, but only on the outside. Inside, his brain was a ball of knots. Ms. Francine picked up Miren and her tank, and they headed back toward the stairs. Stanly took one last look at the exhibit before they left. For a second, he thought he saw one of the skulls on the “Humans through History” wall turn to him and smile.

  He should have been freaked out. He was freaked out, but in another way seeing Princy in the museum made him feel better. Like maybe death wasn’t all worms and nothingness. Maybe, sometimes, there was mystery and whimsy and dancing shadow puppets, too. The kind that needed both light and dark to be seen.

  “Come on, Stanly. Ice cream time.”

  “Wait up.” He hurried after Miren and Ms. Francine. “Last one to ice cream’s a rotten nobody!”

  On the way home, they got off the bus outside the two-story Walgreens where Mom worked.

  “A surprise for Momma,” Ms. Francine said.

  They bought white flowers at the newsstand, and Miren picked out a copy of Dog Fancy, Mom’s favorite. They found Mom restocking baby oil in aisle seven.

  “Look who it is!” Her cracked lips lifted into a smile. She kissed Miren’s forehead. “You seem like you’ve been having fun.”

  Miren told Mom all about the dinos and the muscly people and the chocolate chip gummy bear ice cream that had taken her forty-five minutes to eat.

  “I had a bite or two,” said Ms. Francine.

  “That sounds wonderful.”

  Mom walked them down the aisles and showed them the new specials. Ben and Jerry’s, two for five dollars. Stanly’s stomach grumbled. His ice cream had been even bigger than Miren’s, topped with brownie batter, icing, and mini Reese’s cups. He was beginning to regret eating the whole thing.

  “Stanly, can you show Miren the toy aisle? I need to talk to Ms. Francine,” Mom said, in a tone that made Stanly think he hadn’t been listening the first time she’d said it.

  “Okay, Mom.”

  “Look, Stanly. A Hula-Hoop and one of those whoopee things that sounds like a fart. I could really use one of those.”

  “For what?”

  “For school, obviously.”

  Stanly didn’t ask any more questions. He pushed Miren’s tank and listened to her talk about the toys. He also strained to hear what Mom and Ms. Francine were saying on the other side of the shelves.

  “I’m afraid that a big outing like this is too much excitement for her. The doctors said she needs her rest.”

  “She’s a little girl, dochka. Let her see the world. What do these doctors know about such things?”

  “I’m her mother, and I think I know what’s best for her. I just want her to get better.”

  “I know, little one, I know.”

  “Stanly, pay attention! Should I get the squishy ball or the doll with a horsey tail?”

  “It’s a ponytail, and I don’t think Mom’s going to get you anything. Not after you just had your birthday.”

  “Dumb birthday.” Miren stamped her foot and tossed the ball and the doll back on the shelf. “Ooh, coloring books!”

  Stanly put the toys back where they belonged and peeked over the top of the shelf to see if Mom and Ms. Francine were done talking. Mom was blowing her nose into a Kleenex. Ms. Francine patted her on the back, but Mom pulled away. Stanly couldn’t hear what they were saying anymore, but he did see something in the security mirror hanging just behind Mom’s head.

  Something white.

  Stanly whirled and saw a head slip behind the shelf on the other side. It was Princy—Stanly was sure of it. He raced to the next aisle and glimpsed a white heel vanish behind a display of orange soda. He ran after it, but when he got to the end, there was nothing.

  “Grandpa, look, a bone man!”

  Stanly followed the voice to the pharmacy counter. A boy in overalls pointed at the blood pressure chair. “See, Grandpa, bone man! Like at Halloween.”

  The granddad lifted up his glasses and squinted at the chair. “Sorry, kiddo, old peepers aren’t what they used to be.”

  “Brandon, look, a bone man! Bone man!”

  He flicked an older boy on the elbow. Brandon flung a tuft of purple hair out of his eyes and said, “That’s just a dummy, dummy.” He slipped headphones into his ears and started to bob his head to the music.

  “Bone man!” the little boy cried, and he flopped onto the floor, kicking and screaming. “Why won’t you listen to me!”

  Stanly gaped at Princy, and Princy gaped back. When the little boy wasn’t looking, Princy winked and then disappeared through a door marked MAINTENANCE CLOSET, AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY. Stanly ran after him. It was one thing for him to turn up in a museum, but why had he followed them here? He was just about to open the door when Mom came up behind him and grabbed his shoulder.

  “You were supposed to be watching Miren! She can’t pull the tank by herself, you know that. What if someone had taken her? What if she had fallen? God, Stanly, what were you thinking?”

  Mom’s fingernails dug into Stanly’s skin. He opened his mouth, but he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t understand why Mom was so mad.

  “I’m taking you home right now, all of you.” She shot a glance at Ms. Francine.

  “Is Stanly in trouble?” Miren said. “But Momma, we were just playing hide-and-seek. Right Stanly?”

  Stanly couldn’t believe his ears, but Mom wasn’t buying it. “Stanly should have known better.”

  “Stella, what are you doing? You were supposed to take over for me five minutes ago!” A thin man with greasy hair and a Walgreens vest came up behind Mom. “This isn’t a day care center. How many times do I have to tell you that? Now, either get to the counter and start ringing people up, or pack your stuff. Got it?”

  Mom’s lips drew into a tight line. “Got it.”

  Inside, Stanly’s stomach boiled. He’d never heard someone talk to his mom like that before. If Dad were still here, he probably would have punched the guy in the face.

  Mom waited for the greasy
man to walk out of earshot before she said to Ms. Francine, “You get them home right now. No more adventures. We’ll talk about next week when I get off work. But I can tell you right now, we may not need your services anymore.”

  “Mom!” Stanly said, but her expression shut him up fast.

  “As for you.” She dragged her hands over her forehead. “I’m too angry to talk to you right now.” She started to walk away. Her chest heaved and her cheeks burned red. “You know what? You’d better be asleep by the time I get home, because I don’t even want to see your face.”

  The words cut deep into Stanly’s chest.

  “What did I do?” Stanly said to Mom’s back. But it was too late; she was already gone.

  “She doesn’t mean it,” Ms. Francine said once they got outside, but Stanly wasn’t so sure. “She’s just worried about little sister. Worry makes people say funny things.”

  On the bus ride home, Stanly wished Dad was there more than ever. Mom had never yelled at him or Ms. Francine like that when Dad was around. Probably because she had so much less to worry about.

  Miren fell asleep with her head on Stanly’s shoulder. He stared out the window, ignoring Ms. Francine’s story about the goat and the chicken who had a fight, but then made up when it came time to trick the farmer. He knew it was supposed to make him feel better, but he wasn’t in the mood.

  One thought kept playing over and over in his head, like the repeating background in the video game Super Mushroom Smash. This whole thing was Princy’s fault. Stupid skeleton. If it hadn’t been for him, none of this would have happened. Maybe Jaxon had been right about Princy after all.

  Stanly went straight to his room when he got home and slammed the door. He didn’t come out when Ms. Francine called for dinner, or even later when she made peanut butter cookies from the tube.

  Instead, he put on his headphones and got online to play Ancient Aliens Attack! He’d just blasted seven Martian slugs in a row when a voice shouted in his ear.

  “Stanly! You’re not going to believe this, but the photo’s back!”

  Jaxon had logged on to Ancient Aliens Attack! and was talking to him through his headphones. “Hey, are you there? You’re back at the top of the ratings. You could really win this thing.”

  “Um, not exactly,” Stanly said, feeling the way he sometimes did right before he had to throw up.

  He told Jaxon everything, about finding the iPad in the yard, the shadow puppets, even how Princy had followed them to the museum and Walgreens. “What will the judges think when they see Princy juggling and running around the house?”

  “Ha! You’re calling him Princy now. I knew that would happen.” Jaxon’s voice crackled in Stanly’s ear. Mom had promised to get him a new pair of headphones for his birthday, but now he doubted she’d ever buy him anything again. “Stanly?”

  “Yeah?”

  White noise buzzed and popped on the other end. “I need to do more research. It’s just, I’ve never heard about something like this happening before. And I’ve read all one hundred forty-eight Darby Brothers’ mysteries.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the contest isn’t the only thing you should be worried about.”

  “I told you, he’s a wimp. He was so scared he was shaking.”

  “Still … ” Jaxon paused for so long, Stanly thought his headphones might have gone out completely. “Look, I’ll read up more on it tonight, and you can meet me in the library before first period. Do you think you can catch the early bus tomorrow?”

  “Definitely,” Stanly said. He wanted to get out of the house before Mom woke up anyway, and this would give him an excuse. “Oh, by the way, sorry about your iPad. It’s kind of a wreck.”

  “It’s no big deal. Mom says she’s going to buy me the new one that just came out anyway.”

  “Oh.”

  “Besides, we have bigger problems than an old iPad.” Over the buzzing sound, Stanly could almost hear Jaxon clicking his jaw back and forth the way he did when he got nervous. “Do you want to sleep over at my house tonight? I mean you and Miren and your mom? We have enough room.”

  “What? Why would we do that?” said Stanly. Jaxon didn’t answer. “Oh, because of him.”

  “Yeah. Him,” Jaxon said.

  “No, we’ll be fine. I told you, he’s a wimp.”

  “Just think about it, okay?”

  “Trust me. Besides, maybe it won’t be so bad having him around.”

  “Just promise you won’t do anything stupid,” said Jaxon.

  “Like what?”

  “Like trying to get Princy to sit still while a bunch of experts from National Geographic examine him.”

  “I’m not that crazy,” Stanly said, and he was almost sure he meant it.

  “Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow. And Stanly?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Be careful.”

  The headphones clicked as DarbyFan#1 logged off the game. Stanly had been so busy talking that an alien had exploded his eyeball with a laser gun and another had covered his moon fort in slime. He shut down his computer, flipped off the lights, and climbed into bed.

  He closed his eyes, expecting more dreams of dancing shadow zombies, but instead Princy’s hollowed-out skull turned to him and smiled. It wasn’t a scary smile, exactly, but Stanly still couldn’t fall asleep.

  He tried to count backward from one hundred, like Mom always told him. When that didn’t work, he pretended to count goats jumping over an imaginary fence, Ms. Francine’s idea. No luck. He kept picturing a white skeleton hand shooting up and catching the goats by the ankle.

  Three hours and eleven minutes later, according to his light-up Abominable Zombie alarm clock, Stanly heard voices whispering at the end of the hall. He sat up in bed, figuring Mom must finally be home from work. He pressed his ear to the crack in the door to try to hear what she was saying. Only Mom wasn’t the one talking—it was Miren. And the voice that answered her back was like none he had ever heard before.

  Sand scraping against old bones.

  Stanly turned his doorknob, ready to run down the hall and rescue Miren, but then he heard the garage door open. A few seconds later, Mom tapped into the kitchen, and the voices went quiet. She turned on the sink, and then the microwave clicked shut.

  Stanly listened to see if the voices would come back, but all he heard was the late-night talk show Mom was watching in the living room. He crawled back into bed, but this time he didn’t bother counting goats. No way he was falling asleep tonight.

  The next morning, Stanly caught the early bus. It was still dark out, but the bus was full of people in business suits heading into the city. Stanly got off a block from school and pushed through the drizzle and wind all the way up to the front doors.

  He found Jaxon hunched over a book in the back corner of the library. The book was about the same size as Jaxon, with a velvety red cover.

  “You’re not gonna like this,” Jaxon said, clutching the page he’d just been reading to his chest.

  “Show me,” Stanly said. He was tired and grumpy and not in the mood for games.

  Jaxon chewed the inside of his mouth. “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He turned the book around so Stanly could see a painting of a skeleton holding a stick with a crescent-shaped blade on the end. Strands of flesh hung from his bones, and he stood atop a pile of mangled bodies, all with their eyes closed.

  “That thing he’s holding is called a scythe,” Jaxon said. “He uses it to gather the souls of the dead. Look familiar?”

  Stanly nodded, but he wasn’t really listening. He was too busy staring at the velvety cloak draped over the skeleton’s head.

  “Who is he?” Stanly said, working hard to keep his voice from shaking.

  “The Grim Reaper.” Jaxon looked around, like he was worried someone might be spying on them. For all Stanly knew, someone, or something, probably was. “His job is to bring the dead to the other side. They say he only appears when someone i
s—” The last part caught in Jaxon’s throat.

  “Just say it,” Stanly said, thinking of Miren lying in that hospital bed.

  “When someone is dying.”

  Jaxon checked out the big book, and every time he ran into Stanly he told him more facts about the Grim Reaper. But it didn’t matter; Stanly had already heard all he needed to know. Princy, or whatever his real name was, was up to no good. Even if he did smile and dance and act like a wimp. When Stanly got home, he was going to find Princy and make sure he left Miren alone. Scythe or no scythe.

  Stanly hurried straight home after school. He’d called Ms. Francine at lunch, so he knew Mom wouldn’t be back until late. Good, because when Stanly got his hands on Princy, things weren’t going to be pretty.

  He found the front door locked. He rang the doorbell, but nobody answered, so he used his key to get in. The lawn mower hummed in the backyard. Ms. Francine was the only old lady he’d ever met who loved mowing lawns.

  “Mir-Bear,” he called. “Come on out. I need to talk to you about something.”

  Miren didn’t answer, but he could hear her coughing. He ran to her bedroom. Miren lay curled up on the bed, hands wrapped around her throat. She gasped and wheezed for air. Stanly pressed the tubes into her nose, but they were already tight. The little dial on the oxygen tank was spinning, but Miren still couldn’t breathe.

  “Ms. Francine!” Stanly screamed.

  That was when Stanly saw the white skull peeking over the edge of Miren’s bed. Two shadowy eye sockets blazed into his brain, just like the ones in the library book. Stanly lunged. His fingers grazed a knobby vertebra, but Princy was too fast.

  He disappeared under Miren’s bed. Stanly grabbed for him, found something hard, and tugged. It was Stripy Pony. Stanly ducked down and stared at the space under the bed. He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was empty, except for some dirty socks and the set of pink gardening tools.

  Miren’s coughing grew louder and then stopped. Her body went still.

 

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