It’s Hank, toward the back of the pack.
My crazy, drumming, chicken-loving father has joined the naked bike ride too. Flowers cover his midsection.
And he wears nothing else.
Nothing else but sunglasses.
Why? Why? Why?
I feel nauseous. I dash to the amphitheater, hide behind a concrete wall, and crouch in a little ball to squeeze all my screams inside.
Now it all makes sense to me. The other day, one of Coral’s biking friends mentioned Cathedral Park was the beginning of the ride. Her friend meant the naked bike ride. He even said there would be food carts here.
And then there was that line in the news feed from the food cart site. The line that said: The sun will depart, and the ride will start.
The food cart hunt ends at sundown right when the naked bike ride begins. Only with my rotten luck would these two events be linked. It makes me wonder if I’m forever handcuffed to Hank and Coral’s weirdness.
Finally, I come out from behind the amphitheater wall.
Joey, Willa, and Brie all attempt to conceal their grins. It’s easy for them to snicker. None of their parents is here, nearly naked.
“You know.” Joey is the first to speak. “The World Naked Bike Ride is really a protest.”
“Protesting clothes?” Willa can’t contain her laughter anymore. It fills her up so much she doubles over, grabbing her belly.
“No,” Joey says. “They’re protesting the dependence on oil, and they’re also standing up for cyclist safety.”
I’m not shocked that the wise-beyond-his-years Joey Marino would know that. It’s certainly reason enough for Coral to join in.
“I don’t care if it’s a protest. It’s just . . . weird. It’s embarrassing.” I turn away from my friends and start marching down the path through Cathedral Park.
“Get over yourself!”
I hear Joey’s words and spin back around to face them all. “What?” I throw out my hands.
For once, Joey’s face isn’t gray. I can almost see blood surging to his usually translucent cheeks. “I said, get over yourself.” He’s glaring at me. “So what if your parents ride their bikes naked. It doesn’t matter, Mac. We’re here to turn in clues and win the prize money, so just get over yourself.”
Joey’s words sound like glass shattering. They cut and sting when they hit me.
Willa and Brie don’t budge. They look at Joey, then at me, then back at Joey, waiting for the next glass to break.
Hank and Coral have always been nagging bugs in the computer program of my life. I’m always having to troubleshoot with them. I’m always rewriting the code.
I wipe at my eyes and glance down the path, but the naked bikers are out of our view.
Joey Marino continues to glare at me.
I smooth my hair and my shirt, take a deep breath, and pull my thoughts together. Joey’s right. I do need to get over myself. I need to remember why we’re all here.
“Let’s go find Peppers,” I say quietly.
The four of us follow the park trail, moving in the same direction the naked bikers had ridden. The trail winds through the park, past the river and a boat dock, and then toward a large parking lot.
“Look!” Brie points. “There’re three food carts.”
Immediately, I notice the green trailer in the middle.
Peppers!
Our finish line.
“And there’re the naked bikers.” Willa gives me a worried look.
It’s true. The riders are gathered on the grass. Their bicycles are flopped on the ground or leaning against nearby trees. Hank, Coral, and Coho are among them. But there’s also a lot of clothed people in a crowd near the three carts.
Joey says exactly what’s on my mind. “Are they all here to turn in clues?”
“Maybe they’re all just here for the bike ride,” Willa suggests. “Maybe they just haven’t . . . you know, dressed down yet.”
From my bag, I pull out our ten clues, and fan them out. My hands quiver. We are so close. “We have to work our way to the front of that crowd, so we can turn these in. The sun is going down. It’s almost time.” I hand the clues to Joey. “I think you should be the one to do it.”
“No,” Joey says, “we’ll all go together.”
We step toward Peppers when I hear a voice.
“MacKenna?”
It’s Coral.
Couldn’t she ignore me? Just this once? Like I’m trying to ignore her.
Coral stands, wraps a shawl around her waist (thankfully), and jogs toward us. Her dreads and the flowered lei hide her chest.
“Honey! What a surprise. Hello, Willa, Brie, and Joey too.” Coral beams at all of us. “Why are you here?” Then she whispers, “You’re all a little overdressed.”
Willa giggles.
“The food carts,” Joey answers promptly, and I nod in agreement.
“Of course, your research!”
Brie sends me an eyebrow-raising look.
“Coral!” Someone from the group hollers at her.
“Better go! Have fun, all of you. We’ll talk later, honey. Oh, did you see Hank?”
“Um, yeah,” I answer.
Unfortunately.
Coral flits back to the naked riders and taps Hank and Coho on their backs. They both wave at us.
Willa waves back. “This is so hilarious. They should do a naked dance together.”
“No. They shouldn’t,” I say. “Let’s just do what we came here for, okay?”
Joey’s holding our ten clues that equal two thousand dollars.
But right then, I notice two familiar figures slowly moving toward the mob of clothed people at the order window of Peppers. It’s Shaggy and Scarface, both wearing only boxer shorts.
“You guys, come on!” I say. “I know those two are in the hunt. We’ve got to squeeze our way to the front, whatever it takes.”
I run, weaving through bicycles toward Peppers, avoiding eye contact with the naked bikers. Willa and Brie are right behind me, but Joey isn’t. I spin around to figure out where he is. He’s still standing where we were before, where we spoke with Coral. He’s looking the other direction, toward the bicycle path and the St. Johns Bridge.
“Why’s he just standing there?” Brie asks.
“Joey! Come on! Bring the clues,” I yell.
And then he emits a piercing shriek. It’s just one word, “Isabel!”
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The Light People
“Joey!”
I race to where he’s dropped our winning clues on the grass. “Joey, stop!” He’s now running toward the bridge.
“What’s he doing?” Brie’s right on my tail.
I scoop up all the clues and shove them at Brie. “Take these to Peppers. I’ll go after Joey.”
“Where’s he going? What’s going on, Mac?” Willa shouts, catching up with me and Brie.
“Just turn in the clues. Go! Hurry!”
I begin running after Joey, but he’s way ahead. Then I have an idea. I double back to the naked gathering, toward Coral.
“I need my bike.”
I give Coral no opportunity to answer. I just lift my bike off the grass, kick my leg over the seat, and struggle to pedal it through the grass. I wobble my way between the naked bikers and toward the paved path. I pedal hard and fast, feeling my thigh and calf muscles burning, trying not to lose sight of Joey.
The path curves near a small grove of trees. Just beyond that is the grassy clearing where we all met earlier, with the St. Johns Bridge towering in full view.
Joey’s sprinting onto the grass, toward the bridge, and now I see another person in the distance.
It’s Isabel.
“Joey!” I yell.
But he doesn’t turn around. He just keeps running toward his mother until he’s about ten feet away from her. I finally catch up to him and clench my bike brakes, stopping at his side.
We both stare at Isabel, our chests heaving.
I grab Joey’s arm. I’m still straddled over my bike.
“It’s okay, MacKenna. I’ve seen her like this before.”
But something makes me uneasy.
Isabel looks like a wild animal lost in the middle of a city.
“Isabel?” Joey moves forward.
I hold his arm tighter. “Maybe you shouldn’t talk to her.”
“Light people are here. I see you. Light people are here. I see you.” Isabel continues to ramble.
She’s looking toward me and Joey, but not really at us. Her hair is Einstein wild, sticking up in all directions. Her wool coat has mud on the sleeves.
“Joey.” I’m whispering now. My hands tremble. “I think we should back off and leave her alone.”
But Joey ignores me. “Isabel?”
He takes another step forward. “Do you recognize me?”
“Light people! Light people!” Isabel yells now. She points her bony finger, but not at us.
Joey glances over his shoulder. “The bike riders?” Then he looks back at his mother. “Are those the light people?” He takes another step forward.
I no longer have hold of his arm.
“Isabel, I’m Joey. I bring you books and food. Do you recognize me?”
Isabel lowers her voice. Her words become incoherent, like a foreign tongue.
“Joey, please. Don’t go closer. Let’s get help.” A warning light blinks in my head: ERROR. ERROR. ERROR.
But he still ignores me. He takes yet another step. “I’m not a light person, Isabel. I won’t hurt you.” He’s close to her now, maybe just five feet away.
The lights from the bridge above us give Isabel an eerie halo. Her mutterings grow louder again. Her arms begin to flap up and down like wings. Her eyes glow as she stares at Joey.
“Isabel?” he says again.
And then Isabel screams, a long shrill note, her mouth wide, every tooth exposed.
I shoot forward on the bicycle and grab Joey’s arm again, yanking hard to move him back, away from Isabel, but he’s a rock. I can’t budge him.
“HELP!” I holler, louder than I’ve ever yelled in my life. “HELP US!”
Isabel’s scream doesn’t stop. It drowns out my yells. It pierces my eardrums.
She reaches into her coat pocket, slowly at first. I watch every movement.
Then her hand jerks out of her pocket. Is she holding something? She swings her arm right at Joey.
Instinct, or maybe fear, takes over my muscles. I stomp on my bike pedal, charging at Isabel. The front tire slams into her knees, and she collapses to the grass in a heap, but her screams don’t end.
I lose control of my bike and fall over too, right next to Isabel. She kicks her legs at me and the bike.
I hear another scream.
“No, Mac!”
What have I done?
I push on my bike frame, wiggling out from underneath it, and jump to my feet.
Isabel’s still on the grass, still screaming, her arms and legs wildly thrashing.
“Move away! Move away!” Four police officers rush toward us. They motion us to move back. Two of them stand close to Isabel, leaning over her. She keeps screaming.
Joey lunges toward the cops. “Don’t hurt her. Please, don’t hurt her.”
A third officer holds Joey’s shoulders and moves him back. Joey twists his arms, but the officer is incredibly calm. “You should stay back. We won’t hurt her. We promise.” He holds Joey tighter.
The fourth cop puts his hand on my shoulder. “Kid, are you all right? What do you think you were doing?”
I can only shake my head to answer because I can’t find my voice. I step toward Joey and the cop who holds him. I take Joey’s hand, and he stops shaking and twisting. The cop releases him, and he flings his arms around my neck and sobs. Every broken piece of Joey’s life comes out with his tears and they land on my shoulders.
I put my arms on his back, and I hang on tight, trying to somehow glue him back together.
The cops next to Isabel are reaching out to her, talking to her. She’s no longer twisting or jerking or screaming, but her mutterings begin again—light people coming, I see them . . . It goes on and on.
“Mac!”
I lift my head and see a crowd of people approaching. Joey still clings to me. I don’t let go either.
Hank, Coral, and Coho are part of the crowd, and I don’t even think about their public nakedness, because their expressions hold nothing but concern, the kind of concern any parent would have for their kid when that kid might be in danger.
Willa and Brie appear next. They rush to the front of the crowd. Brie hangs on to one of Willa’s arms. Tears stream down her cheeks. Willa looks like she’s been punched in the gut, which is how I feel too, but I keep hold of Joey, who’s still trembling.
“Son,” one of the cops asks, “do you know this woman?”
I feel Joey’s head move, but he doesn’t speak. So, I answer for him. “She’s his mother. Her name is Isabel.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The Food Cart Hunt Results
The two police officers near Isabel help her to her feet.
Joey finally lifts his head from my shoulder and lets go of me. “Wait.” He wipes away tears. “What are you going to do with her?”
“We’ll help her find a place to stay tonight.”
“Not the Manor,” Joey says. “She doesn’t like the Manor. Take her somewhere in Southeast, please?”
“Light people! Light people!” Isabel yells. Her body shakes. The two cops hang on to her arms tightly. Her fingers flare out. The cops turn Isabel away so she’s facing the bridge, and not the crowd of bikers. It calms her a little.
“Wait!” Joey walks toward the policemen. I follow him. “Will you contact me? Will you let me know where you take her?”
“Son, is there another adult we can contact?”
Joey nods and gives them Aggie’s number. One of them jots it down into a small spiral notebook. Everyone watches them walk away with Isabel. who still rambles on and on. We keep watching until they’re completely out of view.
Most of the people wander back toward the parking lot, but Hank and Coral stay. I realize that someone has given them clothes. Hank wears a pair of shorts, and Coral has on a jacket that looks like Brie’s.
I’m grateful for their sudden decency.
I pick my bicycle up off the grass and roll it forward to Coral.
She drops the bike on the ground and pulls me in for a hug. “MacKenna, are you okay?”
“Yes.”
“You’re filled with surprises tonight,” Hank adds.
“Yeah,” I say. “You too.”
They both chuckle.
“How about you, sweetheart?” Coral peers at Joey. “Are you okay? What can we do to help you and your mom?”
Joey shakes his head. “Thank you. There’s really nothing to do right now.”
“Well,” Hank says, “you kids want to join the bike ride?”
I have no idea what my face looks like right then, but Hank bursts out laughing. He slaps my back. “I’m kidding, Mac!”
Coral picks up my bicycle. “We’re not doing the ride either. We’ll take the bus home with you.” She hugs each of us once more.
“Willa’s mom is going to drive us home,” I say, and Willa nods in agreement.
Hank and Coral look at us all carefully, probably sizing up the energy surrounding us, determining whether we are balanced and turbulence-free.
“All right,” Hank says. “We’ll go tell Coho what’s going on, and then we’ll ride home and meet you there.” He’s looking right at me.
“Thanks,” I say.
I stand there quietly with my three friends, watching my parents walk away. The ligh
ts of the St. Johns Bridge cast glowing beams on the grass.
Willa breaks our silence. “This night is intense!”
“No joke,” Brie adds. “What were you two thinking?” She gapes at Joey and me.
“I was thinking of my mom,” Joey answers. He drops onto the grass.
And I was thinking of Joey, but I don’t say that out loud. I sit down next to him.
“So, now you both know my secret too. My mom is homeless, and, yes, I follow her, and I keep tabs on her, and I worry about her every day.”
“What was she talking about, Joey? Light people?” Brie asks.
He shrugs. “It had to be the naked riders, but I don’t get it. Somehow, she knew they would be here. Maybe they reminded her of something. She was seeing and thinking things that weren’t there.”
“Can she get better?” Brie says.
“Maybe, but not unless she gets help and meds and off the streets.” His voice shakes.
Brie and Willa lower themselves to the grass. I know they’re really seeing Joey now, not the phantom Joey, but the Joey who’s real, who’s now my friend. The four of us form a circle, knees touching. We sit in silence, the bridge lights illuminating our faces just enough.
“Hey!” Joey says. “The clues? What happened to them?”
“Well,” Willa says, “we have good news and then less-than-good news.”
Joey and I lean forward.
“Brie sprinted back to Peppers and slid right in front of the crowd, even ahead of those two guys in their boxers,” Willa says.
“It wasn’t that hard. When you screamed, Mac, everyone was distracted,” Brie adds.
“Yeah, well, your foot speed was impressive,” Willa says.
“Then what happened?” I urge them to tell us the rest.
“We ordered four tamales and gave them the ten clues,” Willa continues. “They looked them all over, and then they had a third guy look at them.”
“What did they tell you?” Joey asks.
Brie smiles. “They said, ‘Congratulations. You are the first to turn in ten clues in the Portland Food Cart Association Treasure Hunt!’”
“YES!” I throw my fists into the air. Willa and Brie high-five me. “We did it! We actually won!”
I leap up. I feel like dancing like Willa always does, a victory dance. “This is really happening!”
Worse Than Weird Page 15
