To Curious Heights

by Sean McGowan

Chapter 6:

  The Frying Pan

  As hard as Harold twisted and pulled on the knob, it was no use. In fact, what started as a small wooden door was now made of steel and covered in a dozen locks and bolts, which held it securely shut. The doorbell was broken and his knocks went unanswered. He now turned to plan B and began to ascend the stairway which wrapped around the cylindrical house.

  When he reached the top after climbing about five stories, Harold peered through a dim circular window. Inside, he could see Sally sitting around a table with her family and opening her birthday presents. Just as Sally was about to unwrap the kite that Harold had made for her, her father stood up and walked over to the window. Harold couldn’t tell whether he was noticed or not as Mr. Livingstone drew the curtains over the window and blocked his view.

  Harold quickly turned to seek another way in and found Wayne, Winston, Doug, and Samson standing behind him. Winston held up a bottle of water and splashed it in Harold’s face.

  Harold awoke in the grass beside the cubic stones to find Winston holding an empty water bottle over him. Wayne, Doug, and Samson stood nearby, while Harold's backpack sat to the side.

  “Oh good, that worked,” said Winston. “My next idea wouldn’t have been pretty.”

  “The sun’s up,” Harold observed. “How long have I been here?”

  “You were out all night,” said Wayne.

  “Yeah, we thought you were dead!” said Samson.

  Doug looked at Samson for a moment, then looked back at Harold. “None of us thought you were dead.”

  “Yeah, you were breathing, but you wouldn’t respond to us, so we let you rest for a while,” said Wayne.

  Harold rubbed the back of his head, which was quite sore. “Wait, I was being chased by wolves. What happened to...” He noticed three dead wolves lying about the ground nearby.

  “Nothing a few rocks couldn’t take care of,” said Wayne, rotating his arm.

  Harold sat up, feeling a bit stunned. “Gee, thanks, buddy.”

  Winston pointed sternly at Harold. “You totally bailed on us!”

  “What?” Harold looked back and forth between his friends and the dead wolves. “I’m sorry, I...”

  Winston waved his hand dismissively. “I’m just joshing, duuuuuuude.”

  Wayne pointed behind Harold. “In other news, I think we’ve found our target.”

  Harold turned and looked down the long slope of the mountain to see that they were just above I90, with a big rest stop not far off. “Good deal.”

  As the boys began to make their way down the hill, the horned owl swooped down behind them and began to pick at one of the wolf carcasses.

  After about thirty minutes, Harold and friends made it to the bottom of the mountain and began to walk along the highway towards the rest stop, which sat a half-mile away.

  “Wait, they’re having a retreat at the Paradise Gate Summer Festival?” asked Wayne. “The Sages are playing there!”

  Harold nodded. “It’s true, it’s true.”

  “I guess I can’t blame you for almost joining that cult, then,” said Wayne.

  Harold shrugged. “Well that really had nothing to do with it.”

  “Doug, don’t you have a condo at Paradise Gate?” asked Wayne.

  “My parents do, yeah.” Doug nodded.

  Wayne shook his head in confusion. “Why in the world aren’t you there right now?”

  “Because I got locked in a closet when the bus left from camp,” said Doug. “And because that band sucks.”

  Soon, they arrived at the rest stop, which was called “Refillz”. It had many gas pumps and a massive building with a food court and several gift shops inside. Many travelers currently sought respite here.

  “At long last!” cried Winston. “I think I see a food court. I hope they aren’t just serving stupid breakfast food right now.”

  “How are we gonna pay for food?” asked Wayne.

  Winston put his finger on his chin and wondered. “Do you still have your wallet, Doug?”

  Doug squinted. “I do...”

  As they climbed a small hill onto the parking lot, Harold saw a police officer getting gas in the distance. “Hey, you guys go in ahead of me. I’m going to explain our situation to that officer and see if he can help at all.”

  Winston nodded. “Have fun with that.”

  Harold ran to the officer while the others walked up to the large glass door that led into the food court. On the wall to the side, Wayne spotted a poster for the Synth Sages’ festival appearance. It showed a picture of the three band members, who wore what appeared to be space-age military uniforms. Written on the poster were the words, “Paradise gate End of Summer Spectacular, featuring The Synth Sages. Also featuring Magnus Rex and Bakon.”

  “Wow! There they are!” cried Wayne. The others stopped with him and observed the poster.

  Samson shuddered. “They give me the jibblies!”

  “Yeah, me too,” said Doug.

  “Oh come on,” said Wayne. “You like them, don’t you, Winston?”

  “They’re good inasmuch as they sound like video game music,” said Winston. “Hey, what’s this now?” He noticed a poster next to the one with the Synth Sages. It had a picture of Colonel Seward’s laptop and read, “This laptop belongs to Colonel Seward of the State Police. Currently suspected to be in the hands of a group of preteen boys. Huge monetary reward for anyone with leads.”

  “‘A group of preteen boys?!’” Doug rubbed his forehead. “Where did they get that from?”

  “One or more of the Bulls are probably friends with the Colonel’s son and stole it from his house,” said Wayne. “The police probably also have some knowledge of Lorne’s gang. That’s my best guess.”

  “Well it’s a shame that we also fit the bill,” said Doug. “There’s no way they wouldn’t think we were the ones who stole it.” He looked across the lot at Harold, who had just begun to speak with the police officer.

  “Sure son, I’d be happy to help,” said the officer. “Now what’s this problem of yours?”

  “Harold! Harold, wait!!!” Doug came sprinting across the lot. As soon as he was close enough, he grabbed Harold by the shoulders. “Harold, there you are!”

  Harold shook his head. “Doug, what are you...”

  “Is everything all right?” asked the officer.

  “Yes officer,” said Doug, “this is my brother. We got separated. Harold, I’m so glad I found you!” He spun Harold around and began to push him towards the food court. “Let’s get back to Mom and Dad! Goodbye, officer.”

  “Right.” The officer nodded quizzically. “Take care, boys.”

  Doug and Harold reached the door, with Doug’s hands still on Harold’s shoulders.

  “Doug, what the heck was that about?!” asked Harold.

  Doug jammed his finger on the poster with the laptop. “That’s what that was about.”

  Harold looked over the poster. “What in the world?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know,” said Doug, “but I think we should be slow to take risks just yet.”

  Harold nodded. “Yeah, alright. I guess I’ll just try to call home after we eat.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Doug opened the door and let Harold enter past him.

  They stepped into the sleek, colorful, and crowded court, which had several eateries along the far wall and several dozen tables along the glass walls on the entrance side. Gift shops and newsstands sat on the left and right ends. Flat screen TVs playing the news hung high on the walls while speakers on the ceiling played a catchy electronic pop song from a few decades back.

  Wayne, Winston and Samson stood at a magazine rack in a store to the left. Winston held a magazine while the other two looked over his shoulders. Harold and Doug approached.

  “I stopped him in time, guys. We’re safe for now,” said Doug.

  “Isn’t that lovely...” said Winston, with his face buried in the magazine.

  “So what’s the plan now,
Harold?” asked Wayne.

  “I figure we’ll eat, then I’ll call to see if somebody can pick us up,” said Harold. “We’ll just keep the ‘you know what’ to ourselves and drop it off when we get the chance.”

  Wayne nodded. “Yeah, good thinking.”

  Doug peered past Winston’s messy, strawberry blonde hair. “What are you looking at?”

  “It’s a preview for Count Nordrick’s Kingdom, the sequel to Count Nordrick’s Quest,” said Winston.

  “It looks truly staggering,” said Samson.

  “If you haven’t even finished the first one, what’s the point of ogling the sequel?” asked Doug.

  “I want it,” replied Winston. “That’s the point.”

  “Isn’t that, like, coveting?” asked Doug. “That’s a sin, you know.”

  “Yeah, well you know what else is a sin?” asked Winston.

  Doug raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

  “Being a butthead.”

  Harold turned and scanned all the food outlets in the building. “Okay gang, where are we eating?”

  The options included places called Chik-N, The Frying Pan, and Four Dudes, Burgers and Food.

  Doug scratched his head. “We don’t all have to eat at the same—“

  “I want Chinese!” yelled Wayne. “Which one’s Chinese?”

  “Probably The Frying Pan,” said Harold.

  Wayne started walking. “That works for me.” The others followed as he approached the end of the line at The Frying Pan. “I must admit I’m a little apprehensive,” he said. “I’ve never done anything like this on my own. It’s somewhat intimidating.”

  “There’s a first time for everything,” said Harold.

  Wayne nodded. “Right. How bad can I mess this up?” When it came his turn, he stepped up to order.

  “Hi, what would you like?” asked the man behind the counter.

  “Yeah, I’d like some food,” said Wayne.

  Harold leaned over. “Wayne, what kind of food do you want?”

  “Um...” Wayne looked at the woman ahead of him in line, who had a plate full of noodles and beef. He pointed at the plate. “That looks good.”

  The man quickly scooped the same thing onto a plate and gave it to Wayne on a tray. Wayne thanked the man and began to walk away.

  “Hey! You need to pay for that,” yelled the woman working the cash register.

  “Oh!...” Wayne walked up to the register and sat his tray down. He looked around and noticed the tip jar, which was full of cash. He stuck his hand in the jar and began to pull out some bills.

  “What are you doing?!” yelled the woman. “That’s the tip jar!”

  Wayne shifted his eyes left and right, then Winston ran over and grabbed his shoulder. “It’s all right, Wayne. We’ve got you covered.” Winston looked at the woman and pointed to Doug. “The black kid’s gonna pay for us.”

  “Wait, what?!” Doug stammered. “I can’t be the only one with money.”

  “Your parents are loaded,” said Winston. “Just put it on that credit card they gave you.”

  “Arigato gozaimasu!” said Samson as he received his food.

  “This isn’t what they had in mind,” said Doug.

  Winston shrugged. “When life throws you a lemon, you gotta make lemonade.”

  Doug shook his head. “Whatever, dude...”

  Once the boys had all gotten their food, Doug rang up their orders on his credit card. The five of them walked across the court and sat down at a table next to the glass window-wall facing the highway.

  Once all were situated, Winston bowed his head. “Thank you, Jesus.” He then lifted his head and proceeded to stuff his face.

  “You know,” said Wayne, “this is kind of neat. We’re out on our own like grownups!”

  “Oh yeah, this is the best thing that ever happened to us,” said Harold, dryly.

  “Well, it’s not ideal, but I think there’s something to appreciate,” said Wayne. “After that brush with the wolves, it’s not like it can get any worse.”

  Doug scooped some rice onto his fork. “We better enjoy this freedom while we can, since we’ll be back at school in two weeks.”

  “Yeah...” Wayne looked sullenly at his plate. “At least we’ll be together this year.”

  Harold sat up straight and scooted his chair closer to the table. “I don’t even know why we should be in school. We should probably be working. You know, doing something useful.”

  “Yeah, like stealing a bunch of crap and selling it for money,” said Winston.

  “I’m serious,” said Harold.

  “No, no. I hear ya.” Winston finished his last bite. Now that he was done, he pulled out his Gamebu and started playing. “They hold us to these very specific standards, which I don’t believe suit me. It leaves me feeling like I’m good for nothing.”

  “Imagine that...” muttered Doug.

  “I feel that way too,” said Wayne.

  Doug looked around at his peers. “Am I the only one here who does well in school?”

  “I do well,” said Samson, “but ever since they decided to push me forward two grades, I feel really out of place.”

  Winston stared at Samson. “Yeah, that decision’s always befuddled me.” He looked at the others. “Here’s an idea: why don’t we... not go back?”

  Harold swallowed his last bite, took a sip of his drink, and pushed his chair back. “No, no, no. We gotta get back. I’m gonna go call home right now.” In several seconds, he was out the door.

  “Who pooped in his shoe?” asked Winston.

  “Harold?...” Wayne thought of how best to answer. “He’s just, uh...”

  “It was probably one of those wolves,” said Samson.

  As soon as he was outside, Harold turned the corner and ran to the nearest payphone. He dropped a couple quarters in the slot and dialed his home phone number. He waited as it rang. “Come on, please pick up...”

  The voice of a boy that Harold didn’t recognize answered on the other end. “Yyyyello?”

  Harold paused. “Um... I think I have the wrong number.”

  “No, I don’t think you do. Is that you, Harold?”

  “Who the heck is this?!”

  “Just a friendly representative of The Order of the Bull.”

  Harold shuddered. “How did you get in my house?!”

  “I’m not in your house. We just hacked your phone line. You didn’t think we’d anticipate that you’d try to call home?”

  Harold looked around him and shook with rage.

  “But I’m glad you called,” said the bull, “because now we know you’re at the Refillz on I90. See you soon!”

  Harold slammed the phone on the hook and sprinted back inside.

  Wayne looked back and forth among his friends, with a huge grin on his face. “So then he says, ‘That’s not my octopus!’”

  Doug shook his head. “I don’t get it.”

  Suddenly, Harold ran up to the table and almost knocked it over as he screeched to a halt. “Guys, we have a problem!”

  “What’s wrong?” asked Wayne.

  Harold caught his breath. “I tried to call home and someone from Lorne’s gang intercepted my call. Now they know where we are and they’re on their way!”

  “Aw, nuts,” muttered Winston. “Guess we won’t be staying here.”

  Soon, the boys all stood at the edge of the highway and surveyed the surrounding area.

  “I don’t know, man,” said Doug. “Doesn’t look like there’s anywhere we can go that they won’t find us.”

  “No. Especially since they’re just over yonder,” said Samson, pointing towards Mount Okwaho. Magnus and his cohorts could be seen descending near the foot of the mountain a half-mile away.

  “I guess the fun’s over, guys,” said Harold.

  “Wait, maybe not.” Wayne pointed behind the others.

  The boys turned to look as an enormous tour bus pulled into the lot. A huge image of mountains covered i
ts side, along with the words “Paradise Gate Mountain Resort”. The bus stopped by a gas pump and a swarm of tourists spilled out the door.

  Harold looked nervously at Wayne. “You can’t be thinking of...”

  “It’s halfway home,” said Wayne. “That’s progress, at least.”

  “There will be hundreds of bulls there!” said Harold. “I’m not so sure that walking into the lion’s den is progress.”

  “We could stay in Doug’s condo!” Winston chimed in. He looked at Doug. “Do you have a key for it?”

  Doug sighed. “There’s a number lock on the garage.” He looked at Harold. “It’s up to you, man. You make the call.”

  Harold began tapping his foot madly. He looked back at Magnus and his two companions. They were now walking along the highway. “Why don’t we just give them the computer?” he asked.

  Wayne grimaced. “Harold, who do you think they’re gonna sell it to?”

  Harold turned towards the bus and waved his hand through the air. “Oh dang it, let’s go!” He led the others in a jog to the bus. When no one was looking, they yanked open the door to the luggage compartment on the bottom, dove inside, and closed the door behind them. In a few minutes, the passengers re-boarded and the bus took off for Paradise Gate.