***
When we got home, Angie waited at the door, arms akimbo. “Travis Lane Bishop, just what did you think you were doing?” She glared down at him. “Why’d you throw paper towels at Chris?”
“Cuz I couldn’t find a rock,” said Travis angrily. “Chris is bein’ a jerk! He won’t come out of the basement and he yells at us for no reason if we even go near the stairs.”
Melissa and I both nodded, but Angie ignored us.
“You can go to your room, young man! You’re grounded for the next five days. And don’t even think about seeing any of your friends next weekend!”
“I can’t go to my room,” said Travis. “Jon won’t let me in.”
“Then you can stay in the living room. You’ve been sleeping in there anyway. And no TV!”
“How come Jon gets to do what he wants? He ate my rabbit and kicked me out of my room and all you did was ground him.”
“Jon is almost an adult. We have to deal with him differently. Besides, he never hit Chris in the face with a roll of paper towels.”
Chris came up behind her with a look on his face like he wanted to tear Travis’ head off. Travis gulped and moved behind Melissa and me like we were bodyguards, or something. We were scared, too, but we stood our ground. Angie was shocked by our reaction, but she was more shocked by Chris.
“You will stay out of the basement!” said Chris, pointing a threatening finger at Travis. “The basement is mine! I am making something very important. I must work hard and fast!” He turned and poked Angie hard in the shoulder with his finger. “Keep them out!”
21
PAIN
MARIA
Only one pain is worse than being dumped by the person in the world you most truly love, and that’s the pain of being trapped in pre-breakup purgatory. Maria Sanchez knew it well. She was caught in it now and she felt like a bug in a toilet where the swirling tide was gradually pulling her down. Whatever she’d said to make Jon unhappy, whatever she’d done to utterly displease him, why couldn’t he just tell her? Why’d he insist on this roundabout way of torturing her soul when it could all be finished in a moment? Why? Knowing the answer, she sadly shook her head. Because he was a boy, that was why.
Maria knew that boys and girls handled breakups differently for different reasons. When a girl grew tired of a relationship, her decision was usually quick and unexpected. It’s over. Girls didn’t mess around with who felt guilty or whose fault it was that things didn’t work out. They simply ended it and moved on, often leaving the former boyfriend hurt, dazed and confused. He never saw it coming.
But a boy who wants to break up will try other tactics in order to shift the blame away from himself. He’ll treat his girlfriend as thoughtlessly as possible, even to the point of dishing out cruelty. He’ll ignore her, stop calling her altogether, laugh at her, and sometimes even abuse her, all because he hopes she’ll become fed up enough to dump him first. That’s the plan, anyway. Maria would have laughed if she hadn’t been hurting. The silly plan rarely worked, though, because girls can be very forgiving creatures when it comes to love, and they rarely take the bait.
But for some reason boys just didn’t understand that basic concept. In the end after all his prolonged shenanigans, the boy still had to deliver one of the cruelest lines in the history of the world: I just want to be friends. Ironically, the boy is next bombarded by the very same anger and tears he’d hoped to avoid. No, boys just didn’t get it.
Maria thought about all of this as she stuffed books into her backpack on Monday afternoon. She hated what was happening to her since Jon had changed, but most of all she hated what had happened to them. Their relationship had been deeply emotional and heartfelt and she knew the final pain of departure would be nearly unbearable. Right now there was no departure, only the deadened pain of pre-breakup purgatory. She was sick of it.
Why did Jon have to be so silently heartless? Why didn’t he just tell her, face to face, that it was over between them? Her emotions were caught in the grip of numbness, which made everything inside her ache, almost as if she had the flu. One day she’d been the light of his life, the next he’d forgotten her name. He’d never called her—not even once—since he’d been rescued from Pandora’s Cave. Now he didn’t speak to her in school unless she spoke to him first. He clearly didn’t feel the same way about her anymore. In fact, he didn’t seem to feel anything at all.
Angie had phoned her after the cave incident and told her what the doctor had said about Jon’s possible amnesia. He had forgotten so much, the names of friends and family, how to drive his car, his class schedule, his lover. Maria couldn’t take it. She didn’t know how to deal with memory loss.
Her eyes stung. Tears fell on her backpack. She looked around, hoping nobody noticed. Luckily, she was alone in the hallway, so she wiped her eyes and slammed the locker shut. She slipped the pack over her shoulders and headed for the main entrance.
Thanksgiving was next week. Would Jon want to eat with her family again, like last year? If he did, it’d be an awkward meal. Her parents were angry with Jon for a couple of reasons.
First of all, he hadn’t been to work for weeks and he never said anything about quitting. Missing work was bad enough, but the big reason they were mad was because of the way he was treating their daughter. Maria was daddy’s little girl and she knew it was eating away at her father to watch her suffer like this. Maybe it would be best if Jon skipped Thanksgiving this year. Especially if all he planned to do was break up with her.
Break up. The thought hit her in the gut like a sucker punch. She balked and nearly stumbled into the door. Her emotions rose inside her like too much steam in a pipe, building pressure that couldn’t be held back. She was going to cry again and it was going to be a big one. She had to find her car before anyone noticed. She pushed open the door and went outside.
That’s when she found Jon, sitting by himself on one of the benches in front of the school. Her heart nearly broke at the sight of him. She stiffened up. Don’t let him see your pain. Somehow she recouped enough of her dwindling self-control to try to ignore him, but it didn’t last long. A girl who’s in love can’t do that. A girl with her heart and soul hanging in limbo needs to know the truth.
Maria took a seat on the opposite end of the same bench. “Hi, Jon,” she said in a small voice.
Jon looked up as if from a trance. “Hello, Maria,” he said, detached. “I am waiting for Angie to take me home. I forgot how to drive.”
Trying her best to disguise the fact she was on the verge of tears, Maria decided to cut to the chase. “Yes, I heard. Why haven’t you called me, Jon? Are you mad at me?”
“I am not mad,” said Jon without emotion. “I am becoming the greatest magician in the world, Maria. You will see. I will be the greatest.”
“I hope you do become the greatest magician,” she said honestly. “But can’t you still love me? What happened? Ever since you went into that stupid cave you’ve been different.”
“I am different. I am the greatest magician in the world.”
By now several other students had gathered to watch them. Maria could be hot-tempered at times and she knew they were hoping she’d make a scene. They wanted to see a good fight, if it happened. Sorry to disappoint, but she wasn’t in a fighting mood.
Maria glared at Jon through bleary eyes, finally shaking her head in defeat. “It’s like you’re mentally ill, or something. You don’t even seem like yourself. You never do anything nice anymore, not like you used to.”
“Like what?”
“You gave me roses once, remember? That was so sweet and random, it wasn’t even my birthday or Valentine’s Day. Now I can’t even get you to smile.”
Jon smiled, but it didn’t seem genuine. All at once he waved his hands around like some kind of Ninja wannabe. Maria didn’t understand what he was doing. Was he trying to hit her? She leaned away from him, but he stopped flailing and stretched his arms out perfectly still, palms down. A se
cond later he held a huge bouquet of red roses in his right hand. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt and when the roses actually appeared, his hands hadn’t moved at all. Maria gawked. So did everyone around them. Jon handed her the roses.
“These are for you,” he said gallantly.
Maria took the flowers and smelled them. “Jon! How’d you do that?” Her eyes became bright and hopeful again. Did she dare believe he could still love her? “They’re beautiful!” She hugged him and he hugged her back. But when she pressed against him and tried to get a kiss, he pushed her away.
“What?” she asked. “Why won’t you kiss me?”
“I have much work to do. I must work hard and fast.” That had definitely been the wrong thing to say. Everyone in school was sick of hearing it, especially Maria. She looked at him, totally confused by his indifference. She was torn between feelings of hope that came with the flowers and a renewed fear of rejection.
At that moment Brandon came out the door. He smiled when he saw them together. “Hey, nice flowers, Maria. Did our man here give ‘em to you?”
Maria nodded. “He did magic and they just appeared.”
“Magic?” Brandon looked at Jon. “You’ve been working on magic for weeks, man, but you never show me any tricks. What can you do besides flowers? How about bringing back my camcorder? That cost me two grand.”
Jon looked at him. “Does anybody have a deck of cards?”
“A card trick?” asked Brandon. “I’d rather see my camcorder.”
A boy nearby who had seen the flower trick rummaged through his backpack and pulled out some cards. “Here you go,” said the kid. “They’re a little used.”
Jon took the cards and began shuffling them in remarkable ways. No matter how he shuffled, he never set them on any surface. Everything was done in the air. Maria gaped at his skill.
While he worked the cards, Jon said, “I’ll need a pen.”
Brandon supplied the pen when Jon stopped shuffling. “Pick a card and show it to somebody. But not to me.” Brandon took a card and discreetly showed it to Maria and the other boy. It was the ace of hearts. “Now write your name on it.”
“I saw this trick on TV,” said another girl who was watching. By now over a dozen people were crowded around them as Brandon wrote his name on the card. Jon told him to put it back in the deck, and he did. Jon shuffled again.
“What’s going to happen?”
“What’s he doing?”
“He’s going to make the card rise from the pile,” said the girl.
Instead, Jon threw the cards on the ground. They landed face up, in a nearly perfect straight line. “Find your card.”
While Brandon and the others searched, Maria looked on, confused at how Jon’s display of love for her with the flowers had so easily been set aside by a card trick.
“It’s not here.” Brandon held up the deck. “So I guess you’ve got it?”
Jon slowly smiled. He pointed his chin at one of the parents who had just driven up in a minivan. “Check his shirt pocket.”
Maria got involved in spite of her torn emotions. “No way.”
Brandon and the others took off running toward the minivan. The kids surrounded the vehicle and the man behind the wheel was clearly nervous when he lowered the glass. “Yes?”
“I know this sounds kind of strange,” said Brandon, “but can you look in your shirt pocket and see if something’s there? It’s a magic trick.”
The man smiled uncomfortably. “Oh, of course. But I can tell you now there’s nothing in my pocket.” When he unzipped his jacket and reached into his shirt pocket, his expression changed. “What’s this?” He removed a playing card and gave it to Brandon. Maria looked over his shoulder and saw the card. It was the ace of hearts with Brandon’s name written under the center heart in his own handwriting. Brandon showed it to the man first, then to the kids.
“Oh my God!”
“That’s incredible!”
“How’d he do that?”
Brandon looked at Jon and grinned big. “Man, you’re ready for the big time! What else can you do?”
“Give me some room.”
Everyone cleared a big circle around him. The man in the car got out to watch. Maria had to find a place where she could see him through the gathering crowd. Several more cars stopped as dozens of students and adults were there by now. Jon closed his eyes and tilted his head back slightly. He dropped his hands to his sides and started to wiggle his fingers rapidly, like he was playing an invisible piano. Then he rose off the ground. Everyone gasped. Jon rose nearly five feet in the air and held it there.
Maria looked up and saw nothing but clear, blue sky above them. She shook her head in disbelief. “That’s not possible.”
“He’s levitating!” said the man who’d had the card in his pocket.
Jon slowly dropped down. He staggered when he touched ground, like he was disoriented. Everyone applauded, but some of the people got nervous and left. Others patted him on the back and congratulated him for the amazing feat.
Brandon laughed. He clapped Jon on the shoulder. “Is he hot, or what? Have you ever seen anyone do that?”
“There was a guy on TV once, but he only went like a foot above the ground.”
Jon declared that he was tired and needed to go home. Maria noticed his foster mother, Angie McCormick, staring at him in shock. She must have seen him levitating, too. Maria went up to him and gave him the flowers back.
“Jon, here,” she said, completely spooked by what she’d just witnessed. “I don’t think we should see each other anymore. There’s something unholy about what you just did. It’s not right.”
Jon looked at her a moment, then held the flowers in front of him. In a flash, his hand was empty. The flowers vanished the same way they’d appeared.
“I agree, Maria,” he said without expression. “I have much work to do. I must work hard and fast.”
22
ATTACK OF THE BULLY
KELLY
I never saw what popped me in the cheek while I ran full stride down the soccer field. Spinning through the air, I didn’t see the ground, either—until I landed face-first. The force slammed my nose into the dirt and knocked the wind out of me. I lay there and gasped for air.
Whoa! Shooting stars! They were dancing just above the ground in front of me!
I’d never seen stars in the afternoon before, and certainly not close up. After a few seconds, though, the stars went away. When I got my breath back I noticed a sharp pain in the center of my face. My nose was bleeding.
I slowly pushed up to my hands and knees and blinked back the tears. Had I been hit by a car? I looked around. No, I was on the soccer field behind the school. What had I been doing? My memory gradually returned. We’d been playing soccer in P.E. class. I didn’t consider myself to be much of an athlete, but up to this moment I’d been having a really good game. I’d played defense and stopped several attacks by the other team, including one when Michael Mall dribbled straight at me and I stole the ball from him. I remembered the startled look on his face as I passed it off to a teammate. Not many kids in gym class could do that to Michael. I would have smiled thinking about it, but my nose stung too much.
The last thing I remembered was running to intercept another pass to Michael. That’s when everything went blank. I knew I’d gotten hit and now I was on the ground with a bloody nose. But again, what had happened?
I never saw the foot that smashed into my ribs and lifted me off the ground.
“Get up and fight!” A menacing figure stood over me in the bright sunlight.
The kick hurt, but not as bad as my nose. I rolled away from the attacker and sat on my knees. Dazed as I was, I had no problem recognizing the voice. Donnivee Fox.
That explained a lot. Donnivee must have blind-sided me with a punch to the head when I was running. I normally kept better track of her, but I’d been enjoying the game too much. The thought made me angry. Wasn’t that the reason w
e were outside playing? Weren’t we supposed to have fun and enjoy sports in P.E. class? Why should I even have to worry about a bully?
My first instinct was to find Coach Lewis. I quickly scanned the area and spotted him way across the field by the woods, discreetly talking on his cell phone. He did that every day, though it was against the rules. I had scanned his thoughts once, a few weeks ago, and found out he was calling his girlfriend. No use trying to get his attention. He wouldn’t hear me, even if I screamed.
I tried to stand, but my legs were watery. I couldn’t get up. Was it because I was afraid? Or was I still woozy from the landing? I wasn’t certain, so I stayed on the ground and tried diplomacy.
“I’m not gonna fight you, Donnivee. You win, okay?”
“Fine. I win. I’m still gonna beat the crap out of you.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s Tuesday.” Donnivee’s response made no sense. But when she leaned down and punched me in the side of the face, things got clearer. I flopped back to the ground, my cheek stinging. If Donnivee needed an excuse to kick somebody’s butt, then any excuse would do. In that respect, ‘because it’s Tuesday’ made perfect sense.
I couldn’t believe what was happening. How long was this going to continue? Why didn’t somebody do something? When I sat up again, the class had formed a ring around us to watch, though nobody was outwardly encouraging the fight to go on. I mentally checked out each of the other kids to see what they were thinking. To my surprise, most of them wanted to see me rise up invincibly and clobber Donnivee. That gave me a little confidence, which I desperately needed right now. But the thoughts of Manson Stanfield, Donnivee’s only known friend, stood out louder and clearer than the rest.
Beat her! thought Manson, as if willing her bully friend to act. Beat her bad!
Two other boys in the group thought the same thing, only they weren’t feeling personal about it. They wanted to see Donnivee beat up somebody for the entertainment value. That infuriated me. How dare them want to watch a person inflict pain on another human being, just for laughs. I made a mental note to deal with those boys some day. Right now I had more serious issues.
I took a deep breath and tried to force some strength into my legs. I got to my feet, keeping a careful eye on Donnivee. But Donnivee had already planned her next move. She ran forward and swung a knockout punch at my face. This time I got a glimpse of it coming. I managed to duck. The blow glanced off my shoulder. Donnivee stumbled forward. But losing her balance didn’t stop her from swinging. She began to throw punches like a wild woman.
I had no hope of keeping up with the blows or defending myself. One struck me in the head, another in the cheek. Donnivee was a fighting machine with one focus now: beat me to a pulp! I did the only thing I could think of. I turned and ran away.
The move gained me some time. Donnivee threw a grand slam right cross at my head just as I took off. She missed entirely and the force of the swing sent her tumbling to the ground. When she got up, she had dirt all over the side of her face. The other kids laughed at her. They apparently thought I’d made a clever defensive move. Yeah, right. I was running for my life. Laughter only made Donnivee more determined to pound me. I heard her thoughts loud and clear.
I’m gonna rip your head off!
I considered making a break for Coach Lewis, but Donnivee would probably outrun me. If that happened, my face would be turned into hamburger before he ever noticed anything was going on. Abruptly, a two-part plan popped into my head. Why hadn’t I thought of it sooner? I stopped and faced my assailant. It was time to initiate Plan A.
“All right!” I screamed. “Come on! Let’s do it!”
Donnivee stopped her maniac charge and became more cautious. She still kept moving forward.
Thank, God! I thought, catching my breath. Plan A had slowed Donnivee’s attack. But Plan B was more involved and potentially dangerous. If Plan B didn’t work, not only would Donnivee beat the snot out of me, but everyone in the class would know I was telepathic. It was a huge gamble, but what choice did I have? I needed an army and I needed it now.
I blasted mental orders to the kids around me. Allen! Block her! Krista! Get in front of her! Michael! Stop her! Paul! Help Michael!
Without knowing why, each of the kids reacted to my psychic commands. Allen jumped in front of Donnivee. Krista hurried up beside him and did the same thing. A moment later Michael and Montel also blocked the way. I was so shocked I nearly lost focus. I’d never telepathically ordered people around before, not really. Sure, I’d sent in suggestions to influence their thinking, like in chess matches, but a direct order? I’d always been too afraid they’d figure out what I was doing. If I had tried to get them to help by using my voice, they would have laughed at me and done nothing. Something about being inside their heads, though, made it different.
Steven! Becca! Antoinette! Stop her!
In the span of thirty seconds I had commanded nearly every kid in the class to help fend off Donnivee. None of the kids would have done anything on his/her own, but they seemed helpless to resist my orders for assistance. I became more calm and reassured. As long as I kept a tight grip on the thoughts of my army, Donnivee would have a tough time getting to me.
Donnivee tried to push past the crowd, but nobody gave way easily. “Let me get her!” she cried. She shoved at Zack Coleman. When he stumbled aside, Michael stepped into his place. He was much bigger and stronger than Donnivee, so she didn’t try to go through him. But when she changed direction to go around him, Zack was blocking her again. I decided Donnivee wasn’t going to give up against this sort of passive resistance. I changed tactics.
Donnivee, you’re surrounded. We’re all gonna beat you up!
The class encircled Donnivee. She was surprised, suddenly unsure of herself, but still full of bravado. “Come on! I can take every one of you!” She danced in place, fists ready for action. As the circle grew tighter, her eyes revealed the fear she really felt. The group wasn’t afraid of her at all and they outnumbered her twenty to one. She looked over at me. I faced her just outside the circle, glaring. She knew I was doing this, but couldn’t grasp how.
I concentrated on controlling the others. Donnivee began to shake her head in desperation. Tears formed in her eyes like she was afraid for her life. She quickly wiped them away, but for the first time she fully understood the situation. This new girl could beat her. I took in every doubtful thought as the circle closed to within arm’s length of Donnivee. All at once the bully fell to her knees and began to sob.
“No!” she cried. “Don’t hurt me anymore!”
The words had a chilling effect on me. Don’t hurt me anymore? Nobody had hurt her at all, yet, so why would she say such a thing? Donnivee was confused. Maybe she’d had enough.
I released the others and told them to go have fun playing soccer. In a flash the kids all broke away and went after the ball again, including the two bloodthirsty boys who’d hoped to see a fight. The entire time Donnivee was surrounded, those boys had stood to one side watching. They never responded to my commands. At that point things became clear to me. Though my ability to control other people was the main reason they got involved, they only acted because they wanted to help to begin with. I hadn’t entirely controlled them after all. Instead, I’d only directed them.
Donnivee knelt on the ground, helpless and pitiful. I looked hatefully at the girl who had given me a bloody nose and some aching ribs. I wanted to kick her teeth in and stomp her face into bloody mush. At that point, I probably could have. But those haunting words came back to me. Don’t hurt me anymore! I was angry at myself for having a heart.
“Don’t you ever, ever try that again,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “If you do, I’ll take it to the next level.”
Donnivee glared up at me helplessly. I scanned the beaten girl’s thoughts and asked the question a lot of people wanted to know. Why are you so mean?
Only one thing came back out of Donnivee’s head. She be
at me. And she never even threw a punch! I hate her so much!
All this time Manson Stanfield had looked on in total disbelief. I detected her nearby and went hard and fast into the cruel girl’s mind.
Why is Donnivee like that? What made her so mean?
Manson blinked in confusion. It never occurred to her to wonder why the question had been asked or where it came from. But she felt obliged to answer.
“She can’t help it!” said Manson. “It’s not her fault. Her father beats her all the time!” She covered her mouth in shock as she met Donnivee’s cold, hurt gaze. At that point Manson was certain that her friend might now be her enemy. I listened to it all as Donnivee climbed to her feet.
“How could you, Manson?” said Donnivee. “You said you’d never tell!” Donnivee burst into tears and sprinted for the locker room.
“I don’t know.” Manson chased after her. “I thought you needed help!”
I looked angrily across the field at Coach Lewis. I’d had enough of his slackness and sent him a mental order. Coach Lewis, do your job!
In one fluid motion, Lewis put away the cell phone and looked up in time to see Manson chasing Donnivee. He ran over to me and saw the blood on my shirt and face.
“What’s going on here?” asked Lewis. “Did Donnivee hit you?”
“No,” I lied. “We ran into each other chasing the ball. It was an accident.”
“Oh. Okay.” Lewis looked like he didn’t believe a word of it, but with me standing there and Donnivee on the run, what else could have happened?
Off and on for the rest of the day I considered what Manson had said about Donnivee’s home life. If her father really did beat her, then maybe it wasn’t her fault she was so mean. For the first time ever, I felt sorry for the class bully.
But something else was on my mind. I had controlled almost the entire class, made them do what I wanted! The feeling was incredible. My confidence soared like a hawk in the wind. I was superior. Nobody could ever hurt me again because I was in charge. And, yet, I hardly knew what I was doing. What if I got really good at controlling people? If that happened, I’d be untouchable! I nodded. Power had a sweetness I’d never experienced before. And I liked the flavor.
23
MAJIK JUICE
KELLY
Travis got home from school that day, surprised to see Granny and me waving to him from beside the minivan.
“Over here,” said Granny. “Give me your backpack.”
Run! I said inside his head. Without thinking, Travis ran to us and gave his pack over to Granny.
Why’d you do that? he asked mentally, knowing that I’d made him run. He gave me a puzzled look.
Because I can.
He didn’t like my reply, but he didn’t worry about it. He could tell something big was happening or Granny would be not out here like this. “What’s goin’ on?”
She explained. “Chris has a real important meeting. He wants Angie and both of you along for the ride. It’s my job to get you into the van. In you go, now.”
Travis followed me into the captain’s chairs, while I asked the questions that were on his mind, too.
“Who’s he meeting? What’s it all about?”
“Bottling company execs,” said Granny. “He wants to sell his product.”
I had trouble with that. Chris sell something? The old Chris was too shy and the new Chris was too mean. Either way his product had better be good. But I knew it wasn’t. It was the stuff he made in the basement with roaches and hair in it. I made a face just thinking about it. Chris didn’t have a ghost of a chance selling something made of roaches and hair.
Chris burst out onto the front porch. He wore a dark blue suit and a white shirt with a blue patterned necktie. His thin hair was slicked back and his shoes were so polished they might have been brand new. I had never seen him look so sharp. Chris carried a leather briefcase and a cardboard mailing tube over to the minivan.
“Angie, move it!” He shouted like he was angry, but that wasn’t unusual these days. He stood by the van and tapped his foot impatiently.
Travis and I looked at each other. “Maybe we should stay home,” I suggested, my voice a little shaky.
“Yeah,” said Travis. “I don’t know nothin’ about drinks, but I do know I don’t wanna be with him.”
“You don’t know anything about drinks,” I said, trying to teach him better English. He rolled his eyes at me. He must have been practicing eye rolls lately because it was irritating.
Angie hurried out of the house searching through her purse along the way. “I’m coming, darling! Wait. The keys!” She turned and went back inside.
“Don’t you dare make me late!” Chris’ tone was menacing. It really ticked me off to hear him talk to Angie so mean like that.
Granny didn’t like it either. “He’s acting like he’s chairman of the board. Maybe I’ll have a quick chat with him before he goes.” Granny walked up to Chris and stepped toe to toe, like she was picking a fight.
“I gotta see this!” Travis pressed his face against the window to get a good view. I was right beside him.
“You’re rather demanding all of a sudden,” said Granny, clenching her jaw.
She’d caught Chris unaware.
But the surprise on his face changed to cold, calm hatred. He half-smiled at her. “Don’t worry, Matilda. Once I sell my product, I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Does that mean you’ll be a nice boy again?”
“It means I can leave. Get out of my face.”
Travis looked at me in surprise. He can leave? What’s that mean?
I don’t know.
After a long, challenging glare, Granny finally stepped away. When she walked around the minivan and returned to us, she lowered her voice. “I don’t know Chris all that well, but I never would have guessed he’d stand up to me.”
“He probably wouldn’t have before the cave,” I said.
“The cave?”
“Granny, you’ve missed a lot.”
“You and I will definitely have a chat about that later. Good luck with our nervous little boy.”
“I’m not nervous,” said Travis defensively.
“She means Chris,” I explained.
“Huh?” Travis thought about it until he saw Chris pacing again. “Oh.”
When Granny went into the house, she passed Angie coming out.
“Got ‘em!” Angie held up the keys and hurried to the van. Travis looked at me, feeling very afraid. He didn’t want to go with Chris anywhere for any reason. Chris’ new man-in-charge personality was scary.
As Angie opened the driver’s door I whispered how we felt. “Angie, we don’t want to go with him. Chris acts like he’s possessed by a demon.” There, I said it. I didn’t actually make an accusation, but I planted the seed.
Angie nodded. “I know what you mean. I think he’s just nervous about his presentation. But he won’t leave without us, all of us. He thinks having the family along will help his chances of impressing the bottling executives. Will you go? Please?”
My brother and I exchanged a quick glance. Angie’s scared, too, I said inside his head. She needs us.
Travis shrugged. “Can we go to McDonald’s on the way back?”
“Absolutely.”
Travis looked for my approval and I nodded. “Okay,” he said. “We’ll go.”