The Body of Christopher Creed

  The functional thing, which I've kept up until this day, is trying to find Creed through the Internet. I got the idea last summer, the last time I saw Dr. Fahdi. He mentioned Chris's love of the Internet.

  "His very last words to the town were via e-mail. You should try to find him and send him your story," Dr. Fahdi suggested.

  Dr. Fahdi had known me for a number of months at that point, and he knew I had not been part of any murder. And he also agreed with my stance that Creed was probably alive. I had returned to the same conclusion I had reached that night I stood on top of the three stones, before the one fell over on me. I had walked in Creed's shoes that night. The week previously, I had walked in little Greg's shoes, I had walked in Lyle Corsica's shoes, Ali's shoes. I still feel like I can walk in other people's shoes, and as for Creed, I decided that maybe he had "died" in the figurative sense. Maybe the psychic was right when she related him to death in the woods. Maybe I found death when I found that stupid treasure map, which stood as some sort of symbolic memorial to him. Maybe just after he sent his good-bye e-mail to Mr. Ames, he visited the woods, and there made the decision that Chris Creed—or at least those parts of himself that he wrote that he hated—would die.

  The e-mail he sent said, I wish that I was born somebody else. I am convinced he actually left Steepleton, and his intention was to become somebody else. Not just anybody else, but a person with the traits he admired in each of the people he mentioned in his note. I don't know what all those traits are, but I know who those people are. And since I feel like I connected so well with Creed that night on the rocks, I'm banking on my own intuition.

  I found a web site that you can join for a monthly fee, and it will look up any name you submit and send you the e-mail addresses that correspond with that name. I've looked up Torey Arrington. I tried Alex Healy. I tried Mike Adams. There were ten names in Creed's e-mail, and there's a hundred ways to mix them up before you start spelling them funky and stuff like that. It's like pulling needles out of a haystack. But I still send out one or two copies of this story a week. I'll pull some name combination like that out of my hat, check that name-search web site, and send the story to any e-mail address that corresponds with the name I dug up.

  I have gotten a lot of replies. None of the signees ever claims to be Creed or to know Creed. It amazes me that some people actually read through the whole thing. I keep up my hope, though some weeks it feels like a habit.

  I do get my up weeks. Then, if I'm not convinced I'll ever find him, I am convinced that the search is fun. During those weeks I'll even post some awards to my web site, which I call "In Search of Christopher Creed." I even scanned in his picture from the freshman high school yearbook, with mine alongside it.

  Here are some of my awards:

  1.—Most Flattering Reply to My Story about Chris Creed

  Dear Torey,

  Your writing is very sensuous and tenderly glazed with the passion of ocean breezes. If I had a candle and you, I would dance naked to "Titanic" while you read passages of this poetic journey from sweet youth to robust manhood. Open your sweet arms to me, my poet.

  Love,

  Torey J. Healy

  (J. stands for Jane)

  2. —Most Insulting Reply to My Story about Chris Creed

  Dear Mr. Adams,

  I am not the person for whom you are searching. You are not a man yet, though you may think you are by virtue of the fact that you actually wrote down a couple hundred pages of magnificent twaddle. The fact you failed to capture was the pain of the Creed mother and father, but being that you're just a boy, you could not understand the agony of parents who lose a child. Parents are not perfect, and perhaps when you mature, you will rewrite your piece to the effect that you understand the Creed family's grief. I, too, came from a poor background. I, too, was in the military. The military provided the first secure situation in my life. I, too, raise my children with structure and discipline and the spirit of the military. My children are very well adjusted and don't wear long hair, unlike you.

  Signed,

  Alex Healy

  3. —Reply Most Likely to Be from Chris Creed in Disguise

  Dear Torey:

  While your story fairs somewhat intriguing, you have split over two hundred verbs from their modifiers and started as many sentences with a preposition. Use your spell-checker and/or stick to songwriting.

  Michael Alex Adams

  4.—Reply That Makes Me Believe Totally That Creed Is Alive

  Dear Torey:

  I must say you have not only chronicled a very honest account of an extremely painful issue but you have painted the details in such a way that I could not resist scrolling down, and I was utterly swept into the circumstances. I wish I could say I am the person for whom you search. But I can say that I, while not being a writer, am a great lover of mysteries. Also, I am studying to be a psychotherapist, and with this combination of analytical learning and love of the genre, I will take the liberty of making comment and perhaps helping you out on your search.

  Your idea about Christopher Creed lying to himself about his life as a means to survive was very insightful. While seemingly very bizarre behavior, it actually prevents a child from having to cope with hopeless situations until such a time when he is old enough, or wise enough, to cope. Perhaps as your story makes its way around the world of the Internet, other youths will be touched by Chris. And when they cross paths with the child in school who seems different, who seems obnoxious and intolerable, perhaps they will remember Chris Creed and they will find their tolerance, their compassion.

  You mentioned, but did not circle back to, your thought when you stood for the first time outside the school corridor with Ali McDermott, and the two of you were discussing Chris Creed. You said, "You're making it sound like it's more dangerous to have a slightly weird family than a totally weird family." Let me close upon that thought for you.

  While radically negative families can, obviously, cause more overt trauma, a "slightly weird" family can have more lasting effects over a lifetime, effects that are harder to untangle because of their subtleties. A mother who beats her children can cause damage, but a mother who waltzes into her son's room while he's changing or chronically roots through his clothing can cause just as much damage. The difference is that it's much harder to prove this to the patient.

  Enough said for psychology. I want to comment now on two points you failed to notice about your own story that may, eventually, lead you to Creed. I see very obviously that he is alive. You walk in people's shoes fairly well, Mr. Adams, but you're not as insightful with clues.

  First, you never gave any credence to the treasure map found in the burial ground. Alex was very focused on Chris's choice of words, such as "I would venture to say" and "suffice it to say," and with Chris's seemingly inappropriate preservation of the map via lamination. Perhaps, had it not blown away from you so mysteriously (I don't even want to touch on your supernatural elements, for I'm not sure I believe), you would have had the visual aid to remind you later that the map is crucial.

  Chris told Alex he had buried treasure there. The main thrust of his mother becoming convinced he hadn't run off was that none of the money in his bank account had been touched. Perhaps there was a treasure, perhaps it was replaced by the map from its many-year hiding place, and perhaps that treasure funded Chris's trip to places unknown. Perhaps it was nothing more than a hundred-dollar bill or some lost billfold.

  But now, where did he go?

  He was a sheltered boy and not capable of much on his own. You failed to notice the importance of Ali's statement to you concerning Mrs. Creed's family. The two of you were spying from her bedroom, and Ali said to you, "Mrs. Creed's two sisters hate her so much, they haven't spoken in years. If he turns up dead, she'll probably call them, but not before." Perhaps, if these women understood their sister's insanity so well, they would have sympathized with the boy. Perhaps he contacted them in another state, perhaps via the Internet. Perhaps th
eir sympathy led them to agree to hide him, finish raising him. The fact that they were all once "boons" means his life would have been harder with them in some ways. But because of the strain under which he appeared to exist, I would say he probably would have found a life with them very accommodating.

  However, I don't really think that tidbit will help you locate him tomorrow.

  I would venture to say that the relatives are sworn to secrecy. You can hunt them down if you wish, but my feeling is that they will not talk until the young man gives the word. And psychologically speaking once again, I don't think that time is yet.

  I would venture to say that Chris Creed does not want to be exposed, for fear of his parents.

  I would venture to say that you should not bother him with urgings to come forth until he is, quite possibly, twenty-five.

  I would venture to say that, while your earnest desire to uncover him is admirable, he wishes to remain undiscovered for the time being. Thank you for sharing your story. And thank you for sharing your name...

  Yours most truly,

  Victor Adams

  Reader Chat Page

  When Torey hears that the Creeds believe their son Chris was "grounded" and "normal," he is amazed at how clueless these parents are about the way their kid really was. Do you think your parents know the real you? How might they describe your personality to others? How is it different from the way your friends might describe you?

  This story explores the repercussions that one person or event can have on an entire community. Can you think of an example of this—either positive or negative—in your community, or in the news?

  Chris Creed's disappearance brings up lots of questions for Torey, like these: "If Creed had written that note, we would have had to point the finger at ourselves, or at least take a good long look at our ways and agonize over questions. Like, could we have played it out differently? Could we have been nicer? Do we have a heartless streak, and can we be bastards?" What are your feelings on these issues? Have you ever wondered how the manner in which you treat people affects them? Do you think even good people are capable of being "heartless" at times?

  This story demonstrates the sometimes devastating impact of rumors and gossip. Cite some examples of this in the story. Have you ever been affected by gossip?

  Ali says, "People are blind ... All they see is a person's reputation." This is certainly true of Bo, along with other characters in the story. What kinds of assumptions does Torey have about Bo before he gets to know him? What surprises him about the "real" Bo? What qualities does Bo possess that Torey admires?

  If you had been in Torey's place, would you have let Bo take the blame for the phone call from the baseball field? Why or why not?

  When the police come to school to take Bo away, Torey is stunned. He muses, "I was scared that these allegedly respectable people let this thing get so bad. I guess I thought seeing a situation clearly was just part of being a grown-up." How do the grown-ups in this story fail to see things clearly, in Torey's opinion? Was there ever a moment in your life when you realized that adults are capable of making mistakes, too? How did that make you feel?

  How does Mrs. Creed's upbringing influence her opinion of Bo and her treatment of Chris? How might she have been different if she had not been raised a "boon"?

  What do you think Mr. Ames wanted Mrs. Creed to understand about her son? Why did he request that Torey tell her?

  What positive traits does Mrs. Creed believe she was passing to her son? Can you think of an example in real life of a person's best intentions hindering the progress of another person or situation?

  Mr. Ames wonders, "Why do people have so much trouble seeing their own faults but such and easy time seeing everyone else's?" Why do you think this is so? Cite an example of someone in the story doing this.

  Why does Torey stop associating with Leandra, Alex, Ryan, and Renee? How do they contribute to the madness surrounding Chris Creed's disappearance? Do you think Bo was right to reveal what he knew about Chief Bowen to Renee?

  If Chris Creed is alive, what kind of changes do you think he would want to make in his life after leaving Steepleton?

  Chatting with Carol Plum-Ucci

  Question: How long have you been writing?

  Carol Plum-Ucci: I wrote my first poem when I was eight. In fourth and fifth grades, I placed in (may have won) the city-wide essay contests. My kids are pretty jealous; I just never had any doubts about what I wanted to do, save that period most of us go through in seventh and eighth grade where we want to be either a veterinarian or a pediatrician. I went there, but bounced back after a couple months.

  Q: What is your writing process? Do you work certain hours or days?

  CP-U: I've been very prone to writer's block, so I write whenever I get the urge, and I stick with it until the block gets me again. I've written all of my published books that way. I do have to be somewhat scheduled, as I also teach college (English) and homeschool my daughter (she's eleven as I'm writing this). Duty is ever calling, but when you get the inspiration, nothing can really stop it. I don't worry about it anymore.

  Q: Are your characters inspired by people you know?

  CP-U: Lani Garver was inspired by a real friend of mine whom I call "my angel." He gave me a lot of fodder for Lani's past by telling me his past. But that's unusual, at least for me. Generally, characters are part of the author's psyche. To create characters, an author is actually paring off parts of his psyche and doling them out. Almost all my characters are like that.

  Q: How do you come up with story ideas?

  CP-U: Generally some issue charges me up, and that's the fodder. It's the type of issue that makes you think, "Wow, that is so unfair. Why is life like that? What can be done about it?" For example, Streams of Babel came from my reflections on how people of other nations can really dislike Americans. We're just people, trying to make life work well with what we're given, and it feels strange and uncomfortable to me, this being an object of disdain because of where I was born and raised. Hence, the book arose on what average, small town people would feel like if terrorists took a shot at them.

  Q: What advice do you have for aspiring writers?

  CP-U: My first bit of advice is to keep it fun. If an aspiring writer, still in high school, feels like he is forcing himself to do the daily discipline thing, forget about it for a while. For me personally, high school was a great input time. I barely wrote a short story. That came later, when I was older and my time was more my own.

  My second bit of advice is to seek out a college major other than creative writing. Students are better off majoring in journalism or advertising or even something like psychology, where they're prepared to do 'real life' during the day and use that to fill their idea tanks. Novels get written, regardless, and you can either be fed or starving in the process.

  Q: You often write about the strained relationship between teens and authority figures. Many of your stories expose the hypocrisy of parents, teachers, or the police. Do you think it is important for teens to question authority?

  CP-U: I'm always surprised to hear that (though I hear it often), because extremely grounded adults are always in the forefront of my stories, and I feel great affection for them. Some great examples include Torey's parents and Principal Ames in The Body of Christopher Creed; Claire's father, all the doctors and medics, and all the guys in the band in Lani Garver; Evan's entire family, Principal Ashaad, and Edwin Church in The She; and Captain Lutz in The Night My Sister Went Missing. For some reason, the bad adults eclipse the good ones, and I'm not sure why that is, except that scandal tends to be more noticeable than stability.

  I don't have personal issues with authority, though obviously, it is important for anyone of any age to question situations with which they're uncomfortable. I always tell my students, "Just because it appears in the pages of a book doesn't mean it's accurate."

  Q: Many of your books feature characters who are missing, possibly dead. What do you hope reader
s will take away from your exploration of these ambiguous situations?

  CP-U: I don't really know why I keep revisiting the theme of missing people. I have Chris Creed, of course, and Lani Garver, and Casey Carmody in The Night My Sister Went Missing. It could be something as simple as that I have a peaceful nature and just don't have what it would take to create a serial killer for intrigue. It could also have something to do with my fixation on spirituality. Missing people tend to take on a divine status. They become mythical and may personify my journey through the mysteries of life and death.

  Q: The ocean is often a key element in your stories. What does the sea represent to you, and what draws you to write about it?

  CP-U: When I first became a writer and it became obvious that I would have to do some public speaking, I started to examine my normal life for interesting fodder and realized how extraordinary certain aspects were. For one, I was raised in a funeral home. I spent half of my nights awake, waiting for corpses to come up the stairs. As well, I was raised on a barrier island. The islands speak to me, as do the Pine Barrens, where Creed took place. I realized I didn't need to go anywhere to have the perfect settings. I'm drawn back to them again and again, and in fact, I've broken writer's block by moving the settings of novels out of some other place, like the mountains, and down to the shore, where I can smell the sea and taste the salt in the air. Good settings work like characters, and I know mine very well.