Then it beeps.
I’m pretty sure dragons don’t honk and I’m completely positive they don’t beep. Cars beep, trucks beep.
Buses beep.
My brain has barely figured it out when Dip leaps out of the Prairie Schooner and gives us both a hug.
“Howdy doody, kids! Man, are we glad to see you!”
By now my eyes have gotten used to the headlights and I can see the old painted-up school bus filling up the tunnel. And behind Dip is this other old dude I can’t quite make out. He’s coming at us real careful, like he’s afraid we’ll disappear, or run away.
“Max,” he says, and then I know.
It’s Grim, my grandfather, which is like impossible. I’m so confused about how he could be here with the Dippy Hippie, or why the Prairie Schooner came roaring into the mine like a mean old dragon, that I can’t think of anything to say.
Grim, he’s not too cool with words either, so he just gives me this stiff kind of hug, and then he clears his throat and says, “Well. So. Fancy meeting you here, huh?”
It feels like I swallowed an apple or something, my throat is that choked up. Which is totally stupid because I should be happy, right? But instead it’s like somebody punched me in the chest and I can hardly get my breath.
Dip, he takes charge and herds everybody into the bus. “We may have to make a sudden getaway,” he says. Making it sound like a joke except it turns out he’s not joking.
What happened is, after Frank and Joanie tried to turn us in for the reward and we had to run away or get arrested, Dip decided it was all his fault and he had to do something about it.
“Finally I did the right thing,” Dip explains. “I called the police in your hometown and they gave me your grandfather’s phone number. He hopped a plane and met me at a campground in Nebraska and we’ve been driving ever since.” He looks over at stern-faced Grim and shakes his head. “Your grandpa is a funny old codger, but we get along okay.”
Grim goes, “I’m no older than you are, you flower-power fogey.” And Dip starts laughing so hard his glasses fall off and his big belly shakes. “That’s it!” he says, “We’re the flower-power fogeys!”
Grim makes a face and snorts, but you can tell he kind of likes the idea even if he won’t admit it.
“We heard you’d been sighted in Chivalry, and when we got here the sheriff told us you’d run down into the old mining tunnels,” Dip explains. “We thought you were goners, both of you. But we started searching for another way into the mine and got lucky. Then what do you know, our prayers were answered and you’re both okay.”
Worm has flopped down on the old sofa, testing the springs, and when Dip mentions the part about prayers being answered, she grins like crazy and her eyes are so bright and green you can hardly stand to look at her.
Grim clears his throat and goes, “Anybody got any ideas?”
“I hadn’t really thought beyond finding these two,” Dip whispers to him.
Grim nods to himself. “At this point it’s their word against, uhm, that man,” he says very quietly.
Dip fiddles with one of his pigtails like he does when he’s thinking hard. After a while he goes, “We need to find Max a good lawyer. I’ve got a little money saved up and you’re welcome to it.”
“We’ll manage,” Grim says. “But thanks.”
The amazing thing is, somehow they both know I didn’t do anything wrong, even without me telling them. Which makes me think if you stick to the truth you’ll be okay, even if the rest of the world thinks you’re a liar.
Dip brightens up and says, “I’ve got another idea.” We’re all expecting something really amazing, but he says, “One word. Pancakes.”
Grim grumbles and goes, “That’s your big idea?”
“These kids look half-starved,” Dip points out. “We’ll all think better on full stomachs. So I vote we head for the nearest pancake house, eat till we bust, and then we’ll figure out what to do next.”
“Pancakes sound good,” Worm says.
Dip says it’s settled and he fires up the Prairie Schooner and backs it out of the tunnel, going extra careful so he doesn’t scratch the paint, which probably nobody but him would notice.
When we’re almost out of the tunnel the back windows start to turn orange, which looks weird until I realize the sun is going down. So me and Worm were lost in the mine for a whole day. If you asked me how long it was, I’d have said somewhere between ten minutes and forever.
I’m thinking the sunset is pretty cool, the way the sky looks on fire, and the clouds could be giant castles made of smoke, when all of a sudden Dip says a bad word and jams on the brakes.
Grim goes, “Everybody stay calm,” but there’s no way I can stay calm when I see the white cop car blocking our way.
Dip is tapping his fingers on the wheel and looking in the rearview mirror and saying, “Darn. I really had my heart set on pancakes.”
My stomach feels like I’ve been eating tadpoles again, which I haven’t done since I was too dumb to know any better, but my stomach doesn’t know that, and my brain is having a great time laughing at me. You big moron, it says. What did you expect? A happy ending? Did you really think you could drive off into the sunset and nothing would happen? Huh? Are you really that stupid? Answer me, you big moron.
I want to tell my brain to shut up, but it’s too late, Sheriff Goodman is already knocking on the door of the bus.
“Open up!” he says. “I want you all to come out real peaceful. One at a time. No sudden moves and no fooling around.”
Dip opens the bus door. “No problem,” he says to the sheriff.
Dip gets out first. Then Grim. Then me. The sheriff is giving me this look, like if he stares hard enough the truth will just melt right out of me.
Grim goes, “There’s been a mistake, officer. Max never meant any harm. He was trying to protect the girl. Her stepfather is the real culprit.”
“Could be,” the sheriff says. “That’s for a court to decide.”
He unsnaps a pair of handcuffs from his belt. “Maxwell Kane, you’re under arrest.”
The weird thing is, even though I should feel really terrible and low and miserable, I don’t. Not even close. I’m too happy that Grim and Dip are there to take care of Worm, and anyhow, sleeping in a jail cell can’t be much worse than sleeping in a freight car or an old saloon with holes in the roof, and I did both of those and came out okay. I’m thinking maybe prison won’t be so bad after all, and they’ll probably let me read books and maybe I’ll take up a hobby and be the Bird Man of Alka-Seltzer or whatever.
“Hold out your hands,” the sheriff tells me.
He’s just about to put the cuffs on me when the cop car door creaks open. “I told you to stay in the car,” the sheriff says, real sharp.
But the Undertaker gets out anyhow. With his black clothes and his black hat. His face is pointed like a hatchet and his eyes are full of hate.
He comes barging up, jamming his finger at me like a gun. “Where is she?” he shouts, spit flying from his mouth. “What have you done with Rachel? You’ve been brainwashing her, haven’t you? Turning her against me!”
That’s when Worm sneaks out of the bus, holding her bag of books. She tries to hide behind me, but the Undertaker makes a grab at her and she ducks away. She won’t look at him, no matter what.
“Rachel?” he says.
“I’m not Rachel!” she shouts. “Rachel is dead!”
Then Worm moves so quick that nobody can stop her.
I go, “No! Don’t!”
But it’s too late. The darkness has already swallowed her up.
Only a total moron would run into a deep dark mine without a flashlight. But I don’t have time to think about it, because I know where Worm is going.
The mine shaft. The place where we prayed and she felt she was safe from all the bad things in the world, and nothing could touch her.
I’ve got this terrible empty feeling inside, like that fall
ing dream you have just before you go to sleep, only I’m wide-awake and it won’t stop.
“Rachel!” I’m calling out. “Wait up! Wait for me!”
But her running feet keep skittering ahead of me in the darkness. The thing is, because I have to scrunch down to keep from bumping my head, Worm can run a lot faster than me. And even scrunched over, I keep banging into things, the sides of the tunnel and the timbers and stuff.
I’m not the only one chasing Worm. The others are back there behind me. Grim and Dip and Sheriff Goodman and the Undertaker, too. Which makes me run all the faster, because if he gets to her first, there’s no telling what will happen.
Running faster turns out to be a mistake. Smack! Before I know what’s happening, I’m flat on my back with my nose swelling up like a banana where I smacked it against the wall. Fork in the tunnel and I hit it face first.
So now I’ve got two tunnels to choose from and no time to mess around. I try to shake the ringing out of my ears and listen for those running feet. Pitter-pat, pitter-pat. Hide-and-seek, except for her it’s just the hide part. She doesn’t want anybody to find her, not ever.
Go right, my brain tells me.
The tunnel slopes down pretty steep, which makes sense because when we came from the opposite direction it slanted up. Up toward the light. Down into the darkness.
“Rachel! Please wait!”
That’s when I notice a faint beam of light flickering far ahead. Worm has her miner’s light on. Which makes me feel a little better because at least she won’t fall into the mine shaft, not if she can see it first.
Or that’s what I’m hoping. That’s what keeps me going, even though I can’t seem to get enough air to breathe and my feet feel like they’re made of lead. Mostly what’s wrong with me is I’m afraid. Afraid Worm is going to get hurt or killed and it’ll be my fault.
Your fault? my brain says. Don’t be a bonehead. How could it be your fault?
Because I made her think I’d keep her safe, and then I didn’t, that’s why. Because even though I said there was no such thing as Max the Mighty, I really thought there was, and it turned out to be a lie.
But you didn’t mean to hurt her, my brain says.
So what? It’s still my fault, I’m thinking. If you want to be a superhero, you have to get it right, that’s the deal.
I’m thinking so hard my feet get tangled up and I go down, skidding along the slanted floor, getting closer and closer to the flickering light.
When I finally come to a stop, I put my hands out to push myself up from the floor, but there is no floor.
I’m right on the edge of the mine shaft.
Inch by inch I wriggle backward until I’m clear of the edge and my heart can start beating again.
“You shouldn’t have come,” Worm says. “I have to do this by myself.”
At first I can’t see her. All I can see is the miner’s light bobbing around. After a while I can make out a shadow that has the shape of her, and that’s when my heart wants to stop again, because she’s standing right on the edge of the mine shaft.
“Be careful,” I say. “You’ll fall in.”
“So what?” She says softly. “My dad is dead. My mom might as well be dead, married to a creep like that. Things would be a whole lot easier if I was dead, too.”
She’s on the other side of the shaft, where I can’t get to her right away.
Say something, my brain tells me.
I want to tell her that life is like the books she reads, and no matter how bad things look, it will all work out in the end. That’s another big lie, but I’ll say anything to stop her from going over the edge. The problem is, I’m so scared that my mouth won’t work.
“I know you tried,” she says. “And I kept pretending it would be okay. But it isn’t okay. He’ll get me. Nobody can stop him.”
I’m on my hands and knees, creeping along in slow motion, no sudden moves. But the closer I get to her, the closer she gets to the edge.
I go, “Max the Mighty can stop him. Max the Mighty can save you.”
She moves even closer to the edge. “There’s no such thing,” she says. “I made it up, remember?”
That stops me in my tracks. Because I know in my bones that if I don’t have an answer, Worm will slip over the edge. And it has to be the right answer and it has to be true.
I’m kind of surprised when my mouth starts talking, like it already knows what to say without me having to think about it.
“You’re right,” I say. “You made it up. I’m just plain Max, and I’ll never read as many books as you, or be as smart as you, but I do know one thing. You know how bad you feel about your father, and how much you miss him? I feel that bad about my mom and my best friend Kevin. And if I lose you, I’ll feel even worse, all the time. Every day for the rest of my life. And that’s the truth.”
I’m staring across the mine shaft at her miner’s light. Staring with all my might, hoping I said the right thing.
Suddenly Worm says, “Good-bye,” and then the miner’s light is falling. It spins end over end, falling down and down and down, getting smaller and smaller, until the darkness swallows it up, and I’m all alone in the dark.
Inside it feels like part of me is falling with the light, and will keep falling forever.
Stupid, stupid, STUPID.
And then a warm hand finds my big stupid face in the dark and Worm says, “I gave my father back his light. So he can find his way in the dark, like I did.”
I’ve got Worm by the hand and we’re going slow and careful, heading up through the shadows to the surface of the world.
She’s afraid but that doesn’t stop her. “You’ve got to promise,” she says. “Friends for life. No matter what. No matter how many fights we have or how many stupid things we say to each other.”
“I hate fights,” I say. “But I can’t help saying stupid things sometimes.”
“But you promise?”
I go, “Promise,” and then Worm asks me to crouch down and she gives me a quick little kiss.
“For luck,” she explains. “We’re going to need it.”
We’re coming into the rosy light of sunset when the ground starts shaking under our feet.
Rrrrrrrrrummmmble.
Like the whole mine is clearing its throat and getting ready to cough. There’s a sound like wood splitting, and then something heavy falls thump! and makes the ground shake again.
Up ahead of us, not too far away, somebody groans.
“Help … me,” a familiar voice says. “Help me or I’ll die.”
All I can see of the Undertaker is his long, black-covered legs sticking out from under a huge beam. Part of the mine has caved in and he’s trapped. His boots are twitching so I know he’s alive.
“I can’t breathe,” he gasps. “Get this off me, please.”
Feet come running up behind us.
“Don’t touch anything,” Sheriff Goodman says. “The whole place is ready to come down on our heads.”
Dip and Grim are both panting so hard they can barely talk, but Grim sees Worm is safe and sound and he gives me a thumbs-up. Which is pretty cool for Grim.
The Undertaker groans some more. The way the beam has got him pinned, I can’t see his face, but I can hear him moaning and groaning, and it sure sounds pitiful. Even though I can’t stand the guy, I feel bad for him, the way you’d feel if a really mean dog got hit by a car and needed help. Part of you is glad the dog can’t hurt you anymore, but you don’t want it to die.
I go, “Maybe we can dig out from under him,” but the sheriff thinks that’s a bad idea, that it might make matters worse.
“Everybody out of the mine,” he says. “I’ll call backup, get a rescue team in here to do it right.”
“Don’t leave me!” the Undertaker wails.
Worm, she’s been standing there real quiet, not moving. But after a little while she lets go of my hand and edges a little closer to him. Not too close, like she’s worried he’
s playing a trick.
“You were the one who beat up my mom,” she says. “You were the one who hurt me. It was you! Not Max. You lied about that. You lied about everything.”
The Undertaker groans and then goes, “Your momma was asking for it! She was going to call the cops! It was all her fault!”
When Sheriff Goodman hears that, he looks at me and nods, like he knew all along that I wasn’t really a criminal. Then he tugs down on the brim of his cowboy hat and says, “Let’s move along, folks.”
We’re starting to go when suddenly I can feel it coming up through my feet. This rumbling from deep underground, like the whole mine has decided to cave in, starting at the bottom.
“Please!” the Undertaker groans. “Somebody help!”
The timbers and planks are shaking. Clouds of dust belch up from down below.
Creeeeak! And a huge kerchunk! of rocks smashing together. Everything is breaking, falling apart.
“She’s going!” the sheriff cries. “Get out of here! Run!”
Dip grabs hold of Worm and takes her away and I can hear Grim shouting at me through the roaring dust. Shouting to leave while I’ve got the chance.
There’s nothing I want more than to get out of that mine while the getting is good, but just as I start to go, a strange thing happens.
This pale white hand reaches up through the dirt and the dust. The Undertaker. He can’t talk because his face is covered with dirt, but his hand is begging me for help. Don’t leave me, it says. Please, please.
Grim screams, “Max! Don’t!”
My brain screams, Run! Run!
But it’s too late, because I’ve already got my arms under the fallen beam, and I’m yanking it up with all my might. With so many rocks pinning it down, it must weigh a ton. It’s like trying to move the earth, but I have to do it, there’s no one else who can.
So I yank harder. Harder.
The beam moves.
The thing is, once you start lifting something really heavy, you can’t stop when you’re halfway done. You have to lift it all the way up. My knees feel like old tires about to blow out, but I can’t stop until the huge old timber is up on my shoulder.
Max the Mighty Page 10