“And the sinners shall be punished,” Mrs. Higgins intoned, her hair coming loose from its bun and swirling around her head like snakes. “The dead will walk and everyone left on this earth shall perish.”
“That’s not in the Bible,” Miss Cleo said through tight lips.
“Neither is that.” Mrs. Higgins held up a trembling hand, her bony finger pointing in Gabe’s direction.
“Y’all can’t be serious,” Gabe said, his lighthearted tone starting to falter. “Come on, now, it’s me. You made a mistake, that’s all. Do I look dead?”
He threw out his arms, to prove his point, and every single eye zoomed straight to his belly. He peered down at the hole in his T-shirt, and his heart sank in his chest. There was something about that hole he hadn’t noticed before, though he didn’t quite see how he could have missed it. The edges weren’t coated in mud at all. It was dark brown blood, and bits of it had splattered his jeans, too, and the rest of his T-shirt.
And just like that his neighbors started to run, some for the parking lot, others straight across the empty field behind the church.
“No mistake,” said Mr. Lawson, standing his ground.
“But I’m right here, you can see me,” Gabe said. Ollie sat down on Gabe’s feet and started whining something awful at Gabe’s feet. “I’m not going to hurt anyone.”
There was a long silence. The few who had stayed started blowing out their candles and backing away.
“You’d better get on, now,” Miss Cleo said after a while, though she wouldn’t meet Gabe’s eyes. At least she hadn’t run away. “You and your pup.”
“Listen to your mama,” said Mr. Lawson, folding his massive arms over his chest.
“She’s not my mama,” Gabe said. Anger bubbled up inside him, but it fizzled out at the look on Miss Cleo’s face. Like he’d managed to slap her without even touching her. It was true, though. Miss Cleo wasn’t his mama, and she’d never much tried to be. His real mama died when he was still a kid, on the same day as his daddy. Gabe wanted to live with Gramps once his parents passed, but then he’d up and died, too.
So, it’d fallen to Miss Cleo to take care of him, and even though she’d never been a mama to him, she hadn’t turned him out on the street, either. And maybe that was something.
“Sorry, Miss Cleo.” Gabe hung his head. “You believe me, don’t you? I’m not some spook come back from the dead. Look.” He pinched his skin to show that he was real.
Miss Cleo didn’t answer. Danny Romero’s parents patted Miss Cleo on the back and hurried to their car, and Gabe had never seen Ms. Sylvia Peabody, head of the Feral Cat Protection Committee, move so fast in her three-inch heels.
“Hold on, this must be some kind of joke. It must be!” Gabe closed the distance between him and Miss Cleo, meaning to talk some sense into her face-to-face, but Mr. Lawson blocked his path.
“No joke and no mistake.” His jawbones worked back and forth under his skin, like he was sharpening his teeth, getting ready to bite. Mr. Lawson wasn’t the nicest fella in town, but Gabe had never known him to look quite so mean. “You’d better be on your way now, son.”
That was when Pastor Higgins flew out of the church wielding the Christmas Eve candelabra like it was some kind of deadly weapon.
“Get away from my church, demon!” Pastor Higgins sliced the air with that silver candelabra, tripped over a rock, and fell flat on his face in the mud.
It was all so ridiculous that any other day Gabe would’ve laughed. Then he looked down again at the front of his T-shirt, and at the scared, sad expression on Miss Cleo’s face. It might be ridiculous, but Mr. Lawson was right. This was no joke.
Now Gabe was the one backing away, the world going dizzy around him. He couldn’t figure out how everything had gone so wrong so fast, and next thing he knew he tripped over a headstone and fell hard on the grass. The strange thing was, it didn’t even hurt. He got up again, with Ollie’s help, and took one last look at Miss Cleo.
“I guess I’ll see you later, then,” he said slowly, the full weight of his situation just beginning to dawn on him. Everyone in his life had already left him—his mom, his dad, Gramps—and now even Miss Cleo couldn’t stand the sight of him. Not only that, the whole dang town seemed to think he was some kind of monster.
“I’m afraid this had better be goodbye. Not just for now,” Mr. Lawson said. “For good.”
Just then, a car screeched into the parking lot, and three boys scrambled out. Gabe’s heart soared at the sight of them. It was Chance, Gabe’s best friend, and his two older brothers. Surely Chance would believe him.
“There he is,” yelled Jace, the oldest of the three. “Pa was right, he really is back. Let’s get him.”
Jace and Caleb, the middle brother, pounded over the crumbling parking lot toward them. Jace held an Easton Black Magic baseball bat. Gabe could tell, because it was the same one he’d left at Chance’s house just last week. Caleb didn’t have any kind of weapon, but that didn’t matter much. He loved giving beatdowns, and Gabe knew from experience that his fists could hurt just as much as any bat. Chance stood by the car, mouth open, like he didn’t know whether to join in or run.
“Chance!” Gabe called, but the look Chance gave him made every last bit of hope crumble to dust. There was disgust and fear and maybe a little bit of remorse in that look, but just a little. Chance didn’t care what happened to him, not any more than Miss Cleo, that much was clear, and here Gabe was thinking best friends stood up for each other.
The brothers hit the grass without slowing down and every muscle in Gabe’s body tensed. They weren’t going to stop. It sounded too wild to be believed, but there it was. He looked over at Miss Cleo and Mr. Lawson, but neither raised their voice or made a move to stop what was about to happen.
Ollie tensed his forty-pound body and got ready to attack. That was when Gabe made his decision. He could take a beating, sure enough. After all, he’d done so on more than one occasion, but if anything happened to Ollie, he’d never forgive himself. Chance was alright, for the most part, but his brothers were what Miss Cleo called ill-bred. They’d spun a cat around by its tail once and flung it into a ditch. No way anything like that was going to happen to his dog.
“I guess this is it,” said Gabe, to everyone and no one in particular. Miss Cleo had turned her back on him, her head buried in her hands, as if he were already gone. So much for a long, heartfelt goodbye. “Come on, boy, let’s get out of here.”
Gabe and Ollie took off running, jumping over gravestones like they were Olympic athletes. He didn’t slow down, even when the grass turned to sharp rocks under his bare feet. Truth be told, they didn’t hurt, not one little bit. Ollie, on the other hand, was panting something terrible, but he kept up as best he could. They’d just scaled the small iron fence surrounding the churchyard when something hard cracked into the back of Gabe’s head.
He slowed down and fell forward, his face slamming into the grass. Ollie barked and snarled and snapped at the air.
“Don’t touch him, man, let’s get out of here,” said a breathless voice somewhere behind him. “This is so Evil Dead, I’m serious, Jace, just leave him alone and let’s go.”
“No way,” said Chance’s eldest brother. “Do you want him coming back to eat your face off in your sleep?”
Gabe reached out, and his fingers found the thing that had hit him. It was a rock the size of a softball. He turned around, but not before another rock crashed into his cheek.
“Cut it out, man. Come on!” Caleb cried.
Gabe’s ears were ringing and the whole world seemed to spin around him. Before he could figure out what to do, he saw a brown-and-black shape surge past him, aiming straight for the boys. He had to act fast. Ollie had teeth and jaws and good intentions, but he was no match for a rock the size of an asteroid.
Gabe bolted upright, just in time to see Jace get into a hitter’s stance. Ollie was moving so fast, there was no way Gabe could stop him. Jace swung that bat
, his eyes wide with fear, and something else, too. Like maybe he was enjoying this.
Ollie was hanging in midair now, his hair standing straight up like one long black sail.
“I told you to stop!” Caleb cried, but the words didn’t reach Gabe’s brain. He was too busy grabbing for his dog and screaming inside his head, since he knew he wouldn’t make it. That bat kept right on coming, and Gabe stretched and stretched, preparing himself for the sickening crunch of breaking bones, but it never came.
What happened was this. Caleb pushed Jace hard in the chest just before the bat made contact, and he fell, hitting his left shoulder on a rock. Ollie skidded to the dirt, in the spot where Jace had been only a moment before. Spitting with rage, Jace sank his fist into Caleb’s face, and a full-on brawl ensued.
Gabe didn’t stop long enough to see who won, or even to say thank you. He picked Ollie up by the rump and ran as fast as he could, speeding away from the only place he’d ever lived and the only people he’d ever known.
They kept on running till they found themselves deep in the woods. And then, Gabe only paused for a moment, to feel his head and cheek. To his surprise, he wasn’t even bleeding. And the ache, if he felt any ache at all, was a small one. He cuddled Ollie a minute, to celebrate their narrow escape, and then they took off again, cutting a new path through the trees and the overgrown brush.
When Gabe was a kid, he’d always loved it when Gramps took him camping. They’d roast marshmallows and Gramps would tell him stories about rustling cows on the farm or flying bombers in World War II. Well, Gramps wasn’t here.
Gabe was alone, more alone than he’d ever been, and camping alone wasn’t all that fun.
As if in protest to his sullen thoughts, Ollie ran up and licked his ankle. “At least I got you, boy. I guess that means I’m never really alone.”
Gabe picked up his step, trying to let that thought lift his spirits. It was true, Ollie was the best friend a boy could have. What did it matter if he was a dog and not a person? People let you down. They turn their backs on you when all you ever tried to do was help.
Yup, he was better off just him and Ollie. “You’re a true and loyal friend, you know that, boy?”
Ollie must have understood, because he gave Gabe one more fierce lick and then took off running. Gabe trotted after him, feeling a whole lot better about his predicament. Camping out still didn’t prove to be much fun, though.
For one thing, Ollie picked up a tick about every one or two feet. Having a hungry tick bite into your bottom must not be that great, because Ollie kept gnawing at his rear end like he meant to chew it clean off. Gabe did the best he could to pull out the ticks without tearing off the heads, but that was easier said than done. By the time they’d made it a few miles, judging by the position of the sun, Ollie’s bottom was itchier than a flea on a hot plate.
Gabe carried him a good part of the time, but Ollie was a sniffer dog, in spirit if not by credential, and he kept wiggling till Gabe had no choice but to set him free.
Once the sky turned from bright blue to soft purples and pinks, Gabe decided there was no way those boys were gonna follow them. Good, at least that was one less thing to worry about. He settled down beside a small creek, taking a seat in the shade. Ollie bounded into the water and drank for so long Gabe was surprised he didn’t burst.
With his thirst satisfied, Ollie plopped down next to Gabe. He was panting hard, but Gabe was grateful to see he was still smiling. He leaned back, resting his head on a rock like it was a pillow. Maybe that would be his pillow for a while, at least until he could make Miss Cleo see sense.
Trudging through the woods all day had given him plenty of time to think, not only about his rotten luck but about where to go from here. The way he saw it, he only had one option. He had to sneak back into town next chance he got, despite those two mean brothers. If he could just explain things to Miss Cleo one-on-one, he was certain she’d understand. True, they’d never got along that great, and Miss Cleo could be mean when she wanted, but Ollie needed a home. A real home. Even if he did have to sleep out in the yard with the rotten eggs and chicken poop.
And maybe Gabe needed a home, too, even if he hated to admit it.
Yup, first thing next morning, Gabe would head back into town and make his case. That would give the brothers time to go back to what they were best at, skipping school and generally making other people’s lives miserable. And Miss Cleo never left the house before eleven if she could help it, so as long as he made it back by then, he should be good. Miss Cleo wasn’t the nicest or the most forgiving, but once he said his piece, he knew she’d see sense.
Gabe turned his attention to the sky, where the soft pinks and purples slowly turned a peaceful shade of deep-ocean blue. He imagined fish flitting by, some small and shimmery, others so long the sky wasn’t big enough to hold them. He took a deep breath, and to his surprise the air tasted fresh and cool and salty. The trickles of the creek turned into the reassuring roar of the ocean, at least in his mind.
It was just like Gramps had always said. “If you’re feeling scared or worried or overwhelmed, picture something magical. Something big. Because then, all your fears will look small as gnats by comparison.”
Gramps.
Was that what had happened that night in Miss Cleo’s bed? He’d been scared and so he’d pictured something magical, his gramps come back from the dead? ’Cause he had died, just like his parents, nearly two years ago to the day. If only Death could have kept his nasty paws off him for once. Like it wasn’t enough that he’d already snatched both of Gabe’s parents. Then he could have convinced Gramps that he should live with him instead of Miss Cleo, and Miss Cleo would be nothing more than his mean old chicken-loving neighbor. No way Gramps would turn him out of his home, not even if he really did transform into some moldy, brain-eating zombie.
Oh well. Guess it should come as no surprise that Death, like life, wasn’t always fair.
And what was it Gramps had said that night in his dream? He searched the back corners of his brain, trying to remember, but it was no use.
Apart from his final words, that is. He remembered those clear enough, because they were so strange. His very own gramps saying he was sorry.
“Sorry for what?” Gabe said, but Ollie didn’t answer. He was fast asleep, tummy in the air, legs spread-eagled, snoring like a hog with a head cold.
Gabe must have drifted off, too, after a while, because the next time he woke up it was dark and chilly and something wet was wiggling inside the hole in his stomach.
He just about jumped out of his skin when he felt it, scrambling backward into an unfortunate collision with a tree trunk. He swiped at his tummy, like he was expecting to find a snake or a worm the size of a garden hose wiggling around where it shouldn’t be. Instead, a familiar pointy nose nuzzled his chin, and then Ollie proceeded to kiss him rapid-fire on the lips.
Gabe managed to redirect his assault to his hands, but then, to his extreme discomfort, Ollie turned his attention once again to the hole.
“Quit it,” Gabe pleaded, but when Ollie was on a mission, he was like a bee headed for honey.
He licked and smacked and slobbered, and the weird part was, Gabe didn’t feel a thing. Apart from being ticklish, and wanting to throw up.
After a few minutes, Ollie finally started to grow tired, and Gabe felt around for a juicy-looking stick. With Ollie successfully distracted, Gabe sopped up the slobber on the inside of his T-shirt. He touched the hole on his stomach, gingerly, and then the one on his back. They lined up perfectly, as if he were one of those tiny party sausages, and someone had stuck him clean through with a toothpick.
He thought back to that wild evening, up on the roof with Princess Carmella. He remembered how she’d flapped just out of reach as he’d grabbed for her, and he remembered the sight of that twister coming down out of the sky like some giant, demonic finger. He even recalled how that twister had carried her off, the whine and the dusty, electrifying smell
of it. Then he took hold of that weather vane, and his mind was blank after that.
A blank that ended with him sleeping rough in the woods with a rock for a pillow.
Gabe’s pondering was interrupted by the steady pitter-patter of rain. As was often the case around these parts, it grew from a drizzle to a torrent in a matter of seconds. The thin tree branches provided little protection, and so they ran. Thankfully, Gabe had been out this way before, “getting up to no good,” as Miss Cleo put it, so he knew there were some old caves on this side of Very, Very Tall Hill.
Very, Very Tall Hill, as its name implied, was the tallest hill not only in Macomb County, but in the whole dang world. That was because it was just a few inches short of being considered the world’s puniest mountain. Gabe and Ollie ran through the pounding rain and took refuge in the first cave they found.
It was dark and cold and it smelled like mildew growing over wet rock. As soon as they ducked inside, the rain stopped. Not stopped altogether, but it died down from a torrent to a polite purr.
Gabe shook his head, and even though it wasn’t really that funny, he couldn’t help but laugh. Not just about the rain, either. About the whole dang situation. Imagine him risking his life on account of a no-good chicken, trying to make Miss Cleo happy, and what thanks did he get for his troubles? None, that’s what. At least, nothing apart from a big fat kick to the backside.
Ollie tensed and then shook off his fur right in Gabe’s face. There was nothing to do but keep on laughing. That was always Gramps’s philosophy, and it was his philosophy, too. Blissful and unaware of the shower his shaking had caused, Ollie turned around a dozen times before plopping down on the dirt and closing his eyes. Since they were both wet already, Gabe decided he might as well have somewhere better to rest his head than a rock, so he used Ollie as a pillow.
His body was extra warm, and his breathing soon soothed Gabe into a deep and restful sleep. When he woke up next, it was morning.
Bone Hollow Page 3