by Ty Burson
This time, Steve decided to follow his dad and didn’t even care if he got caught—this was all way too weird. He walked right behind his dad and noticed something he hadn’t before: his father was walking funny, stiffly, like he was in a trace, like some sort of zombie. That was it, Steve thought, my dad has turned into a zombie, a super-human zombie! But if he was a zombie, he wouldn’t be human anymore, so he couldn’t be super-human. Okay, a super-strong zombie, Steve amended. Either way, though, he decided, that can’t be a good thing.
Steve was still trying to figure out what his mother would say about being married to the undead when he practically ran into his dad. Roger had stopped and dropped both containers. He popped off one lid and dumped the contents of the barrel into a vast hole that Steve had missed because of the fog. Before his dad could finish dumping the second barrel, Steve felt the ground start to tremble. It started as a little shimmy, but soon grew stronger. Steve thought they might be having another earthquake, except this quake was accompanied by a strange noise.
It was sort of a humming sound, a vibration, and as the earthquake intensified, so did the noise. It grew louder while the ground shook harder. It reminded Steve of his mom’s ancient washer, which banged when the load was unbalanced; it was that obnoxious. And it kept going and going! Right when he was absolutely sure that there was going to be a volcanic eruption or some other cataclysmic event—nothing. Everything stopped, the shaking, the noise, everything. Even the fog was gone! Steve sought out his dad, who was unaffected, it seemed, because he was just snapping the barrel lids back in place and returning to the truck as if nothing had happened.
Steve hadn’t realized how loud the sound was until it was gone. In the noise vacuum, all he could hear was his dad still softly chanting as he walked by, oblivious to everything, Steve included. Steve felt a strong urge give him a good push and wake him up. It would be worth a grounding to know what the heck was going on.
But before he could decide, his plan was interrupted by a loud croak, or maybe a loud burp. The next thing he knew; a huge dark cloud came streaming out of the massive hole in the ground. The cloud spread out despite the lack of wind, like smoke from the Fourth of July, all white and blue. Even in the weak light, Steve could see it fan out. When it hit him, he jumped back and almost fell again. Oh, how it stank! It was like a Mexican food fart multiplied a thousand times! In a very twisted eleven-year-old boy way, it was superb. In fact, as he wiped the tears from his eyes, Steve wondered if he could somehow bottle it.
He tried to investigate the hole that was spewing the sulfuric cloud, but every step closer magnified the foul factor, and there was a limit to what even he could tolerate. He gave up and retreated to the truck to find his father.
His dad was already replacing the final barrels, so Steve hurried to get into the truck before he was left behind. At this point, he didn’t even care if he made too much noise. He opened the door, jumped in, and yanked the grinding metal close. Before he could stuff himself behind the front seat, he saw his dad look directly at him. Steve figured, “So what? If he was going to catch me, he would have already.” Steve was prepared to get caught, but not for what happened next.
Clear as day, Steve heard his name, “Ssssttteeeeeve.” However, it wasn’t his dad talking; it wasn’t really anyone talking. The voice was something inside his own head. It repeated itself, “Ssssttteeeeeve.” Not cool, Steve wanted to yell! Voices that weren’t there—not okay.
A few seconds later, his dad climbed in and Steve dropped to the floor to cover up again with the rain slicker. The ignition started after a few complaints from the engine, and then “Owner of a Lonely Heart” started playing on the radio. Roger had given up chanting to hum along to the melody. The truck backed away from the smelly sinkhole until the rear tires met a real road. Steve sighed aloud, then froze, realizing he had no idea when his dad would snap out of it. He sort of hoped it would be soon, though, because he really didn’t think it was safe for a zombie to drive.
Joy and Justin were not going to believe this, he told himself. No one would believe this. First the birds, then the snoring mountain, and his dad’s trance, the toxic cloud, and then the voice. Even he couldn’t believe it, but he’d tell them anyway. As his best friends, they were obligated to listen, just as Steve was obligated to share anything weird, regardless of what it was. Suddenly, he heard it again, “Sssssttttteeeeve.” He pulled the slicker tightly over his head. Maybe he wouldn’t tell them about the voice.
Chapter 5
Steve loved living in Crescent City, but it had one huge flaw: it rained all the time, and when it didn’t, it was foggy. Today, however, the fog was a fortunate thing because it hid him as he slipped out of the truck and into the house. His dad had already gotten out and had headed directly for the shower, which allowed Steve to sneak into the mud room and strip off his gunky shoes and wet socks.
While making as little noise as possible, he avoided the bathroom light down the hall and entered his room free and clear. He removed the rest of his muddy clothes and shoved them under his bed; he could slide them in with the rest of the laundry in a day or two. More than likely, though, he’d forget and they’d get discovered during one of his mother’s infrequent bedroom health inspections. By then, though, he’d probably have legitimately forgotten how they got there.
Steve climbed into bed. He was not exactly clean, but he’d gone to bed dirtier. He hoped his mom would forget that he had a bath last night and not question the dried mud on his wrists and ankles. Maybe he could get into the bathroom after his father was done, before anyone else was up. As he lay there waiting for the house to rise, he tried to make sense out of what he had seen. Unfortunately, the whole incident defied explanation.
He really needed to tell someone. He wondered how his best friends would react to “See, my dad turns into a superhuman robot and feeds this big stinking hole out in the forest.” He certainly couldn’t tell his parents, since he would have to fess up about sneaking along. And then there was the fact that his dad was part of the problem. That left his sister, Dani; no way! The only people he could trust were his best friends, Joy and Justin. After all, they’d believed him when he told them they were all being bombarded with radiation coming from the new prison. How else could the banana slugs that scooted around in the woods get so big? They were like giant slimy, mustard-covered hotdogs. Of course, Justin Googled it and found out that was how they grew. Maybe he wouldn’t tell Justin, only Joy.
He was still working out what to do when he heard his mother calling, “Steve, I made some oatmeal. Come get it while it’s hot!” Steve flipped back the covers and poked out into the hall for a look at the bathroom; all clear. Score! “Okay Mom. Be there as soon as I use the bathroom.”
It took Steve a while to scrub off all the dried mud. It was in his hair and on his neck and arms. By the time he made it out of the bathroom, his mom was about to walk out of the house. “Gotta go, Steve, your dad’s waiting in the truck,” she said with a quick peck on his cheek, then stopped to thumb a fleck on his face that he must have missed. “What’d you get into? Never mind, I don’t want to know. I have to go. Call your dad if you need anything and don’t let Dani sleep for more than another 30 minutes. She’ll miss her summer school bus.”
“Ah, Mom, can’t you get her up before you leave?” Steve asked.
“Not now, I’m running too late,” she replied.
As his mother started out the door, he tried once more, “But, she’ll miss breakfast!”
“She can eat at school. Now, I gotta go or I’m late. Love you!” she yelled before getting into the truck with his dad.
Having only one vehicle meant Steve’s parents both had to leave early. Steve stepped on the porch and waved them off, but his dad rolled down his window. “Hey, make sure your sister doesn’t miss her bus, or you’ll be stuck babysitting.” That was enough of a threat to motivate Steve. However, his dad offered a further incentive, “And don’t worry about coming out to the
shop. Take the day off.”
Steve saw his mom tugging on his dad’s sleeve, “Okay, bye Son.”
After a few bites of the bland oatmeal left on the table, Steve contemplated adding a few more spoonfuls of brown sugar to make it edible. But no, you could salvage cream of wheat with a ton of sugar, but oatmeal? Blah! He scraped the wholesome concoction into the trash and retrieved the emergency box of Captain Crunch with Crunch Berries he kept hidden in his closet. It was a little stale because of the ocean air, but soggy Captain Crunch still beat out healthy oatmeal any day.
After slurping down the green and pink stained milk, Steve contemplated what he was going to do with a day off. First, he had to wake up the frizzy, red-headed monster. Even though she was a head shorter than Steve, she was pure evil—especially if woken up prematurely—and had hit him more than once for trying. Steve wondered if a day off was worth waking her up. He shook his head; the sooner he got her on the bus, the sooner he could contact his best friends and tell them what was going on.
“Dani, get up. You have school,” Steve hollered from the kitchen. Nothing. He knew it wouldn’t be that easy. He went to her room next and stuck his head in. “Dani, you have to get up. Now!” No movement, a bad sign.
He tentatively approached her bed and poked the small exposed leg sticking out of the covers. An equally small arm slid out of the blanket and waved him away. He sighed to himself, knowing what he had to do next. He reached over and took hold of a corner of the blanket, turned his feet toward the door, and yanked. He had enough of a lead to reach the door and pull it shut before a screaming Dani smacked into it.
It took almost all of Steve’s discretionary candy to get the redheaded tyrant up, dressed, and out the door. When the bus finally turned the corner, Steve, giddy with relief, forgot himself and attempted to help Dani off the porch.
“Don’t touch me!” Dani exclaimed as she squirmed away from him, “I can go by myself!”
“Fine, but hurry up or you miss it and Mom will have to come back and take you,” he lied. No way was he going to tell her she’d have to stay home and he’d have to watch her. She might do it out of spite.
Dani ran up to the bus when she saw one of her friends in the window. She turned around and stuck her tongue out at Steve before she climbed aboard. Steve shook his head and did the mental math of how many years Dani had left until she left for college, or got married, or joined the Army. Whatever as long as it was far, far away.
Back in the kitchen, he dialed the house phone mounted on the wall, “Hi, it’s Steve. You up?”
“What? No, I’m still asleep and I’m dreaming that someone called the house at 7:30 in the morning during summer vacation,” Joy replied. Joy was quick, Steve had to admit, even when groggy. He ignored the sarcasm.
“Oh, sorry,” Steve said. “I’ve been up a while. Hey, you want to do something today?”
Joy hesitated, “Let me call you back after my mom gets around. Dad’s already left for work so I can’t ask him.”
He was about to reply when the phone hung up. Joy’s house was different from his, or anyone else he knew, really. Her dad was all right; he taught something at the junior college, but, more importantly, he was the boys’ basketball coach. Sometimes Steve got to sit with Joy right behind the team. Joy’s mom, though? She was just crazy. Not like most parents, who were simply weird, like his, but certifiably crazy. She took drugs for it and everything, according to Joy.
Because he wasn’t sure if Joy would be able to do anything, Steve went ahead and called up Justin, too. Unlike Joy, Justin was an early riser and told Steve to come on over. Steve was about to go outside and get his bike from the tool shed when the phone rang. “My mom was up,” Joy said. “She said to let her know what we wanted to do today.”
Steve wasn’t sure what to say. Helen, Joy's mom, was notorious for making promises she wouldn’t, or couldn’t, keep. She had gotten their hopes up before only to dash them when she all of a sudden couldn’t get out of bed. Still, Joy was adamant, “Really, Steve, she wants to take us somewhere.” Then in a quieter voice, “I think the new meds are working.”
Steve didn’t know much about medication, but he knew that Joy’s mom needed some to function, and that, even with them, she didn’t function very well. Sometimes Joy stayed home from school to look after her. Steve and Justin were the only ones who knew about it. So with the forgiveness that only a bunch of bored kids could grant, Steve and Joy decided to give her another chance.
“What sounds good to you?” Joy asked.
“What about Eureka?” Steve suggested. “We could go to the mall and maybe see a movie!”
Joy hesitated, “Ah…I know she asked us what we wanted to do, but Eureka is a long way. I think maybe we should think of something around here.”
Steve reconsidered, remembering last year when Joy’s mom was going to take them to Medford to Christmas shop for their folks. She’d made it all the way to Cave Junction before she had a panic attack and Steve had to call his mom to pick them all up. He nodded, then realized Joy couldn’t see him, “Why don’t we try Smith River?”
“Yeah, that’d be fun.” Joy affirmed, “The water’ll probably be warm enough to actually swim.”
“Awesome!” Steve replied and then added, “Hey, I almost forgot that I called Justin this morning. Can he come along?”
“Yeah, I’m sure Mom won’t mind. But he better not read the whole time. Go to his house and we’ll pick you both up there,” Joy answered.
“What time?” he asked.
“Hang on, I’ll ask.”
Steve waited, stretching out the curly telephone cord as far as he could and then twanging it like a guitar string. He didn’t play the guitar, but that was okay, he could make guitar noises that were almost as good.
“Hey, you there?” Joy’s voice startled him.
“Yeah, I’m here.”
“My mom says the water’s too cold before lunchtime. How about noon?” Joy asked.
“Cool.”
“Cool.”
Chapter 6
Joy’s mom was as good as her word; better in fact. She arrived early in her bright yellow Volkswagen to Justin’s house and ran them all through Burger King before heading out of town. This was a treat for Steve because his family didn’t do fast food. Along the way, Joy’s mom talked non-stop to Joy, who was sitting up front, and, every once in a while, would turn her head back and say something to the boys. Steve would simply nod and smile, while Justin ignored her completely. It wasn’t that the boys were rude, it was just that in their experience Joy’s mom wasn’t really interested in what they had to say. She would ask something, answer it herself, and move on before Steve could even say a word.
In fact, Helen was so busy talking that she missed her turn and had to continue north on Lake Earl Drive instead of taking the Redwood Highway, which was faster. But Steve didn’t mind too much, as long as they eventually got to Smith River. Justin had his face in a Manga comic and was oblivious anyway. Every once in a while, Steve would pull him away from the story to point out a weird tree or someone’s cow. They even spotted a couple of deer.
Both the highway and Lake Earl took them to South Bank Road. Steve sat up straighter now that they were close. He tapped Justin to get his attention, but all he got back was, “Seen it.” They all had, of course. But for Steve, Smith River was kind of magical. The eternal pocket of fog that kept Crescent City hostage had no power here. Bright sunshine glimmered off the river, which, here, grew both wide and shallow before joining the Pacific, and this was the spot where everyone came with their jet skis, inner tubes, and tackle boxes. On the opposite shore, rugged rocks and trees made up a sheer cliff hundreds of feet high. Nesting in those trees were all sorts of wildlife, including bald eagles and woodpeckers, whose rat-a-tat song echoed along the river. This time of year, the water was barely warm enough in the shallows for people, like Steve and his friends, to play. Already little kids were splashing away while their mothers oiled
up on the mini beaches that lay interspersed between the river rocks and the bushes.
Once on South Bank Road, Steve could see glimpses of shimmering water through the trees. Cars were parked here and there on the shoulder in the gravel. Helen kept going until Joy pointed to a spot where no one was around except an old man angling in the late morning sun. Joy’s mom let them out. “Will you all be okay if I don’t come back for a few hours? I need to run to Brookings so I’ll be a while.” It really wasn’t a question, so none of them bothered answering. “Okay, bye!”
Helen did a smart three-point turn, blew a kiss to Joy, and disappeared in a cloud of grey dust. Steve felt a momentary pang of guilt because he knew his folks wouldn’t have let him hang out at the river without an adult. When he’d asked permission to go, it was with the understanding Joy’s mom would be with them. But it wasn’t his fault she’d changed the plans. Conscience eased, he grinned at his two best friends. Hours! Yes!
The trio grabbed their towels and looked for the furthest spot away from the old man. It wasn’t that they disliked the elderly, but sometimes the old fishermen mumbled to themselves, or worse, they actually tried to have a conversation. They also needed to find a place devoid of teenagers because three new middle schoolers all alone might be too tempting a target.
They found what they were looking for a few minutes later, a stretch of bank far enough upwind to avoid the stench of bait, but sufficiently removed from the only demons around—a group of teens riding a tandem wave runner upriver. They hung their towels on the limbs of a tree that had sort of sagged into the water and made a quick inspection of the area.
Joy was the first to shed her sneakers and wade calf-high into the water. “Come on you sissy-boys and get in here,” she demanded. Joy peeled off her t-shirt, bundled it up, and threw it at Justin. The blonde girl had always had a mischievous streak, especially when it came to tormenting their bookish friend. Joy was also the tallest kid in their class, all arms and legs and pointy elbows and knees—lethal appendages as far Steve was concerned. Even a healthy fear of Joy, however, wasn’t quite enough to make Steve and Justin rush into the frigid water.