by C. J. Skuse
Matt’s voice. “What if he gets out again? He’ll go straight to the cops.”
“No, he won’t. The police are already after them for everything else. Arson. Car theft. Armed robbery. I don’t think they’re going to care too much about a tiny case of kidnapping between family members amid all that, do you?”
“What if he won’t play ball? Goes on a hunger strike or something?”
“It won’t get that far. I told you, Beau’s a pussycat; he won’t cause us any trouble.”
“Yeah but—”
“Matthew, darling, I’m getting a little tired of all these arbitrary questions. Don’t you trust me?”
“Yeah …”
“That almost sounded convincing. I’m starting to think your heart isn’t in this.”
“I just gotta think about the pitfalls, Ginny. I don’t wanna go back to jail. I wanna go straight now.”
“Yes, and won’t it be nice when all this is over to go straight with millions of dollars in the bank? Your own business?”
Silence. The radio went loud again. Then down again.
Matt’s voice. “What if she comes back to get him?”
“She won’t. Darling, she’s been away at boarding school for months. She doesn’t even know we bought the house. She won’t have a clue where we are. And he won’t step a toe out of line.”
“But if she does find him …”
“Matthew, if I ever see that girl’s face again, I’ll make sure I never have to see that girl’s face again.”
“What does that mean?”
No answer. I didn’t need to hear anymore. If it came down to it, our grandmother would kill us both, of that I had no doubt. She had nothing to lose and everything to gain.
I had to get off that truck. I twisted my head around to see a wooden board propped up against the cab. They couldn’t see me. I wrenched my hands, but they wouldn’t budge. The rope must have been coiled around them at least six times. I wrenched my feet, but the rope was too tight and I was too weak. I couldn’t even open my mouth with the tape there. I lay back and closed my eyes and felt the tears coming. There was a clattering from the other side of the truck. The blade from Matt’s hedge trimmer, a large jagged blade, was jutting out of the side of his toolbox. I writhed over to it and held my hands up to the blade and started to rub against it, trying to get some friction going.
Rubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrub rubrubrubrub …
Every breath I took into my nose was laced with the stench of hot, rotten grass and gasoline. Sweat beads trickled down my forehead and into my eyes, but I didn’t stop rubbing that rope until I felt it fray.
I lay back down to catch my breath for a second, rubbing my forehead against a wooden board to wipe away the sweat. Then I started again.
Rubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrubrub rubrubrubrub …
A strand from one coil of the rope came free, making it easier to cut through the rest of the pieces. Swip swip swip went the rope as it loosened and fell off my wrists. The relief was amazing. I had my hands back. I arched them back and forth and stretched my fingers out. Lying back, I brought my ankles to the blade and worked on the ties until my legs were unburdened by rope, too, then stopped and caught my breath again, my chest rising and jumping with the heaving from my lungs. My shirt was soaked through with sweat, and I pulled the neck up over my face to wipe it. Must have been a hundred and five degrees under that tarp. Another hour and I bet I would’ve cooked under that scratchy sheet.
“I love this song!” I heard Matt shout.
The music got loud again inside the cab.
It was the song from the dance machine. I was sure of it.
I snaked under the tarp and crawled my way along the truck, poking my head up at the other end. The sunlight was blinding outside. I craned my neck over and looked ahead at the cab. With that board blocking the back window, I couldn’t see Virginia or Matt, so hopefully they couldn’t see me, either. Then I looked over the tailgate of the truck bed to see the desert road stretching out behind us. It was like the road we’d taken from LA to Vegas, but it definitely wasn’t the same one. The mountains were closer and the blacktop was darker. The truck was moving pretty fast, but there wasn’t another car for miles. Not in the rearview.
I closed my eyes. “Come on. Come on,” I muttered. I could feel the tears coming again. It was all my carpe diem moments rolled into one. Every time I’d had to take the plunge into a cold swimming pool. Every time I’d had to walk into class after summer vacation and look into O’Donnell’s eyes. Every time Paisley had pulled the gun out. It was being back on the Stratosphere, about to go on Big Shot.
And I wonder…
I heaved my upper body over the tailgate of the truck. It wobbled. Any moment, the chain could have snapped and I could have fallen out onto the road. The tears came. I jabbed myself in my stomach with my fist. “Come on!” I muttered louder. I punched myself again.
If anything could ever feel this real forever…
I had to get on that road. I had to stop going where I was going. I had to be free of our grandmother.
Gotta promise not to stop when I say when.
I had to jump off the truck.
PAISLEY
TWENTY-THREE
CAESARS PALACE JUMBOTRON,
THE STRIP,
LAS VEGAS, NEVADA
“Oh my God! Paisley? Is it really you, Paisley? Guys, it’s Paisley!”
“I’m sorry, what?” I said as this fat, straggly black-haired woman darted toward me, her sandals slapping on the sidewalk as she ran. She had a lip ring, and emblazoned across her chest was the black-and-white screen shot of mine and Beau’s faces from the security camera at Doh-Nutty’s. A big girl about the same age as me and wearing a black AC/DC T-shirt just like mine was sitting on a bench eating a burrito but dropped it and ran over. Then another kid, a skinny blond boy in a marching band jacket with big gold buttons, trotted up behind her.
“Oh my God, this is a total honor,” said AC/DC. “You and your brother, you’re like … our heroes. You’re legends!”
“We’ve been following your story, and we’ve set up this website for the Argent Army, which is, like, this group of kids who just adore you,” said Lip Ring. She had gray strands in her hair and a huge boil next to one of her nostrils. “We got, like, seven thousand members on the site. The hits go up every day.”
“Seven thousand members?” I said.
“Yeah, and there’s other sites, too. There’s TotallyArgent.net and Wonder Twins Inc, too. You two are idols. Everybody loves you. Well, kids love you. We came here from Ohio. I’m Vicky, Vic for short, this is my daughter, Eliza, and this is Eliza’s boyfriend, Robbie. I remember you guys from the first time around, when you went missing. We sent teddy bears to the hospital in Jersey. Oh my God, is this your dad?”
“Uh, yeah,” I said.
“Where’s Beau?” said Marching Band.
“He’s …” I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t think of a lie, either, so I just came out with it. “Our grandmother kidnapped him.”
All three of them laughed hysterically, then stopped when they saw my face. I thought Marching Band was gonna start bawling.
“We thought you were joking,” said AC/DC. “Oh my God, we’re so sorry. When?”
“'Bout three hours ago,” I said, reaching for my dad’s hand.
Lip Ring snorted through her nose like a dragon. “We knew it. We said when we saw her on the news, that woman won’t let this lie. She’ll go after them. Didn’t I say that, Eliza?”
“Yeah,” said AC/DC. She opened her bag and got out a rolled-up copy of Teen Times. “Could you sign this, please?”
She handed it to me with a small Sharpie. Me and my brother’s grainy black-and-white faces were on the front, and the headline read, BONNIE AND CLYDE FOR THE NEW MILLENIUM. I scrawled my signature across my own face. Marching Band offered me a small thick notebook plastered with pictures of me and Beau
cut neatly from newspapers. I looked through it and found my own page to sign. He had written a short poem titled “Paisley’s Ode.” I can’t remember much about it, but he likened me to a starfish and I liked that. I scribbled underneath, So not worth it. Lots of love, Paisley xo.
He smiled like a dolphin and eagerly showed the other two. “Look what I got. Look what she wrote. Oh wow. Oh wow.”
When I’d finished my signing and photos, the three of them stood there looking at me. I didn’t know what they were expecting.
“What? You want me to open a vein or something?” I said. They all laughed again. Then Lip Ring looked at Dad, who had just been standing there by my side the whole time.
“Is this really your dad? Is this Buddy?” she asked. I nodded. She pulled him toward her and hugged him like they were good old friends. “I’ve been following these kids since they were little and they were on Oprah, and when we heard what they were doing now, we had to come here and show our support. They’ve done all this for you. Oh my God! It’s an honor to meet you, sir.”
“A real honor,” AC/DC echoed.
Lip Ring ranted on. “Your kids are amazing, always have been. My sister lives in Jersey and she went out with one of the search parties when they went missing. Never thought they’d find them. But they did! And here you are.”
Marching Band turned to my dad. “Can I shake your hand?”
Three hours ago, he was rooting through trash cans and bathing in public fountains. Now he was getting called “sir” and having his hand shaken? And I was amazing? I didn’t know what was happening. I thought it might be some prank. I turned and walked away, pulling Dad along with me.
“Wait! Where are you going?” called Lip Ring, and the three of them caught up with us. I kept walking. So did they.
“I’m sorry, but I’m not this big hero, all right? All me and Beau did was hold up some candy stores, and we only did that to get on the news. So we could tell our dad we love him. So we could find him. Okay? I’ve found my dad now. That’s all I wanted. You can get on with your lives now. Stop stalking me.”
I kept on walking. Pretty soon, I noticed they’d stopped following. So had Dad. I turned around. They were all standing in the same spot a couple of yards away, staring at me.
“Dad?” I said.
“Paisley, apologize. These people have come a long way to see you.”
“What? I didn’t ask them to, Dad….”
“Paisley …”
“Okay, I’m sorry. But, I didn’t ask for any of this, okay?”
“But you got it,” said Dad, walking toward me. “So what are you gonna do with it?”
I shrugged.
“We’ve got a car,” said Lip Ring. “If we can drive you guys anywhere, it’d be a total honor. Do you know where your grandmother might have taken Beau?”
“No. Well, I have a hunch, but it’s risky….”
“We know the risks,” said AC/DC. “If your grandmother wants to kill us, it’d be a total honor.”
“Yeah,” said Marching Band. “We don’t mind getting shot. I’ll get shot for you.” He bowed his head like he was totally embarrassed.
“You’re so cool,” said Lip Ring. “Everybody loves you guys. Well, everybody under fifty, at least.”
I shook my head. “But I don’t get it. Why so stalky? Just ’cause we got a gun and there’s some montage of us on YouTube with a Bon Jovi soundtrack?”
“It’s The Who, actually,” said AC/DC.
“'Baba O’Riley'?” said Dad.
“Yeah.” AC/DC smiled.
“Cool,” he said. “Classic.”
Look at my dad, I thought, down with the kids.
“We just want to help you, like you helped us,” said Marching Band. “We want to show you our gratitude. Please. We could help you find Beau.”
“How have we helped you? Me and Beau are thieves, guys. We’re not rock stars, we’re not heart surgeons. We stole from people to get on TV. That’s all. We’re not exactly role models.”
“We don’t want role models,” said Lip Ring. “We’re sick of role models. You’re the coolest thing since Bonnie and Clyde. It gives us all hope.”
“Yeah. And I know what it’s like to lose your dad. I’d do anything to get mine back.” AC/DC shot Lip Ring a knowing glance and the woman reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze.
“And the governor here hates you,” added Marching Band. “He says you’re an example of everything that’s wrong with America.”
“Praise indeed,” said Dad.
“I think you need us,” said Lip Ring. “We could really help you out.”
I looked at Dad. He raised his eyebrows, like he always used to when he was waiting for me to make up my mind which cereal I wanted for breakfast. It was always the chocolate one.
“Okay, guys,” I said. I remembered what Beau had told me about one of the Hansel and Gretel stories. How they got out of the woods on a white duck. This was our white duck. “We’re in your hands, I guess.”
As the three of them leaped up and down in utter joy, they didn’t look much like white ducks, though. More like baby black rabbits.
So we went to find Lip Ring’s car. It was beyond cool. A black Trans Am with scratches and dents and zebra-print seat covers. When we were on the road, Marching Band told me they were turning it into the Wonder Mobile, black-and-white themed throughout, and they were gonna follow us in it everywhere, wherever we went. Keeping their distance, of course. They didn’t want us to get caught. They just wanted to be near us. Batshit, I tell you. Totally batshit.
Somewhere on the I-15 to Salt Lake City, Lip Ring said she needed gas, so we pulled over at a little rest stop called Moriarty’s Diner. Dad was starving, so Lip Ring fronted us some cash and me and him went inside to get some pie to go. The TV was on in the corner.
CNN BREAKING NEWS:
WONDER TWINS BANDIT FOUND IN UTAH DESERT
“Welcome back to Headline News. I’m Kim Slaughter, and we take you live now to the Dixie Regional Medical Center in Utah, where Jake Williamson is on the scene. What’s the latest, Jake?”
“Thanks, Kim. Yes, I’m standing outside the hospital where Beau Argent, one of the Argent twins who have been causing mayhem in the city of Las Vegas over the last couple of weeks by holding up candy stores, has been admitted. Early reports say he has suffered head trauma after having jumped or been pushed out of a moving vehicle. He was found on the roadside off I-15 near Highway 9 around five thirty this morning by a fisherman heading to the reservoir there, and was brought here to the Dixie Regional Medical Center in Saint George.”
“For anyone watching who may be unaware of the Argent twins, Jake, can you tell us a little more about them?”
“Well, Kim, in recent weeks these kids have become kind of Bonnie and Clyde figures for a whole new generation, and as you can see behind me there are literally hundreds of young people who have gathered to show their support for Beau Argent and to light candles, wave banners, and wait for news of his condition. They’re also waiting to see if his sister, Paisley, shows up. She has, perhaps, been the more vocal of the pair, and in every robbery it has been Paisley calling the shots, so to speak. Last night it is believed the twins pulled off their last robbery at Cornucopia in Las Vegas, before firing shots at a popcorn machine and causing thousands of dollars’ worth of damage. There are a lot of very worried fans of the Argent twins, but you can bet store clerks all over Vegas won’t be saying any prayers for these two right now, Kim….”
“Thanks, Jake. More details on that story as it develops. In other news …”
“They said head trauma, Dad. He could be brain-dead. It’s all my fault. I did this to him. He was better off without me….”
Dad looked me straight in the eyes. “You just did what you thought was best,” he said. “It was her. It was your grandmother who did this to him, not you. I mean, we don’t know for sure whether she pushed him out….”
“She did, I know she did. She lef
t him for dead. If he hadn’t been found and taken to the hospital …”
“Yeah, but he was. And now doctors will be doing everything they can to make him better. You gotta hold on to that, Paisley. And we’re gonna go get him. Okay? Are you with me?”
I nodded. We walked back out to the parking lot with our pies.
“It’s okay to be scared sometimes, Paisley.”
“No, it’s not. I need to be angry.”
“Why?”
“Because then I can kill her. If I see her again, I’ll kill her. I need to be angry.”
He put the box of pies on the hood of a car and took my hands. Somewhere inside me, a plug was being pulled and, like water in a bathtub, all the pressure was draining out of me.
“You still got the gun you did the robberies with?” he asked.
I nodded.
“Let me have it.”
I tucked my hand into the back of my jeans and grabbed the Eclipse. I handed it to Dad.
He shook his head. “This can only lead to no good, baby. Okay? I don’t want you getting into no more trouble.” He tucked it into his own belt. I hadn’t realized it until then, but he was still wearing his wedding ring.
“Come on,” he said, picking up the box again, and we ran to the Wonder Mobile and told the White Ducks about the news report.
“How many fans are out front at the hospital?” asked Marching Band, biting his bottom lip.
“They didn’t say, but from the pictures it looked like a lot, maybe a hundred,” Dad answered.
“Were they all wearing black and white?”
“Most of ’em, yeah. Why?”
“That’ll be Totally Argent,” said Lip Ring. “One of our sister sites. If it was Wonder Twins Inc, they’d be wearing candy colors, and the Argent Army wear whatever they want. They’re not dictated to by anyone, not even you guys.”
“God,” I said, “I’ve created a monster.”
Lip Ring started the engine as I squeezed into the back with Marching Band and AC/DC, and my dad fiddled with the radio from the passenger seat.
“There were police there, too. And doctors and press. How the hell are we gonna get past all of them and find Beau?” said Dad.