Popcorn Thief

by Cutter, Leah

  “You and your creatures and your ghosts!” Karl exploded. “I hate ’em all! Everything was normal until you started competing against me.”

  “What do you mean?” Franklin asked, confused.

  “I won that blue ribbon prize for years before you got interested in popping corn,” Karl proclaimed, waving at his wall of ribbons. “I won it by working harder and smarter than all the other farmers around here, by tending my fields and making my land the best. Then you came along.”

  Franklin was sure that if they’d been outside, Karl would have spat onto the ground. As it was, his face looked all squinted up, like he’d kept something bad tasting on his tongue.

  “Weird things started happening, right away, that first year. It was like my field was haunted or something. That part you saw blasted apart? It’s always been a problem. Corn won’t grow there, or it grows too fast and gets brittle.”

  “It’s gotta be the creature,” Franklin said. “What made it get so strong suddenly? Why’d it go after Lexine?” He paused, then asked, “Did that businessman, Earl Jackson, come to see you?”

  Karl looked away at first, and Franklin was afraid he wouldn’t answer. But eventually he turned his head back and said, “Yeah. Stupid businessman. Wanted to see about renting my fields. He told me he could grow anything in my fields. Swore up and down that he’d done some kind of analysis, and that the soil on my land was better than all the other farms. Not just this county, in all of Kentucky.”

  “Is it?” Franklin asked. He knew something was different about Karl’s fields, that he always had the best yield.

  Karl shrugged. “Could be.” He sighed. “I know I worked hard enough at it. But…I don’t think that was it. I think there was something else he wanted.”

  “The creature’s nest,” Franklin said.

  “Would you just shut up about that creature?” Karl said. Then he paused. “He did ask about Lexine when he was here. Wanted to know if it was true that she could see spirits. Raise them.”

  “Really?” Franklin asked. He—and the cops and everyone else—had assumed that Earl Jackson had only cared about Lexine’s land. “Lexine didn’t raise spirits. She tried to calm them.”

  “Like I’d know,” Karl said. “He took notes about things in his little notebook. It looked like it had a leather case around it.”

  “I doubt Sheriff Thompson will let me see it,” Franklin said, musing to himself. “But I could ask if he’s seen it, if there’s a mention of Lexine and spirits.”

  Karl looked at Franklin. “You really do believe in these ghosts and spirits of yours, don’t you.” He sounded like he pitied Franklin.

  “I do,” Franklin said. How could he not believe what he saw? What he’d felt, those times he’d passed through a being? “And so should you. You got something in your fields, Karl, that’s killing folks. And a ghost who might have loved you, who’s trying to stop you from getting killed yourself.”

  Karl refused to say another word until the cops showed up.

  Chapter Twelve

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE HE WENT THROUGH WITH IT,” Franklin said, looking helplessly at his stained fingertips. Now the police had his prints.

  If they ever printed that corn that had been next to Lexine’s body, they’d know the prints was his.

  “Don’t fret about it,” Darryl said. “Now you’re just part of the family.” He’d been the one Franklin had called to come and fetch him from the jail.

  The sheriff hadn’t been there. But Franklin had left a note for him, asking about the journal of Earl Jackson, and if it had mentioned Lexine or any spirits.

  “My bike’s still up at Karl’s house,” Franklin groused as they walked out of the county jail. “We’re gonna have to stop by and get it.”

  “His place is on route sixty-two, right?” Darryl asked.

  “Yeah,” Franklin said slowly.

  “Well, payback’s a bitch,” Darryl said as he got his shotgun out from under the seat and hung it in the gun rack in the back window.

  “All Karl did was have me arrested for trespassing,” Franklin said. “There’s no need to go and shoot him.” Maybe Franklin should have called May, but he’d been afraid all she’d have done for the entire drive home would be to yell at him.

  “Wasn’t him I was gonna hunt for,” Darryl said. “Let’s see what that creature of yours thinks about being blasted with rock salt.”

  “Karl already tried that,” Franklin pointed out. “All he did was make the thing mad.” He had the scars to prove it.

  “Two steps ahead of you, Cuz,” Darryl said with a grin. “It’s rock salt, laced with antibiotics. If I get a good body shot, may actually kill it. Now, are you finished with your bellyaching so we can go get this thing?”

  Franklin sighed and shook his head. He knew this was a bad idea.

  He also knew, though, that if he insisted on Darryl driving him home, all Darryl would do is turn right around and go hunting it on his own.

  “Only for a few hours, say, until sundown,” Franklin said.

  “We’ll be home and three beers in by then,” Darryl promised.

  * * *

  Karl was in his driveway this time when Darryl and Franklin drove up. He wiped his hands on his rag and picked up a socket wrench as they got out of Darryl’s truck. “Didn’t get enough of jail?” Karl sneered at Franklin. He stood loose and ready to fight.

  “I left my bike here,” Franklin said.

  “I know. I threw it out on the highway,” Karl said.

  “You what?” Franklin said. He whirled to go check.

  Darryl caught Franklin’s arm. “He’s lying, Cuz,” Darryl said. “He’s got it stored up here. He was waiting for you to come back and get it.”

  Franklin turned back to Karl. After another long moment, Karl gave him a huge grin, showing surprisingly white, straight teeth. “You sure are gullible.”

  “You had me arrested,” Franklin pointed out.

  “Sheriff said you’d refused to get printed before. I was just helping him out,” Karl said, still grinning. “That way, I can prove it was you who stole my corn. Got your fingerprints on file.”

  “I ain’t been stealing your corn, Karl,” Franklin said.

  “So you say. And what do you want?” Karl asked, addressing Darryl.

  “You go hunting, right?” Darryl asked Karl. “Get your deer every year, don’t you?”

  “Sure,” Karl said easily. “You do, too.”

  “I aim to go hunting in your fields for that creature,” Darryl told Karl. “Can I have your permission to do that?”

  Karl looked at Darryl, then at Franklin. “You got him convinced there’s a thing out there too?”

  Darryl rolled up one of his sleeves to show Karl his bandages. “I know it’s there.”

  Karl looked from Franklin to Darryl and back again. “You two fools are so convinced, I’m not about to stop you. Go waste your time.”

  “We have your permission?” Darryl asked again.

  “Sure, sure,” Karl said. “I think y’all are crazy, though.”

  Darryl walked back to his truck to get his shotgun. After he came back with it, Franklin turned back to Karl. “You want to come with?”

  “I got too many danged things to do,” Karl said heatedly. “But yeah. I do. Give me a sec.”

  Karl disappeared inside the house, then came out, rolling Franklin’s bicycle, with a shotgun over his own shoulder. “Just in case you two idiots end up shooting at me.”

  Once they got to the field, Darryl crouched down and smoothed away the dirt at the edge of the corn field.

  “What’s he doing?” Karl asked.

  “Tracking,” Franklin said.

  “Your whole family’s weird,” Karl declared.

  Darryl entered the field, with Franklin and Karl on his heels. Unerringly, Darryl went directly to the nest that Franklin had found earlier. He circled the area, moving with that grace and speed Franklin had seen before.

  Without warnin
g, Darryl took off running.

  “Where the hell’s he going?” Karl asked as he raced after him.

  “No idea,” Franklin said.

  Darryl moved effortlessly through the stalks of corn, flowing into spaces Franklin couldn’t see, while Franklin got slapped in the face by leaves of corn.

  It wasn’t long before they lost him.

  “Do you have any idea where he’s going?” Franklin asked Karl. “Any other weird spots on your property?”

  “The only weird thing on my property is you and your cousin,” Karl said.

  A shot rang out.

  “This way,” Karl said. “Back toward the house.”

  Franklin followed Karl as quickly as he could, trying to protect his arms and his face from the sharp-edged leaves. Hope filled him. Maybe they would be home and three beers in by sunset.

  Darryl stood alone on the back lawn. He raised his shotgun triumphantly. “Got it!” he exclaimed.

  Franklin looked around the property carefully. He didn’t see anything there. “Got what?”

  “I got it. Solid body hit. I’m sure of it,” Darryl said.

  “You’re lying,” Karl said. “You just fired a shot up in the air.”

  “I don’t lie. Not about hunting,” Darryl said coldly.

  “Where is it, then?” Franklin asked. He went over to the spot Darryl pointed to.

  Another of those long, brown vines lay twisting on the ground. “You winged it,” Franklin said, dread filling his gut. “I just hope there was enough antibiotics to make it go off and lick its wounds, not attack someone else.”

  “Hell yeah,” Darryl said. “I mighta killed it.”

  Franklin’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket. He fished it out and looked at the caller ID.

  Ray.

  “You didn’t,” Franklin said.

  * * *

  All three of them piled into the front of Darryl’s truck, Franklin in the center again. Grim and silent, Darryl sped his way to the Sorrels’ place. Fortunately, the gate was open.

  The creature was still there. Its long whips flayed the paths Adrianna had made Ray build, sending a hailstorm of sharp stones everywhere. Fallen branches, twigs, and bark lay twisted on the ground: Adrianna’s tree men no longer stood. All the artwork was shattered, from the pressed glass pieces to the mermaid to the pinwheels.

  “Shoot it!” Franklin told Darryl.

  Darryl fired off a shot as it was disappearing. The shot passed clean through and imbedded itself in the fence behind it.

  Franklin raced over to where Adrianna lay on the ground, half supported by Ray. “Call an ambulance!” he shouted.

  Adrianna’s face was all torn up. One of her arms didn’t seem to be attached right either. “Help’s on the way,” he told her and Ray. “Hang on.”

  “But it’ll be beautiful on the other side,” Adrianna said weakly.

  “Don’t go,” Ray whispered. “Please, my lady of light. Don’t leave me.”

  “I can’t stay,” Adrianna whispered. She turned her gaze away from Ray to Franklin. “You must fight it with love. Anything else will kill you too.”

  “No, Miss Adrianna,” Franklin said. “You can’t die. You can’t let it win.”

  “It won’t win. Not while there’s still love in the world,” Adrianna whispered.

  “She was driving it back,” Ray said. “You were so strong.” He looked up at Franklin. “Then it attacked me.”

  “I couldn’t help it,” Adrianna said. “I couldn’t let it get to you. I lost the love.”

  “I can’t lose you,” Ray said.

  “You won’t. I’ll still be here, waiting for you,” Adrianna said. “And…” she paused, blinking, then gave a great exhale.

  And she was gone.

  * * *

  When Sheriff Thompson arrived, he made a beeline for Franklin and pulled him aside. “What the hell happened?”

  The pain of Adrianna’s passing felt like a solid weight, pressing on Franklin’s lungs, making it hard to breathe. “We went hunting the thing. Darryl winged it, in Karl Metzger’s fields. So it came here.”

  “It came here?” the sheriff asked. “Why?” He still sounded like he didn’t believe anything Franklin was saying.

  Franklin nodded. “The last time Adrianna tried to fight it, using her power lines, she failed. It ended up being able to suck up a lot of the power she’d raised, and grew stronger. Maybe it decided to try that again, see whether she’d make it stronger, heal it.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss,” Sheriff Thompson said. “She was good people.”

  “She was,” Franklin said. “The best.”

  “You left me a message, asking about Earl Jackson’s notebook?” the sheriff asked.

  Franklin tried to put away his grief. “Yes, sir. According to Karl, Earl Jackson wasn’t just seeing Lexine about her land. He also was asking about her abilities, whether she could raise spirits.”

  “Is it possible this Earl Jackson brought this thing with him?”

  “That’s what I’ve been wondering. Was it part of him? And how did it get separated, and start attacking people?” Franklin shook his head.

  “Now, I know your cousin was a witch,” the sheriff said. “Praying to other gods and like that.”

  Franklin held onto his temper. It wouldn’t do him no good if he decked the sheriff. But he was gonna have to walk away if the sheriff kept talking like that.

  “I’ve been going through Earl Jackson’s notebook. There’s incantations to a goddess Bridget? Spells for demons. Prayers,” the sheriff said.

  “I wouldn’t know anything about those,” Franklin said. “But I know someone who would.”

  It wasn’t the best excuse to call Julie, but at least it was something.

  * * *

  Franklin showed up for work the next morning at the Kroger. His uniform scratched over the still healing cuts on his back, and he still didn’t feel like he was up to full strength. But he couldn’t stay away much longer, not if he still wanted to have a job.

  Charlene pulled Franklin to the side just after his morning break. They went up to her command center, where the black and white video screens showed the different parts of the store. Charlene wore her usual uniform—white shirt, black pants, and a big black belt with lots of pouches on it. She sat heavily in her chair, crossed her arms over her chest, and stared at Franklin, still standing in the doorway.

  “You been on the police scanner,” she told him. “Too much for my liking.”

  Franklin shrugged. “It weren’t all my fault,” he pointed out.

  “You even got arrested,” she said coldly.

  “I still can’t believe Karl Metzger went through with that,” Franklin complained. “I was trespassing, yes. But it was for a good cause.”

  “You’re getting on the wrong side of the law,” Charlene said. “And as your friend, I have to tell you, that worries me.”

  “Charlene, I’m not a criminal,” Franklin protested. Where was this coming from? Why was she giving him such a hard time?

  “There’s been talk of putting you on probation,” she told him sternly.

  “What?” Franklin asked, steamed. “Why would you do that?” Probation meant something would go in his employee record, and his file with Kroger was empty. He’d never been cited for being late or not combing his hair or breaking any of the rules.

  “I don’t like what’s been happening,” Charlene warned. “So you make sure it stops happening.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Franklin said bitterly. He’d thought he and Charlene were friends. Obviously, he’d been wrong. “Anything else?”

  “Franklin, I’m doing this for your own good,” Charlene said. “You’ll thank me for it, if you get yourself turned around.”

  “Yes, ma’am. I gotta go back to work,” Franklin said, backing up out of the office and going back down to the floor, where he tackled cleaning out the dried nuts stand.

  Why was Charlene being like that? Was it really becau
se of him being arrested? Or was it something else?

  Franklin chewed on the problem all day. Should he go talk to Charlene? Ask her what was going on? Or had he been as naïve as his cousins always claimed, and had she never been his friend?

  In the end, he decided not to say anything. It would be too embarrassing for both of them.

  Still, at the end of the day, as Franklin was getting ready to leave, he found Julie waiting for him at the end of checkout lane number three.

  “I didn’t know you was here,” Franklin told Julie as he came up.

  “Really?” Julie asked. “I told the store manager that I was here to pick you up.”

  “Huh. Well, I’ll only be a minute to change,” Franklin said. When he turned, he saw Charlene standing over near the produce section, staring at him.

  No, staring at Julie.

  He didn’t know how Charlene had found out about Julie. But Charlene knew everything about everyone. He should have realized.

  And he should have known that Charlene was sweet on him. Thinking back, it was obvious.

  He was the only one who’d ever been allowed up in her command center.

  He’d have to patch up that bridge later.

  Right now, he had to get changed and walk up the street to the sheriff’s office.

  * * *

  “You think that businessman was calling demons?” Julie asked as they walked slowly up the hill to the Judicial Center, past the real estate agency that was in another of the turn-of-the-century store fronts on Main Street. Twilight approached, and the light had dimmed, but the air still held the heat of the day.

  “Might have been,” Franklin said. “You know it was a creature that hurt me, right?” His heart was pounding in his chest. He blamed it on the hill they was climbing, ignoring how his hands might be shaking a little, too.

  Julie nodded. “I’d heard. Attacked your cousin, and killed a couple people now, right?”

  “Yeah. I gotta stop it. Somehow,” Franklin blurted out.

  “Why you?” Julie asked.

  It wasn’t part of his duty, like helping ghosts pass. But it was, still, at the same time. Franklin took a deep breath and gulped some air before he finally replied, “Because I can see it.”

  “And most folks can’t?” Julie asked.