The Other Side of Elsewhere

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The Other Side of Elsewhere Page 12

by Brett McKay


  “Are you sure?”

  “No. I guess we just take our chances.”

  “And you think this is going to work?”

  We had left the library together and stopped at my house to pick up my walkie-talkies and duct tape.

  “I’m positive. While the Talk button is pushed in, we can hear them, but they can’t hear us. I taped it so it will stay pushed in the whole time.”

  “Until the battery dies.”

  I shrugged. “Yes.”

  “You’re brilliant.” She grinned.

  “But we have to get it inside somehow.”

  “We can do it.” She stood up. “Come on.”

  Her bravery was inspiring, and I followed her.

  “A little breaking and entering never hurt anyone. As long as it’s for a good cause, right?”

  “Yes.”

  We walked across the rocky, uneven ground of the field through tall brush and weeds to the house; nerves shook my body.

  Dawn led us up to the front door. “I’m going to knock first. If no one answers, no one’s home.”

  She pounded her fist against the front door, and I wondered if she was as nervous as I was. She didn’t look it. I checked behind us to be sure no one was coming. The field and road were barren and quiet. Not even the air moved. She knocked again, and we waited, but no sound came from within. The door never opened.

  “Coast is clear,” she said, twisting the doorknob. “And it’s unlocked.”

  She pushed open the door and stepped inside, and I followed hesitantly.

  Dawn stood in the entry with her hands on her hips. Looking around, she nodded. “Yep. It looks like a haunted house, all right.”

  “Let’s hurry and hide this thing before that ghost comes.”

  “Mathilda?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, motioning for her to soften her voice. “I don’t want to wake her if she’s sleeping.”

  “Gotcha.” She nodded.

  We walked down the hall to the kitchen. Sunlight beamed in all around, lighting the house and illuminating floating dust particles.

  “I think the kitchen would be the best place to hide this,” I said. “Most people hang around in their kitchens. What do you think?”

  “Sounds good.”

  We tiptoed around the kitchen, with the floor creaking under our weight. Dawn eyed the countertops, which were filled with kitchen items such as tin boxes for flour and sugar. All of it was covered with cobwebs and dust. Her eyes stopped on the breadbox.

  “Perfect.” Dawn pulled the breadbox away from the wall, breaking apart a cobweb. She held out her hand for my walkie-talkie. “Here. We’ll place it behind here.”

  I handed her the walkie-talkie, and she set it on the counter then pressed the breadbox into place. It couldn’t quite fit flat against the wall anymore, but one would have to investigate closely to be able to tell. It looked good to me.

  “Step outside,” she said. “We’ll try it out.”

  I trotted to the front porch and turned on the other walkie-talkie. Static screeched from the receiver, and I waited.

  “Hello, hello. Testing one, two, three... can you hear me?”

  Her voice came through the static sound. I turned to the open front door and saw Dawn at the end of the hall, waiting to hear my response. I gave her a thumbs-up.

  We ran back to our hiding spot behind the berm and sat with our backs against the mound. When I started to feel like I was baking in the hot sun, I suggested moving beneath the shade of a nearby tree, and she agreed.

  “How far is the range on that thing?” she asked, holding up the walkie-talkie.

  “I’m not sure. I think it’ll work from this distance. Last time I used it, Jax was at his house, and I was at mine. That was farther than this is.”

  “The true test is when they come home.”

  “Yeah. It could be a while, though. They’re at work.”

  “Well, what do we do now to kill the time?”

  I shrugged.

  “What do you guys usually do around here?”

  “We ride our bikes a lot. See over there?” I pointed across the field. “That’s Dead Man’s Hill. We ride our bikes down it, and there’s a jump at the bottom. It’s scary but fun.”

  “Have you lived here your whole life?” she asked.

  “In Riverton? No. I’ve been here probably about three years now. I’ve always lived in Utah, but we move around a lot.”

  “Us too,” she grumbled. “I mean, we move around a lot. Too much. Because of my dad’s work.”

  “Hey, that’s the same as us. My dad is always changing jobs, and we move practically every year. Until here. This is the longest place we’ve stayed in years.”

  “We’ve moved eight times since I was born. It’s crazy.”

  “Really? What places have you lived?”

  “I was born in Maine, way at the other side of the country.”

  “Holy cow.”

  “I don’t remember it at all. We moved before I even turned one.”

  I recalled my mom telling me that Dawn could use some good friends because the move had been hard on her. If anybody could understand that, I could. “It’s hard to move so much, isn’t it?”

  She nodded. “This last time, I had to move away from my best friend, Sadie. We lived there for two years.”

  “Have you seen her much since you moved?”

  “Just once. It’s kinda tough because she lives in Bountiful. It’s sorta far from here.”

  “North, I think. That’s one town we haven’t hit yet,” I joked, and she chuckled. “But give us some time, and we’ll get there.”

  She leaned back and stared up at the branches of the tree, and I did the same.

  “Why do you think that is?” she asked.

  “What?”

  “Why our families move so much. I don’t understand my dad’s job and why he can’t keep it.”

  “Or if he has to change it, why can’t he get a job in the same town?”

  “Right.”

  “Well, hopefully, this will be your last.”

  “I hope so. They promised it would be. Riverton seems like a nice place.”

  “It is. I like it. There’s good people here. It’s a bit far from the city. When you want to see a movie or go to the mall, you have to travel. There is a pool not too far from here, though. We sometimes catch the bus and ride up to it.”

  “That sounds fun. We should do that sometime.”

  “Yeah. We should.”

  We sat under that tree for at least two hours and talked about all sorts of things: our families, schools, teachers, and friends. We took a break and went to my house to pick up some Popsicles to cool us off. When we returned, there was still no sign of Beaumont or Lester. Soon after that, we called it a day.

  We ambled down the street toward my house, and as we approached my stop, I started thinking about the next day and how I wanted to spend it with her again. She was so easy to talk to, and I’d never met another person I had as much in common with.

  “Well, this is my house.”

  We stopped in front of it. She nodded with a sarcastic grin, but all she said was “Yeah.”

  “Thanks for helping me. You know, solve the mystery.”

  “We haven’t uncovered one clue yet, silly. But I can’t wait to get back at it tomorrow.”

  “Me too. Do you wanna meet again about nine? We’ll go back and check the house. See if we get anything on the walkie-talkie?”

  “Make it eight. Maybe we can catch them before they go to work.” Her eyes widened with eager fire.

  “Yes, great idea.”

  “Hey, how about that story of yours?” She jabbed my chest with her finger, and I caught a hint of disappointment in her voice that I hadn’t given her the book to read sooner.

  “Oh yeah. Let me run and get it.”

  I raced to my bedroom and pulled the pages from my dresser door. I saw the letter I’d written to her on the night of the fireworks. It sat
on top of my story. I’d asked her to be my girlfriend in it, but I still didn’t have the nerve to deliver it. Somehow, it didn’t feel right. So I tucked it back into the drawer and jogged back to Dawn. “Here you go. I hope you like it.”

  “I’m sure I will.” She ran her eyes over the first page, smiling. “I can’t wait. I’ll read it tonight.” She looked up at me and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She turned to walk away, and I called out, “Hey, I’m glad you’re in Riverton now.”

  “Me too.” She smiled.

  “See you.” I turned and walked into my house.

  I COULD HARDLY SLEEP that night out of anticipation for the next day. What was she going to think of my story? That was the biggest question on my mind, and of course I was looking forward to spending another day of spying with her. Hopefully, we would get some success.

  I was waiting outside as she approached my house just before eight, and she held my manuscript in her right hand.

  Oh boy. My first real critique.

  “Hey, Dawn.” I waved.

  “Hey, Ret.” Holding up my pages, she said, “I finished it.”

  “You did?”

  “Mm-hmm. Do you wanna know the truth?”

  “Only if it’s good. If it’s bad, just lie to me.”

  She chuckled. “Ret, it’s not bad. I loved it.”

  “You did? Really?”

  “Yes, you have a real talent. I could picture everything. The dusty town, Clancy the gunfighter, and the whole battle. It was exciting.”

  “Wow.” I blushed, but inside I was on top of the world. “Thank you for reading it.”

  “You need to write more. I think you could give Louis L’Amour a run for his money.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  We both chuckled.

  I put my pages away in my room, then we hurried to the berm to start our day of spying.

  “He’s here,” I said, excited to see Lester’s car parked out front.

  “Turn it on.” She pointed at the walkie-talkie.

  I clicked it on. At first, all we heard was static, then there were muffled thumps.

  “I think the battery’s still alive, and I hear something.”

  “I do too. I think they’re footsteps.”

  For another twenty minutes, the walkie-talkie picked up only silence, with occasional sounds, but no talking.

  “Come on, guys. Let’s hear some conversation.”

  Then we heard rhythmic steps that I guessed were from someone walking down the stairs.

  “Lester,” a voice said. Though it was difficult to discern through the static, I was sure it was Beaumont’s voice.

  I held the walkie-talkie between us, and Dawn and I both pressed an ear as close as we could. Some words were hard to make out, but I could piece it together enough to know what they were saying. As long as the outside around us stayed quiet, I could hear.

  “Are you ready to go?” Beaumont asked.

  “Yes,” Lester answered. “Once I finish my cereal. Although, I don’t know why we should go to work. There isn’t anything going on.”

  “It’s been days since we’ve had a body come through. We need one. You need to do more.”

  “I’m doing the best I can. I could do better if I could get some sleep. I still hear voices. Every night! They give me a headache.”

  “They are the cries of my people,” Beaumont said. “They continue to suffer until we’re reunited, and time is running out.”

  “Ever since I moved into this house, I’ve been bombarded by their voices. I’ve done everything they asked me to do. Everything you’ve asked me to. Can’t you shut them up?”

  Quick steps were followed by gurgling sounds.

  Dawn and I shared a confused look. I didn’t understand what was going on.

  “They wouldn’t have to suffer so long and wail in your head all night if you provided what was promised,” Beaumont growled. “We haven’t much time. We need to find someone else. A live one. We can’t continue to rely on your failing business.”

  I heard a clatter, more thumps, and gasping for air, as if Beaumont had run to Lester, choked him, then when he was done, pushed him down. There was a long silent pause.

  “What the hell is this?” Beaumont asked Lester.

  “I-I don’t know. It looks like a walkie-talkie.”

  “Who is this?” Beaumont’s voice was sharper than before.

  Dawn and I looked at each other in shock. He’s talking to us!

  “Whoever this is, you are going to regret the day you put this device in my house. I better not hear you or see you, and you better pray I don’t!”

  A cracking sound boomed from our walkie-talkie, so loudly that it pierced my ears. Then even the static was gone.

  We scrambled to peer over the berm. The front door of Lester’s house opened, and Beaumont stormed out. He stopped halfway to the car and turned, casting a baleful glare in our direction as if he knew we were there and knew it was us who had planted the walkie-talkie. He held the broken pieces of the device in his hand and threw it into the field.

  Then he turned back to the house and yelled, “Are you coming?”

  He stood for a few more seconds, staring at the open door, before Lester stumbled out, rubbing his throat. He raised his eyes and scowled at Beaumont. We watched as they entered the car and drove away.

  “Good hell,” I said. “Do you think he knew it was us?”

  “No. There’s no way.”

  “That was intense.”

  “What do you think they’re talking about? Getting another body? Getting a live one?”

  “I don’t know.” And I feared finding out. “We may be in over our heads on this one.”

  “Lester said he was hearing voices.”

  “That explains a lot. We spied on Lester when he first moved in, and we saw him arguing to himself and throwing things around like a crazy person. It must be the voices in his head.”

  “Do you think we should go to the police?”

  “And tell them what? I’ve tried talking to Sheriff Packard about them before, and he dismisses it all like I’m just a paranoid kid. He even said I had broken the law when I found Mrs. Beaumont. And we still don’t know what it is they’re doing.”

  “We need to find out more.” She turned and looked at the house. “We should go back in there and search the place. Maybe we can find something.”

  “Like Nancy Drew and the Hardy Boys?”

  “Yeah! That’s what they’d do.”

  I was nervous about going back into that house. My skin crawled every time I entered it, but here was this cute girl I really liked, who was braver than anyone I knew, and I couldn’t chicken out.

  “I suppose.”

  I turned off my walkie-talkie, and we approached the house cautiously. I looked around for anyone who might be watching. I saw no one.

  We walked up the front steps and stood on the slanted porch. Dawn’s hand was on the doorknob, and I suddenly felt the urge to pee. My nerves were wound up tight.

  Then I heard a car pull up behind us. “Hey!”

  I thought we were done for. I was afraid Beaumont had caught us. I was so keyed up that I assumed it was him. After a terrifying heartbeat, I recognized the voice, and I turned to see Packard in his police vehicle, his head out the open window.

  “What’s going on, Ret?” he said with suspicion in his voice.

  “Hi!” Dawn stepped up. “I’m Dawn Williams. I’m going door-to-door, getting sponsors for the March of Dimes.”

  “The March of Dimes?” His eyes went back to me, and I felt them bore into me, searching me for the truth.

  “Yes, it helps children with birth defects,” she pointed out, flashing him a cheery smile.

  “I’m aware of the foundation.”

  Dawn stepped toward his car emphatically. “Can I put you down as a sponsor, Sheriff?”

  Her forwardness caught him by surprise, and he stuttered, “Uh—no, not right now. Maybe check bac
k with me at my office.” He eyed us again. “You sure that’s all you’re doing?”

  “Of course. What else would it be?” Dawn beamed.

  “Well, it looks like no one’s home at this house.”

  “That’s how it looks,” Dawn said. “We’ll be moving on to the next house.”

  “Good. You two be careful.” He nodded then slowly backed out of the drive.

  Once the sheriff was out of sight, I approached Dawn. “You are a genius.”

  “I was pretty good, huh?”

  “Hell, yes. I thought he had us there for a moment. He’s already warned me several times to leave this Beaumont and Lester business alone.”

  “That’s why we can’t stop. Sometimes adults only see what they want to see. Someone has to uncover what they’re doing before more people get hurt.”

  We couldn’t risk entering the house anymore. Our plan had been thwarted, so we decided to walk to Morgan’s house to see how she was doing. She was elated to see us, and we played a few board games before I went home for the day, but we said nothing about our adventures or speculations to Morgan. We didn’t want to upset her.

  After dinner that evening, my mom asked me what I’d done that day, and I told her how I’d spent the last couple of days with Dawn.

  “So you really do like her, huh?”

  “I just... yeah, I really do. She’s cool and easy to talk to. Like talking to Gary.”

  “Where is Gary? I haven’t seen your friends around much lately.”

  “They came over today, asking for you,” Scott chimed in from across the room. “I just said you were out with that new girl. I couldn’t remember her name.”

  I nodded and looked at the floor. “Yeah, I feel bad. I need to hang out with them more.”

  “You should have a sleepover. Have Gary and Jax spend the night. I’m going to rent a VCR and a couple of movies tomorrow. We’ll pop popcorn. I’ll let you butter it because you are the best at that, and I’ll get some treats. You can have them over then.”

  I agreed, and it sounded fun. I needed to be with my friends, and I couldn’t wait to tell them all about everything Dawn and I had discovered, and suddenly that moment couldn’t come soon enough.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  A Good Friend

  The next day, I had Scouts again, and as usual, we met at Todd Harrison’s home. Then, our stomachs full of Mrs. Harrison’s chocolate chip cookies, we rode our bikes home.

 

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