by Cory Clubb
Gone was Kate’s mousy librarian look. In its place was a red-carpet beauty who could’ve battled for the front pages of the tabloid magazines.
I must have frozen because she caught me staring at her.
“You’d better close that mouth of yours or it’ll get stuck that way,” Kate said, obviously pleased to know what I thought of her outfit.
Oh, man—I had never wanted to read a mind as badly as I did right then. The idea quickly faded as I found myself looking at things other than her eyes.
Just as we were all recovering from the temporary blindness the camera flashes gave us and were ready to hit the road, Rick stepped forward. Ah, no dance night would be complete without a Rick lecture. He was a River City deputy, and it was written in his moral code to do such things.
“Hey, kids, listen.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “Tonight there are going to be a lot of people out. Everybody’s looking to have a good time and that’s fine—we want you guys to have fun too. But please, use your best judgment.” Rick was eyeballing Dean and me, although I was sort of more concerned about Kate. I’d read of some hairy situations on her blog before and been glad I hadn’t been involved.
“Whose phone do we have for a contact in case of an emergency?”
My burning urge to bring up reason #392 why Dean and I needed cell phones sat on the tip of my tongue, but I’d argued the point before and now was not the time. Still, I got a sideways glance from Tracy.
Kate piped up, producing her own phone from her trademark messenger bag.
“Mine is fully charged and ready,” she said and pressed a button on the screen. The theme music from The X-Files started to play.
Rick approved and took down Kate’s number—something I just then realized I didn’t even have.
With that, the four of us literally raced to Dean’s car and were down the driveway before another camera flash.
***
HAVING CELIA AT DINNER with us made it hard to talk about certain things. Yet Dean was right; I needed to take a chill pill and have fun. This was a night of romance, after all. Blech. Where was the mouthwash?
Even though I was enjoying my chicken Parmesan and Cherry Coke, just rolling with the flow, Kate had other plans. I knew she’d been planning it as soon as we had sat down at our table. She had flipped an internal switch, and Muddy Huddy was up and running.
She tried her best to slide comments into our casual table conversation.
“So, how do you think the doctor killed himself?”
Yeah, the first one was a shocker. I didn’t have to read Celia’s mind to know she thought Kate was a nut.
Dean spoke. “Kate, I think we are going to take it easy tonight.”
I placed my hand on hers under the table. She pushed it away instantly.
Okay, that isn’t going to work.
“All right, fine. Then let me ask, what are you going to do at the dance when Trent shows up?” she said, aiming her barrage at Dean. She followed with, “The school doesn’t have an Old Navy for us to hide in.”
I too was curious and looked at Dean. He kept his head and just let out a sigh. Kate was playing it smart and obviously bringing up at least one topic that Celia would know about and we could discuss.
“We’ll ignore him,” Dean cut back in. I took a sip of my drink. I had a feeling this wasn’t going to go well by the roll of Kate’s eyes.
“I have no idea what he’s after,” I said.
“He’s got issues and was just messing with us at the mall,” Celia added.
Kate shot her an ugly look.
“Come on, Kate, calm down,” I said, and this time she did. I started to worry. That wasn’t in her character; something else was going on.
“Sorry, I’m edgy tonight,” Kate confessed.
“I think we all are, after what happened to Stephanie,” Dean offered. “Why don’t we finish our dinner and head over to school?”
We all agreed, but it left an awkward sensation at the table.
Halfway through the rest of the meal, a few other couples came over to our table, mostly to see Dean, and they swapped a few parent picture stories.
Meanwhile, Kate got my attention and spoke softly. “I think I know what Trent is after, and I have few other ideas of what that thing was in Stephanie’s mind.”
She really wasn’t going to let this go. I humored her and let her explain.
Pulling a book out of her bag and setting it on the table, she cut to a bookmark she had in it. I read the title out loud. “’The Call of the Cheeto,’ by I.B. Lovecrap.” I chuckled at my joke, but was swiftly corrected by Kate.
“It’s ‘Cthulhu,’ and the author’s name is H.P. Lovecraft.” Then she added, “This is serious stuff.”
Well, maybe to her, but then again, what tale of the fantastic wasn’t serious to Kate? I’d forgotten she had exploded with excitement when I told her I could read minds. It gave her argument a little more credibility.
“There are real cults out there that worship this thing,” Kate pointed out.
I nodded, finishing off the last bite of my dinner. I was stuffed. How could I now be asked to go and dance myself into a crazy sweat, probably regretting every bite later as it came back up in the guys’ bathroom?
Kate kept talking. “It’s never explained what Cthulhu really is, but in Lovecraft’s story, it’s said to be ‘sinister with latent horror.’”
“Hold on. I thought you said it was a king of some kind,” I interjected.
“You’re talking about the Shadow King. Right, but Cthulhu is just another example of what I’m trying to get across to you.” Kate was a combination of excited and giddy.
“Which is?” I asked.
Kate’s shoulders slumped. “That thing you saw is something foreign, alien, something beyond this world!”
The last part Kate sort of yelled and a few heads turned our way, along with Dean’s and Celia’s. Kate slid the texts back into her bag sheepishly. I looked over at her finished dish of some sort of pasta.
“Man, what did they put in yours?” I laughed, trying to cover for her.
Although I knew Kate was basing all her theories off things that truly didn’t exist, she was starting to make a point. We had no idea what this thing was or where it came from. I felt bad for her and wanted to make up for it, but I was even shocked at myself as I agreed to secretly read Trent’s mind at the dance, per Kate’s request.
I blamed it on her hot dress.
Chapter Thirty-eight
RIVER WEST HIGH SCHOOL was all decked out. I’d already seen most of the decorations earlier, during Stephanie’s memorial service. Now the lights were down low (dark, almost), and the atmosphere was that of a nightclub.
Beams of colored light shot out of the main entrance to the school gym as if an alien attack was being fought inside. Kate’s goofy theories must have been still wavering between my rational thoughts.
At first, all we could hear was the low thump of bass, but once we were at the mouth of the dance itself, we were hit with a fused soundtrack of pop and dance music. Not my style, and let me remind you that I had never planned on attending the event in the first place. Yet, life had taken a swing and hit a monster out of the park.
So now there we were, Dean and I, milling around outside the gym as we waited for the girls as they “freshened up.” As I tried to peek into the dance beyond where we stood, I felt a tap on my elbow.
“Okay, what does she have up her sleeve?” Dean asked directly.
“Huh?” I was caught off guard. “Who, Kate?”
“Yeah. What’s she planning?” Dean didn’t sound happy.
I shook my head; I couldn’t lie to him. “Kate sort of convinced me to read Trent’s mind. She believes he’s behind all of this.”
Dean closed his eyes, clearly more frustrated. “I told you to stay clear of him tonight,” he said, now reflecting his own dad mentality.
“And I’m going to. I just need to slip in and slip out. He’l
l never know I was there.” I watched Dean move his gaze to the floor.
“Nolan, I think it’s a bad idea,” he said frankly.
The girls came back, and Celia took Dean’s arm in hers. “Come on. Let’s go in!” she almost squealed.
At least one person was actually enjoying tonight.
***
A SEA OF SILHOUETTES danced in herds to rhythmic psychosis somebody actually called music. To have a conversation in there meant you had to bring your own megaphone. It was just my luck that I’d forgotten mine. I tried anyway, blaring my words to Dean.
“You’d have to break my legs and drag me by the collar to get me out there.” I thumbed outward, indicating the crowd to him. Dean smiled.
“What?” I asked.
“You’re about to have your legs broken.” Dean shouted back.
I whirled around and found Kate shaking her hips in sync with the beat.
“Huddy?” I managed to say.
I couldn’t believe it. I had never seen this side of Kate, and watching it even then, I had no idea how to react. Keeping her eyes on me, she moved like liquid to Dean and handed him her cell phone.
“Hold this for me. I’m going to need both of my hands,” she said as Dean put it in his pocket. Then he gave me a shove toward Kate. I just about tripped over myself as she threw her head back in laughter. I’m not a tightrope walker, nor am I a dancer, so let’s just be clear here when I say I have no skill when it comes to this.
I tried my best to wiggle my body and stay in motion with Kate and the others, but it was no use. Kate was having the time of her life watching me act as though I was a cross between Frankenstein’s monster and a baby learning to walk for the first time. She kept inching farther and farther into the brigade of other bodies. What had gotten into her?
Looking back over my shoulder, I couldn’t even see Dean anymore, but I didn’t care. This night was finally starting to turn around! Fun, something I sorely needed after the week I’d had.
That was when Kate, instead of playing hard to get, was close enough to me now that I could smell her perfume and see those freckles across her nose. Reaching up, she wrapped both her arms around my neck and I took a deep swallow. She’d just become a vine, and I was her tree.
With her lips next to my ear, she whispered, “Okay, Trent is to your five o’clock.”
Ah, I understood now. Kate, like always, was after the story, but I wasn’t going to complain. I liked her methods. I put my hands on her hips.
I waited a few more seconds and looked over my left shoulder. No Trent.
I faced Kate again, and she whispered into my ear, “Your other five o’clock, Top Gun.”
I gave her a sarcastic look and turned my head, this time over my right shoulder. Trent was talking with one of his cohorts, but I couldn’t see who it was. They had their backs to me.
“Okay, what’s the plan?” I asked, her arms still around my neck. To be honest, I didn’t really want to leave that moment.
“Do your thing. Jump inside his noggin,” Kate suggested.
I shook my head. “We’re too far away. I have to look into his eyes, remember?”
The goal now was to read Trent’s mind without having some sort of confrontation with him before or after. Getting close enough to do so would take some stealth and expertise, and I’m sure you remember my dancing skills.
Chapter Thirty-nine
KATE AND I EDGED closer to the outer rim of the collective of moving bodies. Yeah, we got a few stares.
“Closer,” Kate ordered into my ear. “Act casual.” She kept prompting me.
“I am,” I argued back.
“No, you’re not. You’re like a clown sneaking up on a circus.”
“Be quiet.”
“No, you be quiet.”
I felt something press against my foot hard. “Ow!”
I backed off from Kate. She made a “Whoops!” face at me, looking concerned. She had intentionally stepped on my foot.
“Oh, sorry,” she said. My teeth gritted together, and now I noticed that Trent and his buddies had all turned our way.
She got me again.
He pushed a few of them aside and loosened his shoulders, sizing me up. I looked for Kate, but she had somehow mysteriously vanished.
Oh, great. Now where did she go?
Then I remembered the plan.
“Where’d your date run off to?” Trent taunted. “I saw her moves. I wouldn’t mind a dance with her.”
I held firm as he stepped closer. “This is between you and me,” I said.
“So that’s what you think?” Trent slowly blinked his eyes as if he had imagined what I’d just said. Then he turned his head to his buddies Dink and Doofus behind him, and laughed. It was now or never, and I had to make my move.
Firmly planting both of my hands on Trent’s chest, I pushed strong and hard. I caught him off guard, and from the strength of my push and the off-balance weight of his body, he went down. Half turning mid-fall, Trent caught himself with his hands before he hit. My breathing was heavy, and a few other people had started to gather around us. I watched his two buddies move for me.
“No.” Trent was back to his feet, his wise-ass smile glinting from the sparkling disco ball overhead. “He wants to fight me? Then let’s see what he’s got without his bro around.”
What had I just done? I was way out of my league here. Then I did the one thing I knew I could do. I looked Trent square in the eye, matching his stare, and jumped into his mind.
***
I’D READ A LOT of minds throughout the school, and even though I’d been inside before, I always hesitated returning to Trent’s. His mind was one of those sleazy motel rooms where the sign is highlighted in neon out front and always has a vacancy. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking—it’s the kind where serial killers lure their prey. That was why, first and foremost, I was being cautious in there—whatever Trent was involved in or behind, it wasn’t going to be good.
I’d forgotten how simple his room was. It had been a while since I’d been there, and from what I could remember, it was actually not as messy as last time. Although, the murky dim glow that bathed the room fed uneasiness into the pit of my stomach, as if something were just waiting for me. Had I been tricked into coming here? Not by Kate, but by Trent?
The first thing you’d noticed in the room was a TV, but this was no ordinary set. Hanging by rusty supports that were bolted to the wall, the old box TV flipped stations as if a ghost were channel surfing. The weird part was that there was no sound coming from it. The picture wasn’t all that clear, but it was eerie to see game shows, news stories, and cartoons all flip by one after another silently, at a heartbeat pace. Trent’s current wave of thoughts ran on the bottom of the screen, displayed in closed captioning. They too set off a troubling vibe.
SHE KNOWS THE TRUTH. SHE KNOWS THE TRUTH. SHE KNOWS THE TRUTH.
They just kept repeating in tiny white lettering boxed out in a black frame. Who was “she”? Stephanie? Laura? Had Trent been in on everything? Stephanie and Laura had both been hurt in the last few days. The question still remained: did he possess powers similar to mine?
Beneath the TV stood a dresser with four standard-looking drawers; most likely they hid something inside them. Like I said, I’d been in there before, and the contents were different each time. When I turned counterclockwise from the TV and dresser, I faced a gray, wide-angle picture window, but there was nothing on the other side. It let more light into the room, but not much. The glass was frosted over or had been covered in a thick film of some kind.
I left the window and kept turning around the room. An oversized painting hung above a neatly made bed; it was the one peaceful scene in the room. A white sailboat coasted on cool blue water with a golden sunset on the horizon. Next to the bed was a nightstand with a digital clock on top, but I doubted it was the correct time because it counted down, as if it were a bomb set to go off.
My body ran with a chill just
as a certain odor stung my nostrils. I wondered if it was the stained, molding wallpaper that seemed to be tearing itself from the walls, revealing water damage underneath, but I figured that would smell better than this stench.
I didn’t know Trent personally all that well, so I couldn’t make a diagnosis of how his mind worked. I could base everything off the fact that he was a bully, cheat, and criminal, but then again, the motel room really gave me no indication of what was truly going on. I’d have to dig deeper.
Taking to the chest of drawers beneath the creepy TV, I pulled them open one at a time. Inside the first drawer were shattered beer bottles. I picked one up and looked at it. The letters A-L-D were on the side. The letters were part of a word, so I searched the rest of the drawer and found a green piece that had the letter R. Another brown piece that looked way too much like a brand of beer Dad used to buy had the letters O-N on it. I tried to formulate a word in my head using the letters so far.
“Ronald?” I said.
Then I found a clear piece of glass that just said R-O-N before the rest was cracked. Then there was an L-D piece, then one that was just R-O. Whoever Ronald was, he was considered a drawer of fragments to Trent.
I closed the drawer and opened another. The smelly funk was getting stronger, and it almost brought tears to my eyes. Whew, nasty stuff.
The next drawer had a stack of photos wrapped in twine. I picked them up. The first photo on top was of a couple I didn’t recognize, but I had a sinking suspicion they were Trent’s current foster parents. Loosening the knot and releasing the twine, I thumbed through a few more. The same couple was in the next three photos, and then I found a picture of a boy, a young boy, maybe six or seven years old. The boy looked way too much like Trent not to be him. And then a few more down, I found a picture of Rick and Tracy. The Mitchells looked the same as they always had. In the photo, they had happy expressions on their faces and looked excited. I turned it over to the backside, hoping to find more clues, but there was nothing.