My Friends Are Dead People

by Tony Ortiz

  Jacoby handed me a pair of some nice running shoes. “These will be more practical for now.”

  “Thanks!” I said, quickly putting them on. They were very comfortable and . . . “There’s sand in them. You like going to the beach?” I asked, noticing it was white sand.

  Jacoby didn’t answer, but Dorian did.

  “He loves the beach.” I could clearly sense Dorian smiling.

  “I like the beach, too,” said Katie.

  “Yeah, we all should go together sometime,” I proposed.

  “The cross,” continued Jacoby, answering Katie’s question about where we would meet up. “Have you been there?”

  “Yeah,” said Katie. “That’ll work.”

  “Alright, then,” he finished. “The north domain – where we’ll be heading – is piling up at the moment. Many are coming from outside America. Understand you’ll be sent home immediatly if any kind of violence unfolds. These graves aren’t for you. Understood? . . . You’ll need to hurry back. Night and death tread together. When the sun dies, so does the good.”

  We nodded, too excited to ponder what he had said.

  “I’m serious when I say you need to hurry,” Jacoby stressed. “If you're late, you will have to wait till next year.”

  “How late is too late?” asked Katie.

  “You'll figure it out. Judging by Jesse’s expression, he already knows. You can ask him.”

  I did know. I drew my eyes away from the setting sun beaming through the trees, knowing we had a good hour before it was dark. We waved goodbye, then ran out of the graveyard.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  KATIE GOES MAD

  Katie and I sprinted up Beverly Street, just realizing that Oz was probably going mad looking for us. We ran up Lisa’s porch and knocked on the door. The inside was totally dark.

  “I don’t think she’s home,” I said, giving one last knock. I checked Katie’s watch.

  5:03 PM

  I wasn’t even sure why we were looking for Oz when I wasn’t going to ask her about the trip. She would definitely say no. But I could ask her if I could stay at Katie’s house.

  I pulled out a notepad and wrote a note for Oz.

  “Let me skim through it,” said Katie after I was done.

  “Why?”

  “For grammatical errors, duh.”

  I handed it over. “I think it’s fine. . . . Katie, what are you doing? Don’t add anything!”

  There was nothing I could do. She was stronger than me. She turned her back to me and continued writing.

  To Oz, the greatest mother in the vastness of space,

  Katie and I are fine and healthy. We’re looking for you.

  We ran into some kids and lost track of time. I’m going

  to stay at Katie’s for a little while.

  With love and more love, your great son, Jesse

  Jesse drew the heart. He likes doing things

  like that. He is a liar. Don’t listen to him. We met

  some strangers who want to take us somewhere. Katie

  Katie was so stupid! I tried ripping it out of her hands, but she pushed me away, giving her just enough time to slip the note under Lisa’s door.

  “But I didn’t draw the heart,” I complained as we jumped off the porch and started jogging away from the house. “Now she’s going to think I’m crazy.”

  "She already thinks that."

  "No, she doesn't."

  Katie and I slowed down as we reached my small front gate. My house was also dark. We ran right in. We could both tell that Oz wasn’t there; we didn’t have to search every room.

  “She’s probably at the police station,” guessed Katie, staring at the leftovers on the kitchen table.

  “You can have mine. I’m not that hungry. Do you want to call the police?” I suggested, watching her already fork her way through a bowl of salad.

  “I’m not calling them,” mumbled Katie with her mouth full, chewing on lettuce as if it was candy. Yuck.

  “So what are we going to do after we show her we’re okay? Are we asking her if we can go?”

  “Yeah. I’m not going to lie to her.”

  “Fine. But she’ll say no. Let’s check your house next.”

  “Fine.”

  We each downed a glass of water and ran out of the house. We jogged the whole way there. Her living room was kind of scary at night. All the furniture was dark, the striped wallpaper was bleak, and it was colder in here than outside. Katie noticed her foster mother, Sandy, and Oz right away sitting next to each other in separate sofas. It was hard to see now, but Sandy was tall, young and had long blonde hair. None of them said a word.

  “Oz, we went trick-or-treating at the circle,” Katie lied, disregarding what she had said. “We thought it would only take a minute.”

  That was stupid. No one went to the circle. That was where old people walked around.

  “After that, we found a real haunted house,” I added. “Katie was terrified. She nearly peed her pants.”

  Katie made a face at me.

  “Jess, I told you to wait for me,” reminded Oz in a tense but level voice. “I didn’t want you two to go out alone.”

  That was it. I was going to be grounded forever. But then, an epiphany seemed to hit Katie.

  “We got jumped,” she said.

  Oh, yeah, I had totally forgotten about that. Good job, Katie!

  “Jumped?” said Oz.

  “A bunch of–”

  I cut Katie off. “Huge football players took us apart. One of them pulled a shotgun on me.”

  “But you guys are okay?” said Oz.

  “Yeah. A policeman saved us. He shot one of them.”

  “Jess, that’s enough. Get your jacket, and let’s go.”

  Oh, my God, I was dead.

  Oz picked up on my petrified look. “Katie, did you borrow my jacket from Jess?”

  I gave Katie a pleading nod.

  “What jacket?” she said anyway.

  “Katie,” I whined.

  “You lent me her jacket? When?”

  “It’s upstairs in her room!” I said impulsively to Oz. “She forgot – no, I haven’t told her yet!”

  Oz stood up. “You haven’t told her you’re going to let her borrow the jacket?”

  “Uhmm . . . yes.”

  “Wait here. When I say that, I mean don’t move.”

  Oz strode out of the room. It was quiet for a while. What was she going to do to me after I tell her I had lost her jacket? What freaked me out even more was that Sandy was sitting in the dark not saying a word. But then . . .

  “You all deserve to be punished–”

  “No one asked you to speak!” thundered Katie.

  Sandy got out of the sofa and slapped Katie in the face. “Get in the kitchen now!”

  “No.”

  “Don’t hurt her,” I pleaded quietly.

  Sandy turned to me. “Do you know what kind of girl you’re running around with? Do you know what she did two years ago?”

  “Sandy, don’t tell him,” cried Katie, looking frantic.

  Sandy looked into Katie’s eyes and said, “She killed a girl.”

  A tear seared down Katie's cheek. “It wasn’t my fault. She tripped.”

  “You were fighting with her, right? It’s your fault.”

  Katie had never told me about her life before we had met, always avoiding the topic. But it took me just one second to search my heart and make up my mind that Katie was my best friend, and she always would be no matter what she had done in the past, good or bad.

  “I don’t care,” I said.

  No one paid attention, it seemed.

  “Girl, I said get in the kitchen–”

  “Shut up,” muttered Katie. “I’m tired of listening to–”

  “You listen here, you juvenile nuisance!”

  Katie was now standing face to face with Sandy.

  “You ain’t mí real mamá!” Katie barked into her face. “You’re a foster mamá
! Stop telling me what to do!”

  Oz came running in and pulled Katie back, who intentionally knocked over a lamp.

  “Pick - that - up–” sneered Sandy.

  “I’m not your maid! You pick it up, you sick . . . I don’t care if you die!”

  Tears streamed down her reddened cheeks. I knew that Katie hated Sandy, but I didn’t realize exactly how much till this point.

  “Becky, this is not your house,” said Sandy.

  Oz took my hand and dragged me out of the house. What was she doing? Katie and Sandy were just about to fight. If we didn't resolve this, something terrible might happen between them. But I kept quiet. Oz didn’t say a thing either while we headed home. She had me walk ahead of her, which made it difficult to know how much trouble I was in. When we got home, I lingered in the kitchen, not sure where she wanted me to go.

  “Sit,” she said. I slowly sat down. “I don’t know what you were thinking, not telling me where you were – and I told you to wait for me. Head up, Jess. You know how I can worry about the simplest things. You do this every night. Do you want to get mugged again? Am I making a mistake by home-schooling you? Jesse, what is going on with you?”

  Oz kept quiet for a while, then continued.

  “I don’t care right now where you were. You’re okay, and that’s all that matters. You should just be glad you have someone who cares. I’m going to bed,” she finished.

  “Oz?” I said softly as I saw movement through the window.

  Charles was watching us from outside, fogging up the glass with his long warm breaths. I turned back to Oz, not worried about him right now. He could listen all he wanted. Oz was standing in the hall, waiting for me to speak. Her eyes were looking redder than before. She looked like she hadn’t slept for days.

  “I lost your father’s jacket,” I admitted, feeling tears roll down my cheeks. “That’s why I didn’t want you to do my laundry or you going in my dresser. I’ve been trying to look for it every night. I think someone picked it up when I set it down. I’m sorry. I’ll get it back, I promise.”

  “You’re safe, Jesse,” she said oddly and walked down the hall.

  I waited for her door to shut before going to my room. When I stepped into the hall, I saw my door half-open. Someone was inside, opening and closing my dresser drawers. I knew exactly who was in there.

  “Stop following me!” I called out as I stormed down the hall and pushed open the door. “Get out of my–”

  The werewolf slowly raised his muzzle out of the top drawer, sensing my presence, and let out a wheezing cough. Without looking at me once, he thumped heavily across the wood and crawled out of my window.

  “Duma, where are you?” I said, first looking under the bed. He was jammed into the far corner, with the biggest eyes ever.

  “The werewolf's gone. I’m going to Katie’s. I think she’s in trouble.”

  He didn’t move. I wasn’t going to wait for him and climbed out of the window. It only took me a minute to get to her house. I bounded up the boxes and crawled into her room. I could hear Sandy shouting downstairs. I hurried down the stairs, hearing the end of the fight.

  “You’re going to do what I say! Stay right there–” Sandy collided into me at the bottom of the steps. “You better get out of my house before I call the cops.”

  “Where’s Katie?” I said just as I saw her around the corner with a cut under her left eye.

  “Hi,” she said in a soft voice.

  “Hi. Are you–”

  “I’m okay.” Katie came over and pulled me out of the living room. “Going to Jesse’s house, mother.”

  The air was pretty chilly. The sun had set below the horizon. Even though the dark clouds still glowed purple and orange, we weren’t going to make it. The cross was miles away. If we ran the entire way, it would still take a good half hour or more. Katie was looking happy though, and that was the important thing. And I wasn't so sure if we should go anymore anyway.

  I handed Katie the witch hat, which I had snatched from the living room.

  “Crapper, she can hit hard,” she winced, dabbing her face. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome,” I said shyly.

  “Really. She was getting firewood.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off of her cut. It looked pretty bad. Why did she have to go through this all the time? Was this punishment for killing a girl? But she was a good person. She was perfect.

  “What you thinking about?” said Katie. “Remember what I told you–”

  “I’m not thinking about you.”

  “You’re thinking about me?” she said merrily. “Like what?”

  “I said I was not thinking about you. Don’t you listen to me?”

  “Not really.”

  I couldn’t help but keep glancing at her cut. It was deeper than I thought at first. Germs could get in and infect it and damage her nerves and then kill her. I felt lightheaded. Wait, was that dirt on the tip of her cut? I got a closer look.

  “Jesse, you okay?” she said, smiling. “You look demented.”

  I stepped back as soon as I realized how close I was to her.

  “It’s just a cut. Come on, let’s go.”

  “I’m not going,” I said. “I have to find Oz’s jacket. You can go without me.”

  “Jesse!” she cried out.

  Now what? Did she think that was funny?

  “Jesse, her jacket!”

  My eyes followed hers to her mailbox. Oz's jacket had been neatly placed on top.

  “Thank you,” I cried, hurrying over.

  “Go ahead, kiss it,” said Katie. “Don’t forget to thank Crapper.”

  “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” I put on the jacket, looking down at its green leather with a huge smile.

  “The thief must’ve felt bad,” Katie reasoned, “and brought it back – with a note.”

  Katie pulled a piece of paper out of the front pocket. There was only one line: Thought this should be worn by the rightful owner, not a high school student.

  “Maybe the police found it,” I ventured.

  “But they’d never drop it off here. They’d call your house.”

  “But then who knew to leave it here on the mailbox? . . .” I saw a smidgen of light shining on the horizon. “Come on, let’s go!”

  I ran up Pasadena as happy as a rabbit with a carrot. Today was the best day ever. I had Oz’s jacket, new shoes and new friends.

  “Maybe Jacoby will let me have a pair like yours–” started Katie.

  Katie and I stopped running. A block ahead of us, Charles’s mother was crying on her porch. Her son was lying on the grass flat on his front, dead.

  “Fifty days isn’t enough!” she cried to the clouds. “You bring my baby back! He’s not yours! He’s a good boy! He’s done nothing wrong! You don’t have the right to take him away!”

  I rushed away, feeling sick.

  “Was that the werewolf?” asked Katie, finally catching up.

  I nodded. Today was not the best day ever. It was too much for me. Too many things had happened.

  “He’ll be okay," she continued. "Watch this!”

  Katie flung her long black hair around and started dancing. She was really good. It looked like she was dancing to rock music.

  “Why aren’t you laughing?” she said, stopping. “It wasn’t funny? Jesse?”

  “What?”

  “Hey, your eyes are watering,” she said with a smile. “I knew you were a softie.”

  “So what?” I retorted.

  “You’re a boy. You’re supposed to be tough.”

  I smiled. Katie could always get me out of a bad time.

  “Why don’t we give Oz the jacket first?” she said.

  “After,” I said, knowing Oz didn’t check on me until eleven or twelve. “We still might make it. It’s not completely dark yet.”

  Katie and I stopped to take a look at the beautiful view of the white cross at the top of the mountain.

  “Look at tha
t,” she said, amazed. “Marvelous spectacles.”

  “Don’t make fun of me,” I said testily.

  “What do you mean? I always say that.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The Twenty-Second Trip

  After three miles of running up the steep roads of Mount Helix, we ran out of steam and walked the rest of the way. We arrived at the summit just a minute too late, the last rays of the sun in the west had faded. Twilight was over, and it was now nighttime. However, Jacoby and Dorian were still waiting under the giant white cross, watching dark clouds roll overhead.

  “Don’t worry about it,” said Jacoby, only giving Katie’s cut a brief look. “Let’s get moving.”

  “Hey, Dorian!” Katie and I said at the same time, nearly forgetting to lower our heads.

  “Hello,” said Dorian.

  Jacoby seemed in a hurry so we kept quiet and followed him down a narrow dirt trail with a cliff on one side. Thankfully, it was short and soon brought us to a yellow house sitting far back from the curb underneath a billowy tree. Jacoby walked up the creaky porch steps and knocked on the door.

  “If Ray’s home, we’ll be at Lin’s costume shop in a few minutes,” he said.

  While we all waited at the doorstep, Jacoby took out an old photo from his pocket and stared at it. It was a small picture, with very few creases.

  “Who’s the photo of?” I asked, trying to lean around him.

  Katie elbowed me in the ribs. "What you doing?" she scolded. "Can't you see it's important to him?"

  Jacoby tucked the photo away as an elderly man stepped out on the porch. This must have been Ray. He was chubby and had a full set of white hair. I considered myself pale, but this man was as white as mayonnaise.

  “Jacoby,” he gasped, looking surprised to see him. “It’s been a while.”

  “Yes,” said Jacoby. “There’s expected to be a good number of deaths this–”

  “The games are coming to an end, aren’t they? There we go. Oh, I say, what’s this?”

  “Katie and Jesse. I have invited them along for the festival inspection–”

  “Jesse? What a gift given to you. How do you do?”