by Неизвестный
Falcon tipped his head to the side. “Aw, don’t do me like that, pumpkin.”
Eli clenched his fist. It would be so satisfying to hear the snap of something breaking under his fist. He was not a violent guy, but if Falcon called him pumpkin one more time, something bad was going to happen.
The girl kept whispering into Falcon’s ear, getting more animated and upset. The only word Eli could make out was “rules,” and she kept saying it.
Falcon’s attention was partly distracted by his companion, and Eli’s fist felt so powerful. He considered letting go, swinging away, but dampened the urge by reminding himself there were small children around, including Joey.
At the thought of Joey, he realized the small boy was not at his side. He turned to Valentine, all but dismissing Falcon. “Where’s Joey? Is he with Khan?”
Valentine, who’d been watching Falcon with narrowed eyes, jerked her gaze off him and started searching the crowd.
“I see him over there,” she said. “Good thing I dressed that kid in tie dye.”
“You have a kid?” Falcon asked. “How old?”
Valentine started walking in the direction she’d seen Joey. Now he was alone with Falcon.
There were no Hart siblings around to hear him, or to be impressed by Eli standing up for himself, but he wanted this moment anyway.
He looked right into Falcon’s deep, dark eyes and told him exactly what he thought of him. The girl stared at Eli in wide-eyed astonishment. The truth couldn’t be a surprise to her, but if it was, then so be it. Eli finished by saying, “Go to Hell,” and then he walked away.
He could feel their eyes on him, so he moved quickly to lose himself in the crowd.
His pulse was racing, but he felt good. Alert. Alive. Like how he felt in a room with a ghost.
He caught up to Joey and Valentine, who was lecturing the kid about not running off in a crowd without a grown-up at his side.
Joey said, “Sorry. Wanna see what I bought?” He held a brown sack made of burlap, and whatever was inside the bag was almost as big as Joey.
Eli was dying to see what was inside the bag, but he didn’t want to run into Falcon Devereaux again.
“I want to leave now,” Eli said. “Let’s find Khan, leave the Fair, and save Joey’s reveal for the drive home. Is that okay with you, little man?”
Joey’s lower lip trembled. “But I don’t want to go home. Can’t I hang out with you? It’s not even dark yet.”
It wasn’t dark yet, but the sun was low on the horizon, and the scent of illegal smoked substances wafted over the crowd. All the vendors were packing up, but a live band was just starting up on the bandstand. Eli looked over to Valentine for guidance.
“We should go,” she said to Eli. “That friend of yours gave me the creeps, plus I’ve got stuff to do.”
Joey crossed his arms and stomped his foot. “I don’t WANT TO GO YET!”
She frowned at the pouting child, then turned to Eli. “Is he being ironic? Or is he actually throwing a tantrum?” She seemed genuinely confused, like someone who spent all her free time with computers and not children.
“I WON’T GO!” Joey yelled.
Eli watched the kid carefully. If he had some sort of magic powers, or a tiny Ray-gun in his pocket, now could be the time he used it.
Joey threw his burlap bag to the ground, and continued to make throwing motions, even though his hands were empty. He wailed about never getting to do anything fun, despite the obvious irony of wailing about it while at a Renn Faire.
The crowd in the park didn’t pay much attention to him, nor to the other kids within earshot who were doing the exact same thing.
Khan stepped out of the crowd, returning from his adventures, and rested his elbow on Eli’s shoulder to better watch Joey’s tantrum.
After a minute, he turned to Eli and asked, “What are we doing here? This is cruel and unusual, and why aren’t we recording it?”
“I had a hunch.” Eli looked around, aware that Joey’s tantrum was getting loud enough to attract a few curious onlookers. “I thought maybe the kid had powers, like voodoo or something. He would demonstrate them now if he did, right? I think he has something to do with the P-O-L-T-you-know-whats.”
“Voodoo?” Khan raised his dark eyebrows in amusement.
“Yes, it does sound stupid, now that I hear it out loud.”
“Voodoo is far from stupid, but this kid doesn’t have any.”
Valentine interjected, “There’s clearly something wrong with the mother.”
Khan shook his head. “She’s a hoarder. Mentally ill. Very sad. Nothing paranormal.” He swung his fist emphatically, like a gavel pounding an invisible podium. “Definitely not anything that should concern three hard-working people trying to secure a steady revenue stream in this economy. Those three people should be thankful, and not ask too many questions.”
Joey had thrown himself on the grass and was kicking and flailing his arms like a child half his age. If he was anything like a juvenile poltergeist, he would wear himself out soon, or so Eli thought.
“Khan.” Valentine’s pale green eyes looked troubled as she stared at her big brother. “He needs his mother. He’s just a kid.”
“We were all kids once,” Khan growled. “Get him up and let’s go. Fun’s over.”
Eli snapped into action at Khan’s order. He knelt down at Joey’s feet and caught him by the ankles. “Valentine, you hook him under the armpits. That’s the heavy part, but I wouldn’t want you to get kicked.”
“I have a better idea,” Khan said. He picked up Joey’s burlap sack and shook out its heavy contents. The objects were wrapped in more burlap material, but the shapes were clearly those of a sword and shield.
Khan shook out the empty burlap sack. Next, he moved swiftly. In a flash, he’d stuffed a still-wailing-and-kicking Joey inside the burlap sack. He threw the sack over his shoulder like a young, fit Santa Claus.
Khan Hart gave Eli a look, as if to say, you’re absolutely right, this isn’t the first time I’ve stuffed a screaming kid into a burlap sack, and it won’t be the last.
Eli and Valentine grabbed the wrapped objects from the ground, then chased after Khan and the squirming sack.
“Outta my way!” Khan yelled as he pushed through the crowd. “Animal control officer, coming through. I’ve got a bag of rabid badgers. Step aside!”
Chapter Thirteen
Joey was calm and quiet inside the burlap sack by the time they reached the van, where Khan let him out.
He climbed into the back seat, buckled his seat belt, and sat quietly, staring straight ahead, his hands folded on his lap.
“You just have to show them who’s boss,” Khan said gruffly.
“I’d rather earn someone’s trust through respect,” Eli said. “If you want a friend, you have to be a friend.”
For this, Eli was rewarded with a pat on the shoulders from Valentine. “You’re sweet,” she said.
He grinned.
“But stupid,” she added.
He clenched his jaw to keep from agreeing with her, then they got into the van to begin the drive back to Joey’s suburban neighborhood.
During the drive, Valentine worked on getting Joey to open up. She told him she’d been tossed into a sack dozens of times by Khan, and that it wasn’t so bad, because they always played tea party afterward. Eli snickered at the vivid description Valentine gave of Khan playing tea party.
Bit by bit, Joey talked a little more about his life. He was an only child, and his mother was raising him by herself. He had aunts and uncles, but in another city. The two of them moved into the neighborhood a month ago, for his mother’s new job. Neither of them wanted to leave the rest of the family, but she promised him it wouldn’t be forever.
“New job?” Valentine asked. “Does she work at a hospital, or somewhere there are sick people?”
“No, she works on the computer. She doesn’t have to drive anywhere.”
“She works
at home?”
“Yup.” He fidgeted with the wrapped sword and shield on his lap. “Don’t even ask me what she does on there, because I don’t know. It’s all codes and numbers.”
Eli looked around at the houses they were driving by. Something about the story wasn’t adding up. He kept his eyes on the road, but turned his head to the side and said, “Joey, if your mother works from the house, she could work anywhere. Why did you have to move away from your other family?”
“Don’t be rude,” Khan said to Eli. “He’s just a sweet, innocent kid. You don’t have to cross-examine him, Mr. Prosecutor. We’re just three hard-working grunts who should mind their own business and keep having jobs.”
Ignoring Khan, Eli asked Joey, “Is your mother sick? I was a bit older than you when my dad got sick. It was really scary, and the worst part was I didn’t have anyone to talk to, because my dad was my best friend.”
“She’s not sick,” Joey said. “Nigel would tell me if she was.”
“Nigel?” Valentine asked. “Is that your little dog you were telling me about? The chihuahua?”
“Yup. Nigel says she’s just busy with her job, but it won’t be long now, and then when the job is done, they’ll let her go. Nigel says she’ll be at peace, and I can go with her.”
Joey finished talking, and a hush fell over the interior of the van.
Eli glanced over at Khan, who turned toward the window, avoiding eye contact.
Eli adjusted the rear view mirror so he could look at Valentine. Her eyes were wide and glistening.
“Do you know what that means?” she asked Joey. “What it means to be at peace?”
“It means happy, right?”
Valentine met Eli’s gaze in the mirror. “Yes,” she said to Joey in a soothing voice. “At peace means happy.”
The sun had set during the drive. Eli parked the van in front of Joey’s house, and stepped out into the darkness. The street lamps overhead glowed weakly, shedding little light.
“You can’t park in front,” Joey said.
“We’re just dropping off,” Khan said gruffly.
Joey unsnapped his seat belt and shuffled out, his wrapped packages held awkwardly against his chest.
“Are those heavy?” Eli reached for the items.
“MINE!” Joey yelled.
Eli dropped his arms and stood back, watching as Joey dropped clumsily out of the vehicle.
“See you around,” Eli said.
Joey grumbled something, then walked slowly toward his house, the heavy objects making his steps ring out. He walked with his head and shoulders nodded down in the saddest of postures, which made the squishy feeling in Eli’s chest feel like a sharp blade.
Eli stood on the sidewalk, considering his options. It was hard to think, with the ruckus of every dog in the neighborhood barking at once.
Khan, who was still inside the vehicle, called out, “Don’t you dare go inside that house. We should mind our own business—a business that could pay quite well.”
Eli stared at Joey’s sad, shuffling silhouette. “Should we vote? Because I vote we go in there and see what we can do for his mother.”
All around the neighborhood, the barking dogs were getting louder, and there was a scratching sound, like claws on wood.
Valentine finally spoke up. “My vote is with the sweet but stupid one,” she said. “I vote we go in and assess the situation.”
“Fine,” Khan grunted as he opened his door and jumped out. “Let’s follow Eli Carter to our destiny.”
The three of them walked through the suburban darkness, toward the bruise-colored house.
Joey opened the front door, and his snarling dog came flying out like a miniature demon from hell.
“I got this,” Khan said, and he put the burlap sack to use for the second time that day, scooping the small dog easily. He pulled the drawstring tight and hung the bag on a jacket hook just inside the front door of the house.
“Good one,” Valentine said.
“Sit,” he said to the squirming bag. “Good boy.” An eery growling came from the captured chihuahua, as if to say, when I get out of here, I will slurp the marrow from your bones.
“Nigel, shut up,” Joey said to the burlap sack. “For once I’m going to have friends play at my house, and you can’t stop me.”
The dog went quiet.
Valentine led the way into the house, grimacing as she stepped over piles of detritus. “Hello?” she called into the dimly lit space. “We’re back with Joey. Can we talk to you for a minute?”
There was no answer.
They ducked to pass under a spiderweb of cables and wires, moving deeper into the house.
“Hello?”
The only sound was a hum, like a sustained note.
Chapter Fourteen
They moved deeper into the house, toward the humming sound.
Once they turned a corner, they could hear someone typing on a keyboard, and followed that sound.
They found Joey’s mother in a room that had once been the home’s dining nook, but was now filled with desks on three sides. The trio of desks were stacked with an array of monitors, all lit up with incomprehensible charts and strings of numbers.
“Geek heaven,” Khan said under his breath.
“Or geek hell,” Valentine said.
Joey’s mother sat on a swivel chair, seemingly unaware of the three strangers, or even her own son. She tapped on one keyboard, the sound like rain on a tile roof, then swiveled on the chair and tapped on another. They watched as she repeated the same chain of movements three times, moving like a robotic arm in a factory, programmed to do a repetitive task.
The room was warm and dry, smelling of hot circuit boards and body odor. The chandelier light was off, the room lit only by the light of the monitors, flickering from blue to green as she typed.
Eli couldn’t be sure, but the woman herself seemed to be glowing softly, her skin changing colors in sync with the monitors.
“Mom.” Joey tugged on her sleeve. “My friends are here. Do you want to meet them? Can you take a break?”
“Not now,” she said. “Mommy has to work overtime.”
“Five minutes,” Joey begged.
She repeated herself, like a recording, “Not now. Mommy has to work overtime.”
He tugged her sleeve again, getting more aggressive. “But Mom!” His voice rose in frustration, the way it had before pitching his tantrum earlier that day.
“Not now.” She lifted one hand from the keyboard and pressed it palm-down against Joey’s face. A flash of light pulsed from her hand and sent Joey windmilling backward, crashing against one of the desks. “Mommy has to work overtime,” she finished, her tone cool and robotic.
Joey stumbled away from her, rubbing his elbow. He looked up at Eli with an expression of pain and confusion, then ran from the room.
Eli followed after him. “Joey, wait. I’m sure your mother didn’t mean it.” He stumbled over cardboard boxes and junk in the hallway, slowing him down. He could hear Joey sobbing, somewhere in the house. “Where are you?”
Joey’s voice came back distant and muffled. “Go away! Leave me alone!”
“No,” Eli said. “We want to help you.”
Joey didn’t respond.
Eli fumbled his way down the cluttered hallway until he found the little boy’s bedroom. Unlike the rest of the house, this room was orderly and nearly empty. A small bed with rumpled blankets sat in one corner, and a child’s homework desk sat in the other, lit by a domed lamp.
“Joey, are you in here?”
No answer.
“I’m going to snoop around your room. Feel free to come in and stop me, or show me your treasures.”
He walked to the closet first and felt around in the hanging clothes, expecting to make contact with the kid. Whenever he played hide-n-seek with the kids he babysat, standing in the clothes closet was a favorite hiding place. He suspected it was because finding someone with your hands naturall
y led to a few minutes of tickling.
There was nobody in the closet.
Eli turned and went to the boy’s desk. He reached for the top book on a stack of school textbooks and opened the book. The spine cracked with a tell-tale sound; it had never been opened.
In the center of the desk sat Joey’s deck of cards, and the comic book Eli had given him. The comic was not even a week old, but already lovingly crumpled.
Eli turned away from the desk and left the room, still in search of Joey and still calling his name.
He could hear Valentine and Khan in the other room, arguing in hushed voices about what to do next. Khan was saying they had no equipment, and weren’t able to do anything. Valentine ordered him to search the kitchen for supplies while she got her computers from the van.
Eli met her in the hallway, near the front door. “Do you need some help?”
“I could use some light.”
He reached around, found the light switch, and flicked it on. Nothing happened. The bulb was burned out, and they had no hope of finding a replacement in the disastrous house.
“Power surges must have blown the lights,” Valentine said. “Typical.”
“Typical for what? What’s going on? Is it something para-electrical?”
“Something’s taken over her mind, and is using it as a supercomputer.”
“Cool,” Eli said.
She made a tsk sound of disgust.
“Uh… should we call someone?” he asked.
“Who?”
“Scientists?”
“Sure,” she said tersely. “You call up the scientists who fix these things. Obviously I was over-thinking this, like I always do.”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
“Don’t be sorry,” she snapped. “Just be useful.”
She opened the door, letting in the chaotic chorus of dogs barking. The burlap sack containing Nigel, hanging by the door, was still and silent, like the dog was listening to everything.
“What can I do?” Eli asked.
“You look after the kid,” she said. “Keep him distracted.”
“I can’t even find him. You can fix this, right? Is Joey’s mother going to be okay?”