“He doesn’t get better,” I insisted.
“He might.” Nash looked up at the sky, thinking. I watched his eyes drift from treetop to treetop.
“No. He can’t stay here,” I went on. “He’s dangerous.”
Now, he looked me in the eye. “What did you say?”
“He’s dangerous.”
“That’s what I thought you said. Listen, I’ve got a meeting. I have to change clothes.”
Then he walked off to the front door. Moochi and I exchanged a look. Nash had a gun stuffed down the back of his pants. This had shaped up to be quite a day.
“Come on.” I grabbed Moochi’s paw. “Let’s get out of here.”
We spent the rest of the afternoon hiking through the woods around our house. I told Moochi about Maria as we climbed over rocks and tree logs.
That night after my mother and Nash went to sleep, Moochi and I sat up in the middle of my bed and scoured the magic books I’d bought. I reviewed all of my notes I’d copied from books in the library. With my handy flashlight we went through every book to find a spell to make my Disappearing Dust work.
Thursgood paced in the living room, chain-smoking. I sent Moochi to spy on him. Finally, I found something. The directions in the book said it was used to invoke a spell.
Invoke?
Crap. Where’s the pocket dictionary?
Thank God I kept one in my bedside table. I wedged the flashlight under my chin and flipped through the pages. D . . . E . . . F . . . Honesty, honor, hopeful . . . Improper, indentation, invoke . . .
Invoke means “to call upon.” Got it.
Thursgood slammed the front door. Moochi ran and jumped back in bed with me. A few seconds later I heard Nash and my mother whispering in their room.
The pssssssst of a malt liquor being opened traveled down the hall.
Great.
Thursgood mumbled around the kitchen, clanging pans. It was bad enough that I had to deal with this crap on the weekends, but now Fat Ass had taken over our house.
Slam. Clank. Clank. Whop.
I heard more whispering in the bedroom. Moochi looked at me. I rolled my eyes.
The smell of canned beef stew wafted through the air.
I pulled the packet of Disappearing Dust out of my pocket. On the front it read Guaranteed to activate any spell.
Nash whispered in the bedroom.
Thursgood was in the kitchen digging through the refrigerator, clanking jars against each other.
Very quietly I crept over to my door and pushed the back of a chair under the doorknob just in case. I’d learned that in an Abbott & Costello movie. Sometime later I passed out in my clothes on my bed.
The next morning my mother pounded on my door. “Get up. You missed your bus.” She jiggled the doorknob ferociously.
I rolled my eyes.
“What is wrong with you?” She yelled from the other side. “Open the door. You don’t pay rent around here. You can’t just go around locking doors.”
I climbed out of bed and pulled the chair away.
She had that pinched look. “Why are you still here?”
I wasn’t really sure, so I said, “Thursgood kept me up all night.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. I’m going out. You can stay here.” Then she stomped off to the bathroom and slammed the door.
”I don’t want to stay home,” I yelled down the hall.
“You’re a retarded stepchild,” Thursgood sneered as I walked to the kitchen to get a bowl of cereal.
I jerked the refrigerator door open. “I might be a stepchild but you’re ugly. There’s no cure for ugly.”
“Screw you,” he said. His tone dropped low enough to give me shivers. I made a mental note to be less confrontational and ignore him entirely today.
“Your mother wasn’t married when you were born. That makes you a bastard,” he happily pointed out as I walked down the hall with my bowl.
“Takes one to know one,” I yelled back over my shoulder.
As I passed my mother’s and Nash’s bedroom I looked over and saw Nash sitting on the edge of the bed staring blankly into the hall. I stepped inside quickly, pulling the door closed quietly.
Nash stood up, sliding his arms into a sports jacket.
“What are you doing?”
“I’ve got a meeting,” Nash said, filling his pockets with his keys, money clip, driver’s license.
“What? My mother’s going out. You’re not leaving me alone with Thursgood, are you?”
Nash looked at me for the first time all morning. “That’s probably not such a good idea, huh?”
I nodded profusely. “Probably not. Can I go with you?”
“You were supposed to be at school today,” he said, distracted. “Well, get dressed and bring some books to read. We’re going to be in the car a lot.”
I pulled on my purple bell-bottoms, grabbed my book bag, stuffed my magic book and a crossword puzzle into my bag, and I was outta there.
Nash was leaning against the Oldsmobile as I burst through the front door.
After a second, he climbed into the car and started the engine.
Yeah. No school. No Thursgood.
I turned around in the seat, watching our house disappear in the distance. The boogeyman was in there.
Chapter 13
The front window of our house was broken when we got home. A porcelain bowl lay smashed on the brick walk.
Nash glanced over at me warily. “What do you think that’s about?”
I studied the broken pieces on the ground. “I guess Thursgood isn’t very happy today.”
“Has this ever happened before?”
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “Yeah. All the time.”
“What do you normally do?”
I thought about the best way to say it. “Well, I normally hide until he takes his pills and passes out.”
Nash’s eyes widened. “Are you joking?”
Inca came trotting around from the other side of the house.
“What’s he doing loose?” Nash said, getting out of the car.
I remained perfectly still in my seat. I wasn’t getting out unless I had to. In fact, I wasn’t getting out unless an alien spaceship dropped out of the sky onto the car. And started shooting at me.
Nash walked across the front yard as Inca ran around him in circles. A loud banging noise erupted inside the house. Nash slowed down, leaning over to peer through the broken window.
“I wouldn’t go in there,” I yelled from the car.
He waved his hand to acknowledge that he’d heard me but kept walking toward the house anyway. Suddenly, the front door flew open and my mother came running out. Blood ran down her chin as she screamed, “That asshole hit me.”
Duh.
Nash reached out for her arm. “Are you okay?”
She touched her hand to her lip, and then looked at the blood on her fingers. “No, I’m not okay. I’m bleeding.”
Nash didn’t see what happened next, but I did. Thursgood thundered out of the house, his big fat belly jiggling under a stained t-shirt, and rammed his fist into the side of Nash’s head. Nash never even knew what hit him as his head bent horribly to the side, his mouth twisted in pain. His body toppled, losing balance. His arms reached desperately around for something to hold onto as he careened to the ground. My mother ran at Thursgood, clawing at his hair. He hitched his big fat belly up and charged again. She managed to get a handful of his hair. His enormous ham hock of an arm reared back, and with one hard blow she was on the ground.
Seeing my mother twisted sideways on the ground, not moving, terrified me. I started sweating from every pore in my body. What if he killed everyone and then got in the car to drive away? What if he found me? My breath caught in my throat. I wanted to jump out and run but I was sure he’d find me and drag me back to his treacherous pile. I slumped further and further down into the seat, hoping he wouldn’t see me. I could hear Thursgood’s raspy breath fifteen feet away.
It sounded artificial, like it was inside a can.
He plodded a few steps closer and grabbed Nash by the hair. Inca started barking, lunging at Thursgood. Thursgood turned with that hideous troll look on his face. Dogs were not Thursgood’s best friend. Thursgood let go of Nash and snarled at the dog. Inca hunkered back on his hind legs and bared all of his teeth.
That’s when I remembered. The Magic Dust. I’d taken it out of my pocket and put it in my purse. Where was my purse? My eyes scanned the seat and floorboard. Nothing. I wanted to lean forward but was sure Thursgood would see my head. My purse? I felt along the space in between the seat and door. I’d tossed my blanket in the backseat. My purse must be underneath me. Quickly I felt around for its fuzzy softness. After a few seconds I had my hand on it. I glanced up long enough to see Thursgood lunge at Inca. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Nash move slightly. I saw that his eyes were open. My heart beat fast as I pulled my purse up to unzip the top. I reached in and felt around for the plastic bag.
Inca barked like crazy, charging over and over at Thursgood, who kept grabbing for his head and tail. I saw Nash’s hand slowly reach around toward his back. I had my Magic Dust in hand just as Thursgood chased Inca closer to the car.
He saw me.
My blood ran cold.
His eyes narrowed. His fat legs thundered to the open door of the car. Up close I saw that his face had bloodied scratch marks on it.
He leaned down into the car and said, “Looky what we have here.”
Too scared to even think, I dumped the Magic Dust into the palm of my hand and blew. Hard. With my eyes closed.
I heard Thursgood’s head hit the ceiling of the car, then the crunch of gravel as he backed up. “What the fu . . . ,” he said.
I opened my eyes just in time to see Nash standing behind Thursgood, gun raised.
Thursgood rubbed his eyes with angry fists as Nash clocked him hard in the back of the head. For a second, Thursgood wobbled, still upright, but Nash hit him again. The Bogeyman toppled to the ground.
Shivers ran wild down my arms and legs. I jumped out of the car and ran toward Nash, who was trying to get Inca in the car.
When he saw me he yelled, “Tupelo Honey, get back in the car.”
I just stared at him. Blood trickled out of his nose.
“Now,” he yelled. “I mean it.”
The entire trauma suddenly washed over me. I managed to stammer, “I thought he was going to kill you.”
Nash took my hand and led me back to the car. “So did I.”
He helped me back in and then went around to scoop my mother up in his arms.
I leaned over the front seat to see what he was doing. “Is she alive?”
“Yes. I think she’ll be ok,” he said, carrying her around to the backseat. “We have to get out of here. He’ll wake up.”
Nash heaved my mother into the backseat, slamming the door. “Start the car,” he instructed.
I clambered over, turning the key in the ignition. The sound of the car starting cracked open the hideous silence. Tears streamed uncontrollably down my cheeks. Inca jumped up onto the seat next to me. Nash was outside, walking in circles.
“What are you doing?” I whispered urgently.
“Looking for my money clip. It must have fallen out of my pocket.”
“Over there,” I pointed. “Next to the broken bowl.”
Nash spotted the money on the ground, grabbed it, wiped his nose on his sleeve and walked to the car. Thursgood’s body was slumped up against the car. In one deft movement Nash wedged his foot against Thursgood’s head and pushed him out of the way.
It was the coolest thing I’d ever seen Nash do.
As we drove away from the house, I turned and saw the fat lump of Thursgood laying in our front yard. He was frozen on the dirt, his legs buckled off to one side. His mouth was open. A trickle of blood ran down his chin. I had never seen Thursgood lying on the ground before.
Nash looked over at me. “What was that you blew in his face?”
“Disappearing Dust from my magic kit.”
His busted lip curled into a smile. “Nice.”
We rode along in silence until we got to a rest area off of the highway and then we just sat in the car staring at the buildings.
“What are we going to do?” I asked.
Nash inspected his bloodied lip in the rearview mirror and said, “I don’t know. I’ll be right back.”
I watched as he walked into the rest room. Minutes later he emerged with the blood cleaned off of his face. He walked to the soda machine, brought three sodas, two candy bars and a bag of chips. From behind he looked okay except his shirt was really dirty.
I turned around in my seat, briefly, to look at my mother. She was breathing but hadn’t moved an inch. “Hey,” I whispered to her. “Can you hear me?”
Nash opened the car door and stepped inside. He handed me a soda.
“What are we going to do?” I asked.
He unwrapped his candy bar, taking a bite. After chewing thoughtfully for a minute he said, “Well, for starters, we’re not going home right now.”
That seemed kind of obvious.
Nash just drove and stopped at the first motel he saw. He stopped out front of the office and walked inside. I looked across the parking lot at the sign. The Admiral Inn.
My mother started to revive. Nash heaved and grunted as he helped her out of the car. He handed me two keys. “Here, open my door. The other key is your room next door. Inca will stay with us.”
My own room. What could be better? I opened the door and walked inside.
Nash stepped in behind me. “I’m going to go and take care of your mother and lay down for a minute. If you need anything then come get me. Don’t wander off. Okay?”
I nodded. After he was gone I ran around my room looking for all of my bottles of lotion, shampoo, plastic cups, ice bucket, note pads, pencils and postcards. When I turned around Moochi was sitting on the big king-sized bed. “We got our own room,” I whispered.
He smiled so big his whiskers twitched.
I turned on the tv. I planned on watching tv until my brain oozed out my ears.
Late that night, someone knocked on my door. I’d fallen asleep watching Pippi Longstocking on cable. I shuffled over and asked, “Who is it?”
“Nash.”
I unlocked the door. Streetlamps illuminated the edges of his jacket. He was holding a stack of styrofoam containers. “Step aside,” he said. “I brought dinner.”
Onion rings, burgers, fried cheese sticks and French fries filled up the insides of the containers. I was so hungry. Nash sat down on the bed next to me, grabbing a burger.
“Where’s my mother? Is she hurt?”
“She’s sleeping. Your uncle hit her pretty hard, but she’s ok.”
“He’s not a nice person.”
“No, he isn’t.”
“After we eat you have to ride over with me and see if that maniac is still out front.”
I was about to sink my teeth into an onion ring. “What if he’s dead?”
“Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to avoid. Dead bodies in the front yard aren’t so great in my line of business.”
There were no other cars on the road driving over, which made it kind of spooky. Since we didn’t really live on a main street or have any neighbors Nash parked as far away as he could. The kitchen and living room lights were on inside our house. I rolled my window down to listen. Wind blew through the trees, rustling leaves.
“What are we going to do?” I whispered.
Nash exhaled, craning his neck to see in the dark. “I don’t know but I’ve got to get him out of there.”
“I could create a distraction.”
A stern look fixed itself on his face. “I hope you’re joking.”
“Kind of,” I said. Then after a second, “Not really.”
He continued to stare at me, shaking his head. “No, I don’t ever want you to create a distraction.” He watch
ed me a moment more, then his eyes drifted over to our house. “What do you think he’s doing in there?”
“Suffocating small animals so he can stuff them with sand.”
Nash’s left eyebrow arched high. “Are you being serious?”
“Kind of.”
“Why would your mother ever let someone like that come to our house?”
I nodded my head, filling my cheeks with air. “Yeah, that would be the big mystery.”
Moonlight slanted across Nash’s face, illuminating his busted lip. “What do you think he’ll do?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Honestly. I don’t know. Normally Marmalade gives him a lot of pills and he passes out.”
His brow furrowed and his jaw dropped, “Are you serious?”
“You keep asking me if I’m serious. That’s beginning to make me nervous. Hasn’t anyone ever told you about Thursgood?”
“I know he’s a little weird. What else should I know?”
I couldn’t believe my mother had never told him about that maniac. I took a deep breath and told him everything I could think of. When I was done he just sat there staring at me. Finally, Nash tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and said, “So your mother thought it might be a good idea if he just came and stayed with us a while?”
“Seems that way.” Then I remembered. “And she said Marmalade gave her money.”
“Holy Jesus,” he said, shaking his head.
“Thursgood is dangerous.”
Nash touched his head. “I’m learning that.”
Suddenly, down the street, a light clicked on in our living room. Nash sat up straight, craning his neck to see.
The Beast was in there.
A second later our front door opened. Thursgood swaggered into the yard and peed. We were parked too far away for him to see us in the dark but I saw him. The outline of his face shone against the moonlight. He zipped up his pants, spit, and walked back into our house.
“Thank god it’s too dark to see his tallywacker.”
Nash spewed a little burst of laughter. “You can say that again.”
It occurred to me that Thursgood had never lived alone his entire life. “What if he likes living by himself and won’t leave?”
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