The teenager glances up the street to where Diana Jane is walking. She is at least a half city block from them.
“Whatever is going on,” he points to Diana Jane, “the end of this stupid clump of twine seemed like it was trying to – I know this sounds crazy – it seemed like it was trying to crawl to that teenager over there. It was following her or something. I need to tell you that it was pretty creepy. I also know this sounds crazy. Even so, I am going to say it. The twine slithered like an inchworm!” He looks at Brenae who continues to stare speechlessly at the clump of twine in his hand.
The teenager says, “If I am not mistaken, she is the freshman who goes by her first and middle name, Diana Jane. She is going to play Peter Pan in the upcoming Peter Pan play, am I right?”
“Uh-huh,” is all that Brenae can utter in reply.
“I thought she was,” the teenager says. He looks Brenae up and down. “I think I recognize you as well. If I’m not mistaken, you are one of the Lost Boys in the play. I am handling the lights and sound equipment. I don’t get from behind the curtain, and I rarely watch the play, so I wasn’t entirely certain who you and Diana Jane were.” He shifts the clump of twine from his right hand to his left. He holds out his hand to shake Brenae’s.
“I am James, James Michael Lightlighter. My friends call me Jay. May I ask your name?”
Brenae shakes James’ hand. She still has a dumbfounded expression on her pale face. She continues to stare in turn from the clump of twine in James’ hand to the coil of twine she is holding in her own. She does not look up at James when she replies.
“Yeah, I have seen you backstage. You do a good job with the lights and sound stuff. I am Bre. Hi.”
“Well, I am glad to meet you, Bre. Is Bre your nickname? Then again, do you, like most people, have a full name?”
“Huh?” Brenae replies in a barely audible whisper. After a few more seconds of blankly staring, she finally looks up at James.
“I am sorry. I cannot help but wonder at this twine the two of us are holding.” She smiles which heightens the sparkle of her lovely blue eyes. “Yes, my name is Brenae Sharon Woodbine. My friends call me Bre. We call you the Skater. You are terrific too. You will be the school district inline skating champion. I know it in my heart.”
“I am pleased to meet you in person, Brenae Sharon Woodbine whose friends call her Bre. I thank you for the compliment too.”
James hands the clump of twine to Brenae. After accepting the clump of twine, Brenae slowly moves both of her hands up and down as her thoughts hurry through her bemused mind.
Strange! The clump of twine is at least ten times larger than the coil it is attached to, but it seems to weigh the same! I need to place both of them on Mom’s kitchen scale when I get home. What I am experiencing is weird!
“As for the second thing I know for certain about this twine,” James says, “it is a skating hazard. I nearly tripped over it two times before I decided to twist it into a ball as I skated. It was the hardest thing I have ever done while skating. For some strange reason, the twine felt alive like it didn’t want to form into a ball.” He stares at Brenae, and then he says in a confident tone, “There is a third thing I know for certain about this twine.” He points to the original coil of twine. “It concerns the strands of twine like you are holding in your hands.”
“What is that?” Brenae asks offhandedly.
James says, “I thought I saw strands of twine in the cafeteria when the food fight broke out.” He closes his eyes, and then he slowly shakes his head like he is trying to unfurl cobwebs from the memory of his mind.
“At least I think I did. One moment the strands of twine seemed to be everywhere in the cafeteria serving line. Then they disappeared. In spite of this, unlike the twine you have in your hands, those strands were frayed like they were less rigid. They reminded me of videos I have seen in biology class of living arteries and veins. The strands were pulsating like those. The strands appeared like they were alive!” He looks at Brenae. “Weird, huh?” Brenae does not reply.
James says, “Maybe I am losing my mind or suffering from delusions.” He laughs as he rolls his eyes and rubs his head as a joke. “I have banged my head a few times during skating races. I once had a concussion too. That could explain the twine’s disappearing act. Perhaps, it is all in my mind just like this craziness.”
Brenae removes the backpack from her shoulders. She places it on the sidewalk, unzips it, and begins to stuff the attached clump and coil of twine into the bag. The smaller coil of twine goes in quickly enough, but the clump of twine seems like rubber. It bounces around in her hand like a small beach ball. It also acts like it doesn’t want to go into her backpack. She considers what she is seeing.
He is right about one thing. The clump of twine he looped into a ball while he skated feels alive! It acts like it has a will of its own – all rubbery and resistant. Darn it all! I refuse to let Loser’s stupid twine outdo me!
With great effort along with far too many accompanying loud grunts and groans, Brenae finally manages to stuff the clump of twine into the backpack. She hurriedly zips the bag closed. She places the straps of the pack over her shoulders one by one, so the pack is hanging on her chest rather than on her back.
She whispers under her breath, “I know I may look silly walking with a backpack on my front, but this way I should be able to notice if any of the twine tries to escape – to return to Di!”
James says, “By the looks of it, and maybe I imagined it, the clump of twine I collected seemed like it did not want to go into your backpack. What do you think?”
Brenae replies, “Oh, you noticed that as well, huh? Yeah, that is why I am going to wear my backpack on my front. I know it sounds stupid saying this, but I do not trust the clump you collected or the coil that was in my back pocket.” She laughs nervously. “Who knows, maybe I have just invented a new way of wearing a pack. Let’s call it a front pack. What do you think, Jay?”
James replies, “I think it is pretty lame.” He laughs. “If you do not mind me saying, I think it looks pretty dumb as well. Whatever works for you is good for me. However, as I said, there is something weird about that coil of twine you had in your back pocket. My clump and your coil were hooked together. How is it,” he scratches his head, “how is it that you were able to have a bunch of twine in your back pocket that is ten times as large as your pocket? It is impossible!”
With a tongue-in-cheek manner, Brenae says, “Oh, so you finally figured that out all by yourself as well? If you have to know why, please allow me to tell you something. What I have to say may sound incredibly stupid and a whole lot crazy.
“The coil of twine that miraculously unwound itself from inside my pocket was given to Diana Jane by Puppet. He is the Loser that escaped from prison a while back. It has been tormenting her for a very long time. For some reason, it wanted to get back to her to haunt her some more. Now, doesn’t that sound incredibly stupid and a whole lot crazy to you?” She frowns. “Because it does to me!”
“Yes and no,” James replies. “Yes, I do know about the coils of twine given to lots of people in town. I used to have one in my toolbox. And no, I do not think it is incredibly stupid and a whole lot crazy. I have seen some bizarre things in my life, ghosts and such. I assure you that I believe anything is possible.”
“Whaaaat?” Brenae exclaims. “You used to have a coil of Puppet’s twine in your toolbox? What happened to it? I know this may also sound crazy, but did you ever feel, you know, did you ever feel weird while holding it in your hand?”
“No, I never felt weird or anything,” James replies. “Then again, I must tell you this, Bre. May I call you Bre?” Brenae nods her head.
“While I was rolling that clump of twine in my hand, I had strange visions. They were weird visions too. I also wanted to snap the twine in two, to sever it from the coil that was in your pocket. I wanted to steal it! Can you imagine that? Fortunately, that was just a fleeting, weird feeling, and I le
t it pass. All the same, the visions I had were odd. Scary in fact.”
With a gasp, Brenae asks, “What kind of visions? Can you tell me?”
“No, not right now if it is okay,” James replies. “I need to get a handle on them. I have to try to figure them out for myself before I tell you.” He smiles. “I promise I ultimately will tell you.” He pauses briefly. “How about you, Bre? Did you get any weird visions while holding either the clump of twine I gave to you or the coil of twine you removed from your pocket?”
“Nope,” Brenae replies in a monotone. “Neither seemed to bother me. I felt nothing weird, nothing unnatural. They are nothing but a bunch of nasty, horribly stained, and smelly gobs of revolting twine from the Loser. I admit I was shocked to see two bunches of twine, but I had no visions. Nope.”
James says, “I see. Good for you. All I know is I felt weird. Say, do you have your phone with you?”
Brenae nods her head.
James says, “I do not know you well, and I do not want to appear forward or anything like that, but I think I can help you three girls with your project.”
Brenae says, “You know about our project? You know about the project Missus Davenhill assigned us to investigate the cafeteria food fight?”
“Yes, I do, Bre. You probably do not know this. After you were assigned the project, the memo’s contents spread like wildfire.” He chuckles. “Nothing of any significance that goes on at Claymore High goes unnoticed by its nosy, gossiping students. Besides, a copy of the memo is on the bulletin boards in every corridor. Our beloved principal wanted to make certain no one would doubt the authority she had delegated to three of her freshmen.”
James suddenly roars with laughter. “The three of you already have affectionate nicknames, at least from us seniors.”
“Oh?” Brenae replies indifferently. The tone of her voice belies her eager anticipation of knowing what the investigative team’s nicknames are. After all, Brenae is well-known by her closest friends as the “Queen of Goofy Nicknames.” Brenae gives a nickname, affectionate or otherwise, to everyone that she knows and even to some lucky, or unlucky, persons she has never met. She has also given her Mom and Dad nicknames. We will not mention those here.
James says, “Your threesome is known as Sherlock, Watson, and Lestrade. The Chloe freshman friend of yours heading up the team is Sherlock Holmes. Diana Jane is Dr. Watson, Sherlock’s companion. You are D.I. That stands for detective inspector, Lestrade. In my view, D.I. Lestrade is the coolest detective in Sherlock Holmes’ chronicles, both in books and film.”
“Wow, that is pretty cool,” Brenae says kindheartedly. “I have heard of Sherlock Holmes, but I do not know a thing about the two other characters you mentioned. I’ll have to google them. Also, I did not know there were copies of the memo on the bulletin boards. I guess Missus Davenhill wants everyone to know she means business.”
“Yes, she does,” James says. “Jot down my number. You do not have to give me your number. Giving me your number would be inappropriate since we do not know each other well. He smiles. “At least not yet.”
Brenae removes her phone from her right front pocket. She says, “Okay, shoot.”
“It’s 555-2525. Same area code as yours I’d guess, 615.”
“That is a fairly easy number to remember,” Brenae says as she quickly types the number onto her iPhone notes app. “Lots of fives, too.”
She stuffs the phone back into her pocket. She stares at James for a few moments. Her look is questioning, somewhat doubtful. She has pursed her lips as if she is in deep thought. When at last she speaks, her tone is serious and respectful.
“Jay, other than thinking you saw strands of disappearing, frayed twine in the cafeteria during the food fight,” she jabs her thumb at her backpack, “and retrieving a huge clump of twine that seemed to have a mind of its own, what else can you offer to help us with our investigation?”
With an honest face, James replies, “I saw who started the food fight and ran around the cafeteria like a maniac throwing food at our fellow students. I know that you saw him as well since you were speaking to him while you stood in the serving line. More importantly, I am extremely confident I know who he is. I also know who his father is. I have seen him and his father around town.”
Brenae quickly removes the iPhone from her pocket. She opens up the contacts app and looks James squarely in the eye.
“Take out your phone, Jay. I want you to record these three phone numbers as I say them to you. The numbers are the cell phone numbers of Chloe Brown, as you know, she is heading the investigation, Diana Jane Bower, and mine, in that order.”
CHAPTER SIX
THE DEADLY CONSPIRACY
“His nasty stares give me the heebie-jeebies!”
Puppet says, “I do not care what you say. There is no way we are going to let up on those teenagers.”
Mister Cheaply replies, “Why not? Our quarrel isn’t with teenagers. It’s with the adults of this town. That’s where the money is!”
Puppet gives Mister Cheaply a dirty look. He hollers at full volume, “I disagree! Our quarrel is with the teenagers not with the adults. The three female teenagers were terrible enough. Let's assume my suspicions are correct, that the foreigner from overseas, the Campbell girl, will join their team. Given the way the four of them were exchanging notes and whispering in the school courtyard, it appears highly possible. If she joins their team, we will have four troublesome teenagers with which we must contend. The three freshmen seem incredibly industrious enough without having a high school senior joining their ranks. The three freshmen are very smart as well. That is why their principal selected them to work the investigation.
“Like most modern-day teenagers, I bet they are super nosy, bordering on the obnoxious. We must carefully proceed because, if we don’t, there will be smart-alecky teenagers all over town conspiring against us. The town’s stupid adults we can handle with threats and bribes. Adults are set in their ways, oblivious to unexplainable things that go bump in the night. We cannot manipulate adults’ minds as quickly as we can manipulate the young, adolescent minds of teenagers, in particular, high school freshmen.”
Mister Cheaply says, “Why do you think you can easily manipulate the children? After all, they are immature kids that want nothing more to do than goof around with their friends, cruise the internet, and text on their phones to the wee hours of the morning. I agree that the children are immature and less seasoned than adults, but I doubt you can easily manipulate them as you say.”
Puppet exclaims in a harsh tone, “They are not children! They are teenagers, almost adults. They are knowledgeable of every technological invention known to man. They keep up with the latest electronic gadgets. Many of them know the inner workings of technical, state-of-the-art devices better than their parents. Take the internet as an example.
“Teenagers know how to cruise the internet better than any other age group. They join every social media platform known to man. They will find us out. It is only a matter of time. We need to scare the bejesus out of them, so they will want nothing to do with investigating anything!”
Mister Cheaply says, “What do you propose we do about them?”
Puppet replies scornfully, “We eliminate the threat. We make them wish they were never born.” He laughs. “If we are lucky enough, perhaps some of them will go over the edge and cease to be. That will save us the trouble of driving them insane.”
Mister Cheaply gets up from the plush armchair in which he has been sitting. He strolls over to the large picture window. From this vantage point in the second story downtown office he has rented, he has a clear view of the town square promenade. The office is a good meeting place and an excellent daytime hideaway for Puppet. The covered back alley that leads to the seedy bar next door is perfect for a quick getaway for Puppet if it becomes necessary. Nobody who is anybody goes into the bar, so the chances of anyone recognizing Puppet are slim at best. Whenever Puppet isn’t meeting with Mist
er Cheaply in the downtown office, he is hiding in his residence. Mister Cheaply doesn’t know where Puppet and his brother-in-law live. Nor does he care.
“What about your brother?” Mister Cheaply calls over his shoulder.
“What about him,” Puppet replies irritably.
Mister Cheaply turns around. He crosses his arms over his chest and glares at Puppet.
“You said Sorrie was on our team. He is sorry all right. The first real fun we had with scaring teenagers during that food fight, and he was at a darned conference on the other end of the state!”
Puppet waves his finger threateningly as he yells, “Don’t you go making nasty comments about my brother! He was in two places at once. He was present at the cafeteria food fight where the teenagers could see him. He also was at the conference. That will be his excuse in case anyone implicates him for not stopping the food fight, that he was present in Dansville.
“That he was in two places at once has served as step one of our plan. The kids will think they are either going crazy or haunted by magical ghosts, perhaps both.” He laughs spitefully. “I would like to see you try that, to be in two places at once! All you can do is cough up some money to fund our little operation. You have no magical powers like my brother and me.”
“I seriously doubt that what he did was magic,” Mister Cheaply says nonchalantly. “Don’t go thinking I am stupid, Reginald. I know that your brother-in-law has access to the technology to project images and the like, to fool people. I have been to Universal Studios in Orlando, Florida. I have been on the rides that make it appear as though fantasy things are real when they aren’t. What people see as Spider-Man and Harry Potter aren’t anything more than sophisticated, three-dimensional computer images, holograms.”
Puppet says, “Despite your reservations, are you going to continue funding our operation as you promised?” He flashes Mister Cheaply a nasty look, and then he says crossly, “While it is fresh in my mind, please do not call me by my first name, Reginald. I prefer that you call me Puppet like everyone else in this crazy town of ours.”
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