The teenager stops jogging. He turns around and seems to stare at James who still is skating toward him. The teenager removes the earbuds from their sockets. James notices the plug-in part of the earbuds cord is not attached to a device. The cable hangs loosely around the teenager’s neck
This guy is weird. He’s even pretending that he is listening to music when he is not. How foolish is that?
James stops a few feet from the teenager. The teenager shouts in an icy tone, “I am not admitting to being anyone’s son, especially Puppet’s son, but what if I am? What business is it of yours?” He glares at James.
James is amazed by the teenager’s manner of speaking. The teenager’s words are reproving, and his tone of voice sounds too artificial and high-pitched, similar to a singsong falsetto. He is expressing his words slowly like a foreigner would, even though he doesn’t have a distinguishable accent.
The teenager says, “The newspaper said Puppet had escaped from jail. That makes Puppet a criminal. I am no son of a criminal. I can assure you of that! Besides, I do not know you, and you do not know me. Therefore, go about your business, buddy, and leave me alone.” He stuffs the earbuds into his ears, turns around and restarts jogging up the hill but this time at a much speedier pace.
The teenager’s fast-paced jogging is a waste of time. James is well-conditioned, and he has skated more than three miles uphill along Kensington Avenue. For that reason, skating up Grider Street’s gentle hill is like a walk in the park. He is alongside the teenager in less than ten seconds.
“I am sorry to bother you, but I need to ask you a few questions. I hope you do not mind.”
The teenager stops jogging. He removes the earbuds from their sockets, reaches into his pocket, and then he pulls out a switchblade. James instantly scoots back on his skates. He could not help but notice that frayed strands of twine were briefly sticking out from the cuff of the teenager’s long-sleeved t-shirt.
“Sorry, man,” James cries out in a disgusted tone. He is staring at the cuff of the teenager’s t-shirt where he caught sight of the frayed strands of twine. “There is no need for you to do that, to pull out your switchblade. I will turn around and leave you alone to your thoughts. Geez, man! Who pulls out a knife on a fellow teenager anyway? All I wanted to do was talk with you for a few seconds. What’s your problem?”
Just as James is about to skate back down the hill – he knows the kid cannot catch up with him if he glides downhill – the teenager suddenly thrusts the knife into his front pocket.
“What do you want of me? As I said, I do not know you, and I seriously doubt you know me. If you knew me well, you would not be bothering me in this fashion.”
James says, “I want to ask you a couple of questions. If you are not Puppet’s son, that is cool. I have a few questions to ask you, okay? Afterward, I will leave you alone. I will be on my way and you on yours.”
“I am Puppet’s son,” the teenager stammers. “I admit it. What of it? What is it to you? Are you planning to write a book or something?”
James is astonished the teenager admitted he was Puppet’s son. Despite that, he manages to control his excitement.
Goodness! This is going better than I had planned! I can’t wait to tell my teammates what this weird character has just admitted to me on Grider Street!
James decides to say something that is not entirely true.
“If you are Puppet’s son, that, in and of itself, makes me no never mind. Quite frankly, I could care less whose son belongs to whose father and vice versa. In spite of this, I think you may be Spaghetti Kid. Am I correct?”
“What did you call me?” Robert screams angrily in his high-pitched falsetto voice. He takes out his knife yet again. This time he snaps opens the blade. He points it threateningly at James. James skates backward ten feet.
The teenager shouts, “Don’t you be calling me names, buddy. My name is Robert not Spaghetti Kid. What kind of name is that, anyway?” He seems to glare at James, and then he says with a sneer, “Besides, I know you are lying! I know you are excited that I admitted to being Puppet’s son!” He suddenly laughs loudly. “Also, I know what you saw. Did it excite you? I think that it did!”
Robert throws his knife onto the ground. He appears to stare into James’ eyes. At that moment he reaches with his hand into the collar of his t-shirt. He takes out a strand of twine from beneath his armpit, and then he yanks hard. He repositions his hand until it is two feet from James’ chest. He opens his hand. Seven strands of frayed twine are lying in the palm of his hand!
James’ expression immediately is one of total shock as Robert, aka Spaghetti Kid, shows him the fibers. He wants to skate off, but for some strange reason, his legs will not move.
Robert screams, “I know what you saw, and I knew what you were thinking! Because my body is composed of twine does not give you and the others the right to call me Spaghetti Kid. Spaghetti is something you humans eat. Twine is much better. What you said insults me, and it strikes deep into the central part of my being!
“Yes, I know what you are thinking at this very moment.” He smiles deviously. “Yes, it is true. I am an actual walking and talking puppet. I am the son of Puppet. Be that as it may, I am nothing like that miserable criminal! I am strong, resilient, and proud. Likewise, and don’t you ever forget this. I am the unmerciful Supreme Spectral Puppet!”
James’ thoughts seem to be yelling at his legs, “Start to move, darn you! This kid is crazy! Get out of here before this idiot picks up his knife and stabs you or worse!”
Despite James’ pleading thoughts, his legs do not want to move! He whispers to himself, “I want you to move darn you. Move!”
James notices his tongue seems strangely tongue-tied. Even so, he manages to utter a handful of sentences to Robert in a weedy tone of voice.
“I am sorry, Robert. I did not intend to insult you. The term Spaghetti Kid is just a nickname some of us have used to describe you. If I am not mistaken, you are the one who started the food fight in the Claymore High School cafeteria. Don’t get upset, okay? It is just a nickname. Seeing that we know your real name we will stop calling you Spaghetti Kid. How does that sound to you?”
Robert says in a cavalier tone, “I could care less what you and others say and think. I am more than twenty-two times older than you. I have seen and done things that you cannot even imagine seeing on Netflix or, for that matter, seeing or experiencing in real life. Any movie that you watch, any book that you read – those works are nothing in comparison to what I have seen, done, and will do in the future! Thus, I must warn you, James Michael Lightlighter. You and the others stop bothering me,” he laughs scornfully, “or so help your human god! I will hurt you worse than you can imagine.”
James is astonished that Robert knows his name, his full name no less! However, he doesn’t react, at least not openly. James tilts his head to the side and glares at Robert. He is now able to move his legs, and he knows he can skate off in a flash if he needs to.
“Oh, I see you know my name. Let me ask you this, Robert, son of Puppet. I am one hundred percent positive you were in the school cafeteria on the day in question. I am certain it was you who started the food fight. Am I correct or not?”
“Yes, you are correct,” Robert quietly replies in a made-up, unhappy tone. He looks at the sidewalk sadly. Then he suddenly looks up at James and points his finger threateningly.
“All the same, James, I regret that I did not do worse. I apologize I did not kill all of you when I had the chance!” He bends over to pick up his switchblade from the ground. He closes the blade, and then he returns the knife to his pocket.
With his arms wide open, Robert seems to stare right through James. Robert’s mysterious, dark blue eyes suddenly become ghastly, opaque black orbs that grow larger with each passing second. Next, the frightening globes of his strange, dark blue pupils narrow into menacing serpent-like slits.
James is stunned by the sudden, horrible transformation that he is wit
nessing. Before he can turn to flee the horrifying scene, he begins to spin in place slowly. In a matter of seconds, he is spinning more rapidly in ever-widening spreading circles. His arms abruptly lurch from his sides, and then they become horizontal as the powerful centrifugal force takes hold of them. Now, he is speedily spinning in place on his skates like a two-bladed, human propeller. In less than fifteen seconds, James’ rapidly rotating body careens into the middle of rush hour traffic on Grider Street! He quickly loses consciousness a split-second before a car speeds toward him straight away!
*****
Part II: The Unconscionable
When James finally wakes up twenty-five minutes later, he is lying on a gurney in the emergency room of the Claymore General Hospital. From what he sees written on her name tag, the nurse standing by his side is named Silvia. She has taken his blood pressure and is removing the cuff from his arm.
James has seen Silvia jogging around the neighborhood as he skates. It is hard not to notice her. Silvia is a strikingly beautiful woman. James guesses she is around twenty-six years old. Silvia is physically fit, muscular, and of slight build. She looks like she is about five feet tall. Her hair is a soft brown with a supple, honeyed tone. James notices she is wearing a wedding ring on the third finger of her left hand beneath her latex gloves.
Nurse Silvia’s husband is one lucky guy! She is beautiful. Also, I bet her husband goes absolutely crazy when she smiles! I know that I would. The dimples on both of her cheeks are gorgeous!
Nurse Silvia gazes into James’ hazel eyes with her entrancing, dark brown eyes. She flashes a lovely smile, and then she says in a gentle, soothing tone, “Welcome back to reality, James. I am Silvia Marleny.” She points to the steel table next to the gurney.
“I hope you do not mind. I took the liberty of removing your driver's license from your wallet. That is how I know your name and address. Your cellphone is on the table as you can see.” Her expression suddenly turns deadly serious.
“Now, James, do you want to tell me why you were skating in circles in the middle of the street of all places?”
“I wasn’t skating in circles in the street,” James says in a steady tone of voice. His tone is not harsh, yet it is firm. “I was on the sidewalk talking to someone when I suddenly began to twirl around in circles.” He shakes his head a few times. “I did not cause the spinning. I am positive that I did not cause it.” He smiles up at Silvia. She nods her head and returns his smile.
“Please think about it, Nurse Silvia. How can a person skate so fast in circles that he is rendered unconscious? It defies logic and the law of physics. I would have upchucked long before I could have caused the rapid spinning that I experienced.” He quickly looks down at his Nike tee-shirt to make sure there are no nasty stains on it.
He wrinkles his brow in a frown. “Geez, I didn’t puke on anybody, did I?”
Silvia chuckles and shakes her head. “No, James, happily you did not vomit on me or anyone else. If you had, I would have tossed your shirt into the trash can immediately upon your arrival. I can tolerate a lot of things as a nurse, but vomit is not one of them.”
James says, “That is good. I just bought this shirt.”
Silvia stares at James for a few moments. The look on her face is skeptical. She says, “James, do you mean to tell me something magical caused you to skate in circles so quickly that you lost control, lost consciousness, and then you skidded from the sidewalk into the middle of the street and almost got yourself killed?”
James replies, “Yes ma’am, I would like you to think that.” His look is sincere, earnest. “After all, why would I lie to you?”
Silvia says with a smile, “Whether I believe you or not is unimportant, James.” She reaches over to the table for his wallet and hands it to him.
“Nonetheless, I do know this. A car nearly hit you. Luckily, the driver swerved, violently I might add. Your spinning actions in the street caused his car to go over the curb. Fortunately, no one was hurt, and his car did not suffer any damage.” She points to James’ left forearm.
“No one was hurt, that is, except for you. That is a nasty bruise you have there, James.”
James had not noticed that Silvia had wrapped his arm in an elastic bandage. He looks at his arm, and, for some strange reason, it begins to throb terribly.
He asks, “It’s not broken is it?”
Silvia replies in a kind tone, “No, I am fairly certain you haven’t broken your arm. I iced it while you were unconscious.” She gently tugs the elastic on the bandage. “It’s not too tight, is it?” James shakes his head.
Silvia says, “I did not send you upstairs for x-rays. If I had, you would be waiting for hours, undoubtedly well into the night. That’s because the x-ray technicians are very busy, more so than usual.” She smiles as she hands James his cellphone.
“In my professional opinion, it is nothing more than a nasty bruise. It should feel much better in the morning. The bruise should turn from its reddish color to blue or dark purple in a few hours. It eventually will turn a yellow color as it heals, perhaps in a few days. The pain will gradually subside as it heals too. If it doesn’t improve, or you have other symptoms like serious pain or increased swelling, please contact your health care provider. You do have a health care provider, yes?”
“Yes, I do,” Jay replies. “He is our family practitioner, Doctor Farmer. He’s a pretty swell guy and extremely competent and professional.”
Nurse Silvia smiles. “You are an excellent skater, James. I have seen you zipping along the bicycle lane here and there. Therefore, I can imagine you have had your share of bumps and bruises.” James nods his head.
Silvia smiles once more. “I thought you might have. Hence, you know what to do to treat your bruise. Ice it as soon as you get home. Repeat the process once or twice throughout the night. Take a few aspirin or a similar pain reliever such as Ibuprofen or Advil. That should help to ease the pain.” She pulls a face and shakes her head. “James, you are very fortunate you weren’t injured too seriously unlike many of the others.”
James does not focus on Silvia’s mention of pain relievers or icing his bruise. He says, “Others? Were there others injured due to my accident?”
Silvia replies, “Yes, there were others; in fact, many others. However, none were due to your accident. That is why, as a registered nurse, I am attending to you instead of a doctor. All of the doctors are either in the operating room, in ICU, or elsewhere in the hospital attending to more serious injuries. I am sure some are busy filling out paperwork associated with pedestrian fatalities.” She flashes a quick smile. “Therefore, I am the attending health professional, and I say you may go home.” She picks up James’ helmet from beneath the gurney. She looks it over.
“Seeing that you were wearing your helmet, and you hadn’t damaged or even scraped it, we need not worry about a concussion.” She directs James’ attention to the floor. “As you can see, your skates and backpack are beneath the gurney, but I would advise you not to wear your skates for a few days. You were in and out of consciousness when you arrived. There is no head trauma. You conked out because you were going around in circles for Lord knows how long. That is what the driver who almost hit you had said to me.
“I noticed that your jogging shoes are in your backpack. You can call someone for a ride. Then again, I see no harm if you were to walk home. The fresh air will do you good. From the address on your driver’s license, I understand you live a block or two away from here.” She smiles. “Okay, James, slide off the gurney if you please. I received word a few moments ago that we have more injured patients on the way.”
“Thank you,” James says as he stands up.
Silvia removes the soiled tissue paper covering the gurney. She crushes it into a ball and tosses it into the trashcan. She slides a new sheet of tissue paper onto the gurney.
James asks, “Who brought me here?”
“The driver of the car that almost creamed you,” Silvia replies. “He
was shaking like a leaf, and I felt sorry for him. Therefore, I allowed him to remain in here while I examined you. He was one relieved good Samaritan. He departed a few moments before you regained total consciousness.”
“Can you give me his phone number so that I can thank him?” James asks.
Silvia replies, “He did not leave his phone number. Besides, there was no cause for me to ask him for it. He had nothing to do with your self-sustained injury. That he brought you here is very fortunate, considering that all of the ambulances are out on other emergencies.”
James says in a sincere tone, “I am sorry that your medical staff has to attend to so many injuries. Was there a bus smashup or something like a mass casualty accident?”
“Not of that I am aware,” Silvia replies. She hands Jay an official-looking document. “This contains information regarding your visit to the emergency room.” She chuckles. “I may not be a doctor, at least not yet, but my services as a registered nurse do not come cheap.” She smiles, and then she says, “You can expect to receive a bill in a week or two.” James briefly studies the document.
He says, “I won’t be receiving a bill. Unfortunately, my parents will be the lucky ones that receive it.” James stuffs the document into his backpack. He says, “Nurse Silvia, may I ask you a question?” Without looking up, Silvia nods her head.
James says, “Why are there so many injuries? Can you tell me?”
“It is all extraordinary,” Silvia says as she shakes her head. “There have been random, isolated accidents. All of the accidents occurred within the last half-hour, give or take. The accidents, and there must have been at least twenty-five, perhaps more, occurred on Grider Street. That all of them occurred on Grider Street is very strange.”
James’ thoughts are racing.
All of the accidents occurred on Grider Street, the same street where I encountered Robert! Was Puppet there as well? Was he hiding among the houses and shrubbery? Did Puppet cause separate accidents? Or did Robert cause the accidents? By the strange look on his face and his eyes, I bet he did! I cannot believe the look of hate that appeared on Robert’s face. And his eyes! Robert’s mysterious, dark blue eyes turned into opaque, coal-black circles! Then the pupils of his eyes seemed to transform into those of a serpent! What’s more, Robert pulled frayed strands of twine from beneath his clothes! Were the strands real, or were they fake?
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