I watched Onyx lie down, showing his belly. Dad was petting him on his belly and Onyx wagged his tail. Good, everybody was friends now.
Suddenly, Onyx flipped over and stood, trotting back over to me, where he turned and sat down next to my chair.
Dad stood, stretching, arching his back and standing on tiptoe.
“You stiff?” Mom asked.
“Some... been in a chair all day.”
Dad turned to me. “Feel like one on one today?”
That sounded great. “Yeah, it's been forever since we played.”
“Now that the immediate crises are over, we can resume our lives,” Dad said.
“It has been stressful,” Mom said.
“How do you like your new dog?” Dad asked.
“Onyx is awesome!”
Mom looked critically at Onyx, who stared back at her expectantly, his brown eyes a pool of liquid in his black face. “He sure is black, like an ink spot that barks.”
It was the first supper we'd had in what seemed like forever where we just talked about normal stuff. No government threats, break-ins, bullies at school or raising dead stuff. Almost normal.
Time for more chaos.
After supper, Dad and I were cranking it up on our cement basketball court. I was guarding him like a cheap suit and he was huffing and puffing around me. I jumped up just as he was shooting and slapped the basketball right out of his hands.
The Js came walking up then, taking off their hoodies as they strode, piling them up just outside the court.
“Hey Kyle!” Jonesy yelled.
John inclined his head to Dad.
Jonesy ran over and we ganged up on Dad. After all, he was all-that-was-man and six-foot one, he had to man-up.
We tore around the court, Dad driving the ball toward the basket, Jonesy accelerating and me trying to steal, John getting in the way of all of us. It was the absolute best.
We horsed around till the light faded so much that we couldn't see the basket. Bounding up the steps we threw the door open. Mom was in her pajamas with two pitchers of iced tea. Jonesy rushed over, grabbed the biggest cup out of the cupboard he could find, filled it to the brim and chugged it down while we watched. Finally, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
He saw us all watching him. “What?”
“Hey, Mrs. H., what do ya say about some banana bread?” He waggled his eyebrows in that charming Jonesy-way of his.
Mom laughed. “You bet, it's right over there,” while pointing to the right of the bread box. A large slab was left out from yesterday.
Mom said, “Looks like someone wants to meet your friends.”
Onyx had come to sit patiently in the corner of the room, eying my friends with curiosity.
“Hey boy!” John extolled.
“That's right! You got him today...” Jonesy said. “So this is the famous dog?”
“That's him,” I said proudly.
We all looked at him and his tail started to wag.
“Mom, is it okay that he sleeps in my room?”
“It's okay, but I think that he may want his own space,” Dad said.
I felt a lecture coming on.
“Kyle means that you have to move all your junk on the floor, to some other spot so he has a place to be,” John said.
Oh, that made sense. But, maybe he would like the smell of my stuff on the floor I told them.
Mom shook her head. “No, Caleb, he can't just lie on your clothes.” A cool idea foiled!
John's hair was standing straight up because he was always pushing it out of his eyes and a combination of boy-grime and sweat had acted as... I don't know, some kind of gel, I guess. Jonesy's hair was cut close to his scalp and seemed to dry instantly when he was sweating. We all thought that was really cool. Mine hung in strings. We all needed showers but I wanted to get my room in shape for Onyx.
“Hey guys, let's get a space for Onyx,” I said.
John shrugged.
Jonesy said, “Sounds like a plan.”
I looked at Onyx and he was just there. Cool.
We climbed the stairs, opened my door and surveyed The Cave.
“Crap Caleb, it's a mess in here,” Jonesy said.
“Oh, I don't know, it looks a lot like your room Jonesy,” John said, cocking and eyebrow.
Jonesy gave John a dirty look. “It's not this bad,” he protested, waving his hand around.
“Whatever. This isn't getting a spot for Onyx figured out.”
“Caleb's right, let's get to work,” John agreed.
We started picking up all the clothes off the floor, heaving them all in a pile on top of my bed that soon became a mountain. John looked at my garbage stack, I shook my head.
Jonesy, seeing the direction of where I was looking said, “No man, the dog can't sleep on the desk...”
That was my logic.
John frowned, he was thinking we would clean the whole room. Out of a scale of interest from one through ten, with ten being the highest, cleaning my room was a negative number.
“Where do the clothes go?” John asked reasonably. Then, “This clothes hamper here? Are these dirty or clean?” he asked, pointing to the pile on the bed.
I shrugged, who knew? If they smelled bad, I didn't wear them.
John folded his arms across his chest. “This is your closet?”
“No. This is my closet.” I opened the bi-fold doors and a bunch of crap rolled out at our feet.
Jonesy surveyed stuff. “Look, there's my History text from last year! I had to pay a fine!” He glared at me.
I shrugged again.
John threw up his hands. “Okay... the plan is, dump the junk in the dirty clothes hamper upside-down, then put the dirty clothes in the hamper, then, put the clean clothes in the closet.” He looked over at the closet, “and I guess stack all that crap in the bottom.”
Damn.
“I hate to say it Caleb, but, I think you're gonna have to go downstairs and get a trash sack,” John looked at the closet again, “not those weak ones that your mom uses for kitchen trash, but yard waste.”
“Can't dude, we compost.”
John face-palmed. “I forgot your mom doesn't believe in trash.”
“My Dad does.”
“Really?” Jonesy asked.
“Yeah, but don't tell my mom. She thinks trash is very uncool,” I said with feeling.
“Jonesy, minion, go fetch trash receptacle,” John said.
Jonesy gave a sharp salute and beat it downstairs.
Onyx stood patiently waiting for us people to figure it out.
Jonesy came back up and we put the trash pile in the bag. Actually, John did. Somehow, I think he was offended by it.
We started into the closet.
“Do we give the school back the History book?” John asked.
Jonesy and I looked at it and at the same time said, “Nah.”
“Jinx!” Jonesy said as we grinned at each other.
John sighed again, into the trash it went.
An hour later, the bag couldn't fit any more and I noticed that there was a lot of floor space to choose a spot for Onyx.
After a ass-load of discussion, we decided that Onyx needed to be at the foot of my bed, but close to the computer desk, on the right. I had a sudden idea and decided to search around in the closet, moving all the non-trash items. Mom's Stephen King collection was carefully put aside. I found just the thing, Gran's afghan. It was a bunch of bright-colored squares all stitched together to make a huge blanket. It was itchy. Mom said it was made of wool. She didn't like synthetic fibers since they were made with petroleum products. I folded it in half, then half again, placing it in the new spot.
I thought in Onyx's head, here's your new spot.
He walked over, sniffed the scratchy thing, and laid down on it.
“Good dog.”
He wagged his tail.
“He sure seems like a good dog,” Jonesy said. Hearing that, Onyx wagged his tail harder
.
Smart too.
John turned his attention back to the closet, poking at my stack of books with a toe “Why don't you use a dedicated reader?”
“It's like the watch, isn't it?” Jonesy said.
“Caleb is a little outdated,” John remarked.
“No. I just think that it's important to use some stuff that isn't modern. I mean, think about our dependence on Brain Impulse Technology? If everything went stupid, and suddenly that junk didn't work, just think about the chaos, even if it was only for an hour; people would melt down.”
John looked thoughtful. “You have a point.”
Jonesy looked at my watch. “It's not even LED,” he nearly wailed.
I looked down at the funky thing, scratched and old looking. It had been Dad's first watch and I liked it.
John bent his head over it and grunted, “It's a winder.”
“A what?” Jonesy asked.
“You have to wind it every day to keep time.”
Jonesy looked baffled.
John shrugged. “I gotta split. Let's get this stuff back in the closet.”
We threw all the stuff back in there, stacking the books carefully, and shut the thing. Jonesy looked relieved that the doors could close.
Onyx sat on the blanket watching us.
Jonesy whispered, “He's kinda creepy, Caleb, the way he just stares at us.”
We all looked at him.
“He's something,” John said.
Be right back... stay, I thought at Onyx.
The Boy made the people noises in the Dog's head. But, the noises weren't as clear as the flavor. The Dog thought about how the Boy put a smell inside his head, all different types of smells, and they made a message. The Boy was very easy to understand. He was different from the Others. The Dog would stay on this, (he dropped his nose to smell)... soft thing that smelled like old pack female...in the Boy's den. He closed his eyes, feeling something that was familiar... a sense of home. The Dog was happy.
His memories of the other Boy were dimming.
CHAPTER 24
The rest of the week dragged by. Go to school, daydream about it ending, then rush home to see Onyx, eat some food, hang with the posse and Jade and do it all again. All of us were getting so tired of school. The end of the year loomed large.
Hadn't seen much of Carson and Brett but I knew we'd probably go to the same high school next year as freshman, Kent Paranormal High, KPH. That's where all paranormals went. At the regular (mundane) high schools in town everyone with different academic aptitudes would go to the high school that specialized in that aptitude. Jonesy had shown Math/Science aptitude so that's where he was headed, Kent Lake High. The rest of the gang was going to KPH. I was gonna really miss the Jonester, it seemed wrong somehow.
Friday finally rolled around and it was the sixth of June. Jonesy, ever mindful with scheming said he thought the last day of school would be a blast.
“Ya see... it's a special day.” We were all at the lunch table festering about the possibilities of government plots, hiding what we were and such; ya know, normal conversation.
We waited expectantly for him to continue. Jonesy always had cool and bizarre ideas. Sometimes, like the disastrous cemetery plot with Carson, they didn't work out but it was interesting to see.
“It's Friday the Thirteenth,” he said, clearly satisfied with himself.
Sophie rolled her eyes. “So?”
Jonesy grinned back at her, smug. “It's an unlucky day. Stuff that's bad, that's gonna happen, happens then.”
Sophie stared at him.
“He is amusing,” Jade said.
“He's right,” John agreed, showing guy-support.
Tiff strolled up just then, hands jammed into the pocket of her hoodie, the hood pulled all the way up, a sliver of her face revealed. “Whatcha doin'?”
“Hey Tiff,” I said.
The Js nodded, the girls said hey.
“What's he sayin'?” Tiff asked.
Sophie said, “Jonesy thinks the last day of school is going to be riddled with bad luck because it's Friday the Thirteenth.”
Tiff said without preamble, “That's a load of horseshit.”
Right.
Out loud I said, “Ya never know, it could go okay. It's just supposed to be a warning, right?” I looked at John, who nodded.
“I know some bad stuff that's happened on that day,” Jonesy said in a creep-you-out voice.
“Yeah... what?” Tiff said, plunking herself down between Sophie and Jade, who gave her a miffed look. She didn't have girl radar or she'd have seen the problem with that move.
Tiff put her head in the cradle of both her hands, clearly bored and waving the red flag before the proverbial bull.
Jonesy obligingly said, “There's this haunted house...ya know, the one where that old cemetery is, it's just a shack. I heard there was a kid that went in there and never came out.” he was nodding his head the whole time.
“Who told you that lame-ass story?” Tiff said skeptically.
“One of the teachers,” Jonesy said triumphantly.
That got everyone's attention. Jade took a bite of apple and John fussed with some Cheetos, putting a couple up his nose and wiggling it. It was comical with a Cheeto sticking out of each nostril. Sophie was unimpressed.
“You're gonna eat those now, aren't ya?” Tiff said, smacking her gum.
Jade sighed. “Boys.”
“Hey!” I exclaimed.
“Not you.” She fluttered her eyelashes at me and I was instantly smitten again.
“Listen up chumps!” Jonesy redirected.
The girls gave dissatisfied grunts, John took the Cheetos out, peering at the ends that had been in his nose... nice.
“This is the plan,” oh, here we go, John looked cautious. The girls were clearly interested but they didn't know Jonesy that well.
“Jonesy...” John started.
He held up a palm, warding him off. “Hear me out. We're gonna go to this shack...”
“That's by a cemetery... smart,” said Tiff in a droll way.
“Yeah, and I have the ghost-buster team here with me to take care of everything,” Jonesy said with confidence.
Tiff and I sighed.
“So, we're gonna go there and see.”
“See what, Jonesy?” Jade asked.
“I don't know... somethin', whatever.”
“Well that clears things up a lot,” Sophie said.
“Jonesy's consistent,” John said neutrally.
Jonesy gave John a speculative look and continued, “It's a half-day but I'm thinking we have to wait until dark?”
I was figuring Jonesy for a full dark, check-out-the-haunted-house kinda guy.
“Hell yeah! This is the best part, it won't be dark until late, like ten, so we have plenty of time to rebel-rouse before.”
“Rebel-rouse?” Tiff asked.
“Rouse means 'to wake' and rebel, well... you gotta know what that means,” Jonesy said.
A sneaking seed of suspicion started to take hold.
“You're not thinking of some cemetery shit again?” I asked.
“Who, me?” he asked, all innocence.
Tiff's eyes narrowed into slits. “We don't need the spotlight, Jones. We need to stay underground.”
She was right, even if her way with words was not real smooth.
“That wasn't The Plan,” he paused. “But if something cool were to happen...” he spread his arms wide, what's the problem?
The voice of reason spoke up. “Let's stick to checking out the old place and seeing what's in it; no cemeteries,” John finished.
Jonesy looked embarrassed. Uh-oh, something was up.
“Spill it,” Tiff said.
“Well, there's something I forgot to mention,” he said, putting his thumb and index fingers almost together, a paper's width from touching.
John spun his hand like a wheel, go on, and Jonesy finished with, “You gotta walk through the cemetery to
get to the house.”
“I knew it!” Sophie said, Jade making a face.
Tiff and I looked at each other.
“I guess it's okay. Carson and Brett don't know we're going,” I said slowly.
I looked at Jonesy who would tell The World if he felt it would help The Cause, he shook his head; he hadn't said anything... yet.
Tiff interjected with, “And it's a bonus your Gran isn't buried there. Wait, do you have any other relatives buried there?”
“No, they're all at Scenic.”
“Well thank God,” Sophie mumbled.
“Okay, I'm in,” Tiff said, leaning back and crossing her feet at the ankles. “Can Bry come?”
“Ah-huh...” I thought about that more. “He's not gonna kick my ass, is he?” Didn't want to set myself up for the fall and with my girlfriend as the audience.
“Nah... he's over it.”
“Is he the cute one?” Sophie asked.
Jonesy glared at that. Interesting.
“How should I know? He's my brother, gross.”
The pulse clock chimed and we stood, separating our trash. The Js trailed behind as Jade and I walked to our next class.
“What do you think you'll get out of Biology?” Jade asked. “It was kind of a cluster with the frog thing.”
Yeah it was.
“Maybe I softened him up, knowing stuff about flowers.”
Jade's eyebrows shot up.
I nodded. “Yeah, my mom makes me do gardening chores.”
“That's why you knew about the plant names when I came over.” She smiled up at me.
Huh, bonus point.
“It beats cleaning toilets,” I said.
“Yeah, that's a gross job. I'd rather learn about plants,” she said wistfully.
She had the chores I hated and I had made a big deal out of it. Geez, Hart, good going.
“This summer you can come over and we'll do gardening together. I bet my mom would love the help!”
“Alright, cool!”
We stopped in front of Biology. “Have fuuuunnn!” she teased.
“Oh, yeah and monkeys will fly outta my butt!” I said.
She giggled and I laid a kiss on her full mouth that felt like crushed velvet (sensory overload!).
The Death Series, Books 1-3: Death Whispers, Death Speaks and Death Inception (The Death Series, Volume 1) Page 25