Ellie place a hand on Chidi’s forearm. “And what’s Oscar going to do when he comes back and finds you two gone? He won’t believe us, Lenny!”
“Show Oscar a picture of that kid and say I went lookin’ for him. Trust me, he’ll approve.”
“What about Marisa?” Chidi asked. “She’s the one we’re supposed to—”
“She’s long gone by now,” Lenny said. “I don’t wanna go back to Crayfish Cavern empty-handed.”
“So what? You’re going to slave a Dryback instead?” Ellie asked.
“He’s not a Dryback.”
“Think about what you’re saying. We’re catchers, not slavers!”
Lenny took Wotjek’s keys off the table and twirled them by the anchor. “Come on, Cheeds.”
Chidi stepped forward to follow.
Ellie again stopped her. “Lenny, if you want to leave, have at it. Chidi’s not going though. Henry will flip.”
“That’s why she’s comin’ with me,” Lenny said.
Ellie still would not let Chidi pass. “I don’t like this.”
“Ya don’t have to.” Lenny stormed up the aisle and out the door.
“I don’t care what he says,” said Ellie. “He’s up to something. Racer and I will fight to keep you here if you don’t want to go.”
Chidi blushed. “I’ll go with him. Someone has to. Besides, it does keep me away from Henry for a little while.”
Ellie pulled Chidi close for a quick hug.
“Come on already!” Lenny yelled up the stairs.
Chidi said her goodbye and walked up the aisle. She paused by the driver’s seat.
Allambee refused to look at her.
“Did they…did they hurt you?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“Cheeds!”
“I’ll be back,” she squeezed his arm. “I promise.”
Chidi exited the bus.
Lenny stood in the middle of the parking lot. He had the keys in the air, and waved his hand around. A car alarm went off. Lenny killed it and clapped his hands.
“Come on, Cheeds. I found us a ride.” Lenny tossed her Wotjek’s keys.
Chidi followed him across the parking lot to a green mini-van with a yellow Baby On Board tag stuck to the rear window. “This is what he drove?”
“It’s the one that had alarms goin’ off when I hit the button.” Lenny looked at the car. He shrugged. “Beggas can’t be choosas. Get in.”
At least he tinted the windows. Chidi unlocked the van and sat in the driver’s seat, her feet pushing aside a pile of fast food bags. It smelled like a bum had used it for a combination home and toilet. Covering her nose, she turned the van on and rolled down the windows.
Lenny rooted around in the glove box, finding a GPS under a layer of napkins and ketchup packets. He tossed the junk out the window. Plugging the GPS into the dash, he turned it on and input Garrett’s address.
Chidi wrung her hands. “Lenny, I…well, I wanted to say thanks for—”
“Spit it out already, Cheeds.”
“Thanks for looking out for me.”
“I’m not,” Lenny said.
Chidi felt like he slapped her. “What?”
Lenny crossed his arms. “How many times have I told ya I like to know what’s bein’ said the first time around? I dunno what Gorski promised ya back there, but I know ya didn’t tell me half of it. Not as long as the two of ya talked for.”
“Lenny, I promise it’s not—”
“Save it. Maybe I did look out for ya, once. Not anymore. I brought ya ‘cause I don’t trust ya.”
GARRETT
Garrett pulled at his damp T-shirt.
“Decide to go for a swim after I left?” Johnny asked quietly.
“I ran through the sprinklers again before coming back,” Garrett said. “Can’t believe how hot it is outside.”
He couldn’t tell whether Johnny believed his lie or not. The image of Wilda, the iron grip of the shark-man, even the dwarf who changed into a seal and chased him—Garrett could think of nothing else. They had ridden almost the entire way back to school and Garrett still half-expected his bedside alarm to go off, waking him from what could only be a crazy dream.
“Ugh. Load, you piece of crap phone,” said Mark Yono, their seat neighbor.
Johnny scooted closer to the aisle. “What’s going on?
“My mom just texted me to make sure I was okay,” said Mark. “She said the shark tank at the zoo exploded! It’s all over the news. Can you believe it? We were just there! Oh man, I bet it was some kind of terrorist attack!”
Laura Morris turned around in the seat in front of him. “What would terrorists want to do with Indiana?”
“Not terrorists like suicide bombers or anything,” Mark said. “Animal rights groups I mean. You know, free-the-animals-now type people.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Why would they blow up a shark tank? It could kill the shark!”
“Stop talking about it,” said another girl from three seats up. “It scares me!”
“Yono!” said Johnny. “Turn up the volume so the rest of us can hear.”
Mark flipped his phone around and held it up for everyone to see.
Garrett leaned over to watch.
Onscreen, Indy’s top news anchor, Gia Perez, appeared, her natural beauty marked with appropriate seriousness for the story she relayed. The newsfeed had inserted an Indianapolis Zoo logo in the upper right hand screen beside her, and Garrett took particular notice they added a shark image with its mouth open in an attempt to make the story more terrifying.
Doesn’t do it justice. He looked way scarier than that.
Mark turned up the volume.
“We’re told the incident happened just under an hour ago and almost ended…in tragedy,” Gia said in her most dramatic reporter voice. “With us live at the zoo is Jeremy Myers. Jeremy, was anyone injured, or do zoo officials have any thoughts on how the tank burst?”
The video cut away to a wide panning shot of half a dozen fire trucks and more than a few police cars. Officers stood guard behind barricades. Firemen carried hoses to and from the trucks. Then the camera showed a young reporter with slicked-back hair.
“Good afternoon, Gia,” Jeremy said stoically. “I’m told no one was injured due to the exhibit having been closed for scheduled maintenance repairs. While zoo officials have not disclosed how or why the tank shattered, police have stated reason to suspect it may be due…” he paused for added effect, “to someone tampering with the tank.”
Johnny fumbled at his pocket for a new pack of gum. He unwrapped it just as soon as he found it.
Give me a break, Hickey. You weren’t even there.
The camera cut away again, this time to a fidgety engineer with a piece of acrylic glass, thick as a loaf of bread, on the table in front of him.
“Due to the, uh, structural integrity of these tanks, it would, uh, be almost impossible for them to fracture, let alone break. You can see by this example here,” the engineer presented the acrylic piece toward camera. “The windowpanes for the tanks are extremely dense to, uh, safeguard the public and the animals. Even after extensive aging, it would take a long time and a great deal of pressure for it to break.”
That or a shark-man hammering it over and over again.
The newsfeed cut back to Jeremy. “Unfortunately, we were not allowed on the premises to show the disaster I’m told lay inside. The zoo’s head marine biologist, Dr. Natsuki Gao, told us the shark from the tank has been saved thanks to a team effort of zoo officials. It has since been moved to a separate holding tank for the time being.”
Syd’s mom saved him?
Gia returned to the screen. “Jeremy, you mentioned police officials stated they have reason to suspect the tank had been tampered with. Do they have any suspects or leads at this time?”
Garrett’s stomach clenched.
“I spoke with the chief of zoo security just a few moments ago,” Jeremy said. “He stated wh
ile they do have reason to suspect foul play, they do not have any suspects at this time.”
The camera cut back to Gia. “We will, of course, be providing more updates throughout the night as this story progresses.”
Gia shuffled the notes on her desk as the camera cut to a different angle. A new logo, one of a smiling little girl, replaced the terrifying shark. Like flipping a light switch, Gia turned cheerier than Sydney at a football game.
“In other news, five year old Hope Barnes is living up to her first name by giving a little hope to her community.”
“Whoa! You guys, check it out,” Mark shouted.
The bus had turned into the Tiber High parking lot. A brown and tan sheriff’s car sat parked outside the school’s entrance. Ms. Morgan stood beside it, eyeing each student through the bus windows like a warden would incoming prisoners. She saw Garrett and stopped searching.
Johnny gave another sideways glance at Garrett.
Mr. Lansky stood. “Okay everyone, off the bus and into the school.”
“Why’s the sheriff here again?” Mark asked.
“I don’t know, Mr. Yono, but I’ve been asked—”
“Told, Lansky,” Ms. Morgan ascended the bus steps slowly. “You’ve been told, not asked.”
She steadied herself by gripping the front seat.
“Weaver…” she seemed to relish his name rolling off her tongue. “You’re coming with me.”
She doesn’t know anything, dude…you didn’t do anything. You’ve talked your way out of more than whatever she has on you.
Garrett shouldered his bag and ignored his peers as he marched to the front. He stopped shy of the yellow line when he smelled dead lilies emanating from her aged perfume.
“Where we going?”
“My office…you know the way,” she said. “Hickey. You’re coming too.”
Garrett heard Johnny cough and choke on his gum all the way at the front of the bus. Mark Yono had to smack him on the back several times until Johnny spit it out. Johnny walked the long aisle like a man already convicted, never once daring to chance a look at his vice principal.
After exiting the bus, Ms. Morgan followed both boys into the school. Her pointy-toed shoes clip-clopped off the pavement with every step she took, reminding Garrett of the way Clydesdale hooves did during the carriage rides in downtown Indy.
“Yes, I’m still behind you, Hickey,” she screeched. “Keep walking.”
They entered the school and then the administration office. Sheriff Hullinger awaited them.
“Old habits die hard, eh Hullinger?” Ms. Morgan said. “That’s the same chair you used to sit in when I called you into my office thirty-two years ago.”
Sheriff Hullinger’s face reddened. “That was a long time ago. And I’m a sheriff—”
“Call yourself what you want. To me you’ll always be Dickie Hullinger, the fat boy who was made fun of all through school and became a cop so he could repay the favors,” she said dryly. “Which one do you want first? Weaver prefers to dance around a bit. Hickey is like you as a teen—he’ll squeal all day to not end up in detention. Now what do you want with them?”
“That’s confidential,” Sheriff Hullinger said in a way that suggested he had been waiting thirty years to tell her that. “I’ll take Hickey first.”
“As you please,” Ms. Morgan said. “Weaver, my office. After all, we want to keep your streak of visits alive, don’t we?”
“Sure,” Garrett said. “I’m going for the record.”
“Believe it or not, you’re not the most unruly student I’ve ever had. That record won’t ever be touched,” Ms. Morgan said, turning to the sheriff. “That leaves me with you two; Hickey and Dickie, my two piggies. Shall we?”
“I already told you, Ms. Morgan,” the sheriff huffed. “This is confidential county business.”
“This is my school. I have a right to know.”
Ms. Morgan opened Principal Church’s door. She had to pinch Johnny to make him walk inside. She followed him in and gave Sheriff Hullinger a rap on the arm as she passed.
“Buck up, Dickie! We don’t have all day.”
Sheriff Hullinger reached down to straighten his gun belt before following them in. He closed the door.
Garrett estimated it would take ten minutes for Ms. Morgan to crack Johnny, maybe less with Sheriff Hullinger in the room. All she’ll have to do is say detention and he’ll fold. Garrett could only imagine what Johnny would do if Sheriff Hullinger suggested jail.
He walked into Ms. Morgan’s cold office. Tiber students had nicknamed it the mortuary. He knew the spic-and-span room by heart, but looked around to find anything to take his mind off the day’s events and unpleasant thoughts of Johnny being grilled next door.
Two grey filing cabinets stood in the left corner, which Garrett thought made no sense considering she had a computer on her desk to store files electronically. He did know she locked the file cabinets though, having once snuck in to try and find his disciplinary file.
He would have pegged his vice principal a crazy cat lady, but he saw no pictures of animals or even the cheesy motivational posters most of the school’s classrooms had. Ms. Morgan had only two items to signify life inside her arctic room.
A snow globe with an emperor penguin figurine inside sat atop her left file cabinet. The other, a ‘90s era postcard with a skier in mid-jump and a mountain of snow spray in the background.
Garrett heard the floor creak outside the office door. That didn’t take long…
Sheriff Hullinger entered first and took the seat next to him. Ms. Morgan sat behind her desk, sizing Garrett up like an opponent before a whistle signaled the bout to begin.
“We need you to call your mother, Garrett,” Hullinger said.
“Like…you want me to call my mom with you in the room?”
“Yes, Weaver. Hence the term we,” Ms. Morgan said. “A mother would be concerned I think if her child went through what you have today, and for the second day in a row no less.” She pushed her landline phone toward him. “Dial.”
Garrett punched in his mom’s cell number, praying she wouldn’t pick up. “What if she’s not there?”
“Then we’ll try calling her at the diner,” Hullinger said. He touched the speakerphone button. The dial tone rang several times.
“And if she’s not there either?”
“Then you’ll leave her a kind message informing her you’ll be staying after with me today,” Ms. Morgan said.
Cristina Weaver’s phone went to voicemail.
“Dial the diner.”
Garrett keyed in the numbers. Great. Now the gossip-hungry waitresses will have all sorts of fresh material to feed off of…Cristina Weaver’s kid is in trouble again. No new news.
The dial tone rang. A woman using a way too cheerful and fake customer service voice answered.
“Thank you for calling Gracin’s Grille, this is Geeeeeena, how may I help you?”
Garrett waited for Ms. Morgan to speak first. When she didn’t, he decided she must have stopped breathing. One more perk of the undead.
“Hello?”
“Hey, it's Garrett.”
“Oh,” she dropped her act. “Well, what do you want?”
“Is my Mom there?”
“She has an eight-top right now. We’re pretty busy.”
At 4 p.m. on a Wednesday? Garrett thought. “Would you mind getting her? It's kind of important.”
“You in trouble at school again?”
“Geena, will you just get my mom, please?”
“Oh, fine. Hold on. And for future knowledge, this line is reserved for customers.”
Garrett heard a loud clunk. He guessed she had set the phone down on the countertop. A moment later, his mother’s tired voice echoed from the receiver.
“Garrett? You there?”
“Hey, Mom.”
“What’s going on? Geena said you were in trouble.”
“Ms. Weaver?” Ms. Morgan interrupted.
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“Y-yes…hello, Ms. Morgan.”
Sheriff Hullinger quickly leaned forward. “Hi there, Cristina, this is Sheriff Hullinger. Wanted to let you know I’m here too.”
Ms. Morgan narrowed her eyes at Sheriff Hullinger.
He shrank back in his seat.
“Oh! H-hi, Dick,” Cristina said. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” Ms. Morgan continued. “We felt the need to inform you of a situation that occurred earlier this afternoon with your son.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yes, Ms. Weaver, Garrett is fine.”
“Oh, thank God,” Cristina said. “Wait…did he do something wrong?”
Thanks for the support, Mom.
“Honestly, we’re not sure,” said Sheriff Hullinger. “Ms. Morgan and I thought it best to call and inform you of what we’ve heard so far. We’d also like to hear Garrett’s side, with your approval of course.”
“Of course,” Cristina said. “What did he do?”
“Mom, I didn’t do anything, I swear! I wasn’t even at school today!”
“You skipped school?”
“No, Mom…calm down. I went on a field trip…”
“Um, Garrett. Don’t parents have to sign a permission slip for their kid to go on a field trip?”
Garrett gripped the phone with both hands, wishing he could smash it to pieces on Ms. Morgan’s desk. “Yes, Mom….”
“That’s funny, mister. I don’t remember signing anything. Why is that?”
Ms. Morgan lips parted in a wan smile.
Garrett sighed. “Because I never gave it to you.”
“Uh huh…well, that’s two weeks of being grounded,” Cristina said. “So! Want to tell us all what happened today?”
I would love to, Mom…I talked with a Merrow named Wilda. She was great. Oh! And a shark-man broke the walls of his tank and tried to eat me. Did I forget the part about a dwarf who changed into a seal and chased me?
“Garrett…you there?”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Where was this field trip to?”
“The zoo…”
“Oh my God,” Cristina said. “Where you there when the shark tank exploded?”
Garrett sat up straighter. “Wh-what?”
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