I hear the grating sound of metal grinding against metal coming from below the surface of the river. Gradually, the crane hoists a large object out of the water. Mud and debris ooze from every crack. I see the outline of a full-sized van and I feel my gut stiffen. My throat closesup. The van. It’s my father’s SUV!
I scream, “Dad! Dad, no!”—and race for the edge of the water. Shouting and shoving everyone aside, I plunge into the murky river. The water closes heavy and cold over my head. I hold my breath and claw against the powerful current. Time and again, I see myfather’s face drift in front of me. I reach out to grab him, but the river is too strong. The more I struggle, the more the current fights me. My lungs ache for air.
“Barry!”
“Ah-hh!” I gasped—and sat up in bed.
Blast it all! Can’t a guy get any sleep around here even on a Saturday?
Then I remembered. Oh, yeah. Gramps’ birthday. Mom was throwing a big party for him today and I forgot to set my alarm. Okay, Mom has had this big party for Grandpa planned for months. And, yes, she did remind me of it yesterday and I totally let it slip. So much for my Saturday snooze-in. Now if that had been Dad’s voice and we were going hunting today . . . . I shoved that memory way back into my mental “nothing” box.
Then I tried to sit up. The pain in my arm made me catch my breath and I groaned.
Man, I need a doctor.
“Barry!” There she is again. My mom loves to yell outside my door. “We need to loadthe car so we can get over to Grandpa’s and go set up for his birthday party.” She turned the doorknob and poked her head into my room. “Oh, good. You’re awake. You need to get a move on.” She paused. “I’ll have breakfast on the table in a few minutes. Can you be ready soon? I’ll need some help carrying the big cooler out to the car.”
Mr. “Help.” Yup. That’s my middle name. Ugh. This day is already too long.
Dad never yelled at me. He always opened the door with a quiet, “G’mornin’ son. Wanna go for a run today or hit the weights for a half hour? Your choice.” How I miss him. I swallowed hard.
Okay, a morning person I’m not. But with Mom, there’s no point in arguing. I hauled myself out of bed, shuffled to the bathroom, and stared into the mirror. I saw a skinny kid with grocery sacks under his eyes and a crop of rusted spikes on his head. Stupid hair. And my face. It looked like I’d been dragged across a chain link fence. If I slept last night, I sure don’t remember it. I tried splashing cold water on my face. It didn’t work. I wandered back to my room and dropped, head first, onto my bed like a bag of cement. Ouch! Forgot about my arm.
I rolled over and fumbled around in the closest drawer next to my bed hoping something easy would fall out. I grabbed a pair of jeans. Swinging my legs out I began the chore of pulling them on. My arm was so stiff that, by the time I was done, I was in a cold sweat. But get this: When I tried to stand, the floor came up and whopped me in the face.
Mom knocked on mydoor. “You okay in there?”
I peeled my cheek off the tiles. “Yeah.” I mumbled, wheezing.
“Hurry along. Breakfast is just about ready.”
Now getting up off the floor with only one good arm takes coordination, which, as you know, is not my strong suit.
“Coming,” I muttered.
The short trip to the kitchen table wiped me out. I slumped down in the nearest chair and cradled my head in my arms.
“Another bad night?” Mom asked.
“Mm-uh,” I mumbled.
“Same dream again?” asked Mom.
I tried to lift my head but it was too heavy. “I just wish it would go away, Mom. I am so fried.”
“I know, dear. The counselor did warn us; it’s just part of the grieving process.”
Then I couldn’t help it. I bawled like a baby. “I should have tried to save him, Mom,” I sobbed. “I’m such a coward.”
My mom sighed and placed her arm around my shoulders. “Barry, don’t do this to yourself. There were dozens of grown men that refused to go near the flooded river that night.”
I snuffled and said, “But, Mom, how come they never found his body?”
Mom knelt beside me. “Son, look at me,” she said. “We’ve been over this before. Think about it. It’s been six months without any sign of him. We have to face facts and get on with our lives.”
Gee, Mom, you are so tough. But when she moved back to her stove, I heard her sniff and catch her breath.
Jenny appeared and slipped into a chair next to me. I turned my back to wipe my face. Bet my eyes are still red. But she didn’t look at me. She didn’t say one word either. She just poured herself some cereal, gobbled it down in three minutes, and left.
So, what am I now? Chopped liver?
By this time, Mom was headed for the car so I knew I’d better grab a bagel and follow. She had already loaded everything. Oops. Sorry Mom.
I opened the car door. Rats. Mom had put the ice chest in the front seat. Looked like I was sharing the back seat with the Ice Princess. Oo-oo-kay-yy. Here goes nuthin’.
“Mornin’ Jen,” I said. Jenny didn’t answer. I couldn’t help noticing that, the moment I slid onto the seat next to her, she sucked in her breath. Then she scooted over to the far side of the car.
Hey, Snoot Face, why don’t you just hug and kiss that door while you’re at it? Crud. Why does she treat me like dog barf? Last night her eyes drilled holes in my back. Todayshe won’t even look me in the eye. And I still get the silent treatment.
Not for the first time did it occur to me that Jenny knew something. But what? How could she possibly know about . . . ? Naw.
I sighed, settled my sore left arm in a safe nook on the door, and forced myself to watch the cars on the freeway. For a Saturday morning, the traffic reminded me of a scene out of “It’s a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World.” Drivers raced from stoplight to stoplight, careening across lanes, and cutting in front of anyone they pleased.
The psych ward must be missing a few loonies today, I thought.
Without warning, Mom swerved to avoid a sideswipe.
“Look out!” she warned.
The awkward pitch sent Jenny sprawling onto my leg in spite of her seat belt. She groaned and straightened up. As she did, she glanced up at my face. All of a sudden, she stiffened and sucked in her breath. Again, I saw a curtain of blue around her and her eyes showed total panic. Gasping, she said, “Something . . . is very . . . wrong with you, Barry.”
Oh, like duh-h-h . . . .
“What do you mean?” I snapped. “I feel fine.”
Jenny shook her head, still staring wild-eyed at me. How strange. Her face is pasty white. She made to touch me again, but snatched her hand back. Then she reached out and, this time, planted her hand firmly on my knee.
I heard her squeal. I glanced up front to see how Mom was taking the racket but she had the radio on. Good thing.
I bit my lip. Jenny was so ticking me off. I wondered if she really was trying to get me in trouble.
I blew it off. “C’mon, get a grip!” I scoffed. “This is just an act. You’re making me out to be some kind of creep.”
“Wait,” said Jenny. She rifled through her little purse and pulled out a pocket mirror. “Watch what happens when I touch you,” she whispered.
Okay. So I held the mirror in front of me while my twerpy little sister placed her hand back on my leg.
What I saw in the mirror knocked the air out of me.
My head! No way! I’m a giant tomato. My eyes are little black dots and my mouth—it looks like a . . . a trout.
When Jenny lifted her hand off my arm my face returned to normal.
That did it. I couldn’t help it. I flew into a full blown rage.
“It’s just one of your tricks!” I hissed through clenched teeth. I tossed the little mirror back at her just in time to see her chin snap up. At the next stoplight, I saw Jenny’s eyes narrow and . . . oh no! She’s poking Mom! Great. Now I’m toast.
“Hey, Mom!” Je
nny said with a nervous little snigger. “Turn around. Watch this.”
Traitor. At that moment I could have cheerfully throttled one bratty little sister. I wanted to melt into the seat.
Jenny reached over and slapped her hand down on my kneecap.
“See it, Mom? Can you see it?” Jenny said, her voice squeaking.
Mom checked me out in the rearview mirror, and then looked over at Jenny. “I guess I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear. Whatis it I’m supposed to see?”
Jenny’s face was priceless. “You don’t see anything weird about the way Barrylooks?” she asked.
Mom adjusted her rearview mirror to get a better look. I felt like a monkey in a zoo.
“No,” she said. “Nothing that a good haircut wouldn’t take care of, that is.” She turned herself back around and started the car forward. Glancing back at Jenny, Mom said, “Sweetheart, you know I’ve spoken to you before about annoying Barry. I want you to put your hands in your lap, and keep them there for the rest of this trip. Do you hear me?”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Jenny.
I snorted. Then I put my thumbs in my ears, wiggled my fingers, and crossed my eyes. I gave her my snarky head wobble. Serves you right, you little dweeb. Your tattling backfired. What a hoot!
Okay, so I had to admit the obvious. Jenny was seeing weird stuff and I was too. I watched her turn toward the window, tuck in her chin, and tighten her lips so they almost disappeared between her teeth. But when I saw a large tear roll down Jenny’s cheek, my eyeballs nearly fell out of my head. Not possible. My little sister— crying?
Again, when I remembered all the strange happenings of the last twenty hours, I broke out in an icy sweat. Oh, Dad, if only you were here to talk to, to help me make sense of all this. How could you leave me when I needed you the most? Again, I choked back my own tears.
Everyone thought the birthday bash for Gramps was a big success—everyone except Jenny and I, that is. One would have thought the other had a disease the way we avoided each other all day. Jenny, as somber as the Grim Reaper, did not speak a word, but watched my every move. If I went out on the deck, she spied on me from a nearby window. If I went for a stroll around the backyard, she crept up behind me.
“I feel like I’m under FBI surveillance,” I muttered and heaved a deep sigh. I could be the main character in Zombieland. The thought set my teeth on the edge. And how come Jenny knew something was wrong but Mom didn’t?
Then a terrifying thought hit me. My monster head! I stopped on the path, a fierce foreboding stabbing me like a ninja dagger. The lizard tail! What if . . . what if that lizard tail had infected me with a terrible disease? Criminy! What if I was mutating into one of those awful ghouls like the one at the arcade? I was a dead man walking. I really could be contagious!
If only I had stayed away from Carl Lumpskin none of this would have happened. Note to self: In the future, give monsterinfected bullies a wide berth.
I had to find someplace to hide. Mom’s gonna kill me for leavin’ Gramps’ party but I’ve got to get out of here. What if everyone at the party got sick? I need a place to think—somewhere away from Jenny’s snooping. All of a sudden, I felt sick and for the second time in two days, I threw up.
Then I was really wiped. I found a bed of moss behind some large shrubs in my grandfather’s backyard. Taking care not to bump my injured arm, I stretched myself out on the moss. My brain felt like a grilled cheeseburger. A light breeze ruffled the trees above my head. Brilliant autumn reds, oranges, and yellows caught the rays of the warm sun. It was a gorgeous Indian summer day. I closed my eyes. Ah, finally. Peace. I hadn’t felt this relaxed since . . . . As I dozed off, I had the distinct feeling that I was floating.
All of a sudden, a loud voice right above me chuckled, “Well, there you are! Welcome back, Master Barrington.”
I sat up with a jolt!
“What’s this . . .?”
I looked around. All I could see was blinding white. Almost afraid to breathe, I lifted my head.
“Oh no. Not again . . . !”
Gazing down at me were two of the most gigantic baby blues I had ever seen.
CHAPTER 5: GIANT!
“There will always be someone more powerful than you. The secret is to beseech the protection of one who is not only powerful but also good. ~Martin Moonglow
I scrubbed my eyes. I didn’t think anything else could surprise me considering allI’d been through lately, but this—this was off the charts. Now I was sure I had one foot on a banana peel and the other in the slime of insanity.
The large eyes belonged to a very large face. The large face belonged to . . . wait. There was something warm under my hands. I gulped. Using my fingers I tested what it was I was sitting on. It felt familiar. Then I looked down.
“ Ah-h-h! Skin! I’m sitting on skin!” Whirling around, I slammed into a massive thumb and fingers. “A hand! I’m sitting on a humongous hand!” Scooting back against the fingers, I looked up at the large features hovering over me and gasped.
The giant’s skin glowed almost white, and his clothes seemed to be dotted with millions of diamonds. His hair, like snow caught in a blizzard, billowed around his face and into his eyes. And those eyes. Blue as a summer sky. And they had to be the size of turkey platters.
I peered over the edge of the hand and swallowed hard. My grandfather’s neighborhood was now nothing but toy houses surrounded by tiny trees swaying in the breeze. The sight made me woozy.
“Criminy! I must be up a hundred feet,” I muttered to myself. The giant roared again.
“Aha!” he shouted. “Ee -yiee!” I slapped my hands over my ears. The giant’s bellow was like a heavy metal band at full volume.
“I thought you were lost for good!” the behemoth blasted. “I am so delighted to see you again, young man. Yes, indeed!” Then to my shock, the creature began to close up his hand—with me in it!
“No!” I yelled. I dove for the closest finger and pinched it with all my might. The giant let out a loud grunt and opened his hand again.
“A bit cheeky today, I see,” he said, clucking at me, his voice softer now. “After your disappearing act this last two weeks, I guess I should not be surprised at your impudence.” Again I felt the massive hand closing around me.
“No! Wait!” I shouted.
This time the creature relaxed his fingers more slowly. I saw the giant blink and a quizzical look spread across his face. I sat stock-still. The giant brought his palm up close to his face. Now I was only a few feet from one enormous nostril.
Yo. I can see nose hairs half way up to your brain, big guy.
Using my last ounce of nerve, I yelled, “Stop! Who . . . who areyou and . . . and what do you want with me?”
The giant frowned and went very still. Then he smiled. Cocking his head to one side, he whispered—even his whispers were loud—“ If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to talk to me, Master Barry.”
At that, I jumped up and stomped my foot.
“I amtalking to you, you big lummox!” I shouted.
Then I lost my balance.
“Wa-a-hoh!” I howled. I grabbed for the closest finger and latched onto it with all my might. Then, over my shoulder I hollered, “Tell me who you are. And how is it you know my name?”
The giant froze and studied me in silence for a full minute. Then, without a word, he began to stretch skyward until his shoulders just went poof! into the clouds above.
I blinked. Great. Not only has Godzilla trapped me a hundred feet above ground but now he goes headless on me. Maybe my question scared him. I shook my fist toward the sky and shouted, “You come back here and talk to me!”
Out of nowhere, lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. Then I heard the sound of a fierce wind. Now,I don’t know if I told you, but I’m a home-grown Missouri boy. I knew what that sound was.
“Tornado!” I screamed and flung myself flat on the great hand. “I’m going to be blown to bits.”
Okay, that was when I knew I was cracking up. I was seeing weird things. I was hearing weird things. And now my nightmares were showing up in broad daylight. I had to face it. I was a total nut case. Might as well throw in the towel.
I curled up in a tight ball. Check out time.
CHAPTER 6: THE MISSION
“Sometimes answers create even more questions. We must accept the fact that we will never know everything.” ~Martin Moonglow Meanwhile, the giant had embarked on a quest. “Oh Great One! I would have an audience with you!”
Silence.
In a more humble tone, the giant called out again, “Oh Honorable Majesty, I need to speak with you.”
A booming voice shattered the quiet afternoon. “Here I am, Martin! What brings you here today? You sound upset.”
“Thank you for granting me an audience, Your Excellency,” said the giant. Then he came right to the point. “I have a strange puzzle for you. First, my charge, Master Barrington Klutzenheimer, goes missing for two weeks. Then, today, when I find him, he acts like he can see me.”
More silence. Then the Voice spoke. “No doubt it’s because he can see you, Martin.”
There was a pregnant pause.
“What!” the giant exploded. Then he began to sputter. “Master Barrington can . . . he can. . . he can see me? How is this?”
“Martin, it just is. That is all,” said the Voice.
“But Your Grace, we keepers have remained anonymous for hundreds of millennia. Hasn’t this always been your supreme command? I do not understand, Sire.”
The Blood Jewel (The Shomara Diaries Book 1) Page 3