Haunted Organic (2014 Watty Award Winner)

Five: Ticker (Part 2)

Rhonda Blathers, camped outside his lawn, could be heard interviewing the neighbors, asking if they ever suspected that Josie was capable.

"He was a quiet boy," Mrs. Kippelibby could be heard saying, her dog tucked up under her ample upper arms. "The way serial killers are quiet..."

Josie had no idea how school would be tomorrow, but he guessed it would be pure hell.

He was no longer invisible. He couldn't simply put his ear buds in his ears and tune out the world. He was hated and loathed. Even his own parents had been barely able to utter a single word to him since he got home.

He was alone in this. Completely.

&&&&

Josie opened the door to his room. It was the first time he had been there since Trinket disappeared. It was dark, and the new crews had settled into their sleep. He was tired, walking dead.

He wanted to put on some Hayden Calnin and face plant into bed. But something drew him to the window.

He opened it, and stood there, just looking out to the Organic Food Store. The breeze felt good on his face, his skin. But he had this crazy urge. At first it was a niggling tickle, something small, but then it grew, larger and larger until he just couldn't ignore it anymore.

And then, he had no control over it.

He reached his arm out through the opening, and stretched his body through the open window and reached across the little alley to the wall of the store.

He expected it to be cold, like last time. So he braced himself. He pressed his hand into the wall, felt it sear his skin. So cold it burned. And when he did it, he felt her. Trinket, the baby, somewhere near, probably close, inside the Organic Food Store.

Yes, she was in the store.

She was alive.

And Bangkok...he was gone, moving farther away, out at sea gorging on sardines and shrimp, mouthfuls of plankton, his hunger was satiated for now. He was saving her for later, like he was saving the best cookie to eat last. Bangkok wanted to savor Trinket.

But most importantly, Josie could barely feel him. His brain was his own. And Trinket was still alive.

And the only thing between him and Trinket was whatever was keeping her inside the Organic Food Store.

&&&&

So, great. The kid was in the store next to his house.

"Awesome," he said out loud.

"I'll just run over there and get her, and save her from the amphibious giant squid that's going to eat her."

This was a joke. He was no hero. And even if he wanted to be the hero, he didn't have a clue what to do next. He wanted to just sleep and listen to music, until this all went away. And that's what he decided to do.

He turned up The Pogues loud in his ears, and gathered his quilts and pillows.

He decided to sleep in the laundry room, on top of the dryer. As far away from the Organic Food Store as he could.

He had his arms full of bedding, when he saw out of the corner of his eye, a folded piece of paper, flying through the cracked open window. It fell with a plunk on the floor. He stared at it for a moment, half-expecting it to morph into an evil dragon.

He decided to ignore the paper. He ignored it really hard.

It was probably Rhonda Blathers scamming him for an exclusive interview.

He stared at the paper some more, then walked out of the room.

"Crap" he said to himself, mad at his own lack of will power, and he walked back into the room.

He dropped the sheets and quilts and grabbed the note. He unfolded it, slowly, as if a small frog might jump out of it.

It was a stark white paper. Someone had written on it with a black Sharpie.

It said:

Josie -

Meet at my house, midnight. 26 Tamarama. The news crews will be asleep by then. I'll leave the side door open. Find me two rooms on the right..

I know it was Bangkok. I believe you.

Emerald (the new girl)

"I believe you."

He read the note again. "Bangkok." She mentioned the monster by name.

"How does she know?" he wondered.

Was it a trick? A reporter trying to get him alone?

He folded up the note. If he left the house and got caught, they would throw him in juvie. The Barrel had been clear about that.

At ll:52pm, he pulled on his jeans, his sneakers, his black hoodie, pulled the hood over his head so that his face was deep inside. He checked to make sure his parents were sleeping, heard them snoring, their lap tops propped onto their slowly moving chests, as if they grew out of their bodies. He saw that the news vans were dark and silent.

Josie slipped out the window, into the black night, keeping only to the shadows, nervous, but hopeful for the first time, since Trinket went missing.