The daredevils, p.7
The Daredevils, page 7
Loretta wiped her tears and managed to gain control and refocus. Once again, she gripped the box and lifted the top.
This time Louie and I sprang forward to see what was inside and smacked heads in a wicked collision. We fell over groaning and holding fresh goose eggs. Forget the gauze, now I needed an ice pack. Loretta got another good laugh and then began sifting through the contents without us.
“There’s nothing here,” she groaned, shoving the box in disgust. “I should’ve never listened to you and your stupid ideas about a treasure.”
Louie and I sat up and pulled the box closer. It was true; there wasn’t much in it. I found a lighter, a small Buzz Lightyear action figure, an orange rabbit’s foot, and a cassette tape (at least, I think that’s what it was called). I picked up each object and inspected them one by one. Louie lifted a yellowed magazine off the bottom.
“Whoa,” he whispered.
He closed it and handed it to me without saying anything more. Whoa, was right. This wasn’t just any old magazine. It was a dirty magazine. My eyes popped.
“Give me that!” Loretta snapped when she realized what I had.
“No way! You’re not our mother, and besides, you had your chance. You said there was nothing in there.”
“That’s something P.E. Bubba would have,” she shrieked. “Give it to me.”
She lunged for the magazine, but I was too quick. I yanked it out of her reach.
Now she was angry. “Look at that,” I said to Louie, egging her on. I hadn’t actually seen anything.
Loretta lunged again, this time with extra aggression. She connected with my arm and sent the magazine flying through the air. A small piece of paper fell from its fluttering pages. The paper flipped, swooped, and gently floated to the ground in front of us.
It was a piece of paper that would change our lives forever.
I picked up the paper and read it aloud.
“Dear Seeker, the purpose of this box is twofold: First, it serves as a time capsule. Inside are several sentimental artifacts, sacrificed in the interest of storytelling…in case I don’t make it home.”
I swallowed, then glanced at my brother and Louie.
“Is there more?” Louie asked, taking a puff from his inhaler.
I nodded, then looked down and continued. “Second, this box presents your quest. I challenge you to make similar sacrifices, and I dare you to find and conquer your own rite of passage, as I prepare to face my own. In doing so, may we find ourselves.”
I glanced at my brother and Louie a second time before reading the last line. They were hanging on to every word. I took a deep breath. “And know this,” I read. “Whether I’m here or someplace else, I’ll always be with you. Ron.”
Dear Seeker:
The purpose of this box is twofold:
First, it serves as a time capsule. Inside are several sentimental artifacts, sacrificed in the interest of history and storytelling—in case I don’t make it home.
Second, this box presents your quest. I challenge you to make similar sacrifices, and I dare you to find and conquer your own rite of passage, as I prepare to face my own. In doing so, may we find ourselves.
And know this. Whether I’m here or someplace else, I’ll always be with you.
RON
I lowered the paper and slowly let the air out of my lungs. The three of us sat in silence, feeling the weight of the words I’d just read.
“So these are sentimental artifacts,” Louie mused, turning Buzz Lightyear over in his hand.
“That’s what the note says,” I replied. “There’s a story behind every item in there.”
“Wish we knew the stories,” he said, “and who Ron was.”
“Yeah, but that’s not what’s important,” Waylon responded. “The Forest Spirits have spoken. We’ve been given a quest.”
“I don’t know,” Louie worried, shaking his head.
“We must accept the challenge,” Waylon implored. “Otherwise we risk disappointing the spirits—and ourselves.”
“Waylon’s right,” I agreed. “We can do this.” I certainly didn’t know what I was getting myself into, but the way I saw it, here was my chance for more Mr. Miyagi. I couldn’t afford to pass it up.
Waylon’s chest swelled. With me on his side, he knew it was happening.
Louie’s shoulders sagged. “So what’s next?” he asked, giving in.
“A second fire ceremony,” Waylon answered. “A ceremony of sacrifices. We must come prepared to make ours.”
“When you say sacrifices…you don’t plan on killing something…do you?” Louie asked hesitantly.
“No!” I shouted, not even giving my brother the chance to consider that. “Absolutely not!” I emphasized. “That sort of stuff is only for the movies. We’re not in King Kong or Indiana Jones. The note says we must sacrifice something personally sentimental. That’s all.”
“Phew,” Louie replied, wiping his brow and taking another puff from his inhaler.
“We should wait a few days before holding the ceremony,” Waylon suggested. “If we disappear again tomorrow, Mom’s liable to start asking questions, and we’ve already got Dad to worry about. Plus, we need time to plan our sacrifices.”
“You’re right,” I agreed.
I turned to Louie. “We’ll give it until Friday, and then we’ll be at your house at midnight.”
He took a deep breath. “Okay,” he conceded. “Just be careful. My mom can’t catch us or—”
“Else,” I finished. “Or else. I know.”
“Yeah, or else,” he repeated.
Waylon left the fortress with unwavering conviction and excitement that afternoon.
Louie, on the other hand, left worried on top of scared. Two puffs from his inhaler didn’t help that.
I left with a dirty magazine in my pack. I refused to let those two have another look at that smut.
Sacrifices and dares and rites of passage. It all sounded crazy—even dangerous. But my scrawny brother—who I thought wasn’t tough—was brave and determined if he was anything at all, so he wasn’t backing down. He was ready to take the challenge and discover what lay ahead. In fact, he wouldn’t stop talking about it.
“Have you decided what you’ll be sacrificing yet?” he asked me Sunday night. He didn’t want me to tell him what because he said it needed to be a surprise, something between me and the Forest Spirits. He only wanted to know if I’d reached a decision.
“No,” I answered.
“Have you decided what you’ll be sacrificing yet?” he asked me again on Monday morning.
“No,” I answered again.
“Have you decided what you’ll be sacrificing yet?” he asked me (for the hundredth time) on Monday night.
“No,” I answered (for the hundredth time). “Why are you so excited to get rid of something anyway?”
“Loretta, this is a pivotal moment in our lives. This isn’t about fun. It’s about finding out who we are. I’m scared more than anything else.”
Up till then, I’d been thinking of sacrificing an old hair scrunchie or magazine of my own. Tell you the truth, other than when Waylon pestered me about it, I hadn’t given it much thought. But once Waylon told me he was scared, I realized this was far more serious.
The good news: I still had time to prepare before the special fire ceremony. The bad news: I had to return to camp before that. If there was a way for me to sacrifice P.E. Bubba to the fire, trust me, I would’ve—especially after he messed with Waylon.
Being camp director meant P.E. got to do next to nothing while his hired counselors took care of running the show. He did what he had to on the first day, but since then, he got his kicks out of driving around with the top down in his fancy sports car, going from location to location to check on the various groups, making it seem like he was actually doing something when he wasn’t.
These were pertinent details for what ultimately happened, but before I get ahead of myself with car stories, I need to mention some other developments. First off, camp wasn’t all bad. Now that P.E. had assumed the role of driving around, I wasn’t stuck looking at his face—or belly. All I had to do was play sports—and I actually enjoyed that. And since Waylon was tucked away with his robot peeps in a safe place across the road, I didn’t need to worry about him—or so I thought.
Our counselors gave us the choice between participating in basketball or soccer. I went with soccer because even though I didn’t have a lot of experience, I was fast. As fast or faster than anyone else on the field, even in my bald sneakers on the wet grass—and it was wet! It had rained buckets overnight.
My socks and sneakers were soaked by the end of our game and I hate wet socks, but even so, I had fun. I scored three goals and high-fived two girls whose names I didn’t even know. (I later learned they were Grace and Alyssa.) Like I said, camp wasn’t that bad—until we returned to the youth center and I spotted Waylon standing on the other side of the road, getting ready to cross so that he could join the rest of us waiting for our rides. But before he did, there was a girl, equal in his height, who called his name from behind. Waylon turned and smiled when he saw her. What he didn’t see was the fancy sports car approaching. P.E. veered into a big puddle as he neared my brother, sending a wave of water into the air that drenched Waylon from head to toe.
The girl, whoever she was, came running. When she caught up to him, Waylon just looked at her and shrugged. Then they laughed. Laughed! She never even seemed to apologize for distracting him. That was it. I didn’t trust her. Had she seen P.E. coming and tricked my brother?
I can tell you this: I wasn’t laughing, especially when P.E. came waltzing from his car with that stupid grin on his face, acting like he didn’t know what had just happened. What was my rule? Don’t mess with my brother. P.E. Bubba was gonna get what was coming to him—and this time it was going to be worse than a penalty kick.
But he wasn’t the only thing that irked me. Waylon was still standing with that girl—even though he’d crossed to my side of the road now. Who did she think she was? She’d better watch her step or she was gonna be answering to me.
I made sure to get to breakfast before my sister on Wednesday morning so that I could fill Dad in on my plan. I didn’t like tricking Loretta, but that was the only way I was going to get away without her following me or trying to tag along. Dad was okay with me going to the library because this was part of us showing my sister that I was capable on my own—and also because I didn’t tell him everything. It wasn’t that I was worried he’d object, but if Dad knew I was meeting up with a girl, then he’d have questions—lots of them.
Penelope asked me if I wanted to meet up at the library after our robotics teacher recommended that we play chess and other strategy games if we were serious about computers and programming. Stevens Library had a beautiful chess set and table for their patrons to use. I liked chess, but I also liked hanging out with Penelope. She had gone to a different elementary school in town, so we’d never been together before. She was super smart and super cool, and I was already excited about attending middle school with her—but I had to be careful.
Loretta had grilled me about “that girl” after she’d seen Penelope and me hanging out together after camp. “Who is she? Did she see P.E. coming and trick you so that you’d get splashed?”
“Her name is Penelope, and no, she didn’t trick me,” I said. “She doesn’t like P.E. any more than you do. She made a joke about the sun gleaming off his bald head, which was why we were laughing. You need to relax.”
“I don’t trust her. You need to be careful.”
I didn’t say anything more, but I heeded Loretta’s advice. I was being careful—around her! I waited until my sister got engrossed in one of her movies, and then I made my getaway.
Penelope was waiting for me when I rolled up to the bike rack outside the library. We parked side by side and went into the building. The chess table was open, so we got to sit down right away—which was a relief because I couldn’t disappear on Loretta for too long.
“White goes first,” Penelope said.
I glanced over my shoulder, making sure I wasn’t followed, then settled in. “Who taught you to play?” I asked her after making my move.
“My dad. And you?” She slid her pawn forward.
“Same. Though my mom is probably a better player.”
Penelope smiled. “What do your parents do?”
I told her about Dad being a psychologist and Mom a vet while analyzing the board.
“Really? I love animals,” Penelope gushed. “Animals aren’t judgmental like people. My dog, Chief, loves me no matter what.”
“Chief?” I mused. “Is Chief a big dog?” I pushed my castle ahead.
“No,” she giggled. “He’s—”
“A little guy with a big name,” I said before she could finish.
“Exactly. How’d you guess?”
“And he screams when he gets his shots?” I added.
“Yes,” she said. “How’d you know that?”
“My mom is Dr. Neal, your vet. She told us all about Chief. She really likes your dog.”
“Chief really likes her,” Penelope said. “And so do I.”
“Yeah, she’s okay,” I replied.
Penelope laughed. Then she moved her knight to the right two spaces and back one. “Check.”
Check? Already? Whoa! I studied the board, then looked up and returned her smile. She was good. I moved out of danger and asked about her parents next.
I needed to pay better attention before she had me trapped, but that wasn’t happening. I heard something behind me and spun around, scared that it could be Loretta showing up unannounced. Had she tracked me down?
I exhaled when I saw that it was just the librarian reshelving books, but that was enough to put me on edge. Whenever it wasn’t my turn, I was glancing around the room. Loretta never appeared, but I didn’t push it. After two games—Penelope won both—I decided to get going.
First, though, I asked Penelope to make a pit stop with me at the nonfiction area of the library so that I could find a book about sacrifices.
“Interesting” was her remark when she saw what I’d selected.
“Research,” I replied, and left it at that.
The truth was I needed an alibi ready for Loretta, a way to explain why I’d disappeared on her. When I showed her the book and mentioned something about human sacrifices, she’d freak out and forget all about me ditching her—I hoped.
After checking out my book, Penelope and I exited the library and grabbed our bikes from the rack. I stashed the book in the basket attached to my front handlebars and was clipping the strap on my helmet when she started waving to someone behind me.
I whipped around, thinking it was Loretta. But Penelope didn’t know my sister. I hadn’t pointed her out at camp. I was being paranoid. Unfortunately, that wasn’t a relief because seeing who Penelope was waving to made me even jumpier.
Standing across the road, leaf blower in hand, was Leon Hurd. What happened next was an involuntary reflex. I waved. And then I immediately looked away after realizing what a terrible mistake I’d just committed.
“You know him?” I croaked.
“Leon and his brother mow our lawn,” Penelope explained.
I gulped. “He’s a mean kid.”
“He’s always friendly to me,” she said, sticking up for him.
“Yeah, well, he’s not nice in school,” I countered.
“My dad told me life hasn’t been easy for him. His mom left when he was little.”
That was sad. Maybe there was more to Leon Hurd than any of us knew, but I still wasn’t so sure “friendly” was a word I’d ever use to describe him. “Well, guess I’ll see you at camp,” I said, climbing on my bike.
“See you,” she said.
As I pedaled down the sidewalk, I glanced in Leon Hurd’s direction. He saw me and held my gaze. I pushed my pedals a lot harder.
Next up, my sister. Talking to Leon Hurd would’ve been less scary.
Loretta was waiting for me in the garage when I got home. She stood with her arms folded and feet planted, scowling. Forget the wolf—she was a king cobra, hood flared, ready to strike. As you know, I’m not good with snakes.
“Since when do we ditch each other?” she hissed, coming at me before I’d even parked my bike.
I climbed off my seat and put the kickstand down. “You were watching a movie, and I didn’t want to bother you. It was only a quick trip.”
“I don’t call three hours a quick trip. What if you’d run into Leon Hurd? That kid has been around every turn, stalking us.”
I thought about telling her but stopped short. If she knew that I’d seen him and escaped unharmed, she might consider it luck and see my near-death experience as proof that I shouldn’t go anywhere without her, that I needed her by my side at all times, and the goal was to show her the exact opposite.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to be gone so long. I started reading and lost track of the time.”
She eyed the book I had in my basket.
I picked it up. “Don’t freak out,” I said, “but it’s a look at the history of sacrifices. From crazy scary stuff like human offerings back in the 1400s and earlier, to animal sacrifices, to more recent stuff.”
“Jeez, Waylon. Now you’re scaring me. What exactly do you have planned?”
“Nothing like that, so relax. We’ve been challenged to part with sentimental artifacts, like Andy did at the end of Toy Story 3. Remember when he gave Buzz and Woody and the rest of the gang to that little girl Bonnie?”
