The Merchant of Death tpa-1 Page 4

  Standing there was Andy Mitchell. He was leaning casually against the wall, smoking a cigarette. “Jeez, you been in there a long time, Dimond. Everything come out all right?” Mitchell gave a stupid grin like this was a truly clever line.

  Mark froze for a second, feeling as if he had been caught doing something wrong.

  “I’m f-f-fine.” When Mark got nervous, he had a little stutter. It wasn’t a horrible thing, just something that came out under stress.

  Mitchell expertly flipped his cigarette across the room and it landed in one of the urinals. Bull’s-eye. Ordinarily Mark would have been grossed out by that, but his mind was on other things right now.

  “It’s cool,” said Mitchell. “What you do in the privacy of the can is your business. What’s in the pack?”

  Mark clutched the pack to his chest as if it contained precious papers. Which in fact, it did. His mind raced. What was the one thing he could say that Mitchell would accept and not ask more questions? The answer was clear.

  “P-Playboys.”

  Mitchell gave a lascivious grin. “You dog. Lemme see.” He reached for the pack but Mark yanked it away and backed toward the door.

  “S-Sorry. I’m late.” Before Mitchell could say another word, Mark turned and ran from the room. He didn’t know where he was going, but he ran anyway. The words from the pages kept running through his head. Could this story be true? This was the kind of stuff you saw in the movies or read in graphic novels. People made this stuff up for entertainment. It wasn’t real.

  He probably would have dismissed the whole thing as a work of fiction, except for the strange visitor he had the night before and the ring on his finger that made these pages appear on the bathroom floor. They were both real as can be. There was no logical explanation for what happened, so therefore all the normal rules of reality had to be tossed out the window. He needed to talk to Bobby. But if this story were true, Bobby was indisposed at the moment and not available for questioning.

  It was nine thirty in the morning. Mark and Bobby should have been in geometry class. Of course, Mark wasn’t there because he was too busy running frantically through the empty halls of Stony Brook Junior High like a nutburger. Somehow geometry didn’t seem all that important right now. But he swung by the classroom anyway, praying that he’d find Bobby sitting at his desk.

  Mark approached the door warily. He took a breath and looked in to see that Bobby’s desk was empty. Not good. Mark didn’t know where to turn. He had to talk to somebody, but who? He wanted to share what was going on, but more important, he needed confirmation that he wasn’t totally out of his mind. That’s when the answer came to him. There was one person who could verify part of the story. Courtney Chetwynde.

  The gym classes at Stony Brook were normally segregated, boys from girls. The only time the classes were coed was for gymnastics when they had to share the apparatus. The rest of the time there was a huge, collapsible wall drawn between the boys’ gym and the girls’ gym. However, there was one other exception to the rule.

  That was Courtney Chetwynde. When it came to team sports, Courtney didn’t play with the girls. She was tall and strong, and the advantage she had over most girls was unfair. So even though it went against every rule of the school system and the county and the state, Courtney was allowed to play with the guys. No one complained, either. The girls were just as happy not to have to deal with her whupping up on them all the time. And after she proved herself to the guys, which took all of thirty seconds, they welcomed her. And they didn’t cut her any slack either. In fact, most of the guys feared her. When Courtney played, it was full speed all the way around.

  And her game was volleyball.

  Wham!Courtney leaped high over the net and spiked the ball off the head of her poor opponent. The guy was stunned silly and Courtney landed gracefully before the ball hit the ground.

  “Point break,” she said with a smile. Courtney never showed mercy. It was her serve now and the ball was bounced to her.

  “C’mon, C. C.”

  “Let’s go!”

  “Game point!”

  Courtney had a killer serve and everyone expected this to be the final nail in the coffin. But as she walked to the service line, something caught her eye. It was Mark Dimond. The little guy was waving at her frantically from outside the gym door. As soon as he got her attention, he started motioning for her to come over. Courtney raised a finger as if to say, “Wait one second,” but that made Mark wave even harder. He would not be denied.

  Courtney frowned and tossed the ball to one of her teammates. “You serve,” she said and headed toward Mark.

  “What?” the teammate yelled in shock. “It’s game point!”

  “I know. Don’t blow it.”

  The guys watched her in wonder for a moment, then turned back to the game with a shrug. Though none of them would admit it, the guys from the other team breathed a little sigh of relief.

  Courtney headed straight for the door and threw it open to find Mark waiting in the empty hallway.

  “This better be good,” she said impatiently.

  Mark waffled back and forth nervously, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Courtney watched him for a second and then said, “You have to pee?”

  “N-No. I…I…it’s about Bobby.”

  Courtney’s gray eyes focused. “Where is he? Why didn’t he play last night?”

  Mark hesitated as if not wanting to ask the next question. But he did. “D-Did you guys make out at his house last night?”

  Courtney stared at him, not exactly sure she heard what she thought she just heard. Then she blew a gasket. “That’s what you got me over here for? He missed the biggest game of the year and…wait a minute…did Bobby tell you about us? I’ll kill him!”

  “C–Courtney…wait…it’s not like that.” Mark tried to stop her angry tirade, but Courtney was on a roll.

  “I don’t care who he is. He can’t go around telling private stuff that-”

  “Stop!” shouted Mark.

  Courtney did, mostly because she was so surprised Mark had made such a bold move. That wasn’t like him. They both looked at each other, not sure of where to go next.

  Mark now had her attention and it was up to him to make the next move. When he spoke, it was slow and thoughtful. He didn’t want to stutter and he didn’t want to make a mistake. So he pushed his glasses back up on his nose and said, “I think something strange happened to Bobby. What went on between you two last night was a part of it. I…I’m sorry if it upsets you, but I’ve got to know. Did you two make out at his house last night?”

  Courtney tried to read Mark. He was a shy guy and the fact that he’d ask a personal question like this was hugely out of character. Clearly there was more going on here than guys bragging to each other about getting to first base with a girl. She could see it in his eyes. Mark was scared.

  “Yeah,” she said. “We did. Where is he?”

  “I…I don’t know,” he said, downcast. “I hope he’s at his house. Will you come with me and talk to him?”

  The two held eye contact for a long time. Courtney was trying to read Mark’s thoughts, and Mark was praying that Courtney would come with him so he could share some of the burden of what he knew. Maybe she could even help him figure things out.

  Courtney walked past Mark and gave him a simple, quick, “Let’s go.”

  Courtney was now on a mission. She wanted to talk to Bobby. If she had to go to his house to find him, so be it. Mark was relieved that he now had an ally, but he had no idea how to tell Courtney what he knew, or if she’d believe him. For now though, he was happy just to have someone to talk to.

  The Pendragons lived on a quiet cul-de-sac not far from school. It was lunchtime, so Courtney and Mark figured they could reach Bobby’s house, get to the bottom of what was going on, and be back at school before anyone missed them. As they hurried up the sidewalk, Mark had to walk quickly to keep up with Courtney’s long, purposeful strides. He wanted to te
ll her about the visitor he had had the night before, and the ring, and the parchment with Bobby’s story, but he was afraid she’d dismiss him as a mental case. He had to choose his words carefully.

  “Do you know Bobby’s Uncle Press?” he asked cautiously.

  “Yeah.”

  “Did, uh, did you see him last night?”

  “Unfortunately. He’s the guy who caught us making out.”

  Mark’s heart sank. Not that it mattered if Bobby and Courtney made out, or that they were caught by Bobby’s uncle. The problem was, Courtney’s answer confirmed more of the story contained on the parchment papers. Mark feared that if some of the story were true, then maybe all of it was true. The thought made him sick.

  They were nearly at Bobby’s house now. Mark hoped that Bobby would be there to settle everything. He imagined walking up to Bobby, holding out the parchment paper, and seeing Bobby bust out laughing. Bobby would say it was all a goof and that he never expected them to think it was real. It was a prank, like Orson Welles’s “War of the Worlds” radio broadcast that made everybody think the Earth was being invaded by Martians. That’s what Mark was hoping for, but what they both saw in the next instant dashed that hope entirely.

  Two Linden Place. That was the address. Mark had been there a thousand times. Ever since kindergarten they’d trade off playing at each other’s house. Bobby’s house was like his second home. Mrs. Pendragon called Mark her second son. That’s why nothing could prepare him for what he was about to see. Courtney and Mark walked up the sidewalk that led to the split-rail fence that surrounded Bobby’s front yard, and stopped cold. They both looked at 2 Linden Place, stunned.

  “Oh my god,” was all Courtney could whisper.

  Mark couldn’t even get that much out.

  Two Linden Place was gone. The two of them stood together, wide-eyed, looking at a vacant lot. There were no signs that a house hadever been there. Not a single piece of wood, brick, stone, or blade of grass existed in the space. The ground was nothing but dirt. Mark looked to the huge maple tree where years before Mr. Pendragon had hung a tire swing for the boys. The tree was there, but there was no swing. Even the branch that had been rope-scarred by years of swinging was clean. No marks. Nothing.

  Courtney broke first. “It’s the wrong address.”

  Mark said softly, “It’s not the wrong address.”

  Courtney wouldn’t accept it. She stormed onto the empty lot. “But I was here last night! There was a sidewalk to the house right here! And the front door was here! And Bobby and I were standing…” Her voice trailed off. She looked to Mark with dread. “Mark, what happened?”

  Now was as good a time as any. Even though he had no idea what had happened, seeing the empty lot confirmed his worst fears. Everything he had read on the pages from Bobby was true. He had more questions than he had answers, but he did have some answers, as strange as they were. He wanted to share them with Courtney. Knowing all this by himself was too tough. So he reached for his backpack and took out the yellow parchment papers.

  “I want you to read something,” he said. “It’s from Bobby.” He held out the pages to Courtney, who looked at them, then back to Mark. Reluctantly, she took the pages from him and sat down. Right there. Right in the middle of the empty lot at Two Linden Place, not far from the spot where she and Bobby shared their first kiss.

  She looked down at the pages and started to read.

  Journal #1 (continued)

  Denduron

  Ithought my life was over. All that was left was to wait for the pain. Would it come fast and hit me hard? Or would it start at my feet and gradually work its way up my legs, over my body, and zero in right on my head in a brilliant, searing flash of agony before everything went dark?

  I was voting for fast. But it didn’t come fast. In fact it didn’t come at all. There was no pain. I didn’t die. Instead I found myself falling through this snaking tunnel. It was like sailing down one of those water-park rides. But the water-park rides are actually more violent than this. Now that it’s over, I can look back on it and actually say it was kind of fun. But that’s now. At the time, I was freaking out.

  Once I realized I wasn’t being sucked into some giant garbage disposal, I opened my eyes and looked around. It felt like I was moving fast.

  Like I wrote before, the walls of the tunnel were craggy, like rocks. But they were translucent, too, as if they were crystal. The strange thing was, it wasn’t a bumpy ride. I was flying along, feet first like on a playground slide, but it felt like I was floating. I couldn’t feel the walls of the tunnel. There were many twists and turns, but I didn’t get slammed against the walls or anything, like you do when you hit the turns on a water slide. It felt like I was floating on a magic carpet that knew exactly where it was taking me.

  There were sounds, too. They were soft notes, like from a tuning fork. All different notes. Pretty notes. They were the same kind of notes I heard when the tunnel came to life, but much further apart. That’s one of the reasons I could tell I was going so fast, because I was sailing past the notes. The sound would come up fast from up ahead, and then flash past me and disappear behind. It was a strange sensation.

  I looked back the way I came and there was nothing but crystal tunnel for as far as I could see. I looked down between my feet and it was the same thing. Snaking tunnel. Infinity.

  After a while I got used to it, sort of. There was nothing I could do to stop anyway, so I figured why fight it? Now, here’s the freaky thing (as if everything up to this point wasn’t freaky enough). I could look out beyond the crystal walls to see that it was dark out there. I figured that made sense, I was underground, after all. But when I looked harder, it seemed as if the blackness was broken up by thousands and thousands of stars.

  I know, screwy, right? I had started in an underground subway and was going deeper underground from there, so how could I be looking at stars? But that’s what it looked like. Why should this make any more sense than anything else?

  I don’t know how long I was flying. Three minutes? Three months? My normal sense of relativity had long since gone bye-bye. I’d given myself over to the experience and wherever it took me, and for how long, it just didn’t matter.

  And then I heard something different. It wasn’t one of the soft notes that had been my guides on this bizarro journey. This sounded, well, solid. It sounded craggy. It sounded like I was coming to the end of the line. I looked down between my feet and saw it. The end. The twisting, bright tunnel ended in darkness, and I was headed for it, fast. All around me the walls of the tunnel started to change. They were transforming from the translucent crystal back to the slate gray craggy rocks that I had seen at their start near the subway.

  The panic returned. Was I about to hit the center of the Earth? Wasn’t there supposed to be a core of molten magma there? Was this magical flight just a prelude to a fiery death? Whatever was going to happen, it was going to happen now. So I did the one and only thing I could think of to prepare myself for the end. I closed my eyes.

  But the end wasn’t a fiery crash at all. I got the same tingling feeling that I had felt at the mouth of the tunnel. Then there was a shower of sound. All the sweet notes I had been hearing gathered together the way they did at the beginning of my journey. I felt as if a heavy weight were pressing against my chest. The next thing I knew, I was standing up. The musical notes faded away. I had been gently deposited somewhere by the magic carpet.

  It was strange having to support my own weight after having been weightless for the journey. I was like an astronaut returning from space who needed to get used to gravity again. I opened my eyes, looked back, and saw the tunnel. It looked exactly like the mouth I had entered back at the subway. It was gray and dark and stretched out to nowhere.

  I had arrived safely. But where was I? Another subway station? In China maybe? I turned around to know where the tunnel had deposited me and saw that I was at the entrance to some sort of cave. Now that I had my wits back, I realize
d that I was cold. The sharp sound I had heard during the last stretch of my journey was a howling wind. Wherever I was, I wasn’t underground anymore.

  I took a few shaky steps away from the mouth of the tunnel and entered the cave. As I walked into this larger space, I noticed that the cave was marked by the same star symbol that was on the door in the subway. It was carved into the rock at about eye level. Weird.

  I then saw light pouring in from an opening on the far side of the cavern. It was so bright that it made the rest of the cave seem pitch black. I was suddenly overcome by the feeling that I had been in the dark way too long. I wanted out, and that light showed me the way, so I stumbled along to reach it. When I got there, I knew that it was indeed the way out of the cave. The light also told me that it was daytime. How long had I been in that tunnel? All night? Or was it daytime in China? My eyes weren’t accustomed to the light, so I had to cover them and squint. I stepped outside and immediately realized it was even colder out here. All I had on was my Stony Brook warm-up top over a T-shirt, so the wind cut through me instantly. Man, it was freezing! I took a few steps and looked down to see-snow! The ground was covered with snow! That’s another reason it was so bright. The sun reflected off the snow and blinded me. I knew it wouldn’t take long for my eyes to adjust, so rather than duck back into the cave to get warm, I waited till I could see. I wanted to know where I was.

  After a few seconds, I gingerly took my hands away from my eyes. My pupils had finally contracted enough to let me see, and what was there waiting for me nearly knocked me off my feet.

  I was standing on top of a mountain! And this was no small ski mountain like we go to in Vermont. This was like Everest! Okay, maybe not that big, but I felt like I was on top of the world. Craggy snow fields stretched for as far as I could see. In the far distance, way down below, I could see that the snow gave way to a green, lush valley, but it was a long, steep trip between here and there.