Disney After Dark (17 page)

Charlene, Philby, and Willa, already in the water, swam to shore and clambered up onto the bank and quickly out of sight.

Finn realized the bird—the
witch
—had gone into the water but had never come out.

At that very moment, he felt something wrap around his ankle. Slimy and cold, it dragged him under.

A giant, black eel. It climbed up Finn’s body, wrapped around his middle, and squeezed. And squeezed. Finn tore at it with his hands, but it was like trying to grab a giant slithering bar of soap.

The more he fought against it, the more it squeezed. He felt the wind being choked out of him. He couldn’t breathe. He was losing consciousness.

Finn heard a loud whine, like an…engine. The eel’s grip slackened just enough to allow Finn to take a breath.

Above him, Finn saw Philby in one of the jungle boats. Philby held the boat’s outboard motor tilted just above the water, its spinning propeller aimed at the eel.

As the propeller was just about to cut the eel like a meat grinder, the beast released its hold of Finn and slithered back down under the dark water. Finn pulled himself from the water as Philby ran the boat up on shore.

“We gotta go, right now!” Philby shouted to the girls. “We’ve got to get back to the apartment and get out of here.”

“Maybeck—” Finn said.

“We can’t wait!” Philby shouted.

“That’s what I’ve been telling you!” Charlene said.

“I hate leaving him behind,” Willa said, worried.

“We all do,” Philby said. “But they know we’re here. We’ve got to leave.”

Finn hardly heard any of this. He was not thinking of the water, nor the crow, nor the eel. He was, instead, thinking only this one thing, over and over: She knew my name.
She knew my name.

21

A
manda stayed in the lead on her bike. Thankfuly, she hadn’t asked any questions, and he took this as a sign they were becoming really good friends. He told her only that he had to see Jelly and that she was welcome to come along if she wanted. They locked their bikes beneath a sign that read: CRAZY GLAZE.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” she said.

“Yeah,” was all Finn could think to say.

“You want me to keep her busy while you check around back. Is that about it?”

He nodded.

Amanda entered the store, glancing back at Finn with a worried expression.

Finn found two fire escapes out back, made of slatted iron, servicing several doors.

Finn heard Jelly’s distinctive voice through an open window. This was followed by Amanda asking after Terry.

“Terry’s not feeling well,” Jelly said.

“I brought him some homework,” Amanda said. It was a white lie, because in fact she and Finn went to a different school than Maybeck; but she needed a reason to see him.

“That’s sweet of you, girl. I’ll be sure to pass it along.”

Amanda said, “Is it the flu?”

“Not exactly the flu,” Jelly answered. “You want to leave him homework, that’d be fine. But right now, I’ve got a lot do.”

“Can I help you?” Amanda offered. “Can I fill in for Terry, if he’s not feeling well?”

“Well…Terry’s asleep upstairs. That would be very good of you, Amanda. Thank you for offering. I’m happy to pay you, though I can’t pay much.”

Finn climbed up the fire escape. The rail was hot to the touch. If caught, Finn wasn’t sure what excuse he’d use, but he’d think of something. At the first landing there was a normal-looking door.

Finn knocked gently. Nothing. Then he tried the doorknob; it turned, but he didn’t dare open it. That was just plain wrong, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Then the obvious hit him: that other landing below the adjacent windows. If he could make the jump…

Finn climbed over the rail of the landing, hung on, and jumped. His fingers hooked around the railing. He hung on for dear life, pulled himself over, and collapsed below the first window.

He got to his feet and peered in. He saw a television room with some very nice pottery scattered around. The next window, considerably smaller, was covered on the inside by a thick curtain—a bathroom, perhaps.

Finn moved to the third window and peered inside.

Maybeck.

He was asleep in bed—
with the shade up and the lights on
, Finn noted—rolled over, with his back to Finn. He had on the same shirt he’d been wearing the night before. Next to the bed, on a side table, Finn noticed a thermometer bulb-down in a glass of water, a face cloth folded into a strip three inches wide, and a copy of the Bible.

Finn knocked gently on the glass. Maybeck didn’t stir. Finn tried again, a little louder.

Maybeck didn’t budge. If Finn knocked any harder, he thought he’d break the glass. Instead, he tested the window. It opened a crack. Again, he faced going inside uninvited. Again, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

But he did slide the window up and stick his head through.

“Maybeck!” he whispered harshly. “Maybeck, wake up!

“Finn!” It was Amanda’s voice, behind and below him. Finn bumped his head on the window frame as he turned to look for her.

“Jelly’s coming up there!” Amanda warned frantically. “She
heard
you!”

Finn ducked out the bedroom window. He could hear Jelly coming up the stairs. The footsteps were close now. Finn slid Maybeck’s window shut, ducked, and hurried to the railing. He climbed over, paused, and jumped.

For a fraction of a second, it seemed that he’d misjudged the distance, that he would fall, crashing in a pile of broken bones right in front of Amanda. But he made it. He climbed over the railing and hurried down to ground level.

“Finn? Finn Whitman?” Jelly hollered from the upstairs balcony. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Jelly!” Finn called back.

“You sneaking around back here?”

“No, ma’am.”

“’Cause that’s what it looks like.”

“I need to talk to Terry,” Finn confessed. “It’s important.”

“You can’t. Terry’s sick. Not well.”

“Sick, or asleep? He won’t wake up, will he?”

Amanda snapped her head in Finn’s direction.

Jelly said, “You stay right where you are, young man.”

Jelly took her time. “Listen,” she said, emerging through the back door. “This is not something I want going around school. You understand?” She met eyes with them both. “Terry’s got some kind of sleeping sickness.”

Finn gasped.

“We can’t wake him up. He’s not got a fever. Not been bitten by anything. No sweats or shakes.” She took a long look up at Maybeck’s bedroom window. “Doctor says to let him be one more night. Tomorrow, he goes to the hospital and they start doing tests. But I’m saying my prayers. Nothing seems wrong with him. Doctor says he’s fine in all the important ways.”

“He’s stuck asleep?” Amanda said.

“That’s a funny way to put it,” Jelly said, “but yes.”

Finn wanted to kick Amanda, but she didn’t know what she’d said. He had told her nothing about the night before.

Maybeck was still crossed over. Finn struggled to figure out what that meant.

“Can’t wake him up?” Finn blurted out.

“That’s right,” Jelly said.

Finn considered carefully before he spoke. “Listen…I don’t expect you to believe me or anything, but Terry’s condition—it has to do with his being a DHI, a Disney Host, like I am.” She studied him thoughtfully but did not interrupt. “I think I can help him. Maybe. Help him wake up.”

“Is this some kind of joke? Because it’s in poor taste, young man. Terry’s extremely ill.”

“Finn?” Amanda said. “What’s going on?”

“Before he went to bed last night—maybe even yesterday afternoon—did Maybeck…did Terry…get a phone call ?”

Jelly took another step away from him. “What’s with you, boy?” She was not pleased. She looked on the verge of tears.

“He did, didn’t he? And I’ll bet he came away from that call excited, didn’t he? Because it was from a girl, wasn’t it?”

“Her?” Jelly said, pointing at Amanda, not realizing she’d just confirmed that Finn was right.

“No,” Finn said softly, “not her.” Thoughts crowded his head. “Please don’t take him to the hospital until you hear from me tomorrow.”

“I’m supposed to trust my Terry to a thirteen-year-old boy?” Jelly said, incredulous.

“Fourteen,” Finn said. “I’m fourteen next month.”

22

B
ack riding their bikes, Finn and Amanda pedaled side by side on the sidewalk, slipping into single file whenever they passed a pedestrian. The afternoon slid toward evening, the sun dragging lower in the sky, the first haze of twilight upon them. Finn felt his whole world dimming.

“He’s not asleep, is he, Finn?” she asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Then what?”

“Trapped over there,” Finn said.

“What’s that mean?”

“It means we left him, and we shouldn’t have, and now he’s stuck back there. On this side, he’s asleep. Over there, he’s still a DHI. Who knows what’s happened to him.”

“You think he’s been caught or something?”

“I hope not,” Finn answered. “But this is nothing but bad. Real bad.” Finn felt a cool wind on his back. He craned over his shoulder to look.

Though Finn said nothing, Amanda, riding alongside him said, “I feel it, too. Check out your handlebars.”

Finn touched his handlebars:
ice cold.
His fingers left small patches of vapor behind as he removed them.

“Just like the car wash,” she said.

Finn didn’t need to be told what that sudden chill meant.

He scoured the immediate area for any sign of Maleficent.

He saw only cars, storefronts, and power lines.

Black cars, red cars, blue cars, and white.

Small cars, big cars, dull cars, and bright.

Where did they come from? Where were they going?

Some cars were driving; some cars were towing.

“Do you ever think in rhymes?” he asked her, wondering where that had come from.

She glanced over at him, gravely concerned.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re thinking in rhymes?”

“So what?”

She answered, “It’s one of the signs—it’s something….” She caught herself. Her voice trailed off.

“What signs?”

She allowed her bike to fall behind him so far that he couldn’t see her. So Finn slowed as well, and they dueled this way: Amanda slowing, then Finn slowing to join her, until they had come to a stop.

“What do you know about this?” he asked, feeling agitated and impatient. “It’s a sign of what?”

To their right was a community center and adjoining it an enormous skateboard park with a half pipe, a full pipe, jumps, and four tubs—a landscape of smooth concrete basins, like empty swimming pools, interconnected by ramps and tunnels, where a dozen kids were practicing stunts.

Amanda said meekly, “Rhyming is…it’s one of the signs of—witches.” With that, she rose up onto her pedals and zoomed off, turning in to the skateboard park.

The park was full of skaters,

Full of concrete alligators,

Kids in hoards, riding boards.

Sun was sinking, growing later.

Finn shook his head violently, side to side, trying to clear his thought and push away the rhymes. What had she just said? He couldn’t remember. All he could hear were rhymes. One thought found its way through: Amanda knows something she isn’t telling me. Finn raced to catch her.

This is weird,

Like a man with a beard.

Green skin and pigs’ eyes,

Frog legs and fireflies,

A dark cave with loud cries.

A girl with tears in her eyes.

Finn caught up to her. Amanda’s eyes were red. She’d either been crying or affected by the speed of her riding.

“Amanda…”

“I can’t tell you,” she said.

A motorized minibike zoomed noisily around the corner and dropped into the skate park. The rider was thin and wore a black leather top and pants and a black helmet with a silver-mirrored visor that hid his face.

The minibike came straight at them, showing no signs of slowing. On the contrary, it was on a collision course.

Amanda rose up onto her pedals and dropped her bike into the first big concrete bathtub.