Jack James and the Tribe of the Teddy Bear (17 page)

BOOK: Jack James and the Tribe of the Teddy Bear
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TWENTY-TWO

 

 

AMELIA HID inside a circular rack crammed with designer jeans and waited while the last few customers filed out of Winmart. She knew she hadn’t much time before the emergency crews came in to inspect the building for structural defects. After a few minutes, she made a run for the toy department. While in front of Electronics, a burly voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Hey, kid! Whatcha doin’? Don’tcha know this place might be unsafe? You need to get outta here!”

She found herself face to ribcage with a tall, brick of a man, a firefighter in full gear including a mask and respirator. He scared her, until she saw the name,
Deano
, written in magic marker on some duct tape stuck to the helmet. Then she noticed his pastel spirit clothes and giggled. That meant he was one of the gentlest souls ever created.

“Okay, okay,” Deano motioned with his gloved thumb toward the doors. “Move it.”

“But,” she struggled for an alibi. “I’m looking for my mommy.”

“Your mommy’s outside. Let’s go.”

He took her hand and led her to a line of people, the last few to filter out. She knew if something wasn’t done right then, she’d miss her opportunity.

“There’s my mommy!” she tore from the firefighter’s grasp and sprinted to an unsuspecting woman carrying a toddler on her hip. Though there were no outward signs yet, she knew the woman was pregnant by the warm glow of her kaleidoscope spirit clothes.

“Mommy!” she bear-hugged the woman, who, along with the child, was stunned into speechlessness. “I found you!”

Still embracing her make-believe mother, Amelia snuck a peek to make sure the firefighter had been fooled. It worked! He’d turned his attention to a crack in the floor.

“Thanks,” she kissed the woman’s hand, startling her even more. “And congratulations on the pregnancy. The baby’s really healthy.”

“How did you..?” the woman’s jaw dropped. Then Amelia patted the kid’s hair and slipped behind a display of rotisserie chickens. Hunching out of sight, she hurried along a row of newspapers and magazines past the distracted man.

“Who was that, Mommy?” she heard the little girl ask.

“I-I have no idea.”

She reached the section of the store dedicated to toys, games, puzzles, bikes and, of course, stuffed animals, yet had no clue what to do. Somewhere hidden in Winmart’s vast collection of fake elephants, giraffes, bunnies and gorillas was something else, something living and breathing, and observing her every move.

Then she remembered the feather on her beaded necklace. It was a special feather, one given to her by a Bald Eagle directly. Somehow she felt it contained a distinctive power, though she still didn’t understand what it meant fully.

She found where she figured the creatures were hiding, a giant bin stacked almost to the ceiling with plush animals. She knew they were there somewhere, camouflaged inside the pile, and she hoped they were watching her place the feather on the floor. Then she uttered something she’d once learned from an elderly Lakota Sioux healer.

“Mitakuye Oyasin,” she said, and again in English, “We are all related.”

She decided to walk away and made it a few steps when Deano blocked her path.

“What’re you doing here, little girl? Are you shoplifting?” he marched her forward. “Come on. You’re in trouble.”

He escorted her to the end of the aisle and started in the direction of the front office when a white projectile whizzed from above, slamming him in the side of his helmet.

“What was that!”

Amelia examined the stitched object coming to rest on the floor. “It’s a baseball.”

“Where did it come from? Did you throw it?”

“No,” she raised her shoulders. “How could I?”

“I don’t know, maybe—
AHHH!

Another ball flew from nowhere, a strike down the middle of the firefighter’s gut. He doubled over in agony. Then a black and silvery blur whisked from behind, stopping within inches of the man’s nose. It was a Tanakee, the one Amelia had felt the connection with, standing solidly on two feet and exposing her fangs. Her spirit clothes burned bright as blood. Amelia knew the creature meant business.

Mouth gaping, Deano didn’t move a muscle. The two remained locked in a stare.

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, buddy?” growled the Tanakee with the serious glare of a predator about to strike.

“Uh…uh,” Deano took a step backward. Then another. He glanced at Amelia, then at the creature, then again at her while edging away, babbling.

Two more creatures appeared, climbing out of the heap of stuffed animals.

“Ayita, what are you thinking?” admonished one of them, a stunning specimen with the same black and silver banding as Ayita, only he had more masculine features, and the emerald skin spots below his eyes were more defined. His aura pulsed with a ruddy hue as well. “This’ll bring nothing but trouble.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that guy,” Ayita wiped her hands. “He won’t say a word. Not if he wants to keep his job.”

“What about this one?” the angry Tanakee pointed at Amelia. “What are we supposed to do about her?”

“Her?” answered Ayita. “You don’t need to worry about her, either. Somehow I get the feeling that’s my job.”

Amelia was speechless, not so much from shock or nerves. Her silence was on purpose, a deliberate act of respect to these sacred beings. Admittedly, she did feel a good amount of awe. Not only did this incredible new species have extraordinary physical and even magical assets, they had one ability she found difficult to get used to—they could talk.

Ayita took care with the eagle feather, picking it up off the floor.

“This was given to you,” she returned it to Amelia. “It’s very unique, you should keep it.”

“Ayita, come on. Let’s go, now.”

“Cheyton, don’t,” spoke the third Tanakee, fluffy and powder white, her mint green spirit clothes sparkled brighter than any of them.

“We’re getting too sloppy, Enola,” argued Cheyton. “Takota started it with that boy, and now this. We’re becoming too exposed.”

“What does it matter?” asked Enola. “We’ve decided to leave this place, haven’t we? Besides, it never hurts to make friends.”

Cheyton bristled. “Friends? How can we be friends with a human? They can’t be trusted.”

“You can trust me,” Amelia said. “You can trust Jack, too. We just want to help.”

“You want to help us?” Cheyton inched Ayita aside. He pointed his fuzzy finger at Amelia. “Then you take your friend Jack and leave us alone!”

“Cheyton!” Enola shouted. “You don’t mean that!”

“I just, I,” Cheyton fumbled. “I wish this never happened. I wish we could just go back to the way it was, that’s all.”

Enola took Cheyton’s hand.

“I know. None of us want to leave. But be honest. Did you think we’d be able to stay here forever? Change is natural, it’s a part of life, and it doesn’t necessarily have to be a bad thing.”

When Enola finished speaking, Amelia noticed another voice, a mumbling monotone coming from deep within the stack of toy wildlife.

“Potato chips,” it droned. “Glazed doughnuts, pizza, bike races, movies, ice cream, chocolate chips, chocolate chip cookies, pizza…”

“Who is that?” Amelia asked. “And what’s he doing?”

“That,” Ayita rolled her eyes. “Is Pud. He’s listing off all the things he’s gonna miss after we leave. He’s been at it all morning and I WISH HE’D STOP!”

Ayita’s outburst caused Pud to recite even louder.

“Mayonnaise! Dill pickles! Sweet pickles! Pickled anything!”

“All right, guys,” Enola said. “We all know this isn’t going to be pleasant. We’ve had it pretty good in this supermarket. Venturing into the unknown is scary. It’s dangerous out there, we know. But we also know it’s getting way too dangerous in here. It’s just a matter of time before one or all of us are caught. That’s why we decided to leave tonight, right?”

She waited. Her friends stood in calm silence. Even Pud went quiet.

“Right?”

“I’m not leaving without Takota,” Ayita announced, then she gave Amelia a pitiful expression. “Do you think you can help us find him, Amelia?”

It came as a total surprise that Ayita knew her name, though for some reason, Amelia felt it shouldn’t have been. They were intelligent creatures. No telling how long they’d been watching, and what they’d heard.

“You know,” she answered. “I might have a good idea where he is.”

Her phone rang inside her coat. She fumbled to get it out of her pocket, desperate to stop the ringtone before someone heard. It was her mother. She’d gotten news of the trouble with Ben James and insisted on picking Amelia up at school immediately. After some resistance, Amelia relented, agreeing to meet her.

“I gotta go,” she told the Tanakee, putting her phone away. “But I’ll be back soon. We’ll find Takota, don’t worry.”

“Hold on, would you dear?” requested Enola. “Pud, I believe you have something that might belong to Amelia, or at least to someone she knows.”

Silence. Amelia studied the three creatures quizzically.

“Pu-uuud?” Enola sang.

“No!” Pud snarled.

“Pud!” barked Cheyton. “Get out here now and give it back. It doesn’t belong to you.”

“But,” Pud poked from behind a giant, purple dinosaur. “I can fix it better, really I can!”

“Pud!” the other Tanakee shouted in unison, shaming him into giving up the fight. Murmuring, he descended to the floor.

Amelia giggled when she got a good look at him. The wild, unkempt hair on his head didn’t get any tamer anywhere else on his little body, its unruliness matched solely by its striking orangish hue. It was an arresting contrast to his remarkably blue spirit clothes. His ears were a little floppy and his eyes exotic and mismatched, one deep, dark brown, the other pale aquamarine. Beside the grooved spots of bare, vivid green skin on the tips of his cheeks, a trait of all the Tanakee, Pud’s most memorable feature had to be his perpetual smile, which persisted even though he was so obviously upset.

“Here,” he held out his hand, presenting her with the O/A.

“Hey!” Amelia exclaimed. “That’s Ben’s invention! I thought the police had it. Where’d you find it?”

“I grabbed it while nobody was watching,” he said. “Look, it’s hurt.”

Instantly Amelia became dazzled by the machine’s elegance, its sleekness, and how it seemed filled with spectacular jewels, sparkling and spinning in intricate patterns. Despite the instrument’s splendor, she sensed it was damaged seriously. When she’d first seen it in Ben’s hands, she was shocked to discover it had spirit clothes. Not just that, its aura’s intensity had equaled Jack’s—an intriguing thing, certainly. Now, though, the machine’s ethereal glow seemed vastly diminished, and she sensed its pain.

She gasped. “Do you really believe you can help it, Pud?”

He looked at his friends, then again at Amelia, nodding.

“Yes.”

“Then you take it for now. Do everything you can for it, okay? And remember, it’s not a toy.”

“Yessir!” Pud saluted. “Uh, ma’am.”

“It’s Amelia,” she gave him a quick laugh. “Just Amelia.”

“Okay, Just Amelia,” he chuckled.

She said goodbye to all of them and began to sneak out of the store. She could tell the firefighter didn’t want anything to do with her. He spotted her and eyed her from a safe distance as she slipped through the exit.

When she arrived at school, her mom sat in the attendance office waiting for her. Although she asked Amelia all kinds of questions, she never once said anything about what had actually happened at Winmart. After a while, her mom stopped asking altogether, choosing instead to talk about what clothes she wanted, and if she felt like going to a salon or a movie. Amelia got the feeling the subject was being officially swept under the rug, the standard practice around the Klein household for such matters.

Soon, it became clear the whole day was intended to whitewash her brain, and make her forget about furry little creatures and a boy whose dad was a wacky inventor with an interdimensional machine. Amelia went along, for a while. After spending the bulk of the morning at her mother’s home away from home, Willow Factory Outlet Center, she demanded to finish the day at school.

When she returned to Willow Elementary, the first thing, the only thing on her mind was to find Jack.

 

 

TWENTY-THREE

 

 

YOU’RE LATE, JAMES!” Mr. Jarvis puffed up his barrel chest while sucking in his flabby belly. He whipped a whistle into his mouth and tweeted so loud it rang in Jack’s ears. “That’s ten pushups, now DROP!”

“I, uh, have an excuse,” Jack handed over the note. The PE teacher snatched the paper, read in a huff, then crumpled it.

“School psychologist, huh?” he grumbled. “I always say nothing straightens a kid up better than good, old fashioned exercise, and lots of it. So let’s go, James. It’s field hockey day. Hurry up and dress down—you’d better be out there in five minutes.”

He trotted through a set of doors propped open by a plastic garbage can. The spring sun had decided to make a rare Oregon Coast appearance, bathing the chubby man in gold as he departed to the playing field, leaving Jack alone in the ancient locker room.

He took off his backpack, placed it on the bench, and opened his locker. A foul stench overwhelmed him. He held his breath, yet still it gagged his throat and stung his nasal passages. He backed away, coughing and spitting, dumbfounded by the offensive odor. What the heck? It didn’t take much investigation to solve the puzzle. Piled on the floor of his locker were a dozen or so dirty, sweaty, mildewy PE towels.

“Yuck!” he knew it was a prank. A Mike and Dillon specialty. He could always count on them.

He tried to kick the towels away without success. Finally, with one hand over his nose, he decided on a quick fingertip extraction. A messy operation, though it had to be done. He flicked them aside, not caring where they landed.

With that done, he started to change into his gym clothes, yet the unmistakable sound of coughing made him stop in place. He looked left, then right, then twisted until he was backward. Nothing. The coughing became hacking and sputtering. At last, he recognized where the noise was coming from—his backpack.

He shook his pack free from the pile of dirty towels, not aware he’d buried it under them. From the outside, he saw signs of struggle. Shaking and poking. The bag was alive.

Cough! Cough!

“Fresh air!”

Cough! Cough!

“I need fresh air!”

He unbuckled the straps, allowing Takota to climb to freedom.

“Whoa! What was that stuff, skunk dung?”

“Takota! Is it really you?”

The little fellow grinned. “Hi, Jack.”

Jack melted. “I can’t believe it. You
are
real. And you really
can
talk. I knew it wasn’t my imagination when you spoke to me before. But why’d you wait so long to do it again?”

“I had to be sure it was safe,” Takota said. “I have to be careful who I reveal myself to.”

Jack nodded. “I get it. But how’d you get in my backpack?”

“I crawled in at the store when nobody was looking. Wasn’t too difficult with all the commotion.”

“Yeah. My dad’s machine can be pretty dramatic. He was just trying to help. We all were, even your friends. They helped, too.”

“I know,” Takota crossed his arms. “That was a bad move. You shouldn’t have done that. You’ve got to promise me something right now, Jack. You’ve got to swear if you ever think I’ve been captured, you won’t try to save me again.”

“But I can’t.”

“Jack, it’s too dangerous. You can never risk yourself, you understand that?”

“I-I guess.”

“Then promise.”

“Okay, okay. I promise. But what about the others, your friends? We can’t just leave them in Winmart. Sooner or later those same people will find them, don’t you think?”

“Not after I go away,” Takota faced the other direction.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I’m getting out of here. You all were fine before I came around. Then I showed up and spoiled everything. I’m gonna make it right. I’m going away. Far away.”

“But you can’t leave. Not now,” Jack cried.

“You talking to yourself again, Jackie-boy?” Mike taunted from across the locker room. Takota froze, once again donning the perfect camouflage of a cuddly stuffed toy.

“Of course he’s talking to himself,” Dillon darted from behind a row of lockers, chomping on a wad of gum. “Who else would want to talk to him after this morning?”

“I don’t know,” Mike used a menacing tone. “Seems to me he has himself a girlfriend now.”

“Naw, she just talks to him ‘cause she feels sorry for him,” Dillon laughed. “That’s what Wendy tells me, anyway.”

Fresh from the athletic field, the two boys were adorned in official field hockey regalia, complete with helmets, shin and elbow protectors and, of course, long, imposing sticks with hooks on the ends resembling giant, upside-down candy canes.

“So what?” Mike strode to Jack. “Who cares about some stupid girl, anyway? You wanna know what I do care about? I care about my dog. What’d you do to my dog, Jack?”

“What’re you talking about?” he stepped in front of Takota. “I didn’t do a thing to your dog.”

“Yes you did,” Mike brandished his hockey stick. “You scared the pee out of him, literally. He made a mess inside my brother’s car and my brother went off on me. Now you’re gonna pay.”

“But I didn’t scare your dog. I wasn’t anywhere near it. I was with you guys. How can you say I did anything to Harley?”

“You did something to that teddy bear, didn’t you? Maybe a shock collar. Is that what you did? You booby trapped a teddy bear and gave it to my dog?”

“No!” Jack moved back, trying his best to block Takota from view.

“He planted some cockamamie gadget inside, you can bet on it,” Dillon’s disdain was clear. “His criminal dad was probably involved, too.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Jack laughed.

“You better notta put one of your weirdo dad’s machines in my dog’s mouth!”
Clang!
Mike dented an innocent locker with his stick. “I’ll take that teddy bear and shove it up your nose!”

“Can’t,” Dillon sounded proud. “It’s gone. The little boy who lost it was so heartbroken his parents combed the town until they saw my Lost and Found poster, and the rest is history. Jack doesn’t have the teddy bear any more, do you, Ja…”

Dillon stopped. He choked when he spotted Takota, his chewing gum lodging in his throat. He gagged again then coughed it onto the floor.

“What the..?” he stepped away. “Jack, you’re in trouble, big time! That thing belongs to someone else and you know it! Your dad just got thrown in jail. You wanna get your mom fired, too?”

“You mean you’ve got it with you?” Mike tried to push Jack aside. “Is that what you’re hiding? Let me see it?”

“No! You…can’t…have…it,” Jack struggled with the bigger kid.

“Get it!” Mike ordered.

“You crazy?” Dillon retreated even further. “I’m not touchin’ that stupid thing.”

“All right,” Mike placed his foot behind Jack’s leg and gave him a shove, putting him flat on his rear. “I’ll get it.”

He yanked Takota off the bench by one arm and held him up, a hunter with his trophy.

“Leave him alone!” Jack sprang to his feet. He lunged at Mike but was held off by the slighter Dillon.

Mike teased, “What the heck do you mean, ‘him’? This isn’t real, you freak! It’s a stuffed animal, right Dillon?”

He waved Takota toward his buddy, who didn’t act appreciative of the gesture.

“Hey! Get that thing away from me!”

“What’s up with you, anyway?” Mike chortled. “This thing’s not alive. It’s just a toy. An ugly toy, too. I can’t imagine someone thinking it’s cute.”

“Don’t you hurt him, Mike!”

“Or what, Jack? Whatcha gonna do? You gonna beat me up? Naw, you’re too much of a brainiac for that. Instead of being brave and standing up for yourself, you’d rather invent some sort of ingenious revenge by planting an electronic device in a teddy bear and then giving it to a dog!”

“But I never…”

“Shut up! I know you’ve got one of your dad’s inventions inside this thing, don’t you? Well you know what I’m gonna do?”

With one hand, he dangled Takota high. With the other, he pulled the hockey stick behind his head, readying for a swing.

“Smash it!” urged Dillon.

“I’m gonna whack the stuffing out of this thing!”

“Like a piñata!”

“Wait!” Jack pushed Dillon against the lockers. Too late. Mike had already tossed Takota into the air and swept at him hard.

“Kiss this sucker goodbye!”

Jack covered his eyes, expecting to hear a loud, sickening
Thump!
When that didn’t happen, he peeked through his fingers to find Mike searching wildly.

“What? Where’d it go?” Dillon asked.

“I, uh,” Mike searched up, down, under the benches, in the lockers. “I don’t know.”

At the same moment, all three boys noticed a small, grayish-brown lump adhered to the end of Mike’s hockey stick.

“What the?” Mike widened his glare. “How’d that get there?”

He whipped the stick with a force that would have split it in two had he made contact with something solid. Takota didn’t budge, though. Not a millimeter.

“Hit it on the floor!” urged Dillon.

“No!” Jack screamed.

Mike gripped with both hands, lifted the staff, then swung with the power of a sledge hammer. The hook on the end splintered against the concrete floor, leaving small shards of fiberglass, but no Takota.

“Help! Help!”

It had happened so fast, no one noticed. While in mid-swing, Takota had climbed up Mike’s arms and took residence on top of his helmet.

“Why’d you wanna go and do that?” Takota grinned.

“Ahhh! Get it off! Get it off!”

“Okay, okay!” Dillon moved in. “Hold still!”

He clubbed downward with his hockey stick. Takota switched positions, moving with blinding swiftness and avoiding the danger.

Smack!

Mike took the full force.

“Quit it!” he cracked Dillon across the chest. “How’s it feel, huh?”

“Hey! Don’t!” Dillon retaliated with a blow to his plastic body armor.

Though Jack knew it would attract unwanted attention, he couldn’t stop giggling. He knew his instincts were correct when Mike focused on him.

“You think it’s funny?” he raised his makeshift weapon. Jack searched. Takota was gone.

“FREEZE!” Mr. Jarvis stood in the doorway ringed by a halo of sunlight.

“Miller! Shane! I don’t know what you girls are thinking, but you just bought yourselves a couple one way tickets to see the principal!”

“But, Mr. Jarvis,” Dillon whined.

“I don’t wanna hear it, Shane! Move it, now!”

“Mr. Jarvis, you gotta listen,” Mike pleaded. “It’s Jack’s teddy bear. Something really spooky’s goin’ on with it.”

“It’s possessed or something,” added Dillon.

“Yeah, possessed. It’s haunted by an evil spirit, dude!”

Jarvis put his hands on his hips. “Haunted, huh? The only thing that’s gonna be haunted is the principal’s office. By YOU TWO! Now, you’ve got exactly three seconds to move out, or you’re gonna owe me pushups until you graduate high school—GO!”

“Okay, okay,” the crestfallen troublemakers succumbed. They collided while trying to fit through the doorway at the same time, their plastic body armor clanking together.

Mr. Jarvis recast his ire on Jack.

“I don’t know what you’re up to, James,” he squinted. “But when I find out, mark my words I’m gonna…”

The sound of wheezing made him hesitate. Without moving, he allowed his gaze to drift one way, then the next, then again at Jack. When the noise changed to a low snarl, he started to sweat. Every shred of ill-humor evaporated into childlike terror as the man took a step backward, chewing his fingernails.

“Wha…what is that?” he asked Jack the way a three year old would question his daddy why the sky was blue.

It became apparent the sound came from inside a laundry basket. Jack played dumb, hoping his teacher might take the bait.

“I don’t know. Why don’t you look?”

“Well, I, uh,” Mr. Jarvis fidgeted with the keys hooked perpetually to a belt loop on his coach’s shorts. The noise died down. When he got close and reached in the basket, his wide eyes probed the shadowy interior.

Then a menacing growl from the dirty laundry forced Jack to take cover behind his locker door before realizing it was Takota. The teacher, though, didn’t share the same confidence.

“It
is
haunted!” as he scurried to the exit, he gave Jack one last order. “Whatever kind of abomination you brought into my locker room, you’d better get it outta here!”

Jack hurried to the basket.

“What’re you doing in there?” he pulled his little friend from the sweat-stained mess. “It’s disgusting!”

“It was the only place I could find,” Takota waved his hand in front of his nose. “I was in a hurry.”

“Yeah, those guys are all over me lately.”

“They wouldn’t be if I wasn’t around,” asserted Takota. “Everywhere I go I bring nothing but problems. First I almost get the others captured, then I get you in trouble with your friends. And your dad. That’s my fault, too. He’s in jail because of me.”

BOOK: Jack James and the Tribe of the Teddy Bear
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