The Conch Shell of Doom (5 page)

Bailey gawked at Alexis.
Did she really say that?

“Success!” Chuck pumped his fist in the air. He disappeared from Bailey’s view halfway up the stairs.

Alexis closed the bedroom door behind them. The movie was paused on her TV, Harry Potter’s face frozen in a strained, funny spot.
 

Bailey pointed at the illustrated poster of Legolas on the wall. “When did this happen?”

“Legolas has never looked hotter.” She sat cross-legged on her bed. “I swear he could double as cupid.”

Bailey wanted to gag. “So, the whole pointy ears thing does it for you?”

Alexis
ummed
. “Among other things.”

“Lovely.” Bailey felt uncomfortable hearing girls talk about how they thought some unattainable guy was
sooooo
sexy. It was weird.

“You asked.”

“I know.” Bailey wanted to change the subject before Alexis said something even more graphic about her book crush. He plopped down on a blue bean bag chair. His body sank into it, the beans conforming around him. It felt fantastic. He picked up a plastic
Harry Potter
wand that lay on the desk next to him, twirling it in his hands, before pointing it at Alexis. “
Accio belief
.”

She squinted at him. “I don’t get it. You need belief?”

Here goes nothing.
“I need you to believe me. Something scary is going on with my parents. Marshall’s too.”

Alexis leaned forward, enthralled. “Sounds exciting. Wait. It’s not, you know, like a…”

It took Bailey a second to figure out what she meant. “Oh! No! God no.”

“Okay, good.”

“How could you even say that?” Bailey winced at the thought. “You’re going to make me sick, talking like that.”
 

“I’m sorry.” Alexis laughed. “Think about something else, like what’s the big emergency?”

Bailey shook his hands, preparing himself for the story. He dove in, getting her up to speed, making sure to go into great detail about the monster, his parents, everything. She took in his story without a word, occasionally nodding to let him know she was paying attention.

“So, I guess the million dollar question is… do you believe me?” If the answer was no, Bailey knew he’d be forced to move to South Dakota and live out his days as a fry cook in some fast food restaurant.

“Of course I believe you.” Alexis picked at a fingernail. “And even if you’re wrong, what else am I going to do? This is the most exciting thing I’ve heard since they said I was in full remission.”

Bailey lowered his head and let out a deep breath. What a relief. The tension in his shoulders lessened, knowing Alexis didn’t think he’d signed up for a one-way ticket to the loony bin. Coming here was definitely the right decision. “I can’t tell you how much that means to me.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, but what kind of friend would I be if I told the one person who believed my story about the lady and the starfish stuck to her butt that they were full of it?”

He smiled. “I love that story.”

“Now, we just have to find out who these people are.” Alexis struggled to keep a short strand of hair behind her ear. “The easiest way is to ask your parents.”

“Pass.” Bailey wanted to find out, but curiosity killed the cat.

Alexis hopped off the bed. With only socks on, her feet landed on the floor with a soft
thump
. She sat at her desk and opened her laptop to do a Google search on Mr. Lovell and Trenton Maroney. Some weird dating videos came up for Mr. Lovell and spam sites for Maroney. Wikipedia also came up a zero.

Alexis glanced at Bailey. “Bing?”

“Worth a shot. You can find all kinds of weird stuff there.” Like porn. Lots of it. But Bailey kept that to himself.
 

Ironically, the Bing search only netted a few porn sites.

“I should’ve known,” Alexis said. “Everybody knows Bing’s only good for porn.”

Bailey did his best to act calm.
She knew about the porn paradise there? Amazing.
His phone rang. The thoughts about Alexis made him clumsy as he fumbled for the cell. It was his mom. A chill ran through his body. He silenced the phone and put it back in his pocket. Bailey hated that his parents could get in touch with him, despite being on the run.
 

“One guess who what was.”

“Sorry.” Bailey loved how genuine Alexis could be, even with something as customary as a hollow apology. “You’re going to have to talk to them at some point.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t have to be right now.”

The door flew open. Chuck, chest puffed out, pointed at Bailey. “Ah ha!!”

Alexis squealed. Bailey threw the plastic wand at Chuck as he fell out of the bean bag chair. The wand bounced off the wall and landed on the floor. Bailey’s heart felt like it exploded in his body.

Chuck beamed with pride. He crossed his arms in a display of superiority. “I knew you two were behaving yourselves. Happy to see my suspicion confirmed.”

“Dad! Get out!” Alexis threw a pillow at him.

Chuck laughed. “Okay, okay. But turn the TV off if you’re not going to watch it. You may want that Potter boy’s image burned on the screen, but I don’t.”

Alexis took the remote and turned the TV off. “Happy?”

“Extremely. Bailey, you didn’t wet your pants, did you?”
 

Bailey checked his pants. “No sir.”

“Good man. Make sure it stays dry down there.”
 

Chuck left, closing the door behind him before Alexis could respond. She dove onto the bed, grabbed a pillow, and
ughed
. Bailey climbed back into the bean bag chair. Why was Alexis so embarrassed of her father? Sure, Chuck scared them, but for the most part, he ruled. Of all the dads Bailey knew, Mr. Carrington was by far the most fun. Except when he was scaring Bailey.
 

Alexis rolled over on her back. “He is
such
a geek.”

“At least he isn’t in cahoots with some scary monster guy?” Bailey knew it wasn’t the most uplifting thing to say, but that didn’t make it any less true.

“You should see what he does to my boyfriends.”

“What’s that? Use enhanced interrogation to find out their real intentions?”

Alexis’s face went wide. “How did you know? But no, remember when I dated Kyle?”
 

Unfortunately
. “Sort of.”

“One time he came over, and Dad answered the door covered in fake blood, carrying an axe and only wearing his tightie-whities. Then, he asked Kyle if his Prius could fit a dead body in the back.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah, Kyle broke up with me a few days later. He says
it wasn’t because of Dad, but between you and me, it was.”

Bailey felt jealous at the mention of boyfriends. He knew Alexis dated her fair share of guys before she
really
got sick, but lately most of the boys kept their distance. It would’ve been nice for Bailey to be the exception and tell Alexis, but anxiety, nerves, and fear—of the merciless taunting he’d get from Tim and Marshall if they ever found out—kept him from speaking up.

Alexis sat at the end of the bed, her foot grazing Bailey’s knee. “So? How do we find out about these suspicious characters of yours?”
 

Bailey knew the answer. The look he shared with Alexis made it clear she did too. They moaned in disgust at the same time.

“I hate having to physically look up things,” Bailey moaned.

Alexis fell back on her bed. “The library is so much work. That’s why they made the Internet, so we wouldn’t have to keep being tortured by the Dewey Decimal System.”
 

“There’s so many stairs,” Bailey said. “And they don’t even have a copy of
The Stand
.”

“UNC-Wilmington’s does, along with about a million other books.”

Bailey’s phone rang again.
 

Alexis nudged Bailey with her foot. “Hey. I believe in you. Talk to them. I doubt they’ve got some nefarious plan in store for you. They did birth you, after all.”

“You’re right. Mom was only in labor for fifteen hours with me. Said it was the most painful experience of her life. She wouldn’t want any sort of payback for that. Now, if it’d been
sixteen
hours…” Bailey closed his eyes, trying to get his temper under control. The rant fired him up, and he needed to cool down before answering the phone. He took one last deep breath and then pressed the green button to take the call.

“Bailey?” his mom asked. “Thank God. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”
 

She sounded panicked, but Bailey didn’t buy that for a second. His mom sounded forced and hollow, like she was reading aloud from a script.

“Where are you?”

Bailey almost laughed. Like hell he’d answer that question. “Just out. I needed some air.”

“We’re worried about you, sweetie.” She’d switched to her cooing voice. “When are you coming home?”

“I don’t know. Maybe when there aren’t any creepy dudes with scary eyes in the house. Maybe never.”

There was a short pause. Bailey knew it meant his mom was trying to get her anger under control. “Don’t say that. You need to come home soon. Your father and I want to talk about what happened tonight. You may have thought you saw something, but I promise you it’s not what you think. We know how you can overreact.”

“How would you know what I think?” Bailey stood and began pacing around the room. The anxiety rose in him, fueling his anger. He shook his hand, trying to make the feeling go away. Bailey hated that he didn’t have more control over his body. Ever since a meltdown during a basketball game four years ago, anxiety had been a big part of his life. Meds only helped so much. Whenever the stress got to be too great to deal with, the conversion disorder took over. Sometimes, he wondered if a demon hadn’t possessed part of his body.

“I don’t know what you’re thinking.” She’d switched to her condescending voice. “I just want you to come home.”

Bailey held the phone away from his mouth. The more he thought about his options, the clearer it was he’d have to go home at some point. Three hundred years ago, someone his age would’ve built a house by hand, farmed the land, gotten married, and had three kids. Today, he couldn’t go one night without his parents. Progress sucked sometimes. “Crap. I’m going to have to go home, aren’t I?”

“I’m sorry. I know this can’t be easy for you.”

“You think?” He spoke into the phone. “Hang on a second.”

“Look on the bright side. I bet you’ll find out more about things.” Alexis hopped off the bed and picked up the wand. “Like I said, I doubt they’re going to hurt you. You’re their son. Besides, do you really think they could do something to you and get away with it in a town this small?”

Her logic made sense to Bailey. His parents wouldn’t hurt him; after all, they’d given him life. Maybe the anxiety
was
making him a little paranoid. His therapist, Dr. Hunt, had warned Bailey about recognizing when his mind ran away from him, worrying about things that hadn’t happened yet. That kind of thinking sent Bailey’s brain into a frenzy, and it was a pain to try and stop, like an out of control twenty-car freight train.

He squeezed the phone, wishing it would break.
 
It didn’t. Defeated, he held it up to his head. “Sorry about that. I’ll be home in a little while.”

Franklin took the Mooresville exit off the Interstate. With the classic rock station he was listening to on commercial break, he turned the radio dial to a local news program, which said a car blew a tire forty miles behind him, causing a large pileup and long delays. If the package was stuck on the other side of the wreck, things were looking up. He flipped the dial back to classic rock. Creedence Clearwater Revival’s
Fortunate Son
played. Franklin felt like the song was a good omen as he passed a sign that read
Mooresville City Limits
.

Another in a long line of touristy towns on the coast of North Carolina, Mooresville looked like a combination of old and new to Franklin. The place bustled with commercial and residential developments. He wished Mr. Lovell had set up shop somewhere less populated, but his luck wasn’t that good. Trenton, even without his body, had enough juice to pull off the Awakening in a town the size of Mooresville. All Franklin could do was make the best of a bad situation, an art he’d perfected over the centuries.

He made a stop at a hole-in-the-wall bar called the Thirsty Alligator, parking El Cid as far from other cars as possible. A green neon alligator sign hung above the bar’s entrance. It made an electronic clicking sound when the mouth flashed open and closed. Franklin laughed to himself. It reminded him of bars from ‘80s’ action movies. Inside, a handful of haggard, overweight people sat around drinking and laughing. He took a seat at the bar, looking around to see if there was a Confederate Flag anywhere. The Thirsty Alligator seemed like the kind of place to fly the Stars and Bars. Franklin felt a little disappointed when he didn’t see one. He checked the neon Carolina Panthers clock behind the bar. 9:07 p.m. Franklin smiled. Somebody was running late, and for once it wasn’t him. The bartender set a napkin down in front of him.

“What can I get you? Everything we serve has alcohol in it, except water. And that’s only part of the time.” The bartender was a woman in her late twenties. She wore denim shorts and a tight green Thirsty Alligator shirt that accentuated her bust. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a ponytail.

“Can I get a Fat Tire?” Franklin tried to keep his eyes off of her breasts, which looked amazing and defined in the dim lighting, thanks to the shadows.

“ID? I’m sure you’re over twenty-one, but the law says I have to check.”

Franklin showed her his license. If she only knew how old he really was. “Rules were made to be broken, you know.”

“Sorry, Evan Hightower.” She tilted the ID toward her while Franklin held it, her fingers overlapping his. “Not when breaking them means I lose my livelihood.”

He put the license back in his wallet. “Jobs come and go.”
 

“Yeah, but why mess with a good thing?” She set the Fat Tire down in front of Franklin. “Or even a halfway decent thing. My name’s Julie. Holler if you need anything.”