The Demon Conspiracy (29 page)

“No,” I lied. “We ran into each other
chasing the ball. It was an accident.”

“Oh. Okay.” Lewis looked like he didn’t
believe a word of it, but with me standing there and Donnivee on
the run, what else could have happened?

Off and on for the rest of
the day I considered what Manson had said about Donnivee’s home
life. If her father really did beat her, then maybe it
wasn’t
her fault she was
so mean. For the first time ever, I felt sorry for the class
bully.

But something else was on
my mind. I had controlled almost the entire class,
made
them do what I
wanted! The feeling was incredible. My confidence soared like a
hawk in the wind. I was
superior
. Nobody could ever hurt me
again because
I
was in charge. And, yet, I hardly knew what I was doing. What
if I got
really
good at controlling people? If that happened, I’d be
untouchable! I nodded. Power had a sweetness I’d never experienced
before. And I liked the flavor.

23

MAJIK JUICE

KELLY

Travis got home from school that day,
surprised to see Granny and me waving to him from beside the
minivan.

“Over here,” said Granny. “Give me your
backpack.”

Run!
I said inside his head. Without thinking, Travis ran to us
and gave his pack over to Granny.

Why’d you do that?
he asked mentally, knowing that I’d made him run.
He gave me a puzzled look.

Because I
can
.

He didn’t like my reply, but he didn’t worry
about it. He could tell something big was happening or Granny would
be not out here like this. “What’s goin’ on?”

She explained. “Chris has a real important
meeting. He wants Angie and both of you along for the ride. It’s my
job to get you into the van. In you go, now.”

Travis followed me into the captain’s
chairs, while I asked the questions that were on his mind, too.

“Who’s he meeting? What’s it all about?”

“Bottling company execs,” said Granny. “He
wants to sell his product.”

I had trouble with that. Chris sell
something? The old Chris was too shy and the new Chris was too
mean. Either way his product had better be good. But I knew it
wasn’t. It was the stuff he made in the basement with roaches and
hair in it. I made a face just thinking about it. Chris didn’t have
a ghost of a chance selling something made of roaches and hair.

Chris burst out onto the front porch. He
wore a dark blue suit and a white shirt with a blue patterned
necktie. His thin hair was slicked back and his shoes were so
polished they might have been brand new. I had never seen him look
so sharp. Chris carried a leather briefcase and a cardboard mailing
tube over to the minivan.

“Angie, move it!” He shouted like he was
angry, but that wasn’t unusual these days. He stood by the van and
tapped his foot impatiently.

Travis and I looked at each other. “Maybe we
should stay home,” I suggested, my voice a little shaky.

“Yeah,” said Travis. “I
don’t know nothin’ about drinks, but I
do
know I don’t wanna be with
him
.”

“You don’t know
anything
about drinks,”
I said, trying to teach him better English. He rolled his eyes at
me. He must have been practicing eye rolls lately because it was
irritating.

Angie hurried out of the house searching
through her purse along the way. “I’m coming, darling! Wait. The
keys!” She turned and went back inside.

“Don’t you
dare
make me late!”
Chris’ tone was menacing. It really ticked me off to hear him talk
to Angie so mean like that.

Granny didn’t like it either. “He’s acting
like he’s chairman of the board. Maybe I’ll have a quick chat with
him before he goes.” Granny walked up to Chris and stepped toe to
toe, like she was picking a fight.

“I gotta see this!” Travis pressed his face
against the window to get a good view. I was right beside him.

“You’re rather demanding all of a sudden,”
said Granny, clenching her jaw.

She’d caught Chris unaware.

But the surprise on his face changed to
cold, calm hatred. He half-smiled at her. “Don’t worry, Matilda.
Once I sell my product, I’ll be out of your hair.”

“Does that mean you’ll be a nice boy
again?”

“It means I can leave. Get out of my
face.”

Travis looked at me in
surprise.
He can leave? What’s that
mean?

I don’t know.

After a long, challenging glare, Granny
finally stepped away. When she walked around the minivan and
returned to us, she lowered her voice. “I don’t know Chris all that
well, but I never would have guessed he’d stand up to me.”

“He probably wouldn’t have before the cave,”
I said.

“The cave?”

“Granny, you’ve missed a lot.”

“You and I will definitely have a chat about
that later. Good luck with our nervous little boy.”

“I’m not nervous,” said Travis
defensively.

“She means Chris,” I explained.

“Huh?” Travis thought about it until he saw
Chris pacing again. “Oh.”

When Granny went into the house, she passed
Angie coming out.

“Got ‘em!” Angie held up
the keys and hurried to the van. Travis looked at me, feeling very
afraid. He didn’t want to go with Chris anywhere for
any
reason. Chris’
new
man-in-charge
personality was scary.

As Angie opened the driver’s door I
whispered how we felt. “Angie, we don’t want to go with him. Chris
acts like he’s possessed by a demon.” There, I said it. I didn’t
actually make an accusation, but I planted the seed.

Angie nodded. “I know what you mean. I think
he’s just nervous about his presentation. But he won’t leave
without us, all of us. He thinks having the family along will help
his chances of impressing the bottling executives. Will you go?
Please?”

My brother and I exchanged
a quick glance.
Angie’s scared,
too,
I said inside his head.
She needs us
.

Travis shrugged. “Can we go to McDonald’s on
the way back?”

“Absolutely.”

Travis looked for my approval and I nodded.
“Okay,” he said. “We’ll go.”

***

We arrived at the offices of the Summit
Beverage Corporation at 4:47 PM. The place was a complex of
multi-story buildings of different heights and shapes. The walls of
each structure were made of silver, mirror-like material, bright
and beautiful. It reflected trees, sky, cars, people—everything. It
was like living, ever changing wallpaper on the outside of the
building.

As soon as Angie parked the minivan, Chris
got out. He used his reflection from the building to straighten his
tie and adjust his suit, before charging in the front door with the
suitcase and the mailing tube. We were just getting out of the van
when he disappeared inside.

“I guess he doesn’t want us along after
all,” said Angie, a little put out.

A second later Chris popped his head out the
door. “Let’s go! I’m late!”

“You still want us with you?” said Angie,
surprised.

“Yes!”

“Oh. I didn’t dress for this kind of
thing.”

“What kinda thing is it?” asked Travis. He
and I both had on blue jeans and hoodies. We probably weren’t
dressed for it either. We jogged to catch up, but when we did,
Chris walked even faster. We finally caught him at the information
desk. A sturdy looking security guard met us.

“Can I help you?” asked the guard.

“Yes,” said Chris in a
bold, direct voice. “I’m Chris McCormick. I have an appointment
with Mr. Nabors. I apologize for being late, but I assure you
he
will
want to
see what I’ve got here.”

“Just a minute, sir.” The guard took up a
phone and spoke in a low voice. He looked serious as he listened,
then hung up. “You have less than ten minutes, Mr. McCormick. Mr.
Nabors leaves the building promptly at five. Go through that door
and take the elevator on your left to the third floor. His
secretary will meet you.”

A tall, attractive woman with dark red hair
met us on the third floor, just like the guard said she would. “Are
you Mr. McCormick?” she asked. “I’m Coryn Lantz, Mr. Nabors’
personal secretary. Do you realize how late you are?”

“Yes,” said Chris. “I apologize. We got
caught in beltway traffic.”

“Don’t we all?” Coryn said it coldly, as if
everybody used that excuse. “You only have five minutes to show him
your product. Mr. Nabors will not stay past five P.M.”

“I only need five seconds of his time,” said
Chris. “Five seconds and he’ll become one of the richest men in the
country.”

Lantz was impressed. So was I. That was a
bold thing to say. I’d never heard Chris be assertive before,
except when he was grouching about us being in his basement.

“Is this your family? Perhaps it would be
better if they stayed with me? Mr. Nabors isn’t terribly fond of
children, I’m afraid.”

“They come with me,” said Chris. “I need
them.”

Angie smiled when he said it. It made her
feel like maybe they still had something left of their marriage,
which hadn’t been the case since we came out of Pandora’s Cave.

Lantz opened the door to a
large meeting room with a tremendous, rectangular wood table in the
center. I gaped at the room. The carpet was deep red and felt thick
and squishy under our feet. The wooden furniture was highly
polished. Three men waited at the far end of the table, which
seemed miles away from where Chris stood. A lot of money had gone
into this place.
Big
money.

Travis stayed close to
Angie.
That lady was
right
, he thought to me.
Those men don’t like kids. They don’t like us at
all.

Do you feel ghost fingers?

No, but they don’t want us
here. They wanna go home and Chris is slowin’ ‘em down.
I looked at the clock, 5:58.

Chris signaled for us to stay where we were,
then marched up to the men and set his suitcase on the table in
front of them. He opened the suitcase and removed a tall, rolled up
poster from the cardboard tube. He spread the poster across the
table and used the men’s personal coffee mugs to hold down three of
the corners. The men exchanged hostile glances when Chris handled
their mugs.

They want to throw him
out!
I thought to Travis.

The elderly man seated on the right had
white hair, and not much of it. He was feeble looking and had to
lean on a silver cane even while he sat in the chair. The expensive
suit he wore didn’t hide his shaking hands.

The guy on the left was Asian, with cold,
hard eyes that never seemed to blink. He was younger and wore an
equally expensive suit, perfectly tailored. He stood against the
wall with his hands before him, fingertips touching. He looked like
he could have been either a hit man or an undertaker in another
life. Maybe both.

The important looking black man in the big
chair at the end of the table sat up tall. He was distinguished
with perfect gray hair. I thought he looked like a model, except
that his eyes were intense, like a predator watching its dinner. He
checked his Rolex watch. I looked up at the wall clock again. Chris
only had one minute.

The poster on the table showed a
professional ad for three different flavors of his new fruit drink
called “Majik Juice”. I couldn’t believe Chris was capable of
making such an impressive presentation.

“I’m Chris McCormick,” said Chris bravely.
He offered to shake hands with the men, but they never moved. He
went on. “You must be Mr. Nabors?”

Nabors was the black man who sat in the
middle. He made a point to glance at his watch again. “You are
late, Mr. McCormick. We leave at five. You have thirty
seconds.”

Chris smiled and began
with confidence and conviction. “Gentlemen, I give you the future
best selling product in the history of the modern world. I call it
Majik Juice. Why did I pick such a name? Because if you take but
one sip of any of the three flavors I offer, I guarantee you’ll
want to finish the bottle. And after that you’ll want to buy more,
because it tastes so
damn
good!”

He took three bottles of Majik Juice out of
his suitcase. The bottles had professionally designed labels and
looked as good as anything in the stores. He popped the top off
each bottle.

“I’m so sure you’ll like
this and want to market it, I’m willing to offer you a personal
guarantee. I will work for your company, completely free, every day
for the next year if you don’t like Majik Juice. It’s
that
good. Here you go,
gentlemen. Enjoy.”

Chris presented each of the men with a
different flavor. Nabors took the cherry flavor and glared
unsmiling at Chris. He sniffed the contents of the bottle.

“One sip,” said Chris.

Nabors looked at his fellow executives and
took a tentative sip. He swished the contents around in his mouth
for a moment before swallowing it. He showed no interest or
reaction at all. Suddenly, he smiled broadly and nodded at his
fellows.

“Man, he’s not kidding. That’s the best
stuff I’ve ever put in my mouth! Try this!” The men traded flavors
and discovered they liked one flavor as much as another. Nabors got
up and shook hands with Chris.