Read The Prisoner of Cell 25 Online
Authors: Richard Paul Evans
“I don’t care what day we celebrate,” I said with my mouth full.
“And we’ll have cake and ice cream tonight. Do you and Ostin still want to go to the new aquarium on Monday?”
“Yeah. And can we go to PizzaMax for dinner?”
“Whatever you want. It’s your day.” She smiled at me and her eyes got all sparkly. “I can’t believe you’re fifteen. Another year and you’ll be driving. You’ve grown into such a fine young man. I am so proud of you.”
My mom always got emotional on my birthdays. Watermark moments, she called them. Whatever that means.
“Thanks,” I said.
“Wait, I have a present.” She ran out of the room and came back a moment later carrying a small rectangular box wrapped in tissue paper. “I know we usually wait until we have cake to open presents, but I wanted to give this to you now. It’s special.”
I pulled off the wrapping to expose a dark blue velvet box. I opened it. Inside was a man’s watch.
“Wow.”
“It was your father’s,” she said.
I lifted it out of the box, admiring it.
“Do you like it?” she asked.
“A lot. It’s cool.”
“Well, you’re a man now, so I wanted to give you something special. Turn it over; there’s something written on the back.”
I turned the watch around. It said, “I love you forever—Mom.”
“I had it engraved.”
I hugged her. “Thanks, Mom.”
“You’re welcome.”
I couldn’t imagine a better gift. I wanted to tell her that she was the best mother in the world. I didn’t. I should have.
12. The First Meeting
About an hour after my mother left for work, Ostin knocked on my door. He was carrying the multimeter and his notebook. He noticed the can of whip cream on the counter. “Dude, did you have crepes?”
“Yes.”
“Any left?”
“In the fridge. You can microwave them.”
He heated up the remaining crepes, then piled them high with powder sugar and whipped cream while I played a video game.
“That was a cool party last night.”
I nodded, intent on my game. “Yeah, it was.”
“Especially when you knocked Corky over.”
I didn’t say anything.
“Taylor’s really a babe. You know she likes you.”
“She likes everyone.”
“I don’t mean it like that. I mean she
likes
you. I read this book on body language. And I was watching her body.”
“Yeah, I bet you were.”
“No, for scientific purposes.”
“I bet,” I said.
When he’d finished eating the last of the crepes he came over to the table. “Okay, let’s see if there’s been a change in your electrical status.”
I paused the game. After the cell phone incident I was curious to find out myself. “Let’s do it.”
“Wait, what’s that?” he said, pointing to my new watch.
I held up my arm. “It’s a watch my mom gave me this morning for my birthday.”
“What’s it made of?”
“I think silver. It has my name engraved on it.”
“Hmm,” he said. “Silver has high conductivity, even more than copper. That’s why they use it in satellites and computer keyboards.”
Ostin always vomited up everything he knew about a subject.
“So?”
“Well, you should probably take it off. It might throw off our readings.”
“All right.” I unclasped it and laid it across the kitchen counter.
Then I clipped the multimeter’s cables to the ends of my fingers.
Ostin looked down at the machine. “Ready? Three, two, one, go!”
I surged.
Electricity sparked from the copper ends. “Whoa!” Ostin cried.
He set down the machine and began scribbling in his notebook.
I unhooked the clips. “What was I?”
“Dude, you’re not going to believe it.”
“What?”
“This thing goes to a thousand volts and it’s saying ERROR. You’re definitely becoming more electric.”
I sat down on one of the kitchen bar stools and put my watch back on. I wondered what that meant: more electric. “Do you think it will stop?”
“I don’t know. No wonder Taylor’s cell phone didn’t work.” He set down his notebook. “So is Taylor really coming over for cake and ice cream?”
“She said she was. Then afterwards we can have our first official meeting of the Electroclan.”
“That’s sick,” Ostin said. “Real sick.”
Ostin and I played video games most of the day except when we took a break and walked to the 7-Eleven for Slurpees.
Around five o’clock Ostin’s dad came and got him for dinner.
After he left I made myself macaroni and cheese again, then lay on the couch and read from one of the books I’d been assigned in my English class—
Lord of the Flies
. I read until Ostin came back an hour later. We still had time for a few games of Halo before my mother got home.
Mom got home at the usual time, a little after six-thirty. I could tell from her eyes that it had been a hard day. Still, she smiled when she saw me. She was carrying a chocolate butter cream cake from the supermarket’s bakery. “I got your favorite cake,” she said as she walked in. “Hi Ostin.”
“Hi Mrs. Vey. How was work?”
“It was work,” she replied. She set the cake down on the counter.
She looked at the multimeter but didn’t say anything about it.
“Did you boys get some dinner?” She spotted the dishes in the sink and the pan still on stove. “Oh, you did. Mac and cheese.”
“Sorry, I didn’t do the dishes,” I said. “I got distracted with the game.”
“That’s okay, it’s your birthday.”
While my mother was changing her clothes the doorbell rang.
“Michael, would you get that?” she shouted from her room.
“Got it, Mom.”
I paused the game, then opened the door. Taylor stood in the hallway holding a wrapped package. I immediately started blinking.
“Happy birthday,” Taylor said. She held out the present. “This is for you.”
“Wow. Thank you.” I felt dumb that I hadn’t got her anything.
“Come in.”
“Thanks.”
Ostin stared in awe, as if we’d just received an angelic visitation, which wasn’t far from the truth.
“Hi, Tex,” she said.
I knew she was kidding but I don’t think Ostin did. He was a genius about everything but girls.
“Hey, Taylor,” he said. He’d pretty much given up on correcting everyone. As he was fond of saying, “I don’t care what you call me as long as it’s not late to dinner.” I think he meant it.
My mother walked out from her room. She smiled when she saw Taylor. “You must be Taylor,” she said.
“Hello,” Taylor said. She walked up and shook my mother’s hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”
“It’s nice to meet you too.” My mom glanced over at me standing there, holding the wrapped package.
“Taylor brought me a present,” I said.
“How thoughtful. Michael, will you get the ice cream from the freezer?”
“Sure.”
My mom led Taylor over to the table. I hoped she wouldn’t interrogate her, but, of course, she did.
“So Ridley’s an interesting name. Is it Scottish?”
“No, it means ‘cleared woods’ in Old English. So I’m like a vacant lot.”
My mother laughed. “Have you lived around here for a while?”
“I’ve lived in the same house my whole life.”
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“I have two older brothers. They both go to college. So it’s kind of like being an only child.”
“Well, we’re happy you could come tonight. Just go ahead and sit down, and I’ll get the cake.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Vey.”
My mother walked back in the kitchen, where I was scooping ice cream into bowls. “What a cute girl,” she whispered to me. “Well done.”
“C’mon, Mom. She’s just a friend.”
My mom just smiled. She put sixteen candles on the cake—one extra for good luck—lit them, and carried the cake to the table.
The three of them sang “Happy Birthday” to me, and we sat around the table for the next hour and talked and laughed. Taylor and my mother really seemed to hit it off.
I was surprised at how talkative Taylor was. She even told us her favorite birthday story. “When I was five, my mom made this
Beauty
and the Beast
cake with all these plastic trees and they caught on fire so we had a big forest fire on our kitchen table until my dad blew it out with the fire extinguisher. He’s a little extreme that way. It put out the fire but ruined the cake, so my mom ended up putting candles on Twinkies.”
We all laughed except for Ostin, who, no doubt, would have done the exact same thing as Taylor’s dad.
“When is your birthday, Taylor?” my mom asked.
“Sunday.”
She turned to me. “Michael, why didn’t you tell me? This should have been a joint party.”
“It’s just cake,” I said.
Taylor said, “So Michael, are you going to open my gift?”
“Yes.” I peeled the paper back, then opened the box. Inside was a black hoodie with our school’s name printed on the front.
“Do you like it?” Taylor asked. “I thought you could, like, wear it to the games.”
I held it up. “It’s awesome. Thanks.”
“Cool,” Ostin said. “My birthday is in March.”
My mother smiled. “That’s a very sweet gift.”
Taylor grinned happily. “It’s nothing.”
We sat around and talked until nine, when my mother started gathering up the dishes. “I think I’m going to call it a night. Taylor, do you have a ride home?”
“My dad’s going to pick me up.”
“Well it was very nice meeting you. I hope we’ll be seeing you again.”
She smiled. “Thank you, Mrs. Vey. I’m glad you invited me.”
“You’re very welcome. Good night, Ostin.”
“Good night, Mrs. Vey. Thanks for the cake.”
My mom walked over to me and kissed my forehead. “I love you. Happy birthday.”
“Thanks, Mom. I love you too.”
She walked off to her bedroom.
When she was gone Taylor said, “You’re mom is really nice.”
“She’s a babe,” Ostin said.
“Dude, she’s my mother. You’ve got to stop saying that.”
“Sorry.”
Taylor laughed. “Well, she is. I hope I’m that hot when I’m a mom.”
I wished my mother had heard what Taylor said. Lately she had been saying that she thought she looked old.
Ostin said, “So, let’s get our meeting started. Who’s going to call it to order?”
I looked at Taylor.
“I think you should be the president,” she said to me.
“Why me?”
“Because I said so.”
“I second that,” Ostin said.
Somehow her reasoning seemed a little ironic, but I wasn’t about to fight her on it. “Okay, I call the first meeting of the Electroclan to order.” I looked at Taylor. “Now what?”
“We need to follow up on our last meeting.”
“We need minutes,” Ostin said.
“No more than thirty,” Taylor said. “My dad’s coming to pick me up.”
“No, minutes is what they call the notes from the last meeting,” I said.
Ostin rolled his eyes.
“Sorry,” she said.
Ostin started. “In our last meeting Taylor shared her discovery that you were both born in the same hospital in Pasadena, California, a very unlikely coincidence. Then Ostin pointed out that the fact that both of you having this mutan—”
Taylor looked at him and he stopped.
“. . . power is a statistical improbability. And third, the hospital records of said hospital, for the eleven days around your birth dates beginning April sixteenth, appear to have been conveniently ex-punged.”
Taylor looked at me. “Does he always talk like this?”
“Pretty much,” I said. “
Expunged
means erased.” I only knew because Ostin loved using that word. “Thanks, Ostin.”
“I have something very important to add to the record,” Ostin said.
“Go ahead,” I said.
“I discovered something very disturbing. During those eleven days there were two hundred and eighty-seven births in Pasadena County.”
“What’s so disturbing about that?” Taylor said.
Ostin looked at her. “May I continue?”
“Sorry.”
“Fifty-nine of those babies were born at Pasadena General Hospital, where you two were born. As I looked over the records, I came across something very, very peculiar.” He paused just to make sure he had our attention. “Forty-two of the children born during that time didn’t live more than two days.”
“What?” Taylor and I said almost in unison.
“I checked the same time period the month before and there was
only one
baby that didn’t live.”
“Forty times the number of . . . ?” I couldn’t say it.
“That is so sad,” Taylor said. “Did it say what happened to them?”
“Unknown causes.” Ostin scratched his head. “But it gets stranger.
Get this: ninety-eight percent of those who didn’t live were born at Pasadena General. In fact, only seventeen of them lived, and that includes you two.”
I leaned forward on my chair. “You’re saying that out of fifty-eight births only seventeen babies survived?”
“Precisely.” Ostin knit his fingers together. “It couldn’t be a coincidence. A forty-two hundred percent increase in death in an eleven-day period and the records of those eleven days disappear. It’s no coincidence. I’m guessing that whatever caused those deaths has something to do with whoever destroyed the records.”
“We need to find out what was different about those eleven days,” Taylor said.
“My thinking exactly,” Ostin said. “Just give me a few days to get to the bottom of it.”
Ostin told Taylor about my most recent voltage test and a few minutes later we adjourned our meeting. A little after nine-thirty, Taylor’s dad called from our parking lot and I walked her out. Her father was driving his police cruiser, which seemed to me kind of strange, as I always just thought that police cars were for picking up bad guys, not your kid. I guess I had never known anyone who had a police officer for a parent.
Taylor’s dad looked pretty tough. His window was down and his arm was hanging out of it. He smacked the side of the car as we approached.
“Dad, this is Michael.”
“The birthday boy,” he said. “Why aren’t you in your birthday suit?”
Taylor rolled her eyes. “Dad, why do you try to embarrass every boy I’m with?”