Duck Boy (15 page)

“So, what’s your greatest fear?” Steve asked.

“I don’t want to talk about it, actually.”

“Fair enough,” he agreed with a nod.

“So now, we should both spend some time thinking, trying to discover our
greatest fear. Then we can begin to look for our Benu stones.”

Steve sat back in his chair. Lindsay stood and approached the window,
watching the crime scene through a small gap in the curtains. His mind rolled
through everything he was afraid of. None of the fears he could imagine were
great enough to stand out from any other fear.

As he thought, police processed the crime scene. When they finished, they
bordered the property with yellow crime scene tape. A fresh patrol car parked
across the street as the others left, one by one.

“A police car is watching Shannon’s now,” Lindsay observed. “It’s going to
be tricky if you have to get back into your aunt’s house.”

“It might be a problem getting back into my own house if I need to get
anything done, too. I’ll bet they’re over there by now. What am I going to do?”

“I think I should set up your sleeping quarters downstairs in the furnace
room. My dad never goes in there, and you’ll be safe.”

“Are you sure?”

Lindsay nodded seriously, still studying Shannon’s house.

“OK. Actually, now that you mention it, I’m beat.” Steve followed Lindsay
downstairs.

She tossed him a sleeping bag and rolled a cot into a narrow little room
beside the furnace and the hot water heater.

“‘Night, Lindsay. Sorry for the trouble.”

Lindsay smiled. “No problem. Stay in this room until I come and get you in
the morning, all right?”

“Sure.” Steve managed a smile. “And thanks.”

Chapter 12

The morning came quickly somehow. Steve woke and opened his eyes as the
furnace motor clunked to begin its work. For a moment he forgot where he was.
The room was absolutely dark, except for a small glow from the furnace front as
the gas flames ignited.

What time is it?

His empty stomach barked with hunger.

“Keep it down,” he replied.

His heart warmed as he thought of Lindsay. He slipped out of the sleeping
bag, sat up on the edge of the cot, and pulled a string attached to a dim bulb.
He opened the door and peeked outside of his room. A dull morning light glowed
through a small basement window. The day looked overcast, possibly stormy.

Steve heard a set of feet come down the stairs. He pulled himself back
inside the furnace room and clicked off the light. The footsteps came closer.

Duck Boy. Duck Boy.

“Hello, Steve. Are you up yet?” It was Lindsay’s voice, talking at a normal
volume.

Steve opened the door to the furnace room and stepped into the family room.
Lindsay smiled and passed him a bowl of cereal with milk already in it.

“Thanks,” he said. He sat in a chair and scooped the cereal hungrily into
his mouth.

“You’re a criminal now,” Lindsay said. She took a newspaper out from
underneath her arm and unfolded it to reveal the headline: “Nephew Wanted for
Questioning in Great Aunt and Uncle’s Disappearance.” Steve’s vision blurred as
he stared at the headline. He blinked hard to bring the letters back into
focus.

“You’re spilling your cereal,” Lindsay said with a laugh. “You don’t happen
to have your aunt and uncle in the furnace room with you, do you?”

Steve couldn’t reply.

“Woah. This is some deep doo-doo,” he exclaimed. A smaller headline read
“Son Played Role in Mother’s Disappearance.” Another small headline read “Boy
Steals Evidence.”

Steve set the bowl of cereal down and scanned the newspaper, devouring every
word. After he’d finished reading about himself, he returned the newspaper to
Lindsay and picked up the bowl of cereal, now mush, and began to eat. After a
few mouthfuls, he stopped and considered Lindsay’s smiling face. “I can’t believe
it. I’d have to be some kind of evil genius to pull off all that stuff.”

“It makes sense that you’re the prime suspect. But just looking at you now,
how could anyone possibly think that you would be capable of doing something
like this?”

“Thanks, I think,” Steve said hoarsely. “It’s funny, kinda. Except I’m in
some serious trouble here.” He thought of what his dad would say after
returning from his trip. “I can’t possibly imagine a worse Christmas.”

He pulled the paper from Lindsay’s hand and balanced it on a knee next to
his cereal bowl. As he resumed eating, he scanned the stories again. “Oh no!”
Steve dumped his spoon back in the cereal bowl. “That’s the clincher. I was
pretty stupid.” He slapped his forehead with his free hand. “I touched the
ransom note.” He slumped back into his chair and covered his head with his
hands.

Under the headline, Steve’s picture displayed. His hair a tornado of
confusion. Only one of his two eyes was looking at the camera. Head oddly
angled to the left. Wearing pajamas? Yes. Pajamas. It was a photo taken of him
when he and his dad had gone to report his mother missing.

“You what?”

“The kidnappers left a ransom note behind. I picked it up and read it and
then left it behind. They found my fingerprints on it. It says so right here.”
Steve twisted his finger into part of the newspaper story.

“But they don’t have your fingerprints on file, do they?” Lindsay asked.

“They sure do,” Steve muttered. “They took my fingerprints when my mother
disappeared, so when they dusted the inside of our house for fingerprints they
could tell whose was whose.”

Lindsay let out a low whistle. “Touching the ransom note wasn’t a bright
move.”

Steve winced. “No, not smart at all.”

“Are you going to straighten things out with the police?”

“I don’t think I can. The ransom note said that if I talk to the police
they’d kill Uncle Edward. Besides, Detective Garner will never believe anything
I say now. He thinks I’m the one responsible for taking the pictures from the
file, along with making people disappear and trashing houses. My picture makes
me look like a baby killer. And they mention accomplices. Doesn’t that make you
a criminal, too?”

“You’re right.” Lindsay sighed. “You’re the inside guy for the kidnappers.
I’m an accessory to kidnapping because I’m letting you hide at my dad’s house.”

“Yeah. If you’re right and they did tap the phones, the gang would have
heard everything Aunt Shannon and I said on the phone for the last few days.”
He paused as his thoughts gathered into a new insight. “I just thought of
something. If they were listening to the phone conversations, then these guys
will know about you, too, because we talked on the phone earlier tonight. You
can bet that they’ll find out where you live and pay you a visit.”

“Geez. I never thought about that.” A look of surprise crossed her face.
“You’re right. And they’ll know that I know how to make a Benu stone, too.”

“So we’re both in the same boat,” Steve suggested glumly.

“We’re in the same boat,” Lindsay agreed. “We need to find our Benu stones
today and start experimenting. Get your notebook and let’s move.”

“Is your dad upstairs?”

“Nah, he’s not even home yet from last night.”

“Wow, he likes to party.”

“Yeah, he sure does,” Lindsay scowled. “I think I know what my fear is,” she
added. “So we should begin to look for my stone first. We’ll look for yours
afterwards because we might have to go to your house and stuff.”

Steve nodded. “So where do you want to begin?”

“I’m going to go collect a bunch of things and do the clock-lock test. Come
on upstairs. We’ll experiment in the living room.”

“Can I get a bit more to eat?” Steve asked cautiously.

“Sure. The fridge is all yours.”

Steve packed up his things, stuffing his coat, hat, and gloves into his
backpack. Backpack in hand, he followed her up the stairs, to the main floor,
toward the kitchen. Steve made a beeline for the refrigerator as Lindsay headed
down the hall to her room.

Steve could hear Lindsay walking through the house dropping things into a
cardboard box. As soon as he’d found some reasonably fresh ingredients and
thrown together a ham sandwich, he made his way to the living room, munching.
Lindsay arrived a few minutes later with a box loaded with items.

“I found a few things to experiment with. We can speed things up if you hand
each of the things to me. I’ll try them. If they don’t work, I’ll pass them
back to you.” She looked up from the box of objects and met Steve’s eyes. “Keep
track of which objects I’ve tested. I don’t have the time to experiment any
more than I need to. We don’t have time to waste.”

“Umphkay,” Steve said, the sandwich in his mouth garbling his words. She
took a seat in an armchair. In one hand she held a clock. Steve handed her a
belt.

“Clock-clock-clock-clock-clock-clock-clock-lock-lock-lock-lock-lock-lock-lock,” Lindsay spoke firmly to the belt. Nothing happened. She checked her grip and tried the words again. “Clock-clock-clock-clock-clock-clock-clock-lock-lock-lock-lock-lock-lock-lock.”

Still nothing. She passed the belt back to Steve. He passed her a silver dollar. She spoke the words while touching the coin. Nothing. She gripped the coin in her fist and retried the experiment a second time.

“Why are you doing each experiment twice?” Steve asked.

“I want to be sure everything is just right,” Lindsay replied. “I want to
make sure my connections are good. We can’t afford to make a slight mistake and
accidentally miss finding it.”

“Good point.”

The two worked steadily for more than an hour. Steve passed her every object
she had in the box. She experimented with each thing and passed it back. Steve
passed all kinds of objects to Lindsay—mugs, stuffed animals, Christmas
decorations. Nothing worked.

“Let’s take a break,” Steve suggested after they’d finished the last object.
“You’ve been working pretty hard.”

Lindsay nodded tiredly. She seemed worn out by the experiments. They chatted
a bit and then looked over at Aunt Shannon’s house. A patrol car sat dutifully
out front. Lindsay got up and walked through the house, replacing old objects
to their proper locations, and finding new ones to test.

“If I had time to think more about this experiment, I’d have a better idea
of what to look for. But since we’re in a hurry, I have to count on luck a
little more.” She passed Steve the new box of things and they began their
experimentation again. He picked a small doll out of the box and passed it to
Lindsay. So it began.

An hour and a half later they were both exhausted and still hadn’t found
what they were looking for. “Did you miss anything?” Lindsay asked angrily.

The tone of Lindsay’s words jolted Steve out of his tired daze. “I’ve been
careful,” he said quietly. “You experimented with everything in this box.”

Lindsay’s features relaxed quickly. “Sorry, Steve. I’m just frustrated.” She
took the last object—a plastic dollhouse—tossed it into the box, then slumped
forward with her head in her hands, looking discouraged. “This isn’t easy. I’ve
tested everything I could think of. I can’t think of another thing to try.”

Steve’s part in the experiments had given him a few clues as to things she
might be looking for. “Why don’t I look around for some stuff? I might see
something you missed.”

“All right,” Lindsay agreed. Steve looked around the house and collected a
few things that they hadn’t tested. Steve brought them into the living room
where Lindsay sat resting.

“Are you ready?”

“Yup, give me the first thing,” Lindsay requested. She resumed her grip on
the clock. Steve handed her an empty bottle. Lindsay snorted a laugh when she
saw it. She tried it, but like the rest of the things they had tried, it didn’t
work. Steve went to take the bottle from her hand and replace it with something
else. But Lindsay wouldn’t let go of the bottle.

“You know,” she said thoughtfully, “I was thinking that the object had to be
a ‘special’ thing to me. But it might just be an ordinary thing, too. If a
thing represents my greatest fear, I probably wouldn’t like it, right? It could
be just any old thing?”

“I suppose so,” Steve shrugged.

“I’ll be right back.” She disappeared for a moment and returned with a key
in her hand. She held it overhead triumphantly. She bounced into the armchair
with a new energy. “I’m going to try this.” She grabbed the clock and squeezed
the key with her fingers.

“Clock-clock-clock-clock-clock-clock-clock-lock-lock-lock-lock-lock-lock-lock.”
Lindsay stared at the clock. The clock sat quietly for a moment and then began
to shake in her hand. She opened her hand wide, like the clock had somehow
shocked her. The clock dropped onto the floor. Lindsay and Steve heard a giant
ripping sound. The room filled with a brilliant kaleidoscope of light. A tight
vortex of wind swirled around the room. And then it all stopped. A pleasant
earthy smell filled the room as Lindsay and Steve sat together silently, struck
dumb by their success.