The Demon Conspiracy (33 page)

“We got to the science department and he
walked up to this professor and said he wanted a degree. The
professor asked, what kind of degree? And Eric told him he wanted a
doctorate in genetics. When the professor found out he didn’t even
have a bachelor’s he laughed and told Eric to enroll in some
classes. Then Eric spouted off some advanced biotechnology stuff
and the professor got all interested. I didn’t understand a word of
it, but they went into an office and talked for hours! That week
Eric was tested by a whole bunch of professors. The test took days
and when they were done, they gave him a Ph.D. in genetics. Go
figure!”

“He got his doctorate in a week?” Granny was
astounded. “But how?”

“Apparently those
professors grilled him about everything under the sun and he knew
all the answers. But he started telling them things they didn’t
even know. They all decided he must have done some original
research, so they figured he deserved the degree. One of them is a
consultant for
2x-Helix,
a technology company, and he suggested that Eric
apply for a job there. The next thing I know my ordinary cousin is
working for one of the top biotech companies in the world making
six figures! My cousin! All because he went into a
cave.”

We were stunned. The next few minutes we
told Ned all about Chris and Jon. Ned was much impressed by Jon’s
magic skill. He was surprised to learn about Chris’ invention.

“Majik Juice!” Ned rubbed his chin. “I saw
something about that in today’s paper. That drink got FDA approval
in record time.”

“
Don’t
drink it,” I said. “Unless you
like cockroaches and hair. I saw him make it in our basement and
those were two main ingredients.”

Ned made a face. “That’s gross! You know, it
looks to me like we’ve got similar problems here. Maybe we ought to
keep in touch, you think?”

“That’s a good idea,” said Granny. “Got
something to write with?”

Ned and Granny wrote out their contact
information on Post-it notes and exchanged it.

“Mr. Taylor,” said Angie. “Do you have any
idea what really happened to the people who went in that cave?”

“No, ma’am, I don’t. It just doesn’t make
any sense. But if you find out anything interesting, please give me
a ring. I’ll do the same. By the way, Ms. Price, that was a helluva
tackle.”

Granny grinned. “Thanks, Ned. I played a
little rugby in the day.” She looked up as a squad car pulled into
the parking lot. “Police are here.”

After filling out a police report we left
the park. Travis asked Angie to drive slower going home since there
was no emergency, and she just laughed. “Travis, did I scare you
with my driving?”

“A little.”

“A little?” Granny rolled her eyes. “You
scared the heck out of me, and I don’t scare easy. But, Angie, you
did the job. You may have saved your husband’s life.”

Angie didn’t smile; she was clearly just too
tired. As it was we didn’t get home until after one in the morning.
Travis had fallen asleep in the car and I woke him up and led him
to his bedroom. I plopped him into bed with his clothes still on.
Before I got my pajamas on, I heard Angie crying from the room next
door. Apparently, Granny was with her, trying to console her. I had
a bad feeling about tomorrow. With Jon in New York and Chris in
jail, it probably wasn’t going to be such a great Thanksgiving.

***

The next day the
intoxicating smells of Thanksgiving food filled the air at the
McCormick house. I didn’t remember anything in my life
ever
smelling so good.
Apparently, Dr. Parrish had similar feelings when he showed up
early and began snacking right away on the vegetable trays. The man
wasn’t very fat, but he was big and I figured he needed a lot of
fuel to keep his large body going. But Parrish hadn’t come over
just for snacks and turkey. Parrish was in love with Granny just as
much as she was in love with him. Travis told me he felt it as soon
as the two adults were in the same room together. They rarely
strayed far from each other except when Granny was in the kitchen
helping Angie with the meal.

As great as everything
smelled, and it smelled utterly wonderful, actually
eating
the meal almost
made me cry. It tasted
so
good, better than any food I’d ever eaten. I
didn’t remember much about the holidays when I was little, except
that I really liked Halloween and Christmas. Poor Travis had only
been three and he remembered virtually nothing about any holidays.
Whenever Jon told him stories about Thanksgiving dinner with our
parents, Travis took his word for it. He couldn’t recall a thing
about it except the parades on TV with those giant balloon
creatures floating over the street. Sadly, none of the other foster
families I’d stayed with had ever bothered to make it a special
day. When I asked one family why, I was told they couldn’t afford
it, that the only reason they kept me was for the money. Ouch! That
was one question I never asked again. But Angie made it very
special. It was just too bad Jon and Chris weren’t there to spend
it with us.

In spite of Angie’s fantastic meal, she
stayed depressed the whole day. Word about Chris being in jail had
spread pretty fast and by mid-afternoon most of her friends knew
about it. Some people called to cheer her up, though maybe they
just wanted to learn the gossipy details about what had happened.
Angie decided to call Dr. Sanderlyn the next morning, though she
was concerned what he might think about her having two nut cases in
the same house. Granny suggested they arrange for Chris to be taken
to the clinic straight from jail, if possible. Angie reluctantly
agreed.

After dinner, we all went into the den to
watch football games. We had to drag Angie with us because she
really didn’t like sports that much. Angie, Granny, Travis and I
all crammed together on the couch and though there really was no
more room, somehow Dr. Parrish squeezed in beside Granny. Travis
thought it was fun and I could tell Angie needed the laughs and
physical contact. But I didn’t think Parrish was very
comfortable.

Angie’s afraid Chris won’t
ever come back to her
, I thought to
Travis.
She’s afraid of being
alone
.

So
is
he comin’ back?

I shrugged. I gave Angie a huge hug and
wouldn’t let go. “I’m sorry Chris isn’t here. And Jon, too.”

Angie tried to smile. “At least I know where
Chris is. I know he’s safe. I’m worried about Jon. Let’s just try
to have the best day we can, okay?”

“Okay. Angie?”

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

Angie broke down crying. She buried her face
into my shoulder. “I…love…you, too. Both of you!” Travis turned it
into a group hug session while Granny patted her daughter on the
shoulder. Parrish shifted his seat to the arm of the couch and
looked like he wanted to be some place else.

***

The day after Thanksgiving Angie called Dr.
Sanderlyn and arranged for authorities to move Chris out of jail
and into Sunnyside. He told Angie she needed to stop by and sign
papers that would admit Chris into the treatment program. I went
too, since chances were good that Angie would have an emotional
meltdown before it was over. After all, how could anyone put their
beloved spouse into a mental hospital and not be affected? I wanted
to be there for Angie.

That same morning Granny used the Mustang to
take Travis over to Mathew Dunlop’s house to play for the day.
Angie told me Travis was terribly bored because none of his friends
at school lived close by, so she promised to call Mathew’s mother.
I was the one who suggested that Granny should drive him. I didn’t
want Travis to be anywhere near Angie when she was so upset. The
whole emotional effect on him might be more than he could
handle.

When we got to the clinic
Angie insisted that I stay in the car while she went in alone. I
breathed a secret sigh of relief. Supporting Angie was one thing,
but I did
not
want to go into any psycho ward,
especially
Sunnyside, which really
didn’t seem all that sunny. The stark brick building had no
windows, no shrubbery, and no flowers. The front door had heavy
iron bars built-in, and I don’t know if there was a back door or
not, but I had a feeling it would be a difficult place to leave if
you didn’t have a key. Nonetheless, I watched the whole check-in
process as it happened through Angie’s eyes.

Dr. Sanderlyn was a tall man, bald,
overweight and probably in his sixties. I thought he seemed nice
enough at first, but his thoughts confused me. Did he really want
to help Chris? Or was he more interested in the money? I couldn’t
tell.

Almost immediately after
Angie signed the papers, she became absolutely certain she’d done
the wrong thing. She tried to convince the doctor to let her bring
Chris home again, to give him one more try. But Nurse Agnes, the
nurse in charge, physically guided Angie out of the lobby. Nurse
Agnes was a mean-looking woman with cold, dark eyes and a small,
turned down mouth. I got the feeling
nobody
argued with her.

“The doctors know how to treat your
husband,” said Nurse Agnes, directing Angie to the exit. “Perhaps
you can see him again by Christmas. Don’t call us. We’ll call
you.”

Somehow Angie made it back inside the van
before she fell apart. She cried like a baby and started bumping
her forehead against the steering wheel until I stopped her. She
hit it pretty hard, too. If the wheel hadn’t been padded she might
have knocked herself out.

I totally understood her
pain. The idea of putting Chris into that place for who knows how
long was suffocating. The worst part for Angie was she felt like a
traitor. Apparently, this was one of those times when action
didn’t
beat
fear.

After a good long cry, Angie shuddered and
straightened up. Her eyes were puffy and red as she squinted at
herself in the rearview mirror. I sensed it was time to talk.
Putting Chris away for a while was devastating, but it wasn’t the
end of the world. Sunnyside was supposed to help him get well.

“You know you had to do
it,” I said. “You
had
to. Chris would’ve gone right back to Pandora’s Cave when
they let him out of jail.”

“I know, but you don’t understand. Chris
looked homicidal! There was no love in his eyes at all.”

She was right.
Chris
had
looked
like he wanted to kill someone. It’s a good thing he’d been
shackled and guarded by two chunky deputies when they brought him
in.

Angie rubbed her eyes and
took a deep breath. “The guilt is eating me up, Kelly. Chris is my
husband—I love him! I wanted to hug him one last time to let him
know that, but Dr. Sanderlyn stopped me. He said Chris
blames
me
for
everything. I don’t know what to think.”

“Think about Chris being cured. I mean,
that’s why you brought him here.”

Angie nodded. “You’re
right, I need to trust the doctor. He certainly knows a lot more
about mental health than I do.” Angie chuckled lightly. “Poor
Chris. We got married in a church full of people he hardly knew.
His hands shook so badly when he tried to put the wedding band on
my finger, he missed it three times. His voice quivered and he
looked like he was going to faint, but he got through it. That’s
the way he is, you know. Timid, sometimes all out scared, but when
Chris puts his mind to something he’ll do it no matter what the
consequences. If he
wants
to be cured, he
will
be.”

Good
, I thought.
Angie seemed to be
coming out of her funk
. But then I sensed
that something else was going on. I looked deep into my foster
mother’s mind and saw what it was.

What if they can’t cure
him? What if Dr. Sanderlyn recommends that Chris be committed to a
state institution? What if I never see my husband again?
The tears were returning, I sensed it.

Luckily Angie’s cell phone rang. She dug it
out of her purse and looked at the caller ID.

“It’s Mrs. Dunlop. She probably wonders if
we’ll ever pick up Travis. Hello? Yes, Mrs. Dunlop, we’re on our
way. He’s not bothering you, is he? That’s good.”

Angie listened for a while, nodding her head
now and then. “Really? A weekend with the President at Camp David?
It must be exciting being a senator’s wife.”

Camp David. I’d heard of it but wasn’t
really sure what it was or why Angie was so impressed. I couldn’t
hear Mrs. Dunlop’s voice over the phone, so I listened in through
Angie.

“Where’s Mathew going to stay?” asked Angie.
“Were children invited to Camp David, too?”

“Oh, no,” said Mrs. Dunlop. “The President
isn’t all that fond of children. He’s no baby kisser, that’s for
sure. We won’t be home until after five on Sunday so we’re sending
Mathew to my sister-in-law’s.”

“It’d be perfectly fine if Mathew stayed
with us the entire weekend,” said Angie firmly. “The boys will get
a double dose of each other. If they still like each other after
that, they’ll be friends for life.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“Having Mathew over would never be an
imposition. He’s a wonderful boy. I’m cooking hamburgers and
hotdogs on the grill around five. This time I swear there won’t be
a fire.” Angie laughed uneasily. I guess she mentioned the fire in
case Travis had said something to Mathew about it.