Dark Ride Read online

  Chapter 9

  “You have got to be kidding, Jack.” Mason says. His irritation coming through the phone is more than justifiable. “This just won't do—no, not at all. We're leaving in like an hour.”

  “I know, I know. But I'm really up the creek here. Look, I blew it this time. How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?”

  “Jack, what about our plan? The three of us, taking a keepsake from the Enchanted Forrest. There has to be a way you can get out of this.”

  “Dude, I'm stuck here. I'm just as hacked as you are. You two will just have to go without me. Other than sneaking out tonight, I really have no other options. My mom is not going to give.”

  “That's a good idea!”

  “What?”

  “Sneak out.”

  “Oh…I don't know, Mason. I'm already in the doghouse.”

  “But it's our last night at the park—your park.”

  “Sneaking out? That's about as bad as it gets. If I get caught, I may be grounded forever.”

  “Don't get caught. Jack, how late do your parents stay out at the Zuckerman's?”

  “Oh, I don't know, around 10, but sometimes later.”

  “Okay, that's it. We simply get you home by 9:30.”

  “My folks leave around 5. How am I supposed to get over to the park? I can't ride my bike—that would take over an hour.”

  “Look I will come to your house around 5:15. I'll call Scotty and tell him we are coming to his house to hitch a ride. We can ride our bikes over there in less than ten minutes. The Carnahans will have no clue you're sneaking out. It's perfect.”

  Jack thinks, You do want this really bad. It's worth the risk.

  A feeble,“Okay,” escapes from Jack's mouth before he can second-guess the heavy decision.

  “Good, Jack, see you then. You won't regret this.”

  He's right, Jack says to himself, Everything will work out fine…I hope.

  For the next hour, Jack whirls about his room in quiet preparation. In order for this to go smoothly, he has to account for Blair. She would be lurking around the house, and if she got the slightest notion of his plan, he would be busted.

  Years ago, there had been no sibling rivalry. There are scrapbooks filled with happy pictures that bare proof. One shows Blair, age five, holding little Jack. Another is a shot of them as small children with paint-covered faces, grinning at the camera. And another has Blair, age nine, and Jack, age seven, standing in three inches of snow, proud of a four-foot snowman built with themselves. But those photos, those happy memories, are mere shadows of the past. The rivalry and hostility began the instant Blair turned 12.

  It was an elaborate party. Wallace and Brenna had gone all-out with cake, balloons, family, and friends, all filling the Braddock living room. Brenna had even given Blair a new white dress to wear to the party. It was exactly what Blair wanted, a tribute to her. Blair no longer saw herself as a little girl, and this marked the culmination of her transition out of childhood with a towering birthday cake celebrating the coming of age of one soon to be crowned princess.

  For his part, Jack wanted to do something special as well. He was a prankster, of course, and a trip to the novelty store had provided him with trick candles, ones that would re-light after being blown out over and over again. Jack beamed with pride as he relished in the joke. He thought it would be perfect and that everyone would love it. On the day of the party, he had taken every precaution to make sure no one saw him replace the ordinary candles with the trick ones. During the celebration, Jack watched from a distance, simply awaiting the cake and his moment. His eyes followed the cake as it was brought from the kitchen. Blair stood at the end of a table, flanked by an assortment of 12-year-old girls and one boy, her current “boyfriend,” a blonde-haired kid named Grayson. This was her day, and she glowed with pride. The white cake was lowered to the table, and the guests began to sing. Twelve candles were lit. They sparked and flared to life.

  Jack eased forward to get a good view. Before blowing them out, Blair thanked everyone in a diva-like salute. Jack could hardly contain his excitement. Then Blair began to blow out the candles. With a rather ladylike gust of wind, she puffed several times, and the candles went dead. Jack starred, anticipating what was to come next. The candles, one by one, sparked back to life. A few laughs rippled through the mass of guests. Blair looked slightly embarrassed and repeated her dainty gusts. The scene repeated itself. Jack could not contain his own pride. He wanted everyone to know this was his joke.

  “Gotcha good, Blair,” he announced.

  After few more laughs, Jack looked for approval, but he was disappointed. The girl made an unfamiliar face, one of anger and irritation. She was determined not to allow the prank to spoil her party. She climbed up on a chair, hovering over the cake itself. Forgetting her ladylike charms, she sucked in lungs full of air and blew down upon the cake candles. Her face showed determination; this time she would win. But as she blew out the wind in her cheeks, her right arm gave way. Her entire body lost balance and she collapsed head first into the cake. Her dress was ruined, her cake was ruined, and, by all accounts, her perfect day was ruined as well.

  Jack was punished for the prank, even though he said, “But I didn't mean for that to happen.”

  His mother was furious and responded, “But it did.”

  It was that event that marked the change in their relationship. Blair never got over the embarrassment of that day. It was supposed to have been the greatest day of her life. For his part, Jack had never gotten over being punished for the good-natured prank. It made little difference that it was one isolated incident up to that point. From that moment on, the sibling rivalry had begun, and since then, things between Blair and Jack have never been the same. No matter how small the offense, the slightest argument would turn into a global conflict. Now, Blair saw Jack as her irritating little brother, and she took joy in getting him in trouble. In Jack's eyes, Blair was his nosy older sister, so tonight, as he prepared to sneak out of the house, he would have to watch out for her.

  He and Mason had carefully talked over the plan. The review had taken quite some time from start to finish, but Jack felt ready. He pulls out the fire escape ladder from underneath his bed. He had never used it, so he familiarizes himself with how it works. There will only be a few minutes between the moment his parents leave and when Mason shows up to aid in his escape. He looks at the backpack in the corner. It is the perfect vessel for stashing the golden goose. He grabs an old red-hooded sweatshirt from his drawer and places it inside his backpack along with a T-shirt. He always packs an extra shirt just in case he gets wet on one of the water rides. Finally, He snags a pack of Twizzlers, his favorite candy, from the nightstand and then stands, scanning the room for anything else he might want or need.

  From underneath a pile of socks, hastily placed in the corner of his closet, he removes a small plastic hippo. The container bought at the Louisville Zoo when he was six has faithfully served as his piggy bank. He pulls out a wadded up $20 bill and three fives.

  A knock on his door causes him to quickly sling the bank back in the closet.

  “Who is it?”

  “It's mom, I'm coming in.”

  The ladder! remembers Jack.

  With cat-like agility, Jack leaps over to the ladder and kicks it under the bed. He then assumes the proper hurt-slash-penitent look of sitting on the edge of his bed and staring at a spot on the wall, looking completely bored with a little bit of “my cat just died” thrown in.

  His mom walks into the room with a casserole dish in her hands.

  The smell of his mother's tuna casserole fills the room. Ugh, Jack says to himself. The vile concoction has made Jack sick more than once.

  “Jack, your father and I are leaving.”

  Jack can see the outline of his father coming up from behind his mom.

  “Jack, I simply want you to do the right thing. Today you made a bad choice and that has to be addressed.”

  “I
said I was sorry.”

  “There are still consequences, Jack. You know that.”

  In another desperate plea, Jack says, “But I'm being punished for something Blair did. She started the whole—”

  “I don't want to hear it, Jack. The decision is made.” Brenna chews on her lip a moment, trying to figure out how to soften things. She goes with, “I love you, Jack. I want you to learn to be the man your father and I hope you'll be, okay? And that's not someone who antagonizes others.”

  The feelings of guilt wash over Jack. His mom had played the “I love you” card. He reprimands himself for even thinking about sneaking out and surmises, I can't do that now. Somehow moms know exactly when to say those three little words. Jack is convinced that his mom has been a part of some underground secret mother society where she worked on using guilt as a weapon.

  “Jack,” his father interjects. “This kind of behavior is not acceptable. I hope you take the hurt of tonight and channel it into improved behavior. You have so much potential. We need to see a drastic change for the better soon. ” It is a typical Wallace Braddock moment. He speaks to Jack like an employee he is threatening with a pink slip.

  Brenna steps in front of Wallace, a gesture to show that he isn't speaking for the both of them, and says, “We'll be back before 10. Just…make wise decisions, okay?”

  Before she exits, she leans over and kisses him on the forehead. “Bye, Jack, don't stay up too late. I have a list of chores we need to tackle first thing in the morning.”

  Exiting, his father nods to him and closes the door.

  The guilt settles somewhere in Jack's head and seers his conscience. There is no way he can sneak out now. Locking the door behind his parents, Jack grabs the backpack, unzips the bag, and pulls out the contents.

  After a few moments, he hears the front door close and his father's Toyota Camry start. He sulks over to retrieve the plastic hippo when he hears an odd sound.

  Ping, ping.

  The sharp noise is coming from the window. Jack takes four steps and looks through the pane. The car is gone. He scans the yard…nothing. Then, another ping. Looking straight down below him he sees Mason hidden amongst the shrubbery and dressed head to toe in black. Something large is draped over his shoulder.

  Jack can't believe this. He's here already? he thinks. How can I tell Mason I'm not going through with this?

  Jack lifts the window. “Mason, the coast is clear. You can get out of our bushes.”

  Before leaving his hiding spot, Mason gives a comical exaggerated glance to his right, then to his left. He slings whatever is draped over his shoulder to the lawn and then dives from the brush and rolls into the lawn. He looks around again, and in a loud whisper, he calls up to Jack, “Okay, Braddock, the great escape begins now.”

  Oh man, thinks Jack, better just say it. He explains, “Uh…Mason, I'm not going.”

  “What?”

  “I said I'm not going.”

  “Why, what's gotten into you?”

  “Well, I….” Jack thinks, I can't tell him my mom said “I love you.” I would never hear the end of that. Think fast. He says, “Uh, I've got homework.” Immediately, he tells himself, Oh no, no, no that's not good.

  “You've got homework, Jack? It's summer! Are you kidding me?”

  “Uh, yes—I mean no—I've got homework—like, work to do at home.”

  “Jack, you're chickening out.”

  “No, I'm not. Just got a lot of chores.”

  “Jack, we only have fifteen minutes to get over to the Carnahans'. Need I remind you that tonight is the last night we will ever be able to go to the park? We have plans, awesome plans. You're not going to let me down, are you?”

  Oh brother, thinks Jack, Now Mason has played the “let me down card.” What am I going to do? Jack stares down at Mason and realizes, This will be my last chance. Mason has gone to a lot of trouble.

  Jack nods at his friend and removes the escape ladder from its resting place. The ladder latches to the window frame easily and chain link steps flow down to the ground. Mason grabs the thing from the lawn and struggles up the ladder.

  At the window, Mason slings the large item from his back. To Jack's astonishment, he sees that it's a dummy dressed in a green T-shirt and jeans. The head is made out of a volleyball, complete with a brown wig.

  Knowing that secrecy is the upmost priority, in a whispered hush Jack asks the obvious, “What are we gonna do with that?”

  A whispering Mason responds, “We're going to place this thing in the bed. Just in case your sister comes into the room. It took me three hours to make it this afternoon. I stuffed it with grass cuttings.”

  “You're gonna put your backyard in my bed?”

  “Yeah. But it doesn't look like my backyard.” Mason sidles up next to the dummy and smiles as if Jack's got a camera.

  “Fine.”

  “What was that all about anyways? You were backing out.”

  “No, my parents really gave me a bunch of stuff to do.”

  He didn't mention that his mother had prepared the list for tomorrow. Mason seems appeased but leery. Shrugging off the uncomfortable moment, the two friends finagle the dummy in the bed.

  “What made you think of this?”

  “Jack, this is not my first escape. This Chuck is just the latest of many.”

  “It has a name?”

  “Of course, it's Charles Coltraine Higgenbotham. Chuck, for short.”

  “I don't care.”

  Mason covers the dummy's ears and says, “You'll hurt his feelings.” He spies a tinge of reluctance on Jack's part. “Come on, always works for me.”

  “Look, this is stupid.”

  “We need to go, the Carnahans are expecting us.” Mason sneaks over to the window and drapes his right leg over the ledge. “Come on, Jack.”

  The time is come for Jack to decide between enjoying the park or dealing with the guilt. Mason is already out of sight. Okay, Jack says to himself, let's do this. The decision has been made, the plan is back on.

  Jack looks down at the backpack and quickly replaces the removed items before slinging it over his shoulder.

  Someone knocks on his door.

  “Jack, Jack. What's going on in there?” asks Blair.

  Chapter 10

  Jack panics. Rushing over to the window, he unlatches the ladder.

  “Umph.”

  A quick glance out the window by Jack reveals Mason lying in an awkward pile upon the lawn.

  “Who are you talking to in there?”

  “Who's talking?” If he does not open the door soon, Blair will ruin the whole thing. He sees Chuck in the bed. After yanking the sheets over the dummy, he knows he has to position himself in front of his sister. She cannot enter the room or else he is busted.

  “Jack, you're up to something.”

  “You always think that.”

  Opening the door, Jack tries to force any remnant of guilt from his face.

  “Now what do you want?” Jack asks.

  “Who were you talking to?”

  Jack sees the phone in her hand. “Who are you talking to?”

  “No one.”

  “Then me neither.”

  “I'm not an idiot.”

  “Debatable.”

  “Ha ha. Very funny. Perhaps I should call mom and dad and tell them you have a friend in your room?”

  “Oh, now I understand. You heard me talking to Mason.”

  “Mason Chick? What's that little troublemaker doing here?” Blair attempts to look behind Jack, but Jack, equally as tall, maneuvers to block her view.

  “He was on the phone, Blair.”

  Jack knows that he must draw her attention away from the room. Jack steps out into the hall, shutting the door behind him. He must draw her away. Jack wants more than anything to check on Mason and escape, but for now, putting Blair's suspicion at ease is top priority. He needs to turn this around.

  “Talked to Colton tonight?”

  “N
one of your business.”

  “Blair, I will be listening tonight. Mom and dad told me to keep my eye on you,” says Jack, and then he thinks, This is good.

  “They what?”

  “You heard me. They think you're going to try something sneaky.”

  Jack lures Blair away from the doorway and walks toward the staircase.

  In pursuit, Blair trails behind, agitated. “Look, you little toad, for your information, you ruined everything. Because of you, Colton is mad at me.”

  “Think he will find another cheerleader to hit on at the mall?’

  “You are so full of yourself. You make me so….”

  Jack waits for the final words of her insult, but realizes something is wrong. Blair is giving him a suspicious look.

  “Jack, what's that backpack for? Are you going somewhere?”

  A lump forms in the pit of Jack's throat. He forgot about the backpack draped across his shoulder. He must think fast, but, then again, thinking fast is Jack's forte.

  “Oh, this? Well, if I'm going to be stuck in my room for a week, at least I can be comfortable. I don't see why this is any of your business. I'm going downstairs to get some snacks for the prison.”

  Jack walks hastily down the steps and into the kitchen, acting out his latest rouse. Blair follows, watching him. He snags a roll of powdered doughnuts and a box of granola bars and places them in the backpack.

  “Sure hope things turn out okay with Colton. I would hate to think I'm the reason your latest love connection failed.”

  He knows he is milking the whole Colton thing, but it's working. The more he can get Blair focused on her would-be-boyfriend, the less she would wonder what he is up to.

  The two siblings walk back up the stairs. Now, Jack puts the final touches on his scheme. “Look the best thing either one of us can do is just stay out of each other's way. I'll be in my room, and you can text whoever you want in yours.”

  Pausing at her door, Blair considers the deal and then replies, “That's the smartest thing I think you've ever said, loser.”

  Slam!

  Back in his room, Jack pulls the sheet down again, revealing only the head of Chuck. He turns his backpack upside down emptying it of the items he had just grabbed. He slings the pack back over his shoulder and carefully hides the snacks.. He turns off the lights and makes one last survey of his room. He imagines Chuck will do a fine job and tells himself, Looks like I'm sound asleep.