Bloody Mary (Chapter 2)

It is 1998, and while a small Southern town is rocked by mysterious deaths, a young teen grapples with horrific visions of his classmates dying at the hands of a vengeful spirit!

“I hate wet shoes.”

The ground beneath our feet punctuated Sheena’s statement by letting out a sick “squish.” Her Reebok Freestyles sank about an inch or so into the mud. They were new and a bright white color—in theory, anyway. The laces had already turned muddy brown thanks to the puddle she missed spotting earlier. The undersides had about two layers of mud stuck to them.

After today, Sheena would be lucky if the brand name was recognizable.

“Can’t argue there,” I agreed, my own year-old Jordans just barely holding up. I wasn’t as worried since my shoes were machine washable. “I told you not to wear those to practice today.”

We were making our way across campus. Sheena had softball practice and she asked me to walk her there. I didn’t know why, and she wouldn’t tell me.

Sheena, meanwhile, made a face. “Shut up!” she barked at me, like that was going to settle things. “You sound like my dad. Ugh, he is so gonna let me have it when he gets home today.”

I ignored her and kept a close eye out for signs of trouble. Escort duty wasn’t something I was exactly happy about getting saddled with. I told the girl that she was out of her mind. She seemed nervous, though, so that was how I wound up playing bodyguard.

“You finally gonna clue me in on why you can’t see yourself across school by your lonesome anymore?” I pressed, getting annoyed. “Or do I have to keep guessing?”

Sheena hesitated and almost put her foot down in another puddle. The storm from last night left them all over the place. School had turned into a Nickelodeon obstacle course. People slipped on wet spots in the grass and were shoved face-first into mud.

At least the football team got a few laughs from it.

“Watch it!” I warned.

Instinct took over. I grabbed Sheena by the arm and stepped to the side, bringing her with me. She missed putting her foot right into the puddle by an inch or so. It looked deep enough to soak her shoes all the way through.

“Crap!” Sheena cried out.

I let go of her arm quickly and glanced around. Nobody noticed me touching her. This side of campus wasn’t as occupied. School had just let out, so everyone was either making tracks for the buses or heading out to the parking lot. The route to the practice fields was for anyone on a sports team staying after school.

“Watch your step,” I said. “Or you’ll drown before you can get your ass kicked by Nikki Sloane today.”

Sheena snorted, but then her mouth turned up into a knowing smirk. “Not likely,” she replied, lowering her voice. “She’s got bigger problems than me.”

I frowned, and Sheena patted her stomach. “If you catch my drift,” she went on.

My eyes widened. “Damn,” I said. “That’s what, the fourteenth girl that’s been knocked up since we started high school?”

“At least,” Sheena affirmed. “At this rate, the pep squad’ll be doing pyramids in maternity dresses.”

“How’d it happen?” I asked. Sheena gave me a look that I probably deserved. “I mean, besides the obvious. I thought Slone was in the Abstinence Club.”

“Like it matters,” Sheena pointed out. “She’s something like the seventh girl to sign the abstinence pledge and wind up preggers before graduation.”

“Personally,” I said, “I’m starting to think that thing is cursed.”

“It probably is,” Sheena agreed gravely. “And to answer your question, she was studying at a friend’s house when Usher’s Nice ’n’ Slow started playing on the radio.”

I couldn’t help it—I laughed. “That’ll do it,” I said while snickering. “So, who’s the father? Is Slone gonna end up on Maury Povich?”

“No clue,” she answered, shaking her head. “Rumor has it her parents are taking her on ‘vacation’...” Sheena paused to make air quotes. “...in Atlanta the minute school lets out. Assuming it’s true, she’ll be cutting cartwheels on the pitch field of whatever party college will take her come the fall.”

“That’s if the school can’t come up with an excuse to kick her out first,” I reminded.

“You would know more about that than me,” Sheena reminded me. “And shame on you for not sharing.”

“I don’t,” I stated flatly. “And you don’t need to be throwing stones, Miss Glass House. Not when you won’t tell me the reason for this detour.”

Sheena elbowed me in the side for my smart remark. “Fine, I’ll tell you.”

My ears perked up. “Go on,” I encouraged. “I’m listening.”

Sheena did look around us then. I don’t think she was as worried about people spreading rumors as I was. She wasn’t from this part of the country. Sheena had grown up on the West Coast in California. Her dad moved back east after the divorce to be closer to his own family. Sheena and her mother had issues living together without a buffer, so she wound up living with him.

Adjusting to living in O’Khata Lake took a while. I kept having to explain to her that things were different here. A white girl walking across campus with a Black kid wasn’t the sort of thing that the older locals approved of. Sure, we had been friends for a long time, but people in this town were suspicious as hell.

“Tidwell and his pack of Cromags have been giving me hell lately,” she explained.

I winced. “Okay, that’ll do it,” I said. “But I still say we need to come up with a better plan. Something that won’t get people talking and my Black ass shot on the way home.”

Sheena rolled her eyes. “Ugh, I hate this damn town,” she grumbled, eyeing one of the old school buildings as we walked past like it was to blame. “Are people here really that close-minded?”

It was my turn to give Sheena a look. “You’ve lived here since eighth grade,” I pointed out, shaking my head. “And you’re still asking me that? Girl, I’m not so sure they’re the ones who need the wake-up call.”

Sheena started to open her mouth, but then hesitated. “I concede the point, Deeks,” she admitted, though not happily. “How do you stand it, though?”

I shrugged, stepping over a puddle in the process, while Sheena only just narrowly avoided it. “We moved here when I was ten,” I explained. “It’s what I know. And it’s not like I’ll have to live with it forever.”

May had finally arrived, bringing hot days and stormy skies with it. That meant the school year was almost finished. Two more semesters of high school and I would be college bound. As soon as my ACTs arrived, I could start sending out applications. Until then, though, I was eighteen and stuck in this two-story town.

“You’re more optimistic than I am,” Sheena said miserably. “I wanna go back to California and apply to UCSF. That means living with Mom, though.”

“Didn’t she get married again?” I asked as we neared the softball field. I held back, not wanting Sheena’s team members to see me with her. “And I thought things between you and your mom were better these days?”

“They are,” Sheena admitted, stopping with me. “But Mom and I have a good relationship when there’s a continent between us. I’m not so sure being under the same roof will work out. And that’s four years of college, plus grad school if I decide to go that far. I don’t know if I can take it for that long.”

“Eh, it’s your call,” I said, turning around. “I’m gonna leave you here. You’ll be okay getting home by yourself?”

“Oh yeah.” She didn’t sound especially worried anymore. “I’ll bum a ride from one of the girls on the team. They’re always willing to drop me off.”

“Good,” I said, feeling better for her sake. “Keep me posted. If Tidwell or any of his boys give you trouble, tell me. I’ve got connections.”

“Oh, I know,” Sheena said, smiling as she walked toward the softball practice field. “That’s why I keep you around. Later, Deeks!”

I waved at Sheena without looking back, knowing she wouldn’t see it. The coast was clear as far as anybody giving me trouble. Despite that, I hurried across campus to my spot over by the metal shop. I had my own appointment to keep and couldn’t afford to be late.

The metal shop was one of the oldest buildings at Winston Central High. It looked like it had been erected in the fifties. The windows were those old types that opened at an angle and pushed outward. They were covered in grease and grime, meaning nobody could see through them.

Still, I went around the back way. Metal banged and machines screamed inside. It sounded like the shop was in session for any students who wanted extra credit or just liked to mess around with power tools. Mr. Jameson, the teacher who taught metal shop, never locked the place. At this time of the day, he and Coach Chamberlain were getting drunk in Chamberlain’s office in the weight room down by the football field.

That was good news for me. None of the other teachers came out this way. That meant I had the perfect spot to carry out my own personal affairs.

I hurried around the side and stopped just before reaching the corner. No one else had shown up yet. I set my backpack down on the ground, pressed my back against the brick wall, and waited. A quick peek around the side confirmed that some customers were already heading my way. I held my breath, wondering how much of a spread I would walk away with today.

“Yo, wassup?” said Jamie Feldman as he came around the side, trying to play it cool. He sounded like Carlton from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, all awkward and stiff, but I didn’t say so out loud. It wouldn’t have been professional. “How’s it hangin’, man?” Jamie continued.

“Low and to the left,” I answered.

Jamie nodded. “You got something for us today?” he quizzed.

Feldman was accompanied by two other guys. I didn’t know either of their names. One had a messy mop of red hair and enough freckles on his face to pass for a tan. The other was a greasy-haired guy with zits and dirt underneath his fingernails.

I narrowed my eyes at Feldman. “Dude, I told you before,” I said, picking my backpack up off the ground. “I don’t want you bringing strangers around here. I’m out.”

“Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!” Feldman called out as I pretended to walk away. “Wait! Wait! It’s cool. We’re all cool here. C’mon, man!”

I slowed my pace and looked back over one shoulder, pretending to size the other two up. “He give you two the run-down?” I asked in a no-nonsense voice that I picked up from my mom. “Cash only. I don’t take checks, credit cards, or charity. Got it?”

The two that came with Feldman nodded. “They brought their own cash,” he said, digging into his front jeans pocket for a wad of cash. “I got mine too. We ready to do a deal?”

I shouldered the backpack and slowly made my way back, eyeing the wad Feldman had the whole time. It was a lot. There was at least thirty bucks there. I wondered how much of it I could milk Feldman for this time.

“Okay,” I said, unzipping the pack. “We’re cool. What you here for?”

I opened the backpack wide enough for them to see the merchandise. The redhead behind Feldman started to reach inside. I immediately snatched the pack back and stared hard at him.

“Hands off,” I commanded sternly. “You ask and I’ll see if I’m carrying it. Don’t go putting your dirty digits anywhere near my stuff. You hearing me?”

Feldman elbowed the ginger in the ribs, who nodded. “Sorry!” he apologized. “My bad.”

“Yeah.” I waited a moment before holding the pack up. “So, what are you fellas here for today? I brought a choice selection with me so don’t hesitate.”

Feldman looked hopeful. “Got any Dragonball Z episodes in there?” he asked, squeezing the wad of bills in his hand tightly.

“Hell yeah,” I said, grinning as I reached inside. “The entire Cell Games saga. Episodes one hundred and sixty-six to one hundred and ninety-four. Uncut and unedited. In the original Japanese, no less.”

“How many discs?” Feldman asked, standing on his tiptoes.

I reached into my backpack and counted. “It’s almost thirty episodes,” I explained, taking them out. “That’s five CDs. So, I’m gonna have to charge you twenty-five for them.”

“Done!” Feldman was practically drooling as he shoved his money into my hand. “I’ll take the whole set!”

I counted the bills while Feldman held his new prize. It was hard not to laugh at how easy this was. CDs were some of the cheapest things you could buy. I could have probably squeezed the whole season on one or two discs, but spreading them out like that meant I could milk guys like Feldman for a lot more.

“Got anything in there with big robots?” the greasy human zit with dirty fingernails asked. “And big boobs?”

Keeping my face neutral, I made a show out of checking. “Lesse,” I said thoughtfully. “There’s Gundam Wing. Mobile Police Patlabor. Or…” I paused, pulling a set of four CDs out. “If you like a bit of gore and existential dread, I have all of Neon Genesis Evangelion.”

The human zit gasped. “I thought I’d have to buy all of that on VHS when it finally came to the States,” he exclaimed, digging through all of his pockets for cash. “Any chance you’ve got the movie too?”

“Sorry,” I said, shaking my head. “Not yet. But come back in a couple of weeks. I’ll see if I can’t scrounge it up for you. But it’ll cost extra.”

“No problem,” he replied, passing the cash to me. “Dude, you are the best!”

“Oh, I know,” I agreed readily before looking at the ginger. “What about you? You’ve been pretty quiet. Got anything in particular you want or just looking to try something new?”

“Um…” He glanced nervously at his two friends. “I…uh, I like…Sailor Moon. If you’ve got it, I mean.”

Jamie and the other guy dissolved into a fit of snickering, but I shut them up with a wave and a glare. “No worries there,” I said, giving the red-head a smile as I took out a set of discs for him. “What do you say to the entire third season?”

His jaw nearly hit the wet ground. “The lesbian stuff?” he gasped out, staring at the CD cases in my hands like they were a holy text.

“Yup,” I said, trying not to laugh in his face now. “The lesbian stuff. All yours too if the price is right.”

I got fifty bucks outta him. The ginger held the cases to his chest, touching them in a way that looked very inappropriate. I knew a religious experience when I saw one and felt it was best to leave the poor man alone.

“Have a nice day, gentleman!” I said as the three wandered off with their treasures.

My afternoon was just getting started. I had already made over a hundred bucks. If this kept up, I would be going home with a big smile on my face.

The next customer came along about ten minutes later. It was that quiet kid. I think his name was Colin…something-or-another. He asked me for the second season of The Slayers. Since I only had one copy with me, I charged him double for it. He didn’t seem to mind.

A girl showed up about a half-hour in. She didn’t have a particular series in mind. As long as there was gratuitous violence, she was happy. I sold her a few movies that I had. She left promising to send a few of her friends my way if my stuff turned out to be as good as she’d heard.

Word of mouth was the best advertisement in this trade.

Two more came by, thinking that I was selling drugs. I sent them off to the back of the school gym along with a warning not to come this way again. After that, business was dead.

I waited around for a little while longer before deciding to call it quits. The cash I had made for the day was safely tucked away in my Jordans. I had more sense than to keep that kind of money in my backpack. It made walking a little uncomfortable, but this was a hell of a lot safer.

Mom liked to snoop sometimes, and she asked way too many questions.

I made a quick stop by my locker on the way out. There was some kind of pow-wow going on in the teacher’s lounge. My locker wasn’t far, and I could hear low voices muttering to one another. They sounded worried.

“Must’ve run out of non-dairy creamer again,” I decided, reaching for the padlock.

The school didn’t provide combination locks for students. I had to pay for this one. It was one of those big clunky ones that weighed about ten pounds. The damn thing was intimidating as hell, which was the whole reason I was willing to cough up the extra cash for it. The sight of it alone was enough to keep everybody from messing with my shit.

This one came with a pre-set code, but there were instructions in the box on how to change it. I’m bad with remembering things like passwords or combinations. The code I changed it to was four-five-three-nine. Those were the last four digits of my zip code inverted. At first, I was worried that I had made it too easy, but nobody had gotten into my locker yet.

In hindsight, I may have been giving my classmates too much credit.

Before I got the combination lock, stuff would go missing from my locker all the time. I didn’t even use the damn thing my freshman year. School books wound up in other people’s lockers. My lunch was thrown in the trash. A really nice pair of clean gym shorts ended up in a toilet in the girl’s bathroom.

Don’t ask me why they went to that much trouble because I have no clue.

Since buying the padlock, nobody messed with my stuff. It gave me a nice feeling of security. There was one place in the whole school that nobody could get to but me. Naturally, this was bound to end soon. Honestly, I was surprised that they left me alone for this long.

Slamming the locker door shut, I shouldered my backpack and made my way through the empty halls. School always felt weird after classes let out. It wasn’t exactly sunshine and honeysuckle during the day, but the place had a creepy-ass vibe to it now. My Jordans squeaked against the freshly polished floor and the sound echoed off the walls. Sunlight streamed through the windows at odd angles, casting weird shadows on the walls.

To drown out the quiet, I pulled my Sony Discman out of the backpack. A quick push of the “Play” button made the CD inside spin like a top. It picked up where I had left off that morning. The frenetic energy of Jaded by Green Day filled my ears, making the spookiness of the school hallway recede a little.

I hurried through the door and into the sunlight. A quick jump brought me down onto my skateboard. I cut a couple of quick turns on it before taking the shortcut off campus. It was easier and it let me get home faster.

O’Khata Lake wasn’t a very big town. All of the streets were two-lanes. We still had more stop signs than traffic lights. There wasn’t a Mickey-D’s or a Wal-Mart for miles. Some of the sidewalks had cracks in them big enough to derail those new SUV monstrosities.

I stuck to the main streets while working my way through town. A couple of old locals shot me a dirty look or two. I ignored them and minded my own business. Mom was always warning me about feeding the stupid. I saw no reason to start now, not when escape was just over a year away.

All over town, posters and signs hung in the windows. Promotional signs announced the school principal’s intent to run for county treasurer in the fall. These days, it was getting harder and harder to avoid his pasty-faced ugly mug. Fortunately, the advertisement flyers did a good enough job covering some of those up.

It was getting to be that time of year again. O’Khata Lake was technically a resort town. During the summer months, tourists came through here for peace and quiet and to catch catfish. There was a water park on the far side of the lake as well that would be opening up soon. Hotels, inns, and bed & breakfasts would fill up thanks to the casino on the nearby Choctaw reservation being overbooked. Everyone at school would be working to earn extra money, praying all the while that the tourists were in a good enough mood to tip well.

I counted myself among them even though nobody was paying me to do it.

When the coast was clear, I cut through a couple of side streets. None of them were residential areas. These were back alleys used by loading trucks. Nobody bothered me there and it cut off a good fifteen minutes of travel time. Even still, I was sweating bullets. The back of my shirt stuck to my skin. May in this part of the country felt more like July. It was only going to get worse as the summer went on. Folks around here had a saying: if the heat didn’t get you, the tourists would!

Pretty soon, I was rolling along the shoreline. Vinegar Bend was a little cul-de-sac built along the edge of the lake. This was prime real estate territory. Fishing decks and docks extended out over the shimmering water. All of the houses here were two-story flats with large front lawns and swimming pools—yes, there were swimming pools in the backyards of homes that were built along the lake. The one exception was a three-story French style house that loomed up ahead. This was the biggest house in the neighborhood.

It also happened to be where I lived.

I hurried up the cobblestone walkway that cut through the bright green grass, clutching my board in one hand. I spotted stray blades of bahia grass in the lawn. That was never a good sign. Aunt Tiana would be on my case to mow it soon.

As always, the second step from the bottom creaked. Nothing we did fixed it, including replacing all of the boards and putting in new nails. Fortunately, nobody complained. If they did, Mom and Aunt Tiana would be on my case to do something about it again.

Putting it out of my mind, I rushed to the door and turned the shiny golden handle. It opened easily, like always. Guests tended to prefer it when they could get inside the place they were staying. Cajun spices and soul food assaulted my nostrils the minute I was inside. It smelled like Aunt Tiana was in the kitchen cooking up a storm.

My stomach growled. I ate light for lunch today and now my body was punishing me for it. Sliding my Jordans off, I stashed my cash, then set the shoes aside on the shoe rack in the foyer.

“Aunt Tiana?” I called out. “I’m home!”

“In here,” she called back, speaking just as loudly as I had. “And don’t shout!”

I rolled my eyes while still in the safety of the foyer. Beyond it was the main living area of the bed and breakfast-style inn that my aunt ran. The O’Khata Lake Lodge was once the most opulent house in the whole town. It had fallen into disrepair by the time Aunt Tiana bought it. She had the whole place refurbished and converted it into an inn, hoping to capitalize on the tourism trade that kept this hick town running.

The living area looked like something off the cover of Better Homes & Gardens, designed to appeal to rich white folks from up north. There were framed photographs of popular spots around town. A couple of paintings hung here and there as well, most of them depicting the lake shoreline.

Aunt Tiana knew an artist that worked cheap and she was more than willing to exploit that.

“We got guests?” I asked, strolling through the living area to the kitchen.

Aunt Tiana looked up from where she stood behind the island in the center of the kitchen. She was chopping andouille sausage on a cutting board. Small bowls—each containing the holy trinity of green peppers, onions, and celery—sat off to the side. A larger bowl farther away contained freshly peeled shrimp.

“They’re out,” Aunt Tiana answered, sparing me a glance before going back to her cooking. “But that’s no reason to shout. How was school?”

I shrugged, eyeing the island for something to swipe. “It was school,” I answered. “Mom’s still at work. Sheena has softball practice. Is Riri home yet?”

“She’s upstairs,” Aunt Tiana replied, chopping sausage intently. “Got home before you did, as usual. What took you so long?”

I ignored my aunt’s question, flicking my eyes up at the ceiling momentarily. My younger cousin Rita—better known as Riri—knew about my “extracurricular activities.” We had an understanding with one another. She kept her mouth shut about what I did after school let out, and in return, I was her financier on the odd occasions where she needed to borrow emergency cash.

She had to pay me back, of course. I wasn’t so chickenshit that I would acquiesce to blackmail, even from family.

“The bathrooms upstairs need cleaning,” Aunt Tiana began. I was barely through the door and she was handing out a list of chores. Things never changed in this town. “You need to vacuum the carpeting on the stairs and sweep the hallways. Make sure you wipe down the mirrors too.”

I groaned, and so did my stomach. “Can’t I get something to eat first?” I pleaded. “I just got home, Aunt Tiana!”

“Oh! Well, bless your heart!” She shot me an icy glare. “You want I should have a word with your mamma when she gets in?” she warned, holding me still with her stare.

“No, ma’am!” I responded. There was no winning that argument and we both knew it. “I didn’t have much money for lunch today. My stomach’s cramping me something fierce.”

Aunt Tiana hesitated before sliding her knife right through the last sausage. I watched her set the knife down on the cutting board. One hand snatched a dishrag off the island. Aunt Tiana turned and walked over to the fridge, wiping her hands off with the rag the whole time.

A flick of her wrist sent the dishrag flying. It landed on the counter, nearly slipping into the stainless-steel sink. Aunt Tiana didn’t notice, though. She had reached into the refrigerator and was pulling a plate out. Resting on it was a cold spicy chicken sandwich with onions, garlic, and tomato. Homemade tater babies rested on the side.

I broke into a huge grin. “Thanks, Aunt Tiana,” I told her, meaning it.

“You need to get yourself a job,” she replied, placing the plate into the microwave. “Instead of relying on me to cook for you all the time.”

I laughed. “When am I supposed to do that?” I wondered. “You want me to give up cleaning toilets for free so I can feed myself?”

“That ain’t my problem,” Aunt Tiana said shortly, tapping a hand against her blue jean-clad hip while she waited for my food to heat up.

A smile tugged at one corner of my mouth. I loved the logic that my aunt lived by. She was a beautiful woman and an amazing cook. The Lodge had stayed afloat thanks to her. She gave Mom and I a place to stay after the divorce. Sure, I had to mow the lawn and clean the house from top to bottom, but there were worse deals out there.

Nevertheless, my aunt could be one of the orneriest women alive. She complained constantly about everything. Nothing I did was good enough. Odds were, she would be on my case this evening about the crappy job I did cleaning the restrooms.

To be honest, she reminded me a bit of my mom—which made sense considering they were sisters.

The microwave dinged. “Here,” Aunt Tiana barked, sliding the hot plate across the island with the help of an oven mitt. “Eat and then get to work. Cuz I ain’t got time for you to sit around all day doing nothing. Like you do at school.”

I started to pick up my sandwich. The plate was hotter than the food. Several tater babies were cold and the cheese on the sandwich wasn’t melted.

Still, I wasn’t about to spit in the eye of free food. Not when my aunt was the cook. She had the knife, after all.

“Clearly,” I said around the bite of semi-heated sandwich I was chewing. “School was different for you. Back in the Jurassic era.”

Aunt Tiana wasn’t amused. “Don’t make me paddle your behind,” she warned, pointing the knife tip at me. “I was a straight-A student and a member of the debate team.”

I swallowed, shaking my head. “And you walked twenty miles to school in blinding snow,” I picked up, doing my best imitation of her. “You been watching Fresh Prince reruns again?”

Aunt Tiana made a face. “Don’t remind me,” she snapped back. “You know, you and that little punk-ass Will Smith have a lot in common. No job, no after-school clubs, but you’re always coming home late.”

“I have a job,” I countered, taking another bite with what I felt was the proper amount of indignation.

“You ain’t got a job,” Aunt Tiana insisted flatly, slicing cleanly through the last sausage.

“I’m about to go upstairs and clean toilets,” I reminded her, getting mad.

“That ain’t no job,” she stated, setting her knife down noisily. “That’s chores.”

“You’re right,” I told my aunt as she gathered up the shrimp, chopped sausage, and holy trinity into a pan. “A job pays. So, who’s gonna clean the toilets when I’m not around, huh?”

Aunt Tiana slammed the pan down onto the stove. “You are,” she informed me, cranking the heat up all the way to high. “Getting a job don’t exempt you from making your way around here!”

I glared at her impotently for several seconds. “You’re missing Oprah,” I said, hoping to settle the argument with that.

That did the trick. Aunt Tiana scowled, but then searched frantically for the remote. There was a small Sony TV set in the corner of the kitchen. Aunt Tiana liked to watch her soaps while she cooked during the afternoon. Things slowed at the Lodge once Oprah was on at four.

“Second drawer…” I mumbled around yet another bite. It was hard not to take pity on my aunt when she couldn’t find the remote. “…from the top.”

Aunt Tiana quit scrambling and took my advice. She must’ve really been hoping for a follow-up on Erin Kramp’s cancer. I chowed on cold tater babies while Aunt Tiana fumbled with the buttons on the remote. At last, she turned on the TV.

Oprah wasn’t what came on, though.

“—and authorities are now confirming that two teenagers in the area were discovered dead this morning.”

“Wow, this interview got dark in a real hurry,” I noted. I wasn’t really looking at the set, being more interested in my aunt’s antics. As the report went on, though, I turned around. “Hold on. Say what now?”

“I’m outside the local sheriff’s department here in O’Khata Lake,” said a brunette woman with unnatural brown highlights cut into the latest “Rachel” style from Friends.

“Probably on drugs,” Aunt Tiana muttered, scowling.

“Police haven’t released the identities of either victim,” the reporter on television went on. “However, they have confirmed the claims that two young men were discovered dead this morning.”

“Just you wait,” Aunt Tiana said, glowering as she stirred the pan’s contents. “Either drugs or a car crash.”

“Their bodies were discovered on the front lawn of one teenager’s home,” the reporter explained while the scene on TV shifted to that of the local hospital. “EMTs were able to verify that both teens had been dead for several hours.”

“Drugs,” Aunt Tiana said, giving the pan a shake. “Or a suicide.”

“The coroner was able to rule out drugs or a suicide,” the reporter said. “Meaning the teens were most likely the victims of foul play.”

I almost choked on my last tater baby. “You never get tired of being wrong,” I told my aunt smugly, who was keeping her back to me now. “Do you?”

“Shut up!” was Aunt Tiana’s response.

“On assignment from WLBT,” the reporter finished with a fake grin. “This is October Skye. Back to the studio!”

I polished off the last of my sandwich while Aunt Tiana switched channels over to The Oprah Winfrey Show. “They oughta get her to solve the crime,” she said while I washed my dish in the sink. “Oprah’d get to the bottom of it in no time.”

“You’re thinking of Robert Stack,” I said as I rinsed off the plate. “From Unsolved Mysteries.”

“Shut up!” Aunt Tiana’s disdain didn’t last long in the face of her nosiness. “You know anything about that, Deekster?”

It was so embarrassing when my aunt used my real name. “Nobody’s said anything at school,” I replied, drying my hands with the same dishrag Aunt Tiana used. “Which is weird. Guess the rumor mill hasn’t gotten around to it yet.”

“Police are probably keeping it quiet,” she reasoned. “Or else somebody’d have heard something before now.”

“Maybe,” I conceded, walking away. “On that note, I have toilets to clean. Laters!”

Moving out of the kitchen, I hurried up the carpeted stairs to the second floor. From there, it was a straight shot down the hallway and then to the right. A second set of stairs wound in a spiral up to the attic.

This was where Riri and I shared a room. All of the actual bedrooms were reserved for guests. Mom and Aunt Tiana each had a divided space in the basement. The attic had been converted into a private area for my cousin and myself.

The instant I reached the top, a heavy blanket of heat settled on my shoulders. It had been hot and humid on the way home. Upstairs, however, it was sweltering. The windows had been left open and a fan was circulating air. Despite this, the room was hot as hell.

Riri was sitting on her bed when I entered. Her paints were scattered across the spread. She was holding a small paintbrush in one hand. The other was holding a single Reebok shoe, which Riri was making alterations to.

“Hey, girl!” I called out. Riri wasn’t supposed to paint on her bed and we both knew it. “Didn’t your mamma say she didn’t wanna catch you ruining another pair of shoes?”

Riri shrugged, unconcerned as always. “Too late now,” she said while painting water lilies on one side. “Who’s gonna tell her?”

“Not me,” I replied, laying my backpack at the foot of my bed. “Turn around. I gotta make a quick bank deposit.”

“Go ahead,” Riri said, giving her latest art project every last bit of her attention. “I already know it’s hidden in the bookcase behind your mom’s copy of I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings.”

Sometimes Riri was too smart for her own good. “It’d better all be there,” I said, scowling as I went over to the bookcase. “That’s all I gotta say.”

Like everything else, the bookcase was something that my cousin and I shared. The lower shelves were full of Sweet Valley High books and trashy Harlequin romance titles. Those belonged to my cousin. The upper shelves were my space. They were covered in Goosebumps books, the occasional Christopher Pike novel, and some of my favorite mysteries by Richie Tankersley Cusick.

A few books here and there were ones that Mom gave me. She was always trying to cram more culture and Black influence down my throat. I kept them because it made her happy.

They also made good place markers, like for hiding where I kept my stash of cash.

I opened the old cigar box and counted the cash inside. Once that was done, I added the day’s amount. Together, the sum was still a long way from the down payment on a car that I needed. Nevertheless, I was still further along than I had been.

“Everything okay?” Riri asked while I put the cigar box back in its place.

“All good,” I assured her.

“That’s good,” Riri said, actually looking up from the second sneaker she was modifying. “Cuz I may wanna borrow some money later.”

I snorted. “Where you gonna go?” I wondered. “You ain’t got no car either.”

Riri shrugged again. “Out,” was all she would say.

I decided that I didn’t care enough to press the issue. “Enjoy getting busted when Aunt Tiana sees you defacing those shoes,” I told her. “I got toilets to clean. Unfortunately!”

Riri didn’t look up. I left her in the attic and returned downstairs to the utility room on the first floor. This was where we kept all the cleaning supplies. I got everything I needed and headed back upstairs again, praying all the while that none of our current guests had suffered an attack of gastrointestinal distress.

It had happened before, and the results weren’t pretty.

Two hours went by before I was done. Cleaning bathrooms was a time-consuming process. It took me even longer because my glasses kept slipping off my nose.

I was scrubbing down the toilet, shoving the bristle brush into the hole as far as it would go, when something caught my eye. This particular bathroom faced the lake and had a big window looking out over the water. I suppose it was a nice enough view, even if our guests were enjoying it while having a bowel movement.

Someone was out on the dock. They were standing with their back to me. Curious, I set the brush aside and pulled back the sheer curtain that partially covered the glass. With it out of the way, I could see the figure better.

It wasn’t anybody that I recognized. I reckoned that this was one of our new mysterious guests, though. The docks in front of the Lodge were part of our property. All of the neighbors knew better than to use them without asking for permission first—at least, they did now.

This guest had a rich brown tint to his skin. Long hair hung down past his shoulders, swaying lightly in the soft breeze outside. Stubble clung to the lower half of his jaw.

As I watched, he undid the buttons on his blue Old Navy shirt. He tossed the designer clothing aside onto the mossy planks beside his shoes. A black tank top lay underneath. It too was discarded, leaving him bare from the waist up.

I heard myself gasp. His muscles were so defined that I could make them out even at this distance. The stranger swung his arms back and forth, limbering them up. I could see veins racing underneath the surface of his skin. His shoulders were wide and just as defined.

When he turned slightly, my breath caught in my throat. A light down of dark hair covered what looked like an eight-pack. He quickly shucked his pants. My heart skipped a beat. For an instant, I thought that he was stripping naked. My skin burned and something down below sprang to life.

Sadly, it was not to be. He had on a pair of red swimming trunks underneath. I cursed, but kept watching as the stranger dove down through the lake’s surface. Admittedly, he used a very good form but I was disappointed. I’d have preferred it if he stayed on the docks and took the trunks off.

I waited for him to return, holding my breath and counting the seconds that went by before he surfaced. A knock at the door startled me. I was so surprised that I knocked the brush off the top of the toilet tank where I had left it. It landed handle-first in the bowl, making a splash.

Good thing I had already cleaned up in here.

“Just a minute!” I called out politely, thinking it must be another guest. “The restroom down the hall has just been cleaned, if it’s an emergency.”

“It’s me,” Aunt Tiana called out from the other side of the door. “What are you doing in there?”

“Holding my sausage hostage,” I answered promptly, figuring it was what she deserved for asking such a dumb thing in the first place.

Aunt Tiana didn’t see the humor. “What?” she exclaimed.

Sighing, I unlocked the door and nudged it open. “I’m cleaning the restrooms like you asked,” I said impatiently. “What is it?”

Aunt Tiana was holding the receiver to the cordless phone downstairs and wearing a look of extreme disapproval. “Here,” she stated, passing the phone through the cracked door to me. “It’s for you. Don’t take too long.”

“Oh…” I stared at the receiver for a second. “Okay!” Holding it up to my ear, I started to speak. “Hel—?”

“Deeks!” Sheena said on the other end, cutting me off. “Have you seen the news yet?”

“What?” I asked. Occasionally, it took a moment for me to jump on board her train of thought. “Girl, why you buggi—Oh! You mean about the two dead bodies?”

“That,” she confirmed. “It’s a pretty good bet that they both go to our school. Maybe even a classmate! Who was absent today?”

I had to think about that for a second. “Mmm, no one that I know of,” I said, trying to remember if any familiar faces were missing. “It could be one of the seniors, you know.”

“True.” Sheena sounded disappointed. “I was really hoping someone from the junior class had bit the dust.”

“Hey!” I said indignantly.

“Present company excluded,” she added, sounding annoyed that I was offended.

“I guess we’ll find out tomorrow,” I offered, glancing around at the mostly clean bathroom while wondering if I could get away with leaving the rest for tomorrow. There was still all of my homework to do. “Assuming the cops release that information.”

“Or,” Sheena offered slyly, “we could find out right now.”

“Say what?”

“That’s why I called you,” she went on, lowering her voice a little. “Deeks, how would you like to see two corpses? That belonged to people we went to school with?”

Author’s Notes:

Author’s Notes:

Hey, boys! Last year, Daddy got a YA book published. Unfortunately, it did not sell well. I was going to post it here, but it appears that isn’t viable because of some copyright issues involving Amazon. However, I have spoken with my publisher and they have agreed to send me a code that can be used to buy the book on Smashwords at a discount. I can also give you all a sneak preview of the book by posting the first few chapters here.

Be good boys and help support Daddy by checking it out!

Code: UW3EP

Bloody Mary’