It really is past time to wrap up this chapter, so I’m going to do the best I can with the whole cliffhanger thing, and I hope you’ll stick with me.
“Do you have to go to the bathroom?” I asked Kelley.
CHAPTER 14
“No,” Kelley replied.
“Okay,” I said.
I noticed that Kelley was holding the doll. The doll! She had it! Right there! In her hand! Holding it! Yes!
“You’ve got the doll,” I told her.
“I know.”
“You’re the best girlfriend ever.”
“I know.”
“Will you marry me?” I asked.
“Not right now.”
There was a cab parked at the end of the block. The same cab as before? As we got closer, I could see the driver, and, yes! It was! The same cab! Right there! Waiting for us! Saved! Saved! Saved!
Adam was seated in the front. He kind of looked permanently traumatized, but I couldn’t see well enough to be sure.
Kelley and I got into the backseat. I hoped the cabdriver didn’t try to add a surcharge for bloodstains.
The driver turned around. He looked exhausted. “Got any Red Bull?” he asked.
“Not on me.”
“Bummer.” He looked sad.
The cab pulled away from the curb. My vision was finally clear, and my brain was less foggy, and it seemed like the right time to ask millions of questions.
“What happened?” I asked.
“I got the doll back,” Kelley said.
“Thank you. How’d you do it?”
“I asked nicely.”
“No, really, how’d you do it?”
“I screamed and climbed over the fence. Then I told him that since his junkyard was connected by a secret passageway to a chop shop, he probably didn’t want me to have to call the police.” “Good thinking.”
“It didn’t work. But I told him that there were a bunch of shot-up, dead criminals in the chop shop and somebody might think he was involved. That worked.”
“Then you carried me over the fence?”
“Do you think I carried you over the fence?”
“I guess not.”
“He opened the gate and let us out.”
“That was nice of him.”
“He wasn’t that nice about it.”
I leaned forward. “Hey, Adam, how are you holding up?” “I’m not. Please don’t ask anymore.”
“So where are we headed?”
“While you were off getting mutilated, I was able to make some calls,” Kelley said.
“With my phone,” said the cabdriver, apparently wanting to make sure he got credit for his role in solving our problems, if I were to ever write a book about them.
“The lady at Esmeralda’s House of Jewelry said that she’d be happy to take a look at the doll and that she’d stay open late for us.” “Sweet!”
“I called your mom and assured her again that you weren’t dead.” “Thank you.”
“She sounded mad.”
“I’m sure she is.”
“And that’s without me telling her about the car. You get to do that.”
“Joy.”
I wondered how much trouble I’d be in, if any. If this situation were an algebra equation, variable A would be the dismantling of my mom’s car. Variable B = Disobeying her by not coming home when told to do so. Variable C = Letting too much time pass between reassurances that I wasn’t dead. However, variable D = Gory foot injury, which would gain me sympathy points. Variable E = Relief that I wasn’t dead. Variable F = Carjacking victim. I wasn’t driving where I was supposed to, but the actual theft of the car wasn’t my fault. Variable G = Car was not actually damaged, just taken apart. Maybe there was some blood on the paint, but when she got the car back, it would still be in perfectly decent shape.
Actually, the car might have taken a bullet hit or two. Variable G probably had to be removed from the equation if I wanted to be mathematically accurate.
In terms of getting in trouble, SUM (A + B + C) < SUM (D + E + F), so I’d be fine.
If you really stopped to analyze things and ignored elements like Ribeye still being alive and possibly vengeful, and lots of questions I’d have to answer from the police, and no guarantee that the doll could be stripped of its power, and possible infection that could cause me to lose my entire leg, and terrifying nightmares for the rest of my natural life, and unresolved guilt about the death of Mr. Click, and the possibility that our replacement history teacher could be even meaner.. .things were delightful.
I noticed that the cab’s fare meter was getting close to triple digits. None of us had credit cards, and I didn’t think we had a hundred dollars between us. That didn’t even count a tip. I was pretty sure this guy would want a tip.
“Well,” I said, trying to think of something to say that would lighten the mood, “we’ve sure had an.. .ummm.. .wacky night.” Kelley glared at me. “Wacky?”
“Parts of it were wacky.” I forced a smile.
“Don’t try to lighten the mood.”
“Sorry.”
“Sometimes it’s okay for the mood to be grim.”
“Gotcha.”
A tear trickled down Kelley’s cheek. She wiped it away.
“Do you want to know what happened to my foot?” I asked. “You told me.”
“When?”
“After we walked through the gate.”
“Oh. What did I say?”
“You said the carjackers used the pin on the doll.”
“Yep. My toes flew right off.” I swooped my hand in the air to demonstrate how they’d flown off. I wasn’t doing so well with the advice about it being okay to be grim. I guess I’ve just never been particularly mopey.
“Are you sure they didn’t do it with.. .I don’t know, pliers or something?” It was kind of cute how Kelley was clinging to that last shred of nonbelief in the supernatural.
“No. It was the doll. Do you think you could love somebody with only eight toes?”
She gave me a really funny look, and that’s when I realized that we had never said “I love you.”
Was now the time? Weren’t people supposed to express their true love at stressful moments when one of them was injured? What if the doll got poked again and my head flew off without me ever getting to tell Kelley how I truly felt?
Maybe this wasn’t a good moment. Maybe this was the worst possible moment. Maybe only a rock-stupid, nose-picking, drooling, “Duuuuhhhh!”-taying imbecile could think this was an appropriate moment for matters of romance.
I wished my life came with a musical soundtrack to help me figure out how to behave. Maybe the hit single “Love Theme from A Bad Day for Voodoo” was playing right now. What if with a single kiss the entire world and its problems could disappear, if only for a moment?
Well, okay, the entire world had sort of vanished during my dizzy spells, and it wasn’t such a great feeling. But this would be different.
It’s a bad day (bad day) for voodoo.
Girl, you know I’m right.
A bad day (bad day) for voodoo.
Even though I guess it’s night.
I’ve gotta go for a kiss.
Somethin’ I just can’t miss.
’Cause we could be in bliss.
So girl please don’t diss.
And I hope you don’t hiss.
A bad day (bad day) for voodoo.
A bad daaaaaaayyyyyyyy for
voo-hoo-hoo-hoo-doooo-ee-oo.
I started to lean in for a kiss.
Horror movie music began to play on my soundtrack.
I realized that this was not going to be one of those cinema moments where the hero and heroine suddenly start passionately kissing. I quickly reversed gears before Kelley noticed my bad timing.
“I’m sorry about your foot,” said Adam. “I never meant for anything like that to happen.”