Fort (14 page)

J.R. and Morrie were so close by then we could hear them panting. Augie and I stayed behind our trees, out of reach of their flashlight beams, waiting, waiting, waiting for the perfect moment …

Then, as spookily as I could, I called,
“Hoo-hoo-hoo. Hoo-hoo!”

J.R.'s and Morrie's footsteps came to a halt.

“What the heck was that?

“Hoo-hoo-hoo. Hoo-hoo.”

Quickly, J.R. and Morrie pointed their flashlights around in all directions.

“Up there!”

“What
is
that?”

Both flashlight beams now shone directly up into the tree branches over Augie's head.

Now!
I sent a silent message to Augie.

And as if he'd heard me, there was a sudden—

Whoooosh!

Herkimer's large feathered body came swooping down from the tree, right past J.R.'s and Morrie's faces.

A shrill shriek of terror filled the night.

We could see everything in the glow cast by the two flashlight beams, even though one had now fallen to the ground.

Then Herkimer came swinging back.

I didn't know if Augie was adjusting the fishing line we'd attached to Herkimer's body or if it just worked out that way, but when the owl swung back the third time, his claws tangled in J.R.'s hair.

J.R. screamed and batted the body away, only to have it swing back toward him again.

“Help! Get it off me!”

Aaah. Music to my ears.

J.R. was freaking out, swatting wildly at the owl's swinging body, yelling,
“Get off me!”

I thought I heard a burst of laughter from Gerard, and I couldn't blame him. It didn't matter, what with all the other noise and confusion.

J.R. was crawling on the ground, desperate to get away from his attacker. Morrie was focusing his light on Herkimer, who was now swinging in smaller and smaller arcs. I saw some loose feathers drifting through the air.

Morrie stood still, looking scared and nervous as he watched Herkimer slowly swing to a stop. Then he walked closer and reached out tentatively, as if he was afraid whatever it was might move again. At that moment, it
did
, as Augie released his end of the fishing line and Herkimer's body fell to the ground at Morrie's feet. He stepped back with a cry of surprise, then bent down and picked it up.

“What
is
it?” croaked J.R.

“Some kind of bird,” Morrie answered. Sounding uneasy, he added, “With no head.”

Before he could notice the fishing line attached to Herkimer's body, I loosened the end of another line that led to a screw eye high up on the trunk of my tree, and slowly let out several feet. I could feel the answering pressure as Augie, from his position in the tree across from me, took up the slack.

J.R. and Morrie stood frozen in place, staring in mute terror, looking as if they couldn't believe what they were seeing—or didn't want to.

From high in my tree, an eerie apparition floated sideways and downward, right past J.R.'s and Morrie's faces. It was Herkimer's head, with his yellow glass eyes staring and his beak open as if he was about to attack. From behind his tufted ears billowed a scrap we had torn from Aunt Hilda's nightgown. It was so thin and gauzy it seemed to be there one minute and gone the next. The effect was even creepier than Augie and I had hoped.

I pulled on the line again, and the head glided back in my direction. Then it was Augie's turn. The head swayed gently and started back toward him. The rubber band that connected it to the fishing line caused it to bob in a weirdly convincing and lifelike way.

I reached for my phone, touched the camera icon, and called, “Say cheese!” My camera's flash lit up the darkness. Quickly, I checked the image.
Yes!
I had captured Morrie's eyes bulging in panic and J.R.'s mouth hanging slack with fear. But—even better—the picture showed:

Their ripped shirts and the stained and shredded knees of their pants.

The dirt and leaves and pine needles stuck in the honey that dripped from Morrie's face and hair and clothing.

The scraps of rotten lettuce, moldy cheese, and unrecognizable goo that decorated J.R.'s shoulders.

And the piece of greasy chicken skin dangling from his ear.

“Gotcha!” I said. “It's a lovely photo of you both!”

I only wished that phone technology had advanced so I could have captured the smells, too. The odors of Floral Fantasy (from Morrie's direction) and putrefied garbage (from J.R.'s) floated around them in a cloud so thick you could almost see it.

I also wished I could see Augie's face and Gerard's right at that minute. Operation Doom had gone off with military precision! Everything had worked like a charm! We had done it!

And we had the picture to prove it.

Now was the moment when J.R. and Morrie would flee in shame and terror, desperate to escape from their tormenters—which, this time, was
us
! Now they would run, wanting only to get out of these woods and never come back! Now they would make their mad dash to safety, and they would never bother Augie or me or Gerard again. Not as long as we had that photo.

I savored the moment, watching and waiting.

J.R. turned to Morrie. They exchanged a long look.

Ha! Just as we thought! They were agreeing: it was time to get the heck out of Dodge.

“Bye-bye, boys!” I called gleefully.

But—I couldn't believe it! Instead of leaving, they charged!

Morrie grabbed Augie. J.R. grabbed me.

And they began beating the snot out of us.

 

19

Things happened awfully fast after that. J.R. had knocked me down and was on top of me. His hands, sticky with garbage, were rummaging through my pockets.

“Gimme that phone,” he grunted.

Now, you might imagine that at this point I'd be thinking of ways to save my skin. But that weird part of my brain that comes up with crazy stuff at the worst possible times was wondering how come I got stuck with J.R., who smelled even worse than he looked, while Augie got Morrie, who was drenched in Floral Fantasy. If I was going to die, I wondered, why couldn't my last vision be of Aunt Hilda? Why couldn't the sweet scent of her perfume fill my dying nostrils, instead of the stench of a Dumpster?

But then I heard gasping and struggling nearby, and Morrie's voice saying, “Prepare to die, Lame-o.” And I knew Augie was having problems of his own.

“Gimme the phone,” J.R. demanded again.

“No way,” I said between clenched teeth, surprising myself with my bravery in the face of imminent death. That phone was our only hope of getting out of this, and I wasn't going to just hand it over.

While he tried to get at the pants pocket where I'd jammed the cell phone for safekeeping, I fought to get free of him. He smelled so bad, I had to concentrate on not breathing through my nose, for fear I'd throw up. Throwing up might have been a useful tactic, actually, but I never had to test it out.

Because suddenly a terrifying roar burst through the night.

I thought of Al, warning us that sometimes at night bloodcurdling screams came from the woods, sounding like somebody getting their heart ripped out by a wild animal while they were still alive. Is that what we were hearing?

I froze. J.R. froze in his position on top of me. The sounds of battle coming from Morrie and Augie went silent.

Then, breaking the utter stillness and quiet, a voice bellowed:

“Be on your guard!”

It
was
Gerard! On Al's bullhorn! No wonder his voice sounded so loud—and so weird and robot-like. He'd started reciting the words to the song I'd made up that afternoon. There was a long pause. Oh, no. Had he forgotten the rest?

Come on, Gerard,
I urged him silently.
I heard you saying the words over and over. Keep going!

“'Cause I am Gerard!”

Another pause.
Come on, Gerard!

“I know the liars

Who like to set fires.”

From above me, I heard J.R. gasp.

“I kept my mouth shut

Up until now, but—”

Long pause.

J.R.'s breathing got faster.

“Be on your guard—

'Cause I AM GERARD!”

There was complete silence for a few seconds. Then I could feel the air go out of J.R., like he was a big stinky balloon deflating on top of me. I wriggled out from under him, and he stood up, kind of shakily.

Morrie let go of Augie and got up, very slowly and carefully, keeping a wary eye on Augie the whole time. I guess he wanted to make sure Augie wasn't going to retaliate by punching his lights out.

I have to admit, it
was
tempting. But Augie and I both stood by our no damage policy, which I would just like to point out shows a lot of self-control on our parts.

Morrie stood. He was panting. There was a confused look on his face, which matched J.R.'s dazed expression.

If I had drawn a thought bubble over Morrie's head right then, it would have said:
Uhhhh, what the heck just happened?

One over J.R.'s head would have read:
Uhhhh, what do we do now?

It was pretty funny, but I figured laughing might not be the best move, no matter how unthreatening J.R. and Morrie looked at that moment.

I glanced anxiously at Augie, who was on his feet by then. He didn't look too bad. His shirt was ripped and his cheek looked a little red, but there was no blood. He gave me a quick grin. No missing teeth. I felt better.

At that moment, Gerard's voice blared out, singing his song all over again, faster this time.

“Be on your guard,

'Cause I am Gerard.

I know the liars

Who like to set fires.

I kept my mouth shut

Up until now, but—

Be on your guard,

'Cause I AM GERARD!”

That last
Gerard!
was super loud. I couldn't help smiling. When Gerard got something in his head, he sure liked to stick with it, which could sometimes drive you nuts. But in this case, it was perfect. When he said the part about the fires, I watched the same expression appear on both J.R.'s and Morrie's faces. It was the look of a cornered rat.

Gerard's voice had sounded closer and closer. Now that the song was finished, he emerged suddenly from the darkness. He'd always been big. But right then he looked
enormous
, towering over us in that clearing in the woods. And, well,
scary
. He was holding his flashlight under his chin so that it cast ghoulish shadows across his big white face.

He looked unfamiliar.

He looked
fierce
.

“Gerard?” I said, before I could stop myself.

He smiled, but that only made him look even creepier.

I noted with interest that J.R. and Morrie were staring at him with something like horror.

I caught Augie's eye, then started talking, hoping he'd help out if I got stuck on what to say.

“So, gentlemen,” I said. I sounded a lot more sure of myself than I actually was. I don't even think my voice was shaking, which it totally was, inside. “Here's the situation. Our friend Gerard told us the whole story about seeing you guys set fire to Al's shed. And about how you scared him into keeping quiet.”

An idea crossed my mind right then, and I plunged ahead, making it up as I went along. “Then you two spread the rumor that Gerard was the one who did it, trying to make sure no one would believe him, even if he did talk.”

J.R. and Morrie exchanged a furtive glance. Bingo! I had been right.

Augie flashed me a thumbs-up sign.

I was on a roll! “So here's what's going to happen. You're not ever going to mess with Gerard or us again. Because if you do, Gerard talks. And I guarantee, people will believe him.”

Augie jumped in. “You know Coach's code of conduct. When he finds out about what you did, you'll be off the football team so fast you won't know what happened.”

My turn to give him a thumbs-up.

“But first,” he added, “the other guys on the team might be interested in seeing that picture Wyatt took tonight. How did it come out, Wyatt?”

“Oh, it's just
perfect
,” I said, waving the phone in the air. To J.R. and Morrie I added, “Just take a look at each other if you want the general idea. Only your faces look like
this
.” I opened my eyes and mouth in my best imitation of a victim in a horror movie.

Morrie made a sudden lunge at me, in an attempt to grab the phone. But Gerard, who had been standing by, shining his flashlight on J.R. and Morrie, roared through the bullhorn,
“Stop right there,
stronzo
!”

Morrie did. He looked puzzled. “What'd he call me?”

“You don't want to know,” I said.

J.R. had just about jumped out of his skin at Gerard's sudden shout. Now he stood, shaking, his eyes bugging out. So quietly we could barely hear him, he said, “I'm outta here. You coming, Morrie?”

Morrie took one long look around, like he was trying to think of something that would give him the final advantage. But he had nothing, and he must have known it.

Gerard, Augie, and I watched them disappear into the darkness. They went a lot more slowly than they had come, picking their way very carefully and flashing their lights ahead and up into every tree.

We did a three-way high five before busting into uncontrollable laughter. I don't know about Augie and Gerard, but I didn't realize how nervous and scared I'd been until it was over. I was relieved and kind of stunned that we had actually pulled it off, and all I could do was laugh. Gerard and Augie, too. Every time one of us thought we had it together, somebody else would say or do something to start us going again.