Wheels (6 page)

Pink? Hayes’ favorite color is pink?

Sad?
Hayes was sad. At least, some particles of him were sad. It wasn’t a thought; not like the color pink or the image of McKenzie.

The incorrect image of McKenzie
!

No. More of an ache. An old ache.

What am I seeing?

Someone was crying. McKenzie could almost feel the tears. Whoever it was, was looking up, arms held wide, extended towards two people, a light-skinned man and a darker-skinned woman. They looked angry, maybe a little sad. Especially the woman. Sad and lost, thought McKenzie. Then a voice from behind the boy shouted, “Leave! Take your drugs and guns and get out of my house.”

“He’s my boy,” said the woman, but without much conviction. She held out her hand.

McKenzie felt the boy—Hayes, only younger—reach back. Then, there was a sharp tug around his waist, pulling him away. “He don’t need parents like you. Go, before I call the cops.”

So, Hayes’ parents didn’t die. They abandoned him.

The moment McKenzie thought this, the images disappeared, as if Hayes had snatched them back and hidden them away.

Guilt?

An overwhelming rush of guilt washed over McKenzie, only it didn’t belong to her.
Hayes feels guilty because…?
McKenzie began surfing the particle stream.
Because his mother left? But why? You were just a kid.

So were you.

Whoa, that last thought had not been hers. Hayes was reading her mind! Fragments of McKenzie flew in all directions, dodging Hayes, dodging stars. “Stay out of my memories,” she screamed.

Or, at least she tried to scream. Without a mouth, it was more like a telepathic blast.

What if Hayes had seen her nightmare? Oh, no. NO! Worse—much worse! What if he knew how she felt? What if he thought she
—
! Somewhere, in the confusion of particles, pieces of McKenzie were turning red—flashing siren, emergency red! “I don’t like you,” she thought-screamed. “I mean, I do like you—but not like that!”

Is this what it’s like to be dead?

Hayes again. McKenzie was sure of it, but she had no answer for him. Dead? This didn’t feel like death. It felt more like being recycled. They were alive, but in what form?

Suddenly, the pounding, pulsing reverberation McKenzie had heard back in Principal Provost’s office returned. One, one thousand; two, one thousand; three, one thousand…McKenzie began counting the pulses, surrendering to the rhythm of the stream. Six, one thousand; seven, one thousand; eight, one thousand…

My heart! McKenzie’s heart was beating along with the pulse of the stream. We’re not dead. “Whatever this is, it isn’t death!” she screamed, with every particle of her being.

Twenty, twenty-one, twenty-two… Her heart was beating faster, and all at once, she sensed a change.

Hayes was gone.

Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty…fragments of McKenzie began slipping out of the stream, flowing like quicksand through an infinitely small hole in the universe.
Follow
, she thought.
Follow. Don’t get left behind.

The stream began to slow, lingering, drawn-out, moving ever more slowly until there seemed to be no passage of time at all. Minutes, maybe even hours passed between heartbeats. McKenzie forgot about the particle stream, about Hayes, about everything…and for one brief moment, existed. Simply existed.

The moment became a picture, only not static and one-dimensional, but an entire moment captured with all other dimensions and feelings intact. It was as if she were in two places at once. There was the McKenzie viewing the moment and the McKenzie living it. Moreover, both McKenzies became aware that there was someone else present, only it wasn’t Hayes—and it wasn’t human!

The presence began to take shape, a golden, willowy, human-like shape.

A shape for our benefit, thought the two McKenzies. More powerful than anything they had ever experienced. Yet, they sensed something else; the being was nervous.

A god wouldn’t be nervous. Why is it nervous?

Both McKenzies reached out. It was like touching something solid, but not solid, as if the presence had put the image of solid into their minds.

The presence began to shimmer. Thoughts formed.
Coming. Not here yet. Searching.

And, suddenly, both McKenzies understood. Another presence, like the first, was on its way. The first presence began to fade.

It’s afraid?

The McKenzie captured in the present moment reached out. “Help me to understand you.” The figure shimmered, then taking its two willowy limbs, it placed them upon her head. Both McKenzies shut their eyes and allowed the pulse of the particle stream to flow back in joining them as one into real time.

Right before she slipped away, McKenzie thought she heard the presence whisper, “Help them!”

Then McKenzie was back in the stream, frantically trying to follow Hayes through an infinitely small hole. Memories of the passing moment replaced by the needs of the present.

The pulses slowed. Shadows danced in front of McKenzie’s eyes, and it dawned on her that if she could see, she must have eyes.
And, if I can see—

This thought was interrupted by a cough. McKenzie was suffocating.
How do I breathe?
Breathe? How do I breathe?
Panic overwhelmed her. McKenzie screamed, bringing air into her oxygen deprived lungs and—

SLAP! “Get a hold of yourself, Mac.”

Hayes was in front of her. Not just particles of Hayes, but all of him. As far as she could tell, he was perfectly reassembled into his old, Rudy Hayes self…although he didn’t look quite as cocky. Hayes’ eyes grew wide and McKenzie could almost see the blood drain from his face. He pointed at something, his head did a funny little twitch and he turned, blocking McKenzie’s view.

McKenzie studied her hands. “I’m solid!” She was relieved to find her legs, her chair, and even her chewed up pencils, rearranged properly back in place.

Wherever they were, it was cold, dark, and clammy. McKenzie was sure she could hear the sound of waves crashing against something solid. She shivered, not because she was cold—because she was scared. Avondale was located in a valley, surrounded by mountains and desert. There were springs, a few small lakes, but not an ocean in sight.

Think, McKenzie, think!

Mountains had caves, caves had water and—this felt like a cave. At least, how she imagined a cave would feel like. Taking a deep breath, she inhaled a thick, sweet scent, more fruity than fishy. It made her gag and feel slightly nauseous. Where could they be?

Hayes was standing so close to her that, if he took a step back, he’d be on her lap. Under normal circumstances, McKenzie would have shoved him aside. These, however, were not normal circumstances. Since she couldn’t see in front of her, McKenzie slowly, very slowly, looked behind her—an action she instantly regretted.

There loomed a wide, gaping black tunnel. Strange shapes, some of them massive, jutted out top and bottom like jagged teeth waiting for their prey. Visions of bats and bears, lions or worse, sent fear coursing through her body. McKenzie turned, and without a second thought, shoved Hayes.

Hayes jerked forwards and then instantly backwards, drawn like a magnet to McKenzie’s wheelchair.

“HAYES!” she screamed.

“HAYES, Hayes, Hayes…” the cave echoed.

McKenzie shut her eyes and willed herself to stop shivering. Then, once again, she shoved. This time Hayes landed forward and slightly to her left, and McKenzie could see in front of her.

 They’d landed on a smooth, semi-circular portion of the cave. Almost man-made in appearance, it bumped up against a small pool of water trickling under an oddly shaped opening. What light there was came from the opening; the rest of the cave revealed an assortment of stalagmites and stalactites. Some were so thick and long they stood like pillars supporting the cave’s roof. Most, though, were little more than growths, ugly pointed warts sprouting from the cave’s surface.

“Ah!” It was a short, high-pitched eruption and sounded more alien than anything McKenzie had encountered so far. It was Hayes…so afraid he wasn’t even worried about sounding cool. Arms plastered against his sides, fingers spread wide, he was fixated upon something near his feet.

Carefully, slowly, trying not to make any noise, McKenzie backed up to get a better view. A little white ball of fluff, sniffing and grunting, wiggled its way between Hayes’ legs.

A puppy!

Hayes picked up his right leg and stepped aside. The puppy darted closer to McKenzie and yipped.

“Rudy Hayes, I am never going to let you live this down. It’s a fluffing puppy!” McKenzie laughed. If a puppy were here, civilization couldn’t be far away.

The puppy stopped sniffing, cocked his head and sneezed. McKenzie leaned over to pet it, but it turned around and—

Holy Snaps!

McKenzie shook her head.

Holy, Super Snaps!

Her mind struggled to grasp what her eyes had seen. The creature had two front paws, like any normal puppy, but instead of hind legs, it had a round, wheel-like appendage. Like a soccer ball. The puppy had rolled. He’d rolled away! What’s more, he was fast—and now, completely out of sight.

Hayes’ face looked pasty, his eyes glazed and confused, and without changing expression, he began nodding, indicating somewhere just to the right of the pool.

A dizzy, twirly, tornado-e-type feeling formed in McKenzie’s stomach; with each passing second, it picked up speed. Either she was going to pass-out or throw-up, but more than anything in the world, she did not want to look where Hayes was nodding. If this wasn’t a dream, the puppy, or whatever it was, could mean only one thing.

McKenzie took a deep breath and forced herself to look at Hayes. She didn’t know how, but their presence here was her fault. Then, in one brief, awful moment, she also realized all the books she’d read—all the ones that told of great adventures and how much fun they were—had lied. This wasn’t fun. She wanted to go home. There must be a way, but she had no idea how. Certainly, not the way they’d arrived. So, McKenzie did the only thing she could think of, she closed her eyes and tried to think of basketball.

There’s no place like home court.

She couldn’t click her heels together.

There’s no place like home court.

But she could twirl a piece of her hair.
There’s no place like home court
. McKenzie opened her eyes. The curl unwound from around her finger. Dad, Grandma Mir, her mother’s grave, they were all very, very far away.

Chapter 8

FBI TRANSCRIPT 21212

Agent Wink Krumm and Stephanie Chantos
Wednesday, April 15th

KRUMM
: Describe your relationship with Principal Provost.

CHANTOS
: Who told you—

KRUMM
: That you work for him?

CHANTOS
: Oh. Yes! Yes, of course. I work for Principal Provost. I’m his executive assistant.

KRUMM
: And before that, Principal Shepherd’s.

CHANTOS
: Yes. I had a
work
relationship with Principal Shepherd as well. Just like Principal Provost. That’s correct.

KRUMM
: So you were here when Principal Provost arrived. How would you describe his arrival in Avondale?

CHANTOS
: I’m not sure what you mean.

KRUMM
: Was it, let us say…
propitious?

CHANTOS
: Lucky?

KRUMM
: Exactly. Lucky, that he arrived in Avondale on the very day the old school building collapsed.

CHANTOS
: I don’t know that he arrived on the ‘very’ day.

KRUMM
: But then you can’t be sure.

CHANTOS
: Well…come to think of it, I guess not.

KRUMM
: Strange, not one resident in the entire community can remember this event.

CHANTOS
: The day Principal Provost arrived?

KRUMM
: The SCHOOL, Miss Chantos. The day the school building collapsed.

CHANTOS
: I remember. It was…Well, I know it was around—

KRUMM
: Ten full days unaccounted for and not one person witnessed the school building’s collapse.

CHANTOS
: I suppose that is a little odd.

KRUMM
: “A little odd” too, that during the same mysterious 10-day period the head principal resigned, and B.R. Provost arrived in Avondale?

CHANTOS
: Believe me, Harold Shepherd was long overdue for retirement. And Principal Provost arriving when he did, well…I wouldn’t call that odd.

KRUMM
: What would you call it, Miss Chantos?

CHANTOS
: Propitious, Agent Krumm. Definitely, propitious!

***

VANISHED

Monday, March 16th
Earth

P
rincipal Provost stared, as if doing so would cause the box and the girl to reappear. “Impossible…impossible.” The girl had activated the portal. “IMPOSSIBLE!”

He moved to where he sensed the
pinicolis
had last been situated. It was warm. Too warm. “Concentric, help me,” he groaned. Never in all one hundred and ninety-nine loonocks of his life had any task gone so wrong. Then, an even more frightening thought occurred to him;
Rudy Hayes.
Had he been in the office, too? He turned around and rolled into the front office. “Buzz Nurse Prickel, would you?”

Miss Chantos looked up from her work. She smiled.

“My phone seems to be out-of-order,” he muttered. Stephanie’s smile, as always, made him forget for a moment what he needed to say.