going to work.”
She laughed. Threw back her head and laughed.
Maybe it was working.
“You’re funny.”
“Yeah, people tell me that. I don’t really get it.”
“And you’re older than seventeen. Inside.”
She was right.
He’d done something most adults had never done. Something that was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.
She hadn’t asked him about that. Maybe she didn’t know. That was nice. To be around somebody who didn’t know.
“I have to work at the museum. After that I have to go home.”
“Okay.” She got to her feet. “I’m not trying to corrupt you or anything. Thanks for the interview. If you change your mind about karaoke, let me know.”
After she left, Graham headed to the museum, where he put in a four-hour shift. He didn’t want to go into the mummy room, but that was his station.
The numbers weren’t as bad as they’d been on opening day, but the building was still uncomfortably crowded. After Graham got over his initial nervousness, he tested his reflection theory, standing in different locations and watching as people entered the museum, but he couldn’t re-create the effect from the video.
When his shift was over, he drove to his grandfather’s house and parked in front of the sidewalk.
He used speed dial to call Evan. No answer. Graham left a voice mail. “I’m probably going to stay in Tuonela tonight with Alastair. If that’s not okay, let me know and I’ll come home.” He disconnected, grabbed his backpack, and got out of the car.
The house was located on Benefit Street in the very spot where a sharp valley gave way to flatland. Just months ago Graham’s mother had dropped him off there.
Months . . . It seemed like years. Now she was dead. How many people were gone? Four?
The house was old—dark beams and stucco, with a huge front porch and woodland on three sides.
It took a while for his grandfather to answer his knock.
Even though his hair was white, Alastair Stroud probably wasn’t all that old. He was kind of wiry and still kinda tan from time spent on golf courses in Florida. He wore a lot of crisp plaid shirts and always smelled faintly of aftershave. Right now he smelled like alcohol, and it took only a few seconds for Graham to realize his grandfather was wasted.
Nice.
Did any of the adults in his family act like adults? That was what he wanted to know. And his grandfather was a cop. But he guessed cops got drunk just like anybody else when they weren’t on duty. Weird to think about.
Alastair tried like hell to appear sober, but he was too far gone. He blinked and dropped awkwardly into an overstuffed chair. “Have a seat.” He waved a drunken hand.
Graham hovered near the doorway. “I don’t know. I think maybe I’ll just go.”
“No, stay! Stay!”
So much for spending the night. No way was he doing that now.
“I was just getting ready to pop a frozen pizza in the oven.”
Graham dropped his backpack on the floor and walked across the living room to the adjoining kitchen. Every single cupboard door was open. The floor and counters were strewn with dishes and crap that had been pulled out. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for something.” Alastair jumped to his feet. “You haven’t seen a small tin tea canister, have you? About this size?” He made a shape with his hands.
“Silver?”
“Yes!”
“I think I saw it with some of my dad’s stuff. At the other place.”
His grandfather crossed the room and grabbed him by both shoulders. “If you see it again, stay away from it.” He gave him a small shake. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy. “Understand? Stay away from it.”
“Okay, you know what?” Graham bent his knees and slipped from his grasp. “I can’t do this.” He walked to the door and picked up his backpack. “Go to bed. Go to bed and sleep it off.”
“If you see it, call me. If you see the tin.”
“I’ll do that.”
He left.
Out the door and back in the car.
He made a
She laughed. Threw back her head and laughed.
Maybe it was working.
“You’re funny.”
“Yeah, people tell me that. I don’t really get it.”
“And you’re older than seventeen. Inside.”
She was right.
He’d done something most adults had never done. Something that was going to haunt him for the rest of his life.
She hadn’t asked him about that. Maybe she didn’t know. That was nice. To be around somebody who didn’t know.
“I have to work at the museum. After that I have to go home.”
“Okay.” She got to her feet. “I’m not trying to corrupt you or anything. Thanks for the interview. If you change your mind about karaoke, let me know.”
After she left, Graham headed to the museum, where he put in a four-hour shift. He didn’t want to go into the mummy room, but that was his station.
The numbers weren’t as bad as they’d been on opening day, but the building was still uncomfortably crowded. After Graham got over his initial nervousness, he tested his reflection theory, standing in different locations and watching as people entered the museum, but he couldn’t re-create the effect from the video.
When his shift was over, he drove to his grandfather’s house and parked in front of the sidewalk.
He used speed dial to call Evan. No answer. Graham left a voice mail. “I’m probably going to stay in Tuonela tonight with Alastair. If that’s not okay, let me know and I’ll come home.” He disconnected, grabbed his backpack, and got out of the car.
The house was located on Benefit Street in the very spot where a sharp valley gave way to flatland. Just months ago Graham’s mother had dropped him off there.
Months . . . It seemed like years. Now she was dead. How many people were gone? Four?
The house was old—dark beams and stucco, with a huge front porch and woodland on three sides.
It took a while for his grandfather to answer his knock.
Even though his hair was white, Alastair Stroud probably wasn’t all that old. He was kind of wiry and still kinda tan from time spent on golf courses in Florida. He wore a lot of crisp plaid shirts and always smelled faintly of aftershave. Right now he smelled like alcohol, and it took only a few seconds for Graham to realize his grandfather was wasted.
Nice.
Did any of the adults in his family act like adults? That was what he wanted to know. And his grandfather was a cop. But he guessed cops got drunk just like anybody else when they weren’t on duty. Weird to think about.
Alastair tried like hell to appear sober, but he was too far gone. He blinked and dropped awkwardly into an overstuffed chair. “Have a seat.” He waved a drunken hand.
Graham hovered near the doorway. “I don’t know. I think maybe I’ll just go.”
“No, stay! Stay!”
So much for spending the night. No way was he doing that now.
“I was just getting ready to pop a frozen pizza in the oven.”
Graham dropped his backpack on the floor and walked across the living room to the adjoining kitchen. Every single cupboard door was open. The floor and counters were strewn with dishes and crap that had been pulled out. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for something.” Alastair jumped to his feet. “You haven’t seen a small tin tea canister, have you? About this size?” He made a shape with his hands.
“Silver?”
“Yes!”
“I think I saw it with some of my dad’s stuff. At the other place.”
His grandfather crossed the room and grabbed him by both shoulders. “If you see it again, stay away from it.” He gave him a small shake. His eyes were bloodshot and glassy. “Understand? Stay away from it.”
“Okay, you know what?” Graham bent his knees and slipped from his grasp. “I can’t do this.” He walked to the door and picked up his backpack. “Go to bed. Go to bed and sleep it off.”
“If you see it, call me. If you see the tin.”
“I’ll do that.”
He left.
Out the door and back in the car.
He made a
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