Rhett McLaughlin - The Lost Causes of Bleak Creek

Direct hit.

“Ohhhhhh,” Rex said, eyes bugged out and mouth literally forming an O—a genuine response, even though it seemed like he was mimicking something he’d seen on America’s Funniest Home Videos . He slowly tipped over onto his side, like a huge oak tree toppling toward the forest floor.

Timber! Leif thought, feeling immensely satisfied with himself.

“Wow,” Rex said, letting out a mix of groaning and laughter. “Didn’t know you had that in you.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me,” Leif said in a jokey voice, even though he sort of meant it.

There was a knock at the bedroom door.

Rex winced as he quickly got himself back upright. Leif closed his legs. This had been known to happen during their Nerf-to-the-nuts game, an interruption from an infuriated grownup—usually Rex’s dad—wondering what the hell was going on up there. He didn’t often concern himself with formalities like knocking on doors, though.

“Uh, come in,” Rex said.

It was, indeed, Rex’s dad. Both boys braced themselves for his wrath; it usually came in a quick, powerful burst and then disappeared, like a brief afternoon thunderstorm. No wrath was coming, though, and when Rex looked up he was surprised—shocked, even—to see his father on the verge of tears. His mom had come into the room, too, fully in the act of crying, her makeup splotched and runny.

Rex had pushed it too far. He and Leif had been told repeatedly to stop making a game of hurling foam balls at each other’s jewels, but they’d never listened. His parents’ worries about his future infertility had finally come to a head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. We will never throw the ball at each other’s…balls…again.”

“Yeah, sorry, Mr. and Mrs. McClendon,” Leif said. “Never again.”

“What?” Rex’s dad said. “No, we’re not— That’s not…that’s not why we came up here, boys.” He put an arm around Rex’s mother.

“Oh,” Rex said, looking to Leif, as if he might understand why Rex’s parents were both crying. “Why did…What’s goin—”

“It’s Alicia,” Rex’s mom said in between sobs. “We just heard from the Boykinses. She’s passed, boys. Alicia has passed.”

The words didn’t make sense to either Rex or Leif. She’s passed what ?

“Like…a test?” Rex asked.

His mom’s face crumpled further, her entire body sagging into Rex’s dad, who hugged her to keep her from falling to the floor.

“No, Rex,” Rex’s dad said. “She’s passed away. Alicia is…dead.”

Alicia is dead.

Alicia.

Is.

Dead.

Alicia. Dead.

Rex couldn’t comprehend the words, no matter how he arranged them in his mind.

“Oh God, oh no.” Leif thought the voice was Rex’s but realized it was actually his own. He couldn’t stop. “Oh God. Oh no. Oh, God.”

“I know,” Rex’s mom said, crouching down to hug Leif. “I know, sweetie. It’s so awful.”

Rex still couldn’t register what he was hearing. “What happened?” he asked.

“There was a fire,” his dad said, shaking his head, as he sat next to Rex and put an arm around him.

“Oh God,” Leif said, covering his mouth with his hand, realizing he was incapable of doing anything other than using the Lord’s name in vain over and over again. He figured God would give him a pass under these circumstances. It was as if he’d entered some alternate dimension, like he was in someone else’s dream. Alicia couldn’t have died. She was the most full-of-life person he’d ever known. “Oh God.”

As Rex stared blankly around the room, deep in shock, the word SACRIFICE screamed out from the Post-it in his own handwriting.

It practically knocked the wind out of him.

Ben was right.

They’d sacrificed Alicia. And here was their pathetic cover-up.

Rex wanted to weep, but instead he got angry. “What do you mean, a fire?”

“Son,” Rex’s dad said. “There was a fire in a small building on the school property that they use to…you know, to discipline kids. Seems Alicia was in there and somehow…a fire started. They think she may have started it herself and wasn’t able to get out. Apparently she was having a lot of trouble at the school. But we don’t really know much.”

Leif pictured flames rapidly spreading, surrounding Alicia.

Rex scoffed at their barely plausible story. This didn’t sound like the Alicia he knew. Sure, maybe she was capable of burning down a small building in some act of defiance, but she’d never make the mistake of getting caught in the fire herself. “We should find out,” he said. “That’s all you were told?”

Rex’s parents looked at each other, then gave him a sad shrug.

“But that can’t be what happened!” Rex shouted, jumping to his feet. “Something is really wrong with that school!” He made eye contact with Leif, who seemed to have been buying the fire story until this very second.

“I agree,” Rex’s dad said. “They obviously need to update their safety standards. Probably hasn’t changed since it was that old resort.”

“No, not…” Rex wanted to tell his parents about everything listed right in front of them on the bulletin board—Ben, Alicia’s violent abduction, what he and Rex had seen at the spring—but he also knew they wouldn’t be pleased that he and Leif had repeatedly been sneaking out past midnight. Now was no time to invite tighter surveillance on his nighttime activities; he needed to tread with caution. “I mean, they’re doing bad things to those kids. They did something bad to Alicia.”

“Sit down, honey,” Rex’s mom said, gently pulling at his hand. “You’re in shock. We all are.”

Leif’s hand was over his mouth again. Ben’s sacrifice theory. Could that really have happened to Alicia? Up until last Friday, he would have said No way, of course not, it’s a SCHOOL.

But now he thought: Yes. Yes, it definitely could have happened.

Rex sat back down. He knew that nothing he said to his parents right now would make any difference.

“Look,” Rex’s dad said, rubbing his son’s back, “when something terrible like this happens, it’s impossible to comprehend, and so we try to come up with all kinds of explanations. But the truth is, when God says it’s your time, it’s your time. All we can do is pray. For Jean and Bill. For Melissa.”

That’s not all we can do, Rex thought, allowing his rage to simmer, mainly because he knew the alternative involved losing control. “Has anyone seen her body?”

Rex’s mom and dad looked at each other.

“Well, I’m sure someone has,” Rex’s dad said.

“But, like, her parents? Have her parents seen the body?”

“Sweetie,” Rex’s mom said after blowing her nose, “you don’t need to concern yourself with morbid details like that right now. I think you’re just gonna get yourself more worked up.”

“So that’s a no?” Rex asked.

“It’s okay, Rex,” Leif said, not thinking this line of questioning would lead anywhere productive.

“Oh, is it, Leif ?” Rex looked at him. “Alicia is dead. She’s dead. ”

“I know,” Leif said, taking off his glasses to wipe away tears. “I know.”

“Are we doing her funeral?” Rex asked his parents, milliseconds after the thought occurred to him.

Rex’s dad sighed and grimaced. “I’m afraid not. Shackelford already offered the Boykinses a funeral on the house. Free service, free coffin, free everything.”

“Well, you should offer that too! Alicia was my best friend, Dad. The Boykinses aren’t even that close with Shackelford!”