Rhett McLaughlin - The Lost Causes of Bleak Creek

“You, young lady, are out of control!” he yelled, his oversized mustache jumping up and down.

“What possessed you to do such a thing?” demanded Mary Hattaway, who had also come to Whitewood’s aid.

Rex was incredibly grateful that he was still filming, but the gravity of what was happening to Alicia quickly overshadowed his enthusiasm for PolterDog . This wasn’t good. It was an accident, sure, but Rex knew that wouldn’t make a difference to everyone who’d witnessed it.

The crowd began to escort Whitewood to his nearby Ford Super Duty truck, perching him on the tailgate, where he held his red, blistered hands. Rex turned off his camera and ran to Leif and Alicia, who both looked shell-shocked. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“I didn’t mean to do it,” Alicia said.

“I’m sorry,” Leif said, staring at the ground. “I underestimated Tucker’s…enthusiasm.”

“Just tell me you got the shot,” Alicia said to Rex.

“Oh yeah. I got it. It was awesome. You were aw—”

“What in the world were you doin’?” Rex’s mom asked as she rushed over to them. She was as angry as he’d seen her in a long time. “Interruptin’ grace like that…have you lost your mind? And Mr. Whitewood is hurt!” She spun to Alicia. “Are your parents here?”

Alicia looked every bit as terrified as she’d been while Tucker was chasing her. “No, ma’am.”

“Well, I’m gonna call them as soon as I get home,” Martha threatened. She then headed toward Whitewood to survey the damage her son and his friends were responsible for.

Sirens cut through the air as both Bleak Creek ambulances pulled up to the sawhorses blocking Main Street. EMTs hopped out of the back and started rushing toward Whitewood.

“I think I might be in a lot of trouble,” Alicia said.

Whitewood was quickly wheeled into one of the ambulances, conscious and alert and waving to the crowd.

“Nah, he looks totally fine,” Rex said. “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Yeah,” Alicia said, but she didn’t sound convinced.

Rex wasn’t convinced either.

2

“WELL, BOYS,” STEVE McClendon began, “I think we all know why you’re here.”

Leif and Rex sat in two formal high-backed chairs in the McClendon living room. Rex’s parents, along with Leif’s mom, Bonnie, were lined up across from them on an antique wood-trimmed couch. Leif figured that the impending discussion would not be pleasant, as he’d only seen Rex’s mother let two types of people sit in her living room: out-of-town guests she was desperately trying to impress, and children she was desperately trying to discipline.

“Yes, sir,” Rex replied, which Leif quickly repeated.

Even though Alicia had been the one who’d leveled Wayne Whitewood, she wasn’t present. As usual, Rex’s parents had decided to treat the two boys as a unit, something Leif’s mom had passively accepted years ago. Leif had grown used to receiving whatever punishment Rex did, and he didn’t mind; enduring the same sanctions as his best friend somehow made them closer.

“What you two did,” Rex’s dad continued. “It was just so…disrespectful.” There it was. The worst offense a Bleak Creek youth could commit: failing to show proper reverence for the institutions the town held so dear. And, in a sick twist of fate, because their stunt had rudely interrupted a prayer during a pig pickin’, they had simultaneously dishonored the town’s most sacred deities, God and pork. Double whammy.

“I thought we raised you better than that,” Rex’s mom said, looking over to Leif’s mom, who put down one of the at-least-five-year-old Andes mints she’d picked up from the porcelain bowl on the coffee table. She nodded in an effort to lay on the collective condemnation.

“You did, Mom,” Rex offered. “It was really stupid. And I can promise you that it won’t ever happen again.” Leif signaled his agreement by assuming the most contrite posture he could, pressing his knees together and drawing his elbows to his sides.

“Well, it won’t happen again because I’m takin’ my camera back. Your dog movie is over,” Rex’s dad said.

Rex and Leif exchanged a look like they’d both been punched in the stomach.

“No, Dad, please!” Rex pleaded. “We’re almost done with it!”

“I was never comfortable with you makin’ a movie about a ghost in the first place,” Rex’s mom said. “There’s no such thing as ghosts. The Bible says ‘absent from the body, present with the Lord.’ That stuff is demonic!”

“It’s just a movie, Mom. Please, please, please…don’t take the camera! We’ve been working on this all summer.” Leif thought Rex was going to cry, and figured it might help the cause.

“No, son. I’m sorry. You can finish it later,” Rex’s dad insisted. “Because, you know, your mother’s right,” he added, looking to his wife. “You’re starting high school. This is no time to be messin’ around with…demon stuff.” Leif doubted that Rex’s dad really thought PolterDog was Satanic, but figured he wanted to present a united parental front. “If you start behaving—not to mention begin puttin’ some of that movie energy into gettin’ yourself in shape for basketball tryouts—then maybe you can use the camera next year.”

Leif looked to Rex, who sat quiet, resigned that arguing further would only make things worse.

“And…we think you should take a break from spending time with Alicia,” Rex’s mom added.

“What? No!” Leif had planned to stick to nonverbal communication, but he couldn’t help himself. “It wasn’t even her fault! We’re the ones who made her run into Mr. Whitewood!”

“It doesn’t matter whose fault it is,” Leif’s mom said, breaking her similar practice of letting the McClendons do the talking. “Between hitting Mr. Whitewood and that…mannequin situation, she’s getting a bad reputation.”

“That’s right,” Rex’s dad said. “And you two are too. Would hate to have to bring the Whitewood School into this, but…”

Leif found himself short of breath. In all previous disciplinary episodes in this room, the McClendons had never mentioned the possibility of Wayne Whitewood’s reform school. This was new. And terrifying.

Leif tried to steady his shaky knees as Rex began to speak again.

“Mom, Dad, Mrs. Nelson,” he said, making eye contact with each adult as he addressed them. “We know what we did was wrong, and we feel horrible about it. We’ll do whatever it takes to regain your trust. Even if that means not finishing PolterDog and never talking to Alicia again.”

Leif nodded accordingly, though he was relatively certain his best friend was being strategic rather than sincere.

—

LEIF PEDALED IN the dark, his mind racing even faster than his bike. He’d convinced himself that Alicia running into Mr. Whitewood—and him no longer being allowed to be her friend—was all his fault. It didn’t matter that Rex had given the signal too early. He had been the one to suggest the bacon belt. And he had been the one who had tackled Tucker, causing Alicia to turn her head at the worst moment. He kept running through the scene, each time hearing the humiliating moans of the usually composed Wayne Whitewood. What an absolute nightmare.

He’d also correctly guessed that Rex had never intended to keep his promise to his parents. Later that night, Rex had found the camcorder exactly where he knew his dad would hide it: the not-actually-secret secret cabinet in the garage. Rex had then done his Rex thing, telling Leif about the amazing destiny that awaited them if they could just finish the film.

“First, we win the Durham festival,” he’d said, standing on the back deck overlooking the woods behind his house, his arms moving in sweeping motions, like he was materializing the future right in front of them. “Then we get into a big one. Maybe even Sundance. Then we get distribution. Next thing you know, we’re getting coffee with Robert Zemeckis. Coffee with Zemeckis! Are you telling me you want to say no to that?” He was extremely convincing. Coffee with Zemeckis felt so possible. Plus, Leif had learned that once Rex set his sights on something, trying to dissuade him was futile.