D. MacHale - The Merchant of Death

Finally Mark said, “There’s no Santa Claus?”

Both of them laughed. It felt good, but it hid their true feelings.

Courtney said, “You’ll call me if-”

“Soon as the next one comes in,” promised Mark.

Then the two of them walked away from the empty lot, split up, and headed to their homes. Mark went right to his bedroom and waited for another journal from Bobby. The others had come pretty regularly and he expected his ring to start moving with the telltale quiver any second. But it didn’t. He stayed awake most of the night, staring at the ring, willing it to move.

But it didn’t.

Courtney called him twice a day to see if Bobby had written but kept getting the same answer, “Nothing yet.” Whenever she saw Mark in school she would make eye contact as if to ask: “Anything?” But Mark would always answer with a shrug and a shake of his head.

Days passed. The days turned into weeks, the weeks into months, with nothing from Bobby. Mark and Courtney realized that they couldn’t live their lives around waiting for his next message, so they drifted apart. Besides their friendship with Bobby, they really had nothing in common. Courtney went back to playing volleyball and led the Stony Brook team to the county finals. The men’s team, of course.

Mark went back to being Mark. He still ate too many carrots and spent most of his time huddled over books in the library. There was one big change in his life though. Andy Mitchell didn’t bother him anymore. Courtney didn’t know it, but she became Mark’s guardian angel…at least when it came to Andy Mitchell.

The investigation to find the Pendragons continued, but they found nothing. Sergeant D’Angelo and Captain Hirsch would sometimes call Mark or Courtney to ask if they had heard anything, but the answer was always the same. No. Even if they wanted to tell the truth, neither of them could begin to figure out what to say.

Mark and Courtney never forgot about Bobby. He popped into their thoughts at least once a day. But the more time that passed without a word, the less he stayed on their minds. It made sense. They had to get on with their own lives.

The times when they thought of Bobby were usually triggered by seeing things that reminded them of their friend. Mark would play Nintendo football and remember the times that Bobby kicked his butt at the very same game. Courtney would hear a comedian say something goofy on TV and she’d laugh because she knew it would have made Bobby laugh. One time Mark sat in the stands during gym watching the guys play basketball and it made him think of how great Bobby was at the game.

And that’s when it happened. The ring twitched.

At first Mark didn’t know what it was. But when he looked down, he saw the familiar glow coming from the stone. Mark nearly wet his pants with excitement. He ran out of the stands and right through the game. It didn’t matter to him that he totally disrupted play and was getting yelled at by every guy on the court. He had to get out of there fast and he had to find Courtney. He found her in the girls’ gym next door. She was taking a class on combatives and was in the middle of a judo match. With very little effort she picked up her opponent and threw her on her back with a loud, sickeningthud. Then just as she was helping her victim to her feet, Mark ran into the gym and yelled.

“Courtney!”

Everyone turned to look at the mad dweeb. Courtney locked eyes with him and instantly knew the deal. She quickly bowed to her opponent and ran to Mark. They didn’t have to say a word. They knew what to do. The two of them headed right for Mark’s fortress of solitude: the boys’ bathroom on the third floor. Courtney wasn’t shy, she barged in ahead of Mark. No sooner did they get inside than Mark took off the ring and put it on the ground. The ring twitched, the crystal lights flashed and the familiar process began. The little ring grew larger and with a final blinding flash, it was over.

On the floor was a roll of paper, but this one looked different than the others. It was a light green color, rather than the yellowed pages they were used to. There was a tie around the roll, but rather than a piece of brown leather, this looked like some kind of dark green plantlike material. Mark pulled it off and carefully unrolled the pages. They were roughly the same size as the others, but these were oddly shaped. There were no squared edges. Mark felt the texture-they didn’t appear to be paper at all. These pages were some sort of large, dried leaves that were sort of rubbery…and waterproof.

“You ready?” asked Courtney.

“My hands are shaking,” replied Mark.

Then the two of them looked at Bobby’s newest journal.

Cloral

Hi, guys. I gotta apologize for taking so long to write. So much has happened since I left you two, I’m not really sure of where to begin. First off, one mystery is solved. Remember the giant shark that nearly ate me down in that mine shaft on Denduron? Well, now I know where it came from. The territory I’m in now is called Cloral, and it’s entirely underwater. No kidding. Underwater. The quigs on Cloral are giant, flesh-eating sharks. Nice, huh?

Now let me tell you about some of the new trouble I’ve been getting into…

To Be Continued.