Jeff Strand - A Bad Day for Voodoo

“I’ll be back soon!” I called down.

We got in the cab and sped off.

“Do you think she’s going to be okay?” Adam asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. She’s strong.”

“Do you think her parents are going to be mad that we left her bleeding in the sewer?”

“She’s going to be fine. Look, Adam, I just want to say that even though the bullet missed you and hit her, I appreciate that you tried to take a bullet for me.”

“That’s what friends do, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me. If the bullet had hit me, he still had other bullets, and he would’ve just shot you and Kelley

right after my sacrifice. The real person you should thank is Mr. Click.”

I turned around and looked at the backseat, which was as close as I could get to seeing the trunk. “Thanks, Mr. Click.”

“Do you think things are going to change for us?” Adam asked. “I would say yes.”

“I hope they don’t.”

“We’ll find out pretty soon.”

We were astonished that the only thing that went wrong during the drive was that we stopped at a red light and some guy got in the back of the cab and told us to take him to the airport. But then he saw my ear and said that he’d find another cab.

As we turned into my neighborhood, I said, “You’ve got to do this. If I go in there, they’ll never let me leave.”

“Okay. Where’s the doll?”

“Under my bed. It’s in the same box.”

“All right. Should I pretend that I don’t know where you are, or should I make up some cover story about how you were kidnapped and how I need the box to fill a ransom demand?” “Maybe you should just say, ‘Trust me, I’ll explain everything later,’ and not get into specifics. Be smooth.”

“Smooth. I can do that.”

As we turned onto my block, I could see that a police car was parked outside of my house. That was better than having three or four police cars parked out there. It meant that maybe the cops were there for the missing teenager and not the gang slayings and the escaped cadaver and stuff.

“Stop a couple of houses away so they don’t see the car,” I said.

Adam turned off the engine. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.”

“Remember, smooth.”

“Smooth as silk.”

“Yes.”

“Smooth as chocolate.”

“Let it go, Adam.”

“One doll, coming up,” he said, getting out of the car. “Smooth. Smoooooooth.”

He jogged toward my house.

This would work out. He’d get the doll, and we’d be on our way. I checked my watch. We still had about...oh crap, only twenty minutes. I’d have to violate the occasional traffic law.

It would be fine. It would be fine.

And if not, how bad could hell really be? No doubt it was exaggerated for publicity purposes.

Adam knocked on my front door and then walked inside.

Sure, he’d be swarmed with questions, but I’m sure he’d handle the situation with the utmost smoothness, and he’d just stroll right out with the doll tucked under his arm.

Maybe the taxi should be closer to the house just in case.

I scooted into the driver’s seat and drove the car in front of my home. I knew that my mom and dad were suffering, and I felt terrible about it, but there was no time to explain. I could imagine the conversation.

Me: Mom! Dad! I’m alive!

Mom: Oh, thank goodness! We’re so relieved! Uh, where did you get that taxi?

Me: No time to explain! I have to go! Quickly!

Dad: No! We can’t let you out of our sight! Not after fearing we’d lost you forever!

Police Officer #1: You need to answer some questions for us first, young man.

Me: If I don’t get to Esmeralda’s House ofJewelry in the next twenty minutes, somebody will die!

Police Officer #2: Oh no! It’s our job to stop people from dying! Hop into our police car, and we’ll drive you right where you need to go, siren wailing and red-and-blue lights flashing! We’ll get you there in time!

Me: Is there any chance that I could move something from the taxi’s trunk to your trunk without you watching?

Police Officer #1: Probably not.

Me: What if I said I needed to bring along the body of that teacher who died today, and you could see the inside of his head?

Police Officer #2: We would take you into custody immediately.

Police Officer #1: And then we’d take you into an interrogation room and shine a bright light into your face, and one of us would pretend to be nice and the other one would pretend to be mean, and we’d ask you if you knew how much trouble you were in.

Police Officer #2: Then we’d break your fingers, one by one, until you talked.

Police Officer #1 [ to Officer #2]: No, we wouldn’t.

Police Officer #2: Well, don’t tell him that!

Police Officer #1: Broken fingers or not, I assure you that if you involve your parents and the authorities, it would be extremely difficult to get permission to bring Mr. Click’s body to the voodoo shop, and you wouldn’t be able to convince us to let you drive the cab with a police escort either, because why would it be so important that you drive that specific cab? Doesn’t make sense. Not gonna happen.

The front door of my house flew open, and Adam came running out, followed by my mom.

“Drive! Drive! Drive!”

CHAPTER 28

[Email address withheld.]

Hi, Tyler! It's your friendly editor here! I just read Chapter 28 of your book, and all I can say is, WOW!!! The whole time I was reading the book, I was thinking, “How in the world is he going to top the awesome stuff that's happened before?" but you went and did it!

Amazing. Best car chase ever.

Honestly, if I didn't know that this story was completely true, I'm not sure I'd believe it. You've got Adam running out of your house with your parents and two police officers following, and then right in the middle of this pulse-pounding action, there was that moment where you see the tears in your mother's eyes and...oh, the amount of emotion you packed into just twelve paragraphs was unbelievable!

Then that whole chase, where Adam can't get into the car but jumps up onto the hood, and then your mom almost gets the back door open so you had to speed off. I kept saying out loud, “Oh my God! Oh my God!" My husband kept asking what was wrong, and I kept reading him parts of the book, and then he started saying, “Oh my God! Oh my God!" If you don't win the Pulitzer Prize for this, then the Pulitzer committee should all go drown themselves in a swimming pool with extra chlorine. That's all I've got to say about that.

(Don't tell the Pulitzer committee I said that! LOL!)

So then you're speeding off, and the cops rush back to their cars, and I'm thinking, “Oh, no way is Tyler ever going to get away with this! He's only sixteen! How can a sixteen-year-old beat two trained cops in a high-speed chase?" Yeah, the two cops were in the same vehicle, but still!

Wow! Did I say wow already? Wow! The excitement! The close calls! I thought Adam was dead for sure when you rolled down the window and he had to climb in at ninety miles per hour, and then that other car almost sideswiped you guys! How close did Adam come to getting crushed between the vehicles? Inches?

And then you swerved into the wrong lane against oncoming traffic! No, wait...that's part of my notes. I know this story is true, but it would be really cool if you swerved into the wrong lane against oncoming traffic and had to dodge a whole bunch of cars. Come on, one little exaggeration won't get you in trouble. Do it for me? Thanks! Love ya.

The roadblock scene. I don't want to be repetitious, but wow. Wow, wow, wow. That was crazy! My favorite part was how after not using actual profanity through the whole book, you went ahead and put the s-word in there. You managed to give the s-word its power again. Amazing.