Freak City Read online

  Chapter Twelve

  Argus had snuck into the house and gone directly into his room, as quiet as a mouse. He was hungry and the bag of peanuts he'd brought with him didn't go very far, but he kept himself from leaving the room and wandering down to the kitchen, which is what his mind was doing every few minutes. In the meantime, he tried to concentrate on the small pile of newspaper articles beside him on the bed. There was a light tapping on the door, followed by Seth's head poking in, and his friendly voice that said,

  "Hey man, what's shakin?,” and Argus felt tremendously relieved and happy.

  "Hey, come on on,” he invited.

  Seth popped in, closing the door swiftly and dramatically behind him, then took two giant steps to the little chair by the table. He swung it around and sat facing its back, with his arms on the top and his chin on his arms.

  "So what's going on?" Argus asked.

  "We didn't even know you were home. Been here awhile?"

  "Couple of hours, I guess,” Argus said. He felt a great need to explain himself, but didn't know where to begin. He couldn't think of anything else to say but waited for Seth to say something.

  "Been reading those clippings again?" Seth inquired, pointing at the articles.

  "Oh yeah,” Argus said, happy to turn to something he could talk about. "There's some really weird stuff in these stories, man, weird."

  "Which ones?"

  "Like the dead woman,” Argus continued. "The old lady named Pak, lived alone in her house. Some bill collector guy broke into her house and found her lying there dead on the floor. Been dead for days, they said later. And the doors and windows were all boarded up. Nailed shut good and tight. She left notes lying around. Said she was being hassled by ghosts. Dead people coming up to the door, asking for help. Said they were lost. Freaking her out."

  "Oh yeah, I remember now,” said Seth. "Probably there were all just bill collectors like the guy who found her! And didn't she paint red circles all over the ceilings and walls?"

  "Old lady went crazy,” Argus decided. "I'm sure that happens a lot. Don't know why it's in with this package."

  "It sure is a hodge podge,” Seth said.

  "But it's kind of like this other one too,” Argus said. "The man who built a secret room in his house, and kidnapped his wife and locked her up in it. He said that he did it to keep her from vanishing. That was his word, said the cops. They were pretty sure he meant she kept running off, but he claimed that he meant the word literally. And his wife, she refused to testify against him. She said she was sure that he meant well."

  "Odd couple,” Seth said.

  "Seven years,” Argus told him. "He kept her locked up seven years! Fed her okay, she was healthy and all. Spent quality time with his prisoner,” he said.

  "And she had a TV,” Seth joked, cracking up.

  "What more could you want?" Argus added.

  "But seriously,” Seth said upon recovering, "I mean really. What's up with these stories? And these photos and all of that stuff?"

  "I got no idea,” Argus said.

  "We thought we had something today,” Seth began, and he told him about the park and the map and the buildings and the bus route, and was adding that he now thought it was all a mistake, when Argus suddenly stopped him.

  "The 63?" he asked.

  "Yeah, the Venezia line,” Seth replied. "Does that mean something to you?"

  "My uncle was a bus driver,” Argus told him. "And he drove that route, right up to the day that he vanished."

  "Vanished?" Seth was surprised. "Do you mean that word literally like the guy in the paper?"

  "Yeah,” Argus brightened. "Literally. At least that's what everyone said. One day Uncle Charlie just vanished. He got off the bus at the end of the line, walked into a vacant lot and vanished. The passengers were sitting there patiently. Nobody saw where he went. After a while somebody called up the Metro Authority and reported an AWOL driver. We never saw him again."

  "How old were you? Do you remember the guy?"

  "No,” Argus said, "I must have been small, maybe four, maybe three, I don't know. I don't remember ever knowing him. My brother Alex does. He said they were friends. But nobody talked about Charlie, not in my house."

  "Why not? Was he trouble?"

  "No,” Argus said, "I don't know. It's my family. Nobody ever talked about anything. It was pretty messed up back there. A gathering of strangers. That's what I used to call 'dinner',” He tried to laugh, as if what he had said was amusing, but even Seth could tell it was painful.

  "It's weird,” he said. "Vanished. And the 63 line. Man, every time I think that there's nothing at all, there's something that ties into you. It's all about you, Argus. There's something there."

  "Beats the hell out of me,” Argus said, and the two men were quiet for awhile. Finally it was Seth who spoke up.

  "You know what I think?" he said, and continued, "tomorrow is Saturday. You don't have to work, do you?" Argus shook his head.

  "Me neither,” he said. "We should go for a ride. I mean, Jolie and I drove all up and down, following that bus route, but that was driving. It's different. I was on the bus when I noticed those buildings. Driving I didn't see nothing at all. We should go on that bus. That's what I'm thinking."

  Argus just shrugged. If he had to say what he really thought, he would say that it sounded like a complete waste of time, but he certainly had nothing better to do, and it could even be fun, to hang out with this guy, and do something different. As for the mystery, he really didn't know, and he really didn't care.