Cell. Part 34

Clay was aware he was dozing as he often did when he drew inside his head. Coming uncoupled. And that was all right. Because he felt the way he always did just before picture and story became welded into one- happy, like people before an antic.i.p.ated homecoming. Before journeys end in lovers meeting. He had absolutely no reason to feel that way, but he did.

Ray Huizenga had died for a useless cell phone.

Or was it more than one? Now Clay saw another panel. This one was a flashback panel, you could tell by the scalloped edges.

CU on RAY'S hand, holding the grimy cell phone and a slip of paper with a telephone number scrawled on it. RAY'S thumb obscures everything but the Maine area code.

RAY (O.S.): When the time When the time comes, comes, call the call the number on number on that slip. You'll know the time. I gotta hope you'll know. that slip. You'll know the time. I gotta hope you'll know.

Can't call anybody from a cell in Kaskwakamak, Ray, because Kashwak = No-Fo. Just ask the President of Hah-vud.

And to drive the point home, here's another flashback panel with those scalloped edges. It's Route 160. In the foreground is the little yellow bus with MAINE SCHOOL DISTRICT 38 NEWFIELD MAINE SCHOOL DISTRICT 38 NEWFIELD printed on the side. In the middle distance, painted across the road, is printed on the side. In the middle distance, painted across the road, is KASHWAK= NO-FO. KASHWAK= NO-FO. Once again the detail-work is terrific: empty soda cans lying in the ditch, a discarded T-s.h.i.+rt caught on a bush, and in the distance, a tent flapping from a tree like a long brown tongue. Above the minibus are four voice-over balloons. These weren't the things they actually said (even his dozing mind knew it), but that wasn't the point. Once again the detail-work is terrific: empty soda cans lying in the ditch, a discarded T-s.h.i.+rt caught on a bush, and in the distance, a tent flapping from a tree like a long brown tongue. Above the minibus are four voice-over balloons. These weren't the things they actually said (even his dozing mind knew it), but that wasn't the point. Storymaking Storymaking wasn't the point, not now. wasn't the point, not now.

He thought he might know the point when he came to it.

DENISE (VO.): Is this where they Is this where they-?

TOM (VO.): Where they did the conversions, Where they did the conversions, correct. Get correct. Get into line a normie, make your call, and when you head into line a normie, make your call, and when you head on on up to the Expo flock, you're up to the Expo flock, you're one of one of THEM. What THEM. What a deal a deal DAN (VO.): Why here? Why not Why here? Why not on on the Expo the Expo grounds? grounds?

CLAY (VO.): Don't you remember? Kashwak=No-Fo. They lined em up at the far edge of cell coverage. Don't you remember? Kashwak=No-Fo. They lined em up at the far edge of cell coverage. Beyond Beyond here, nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero bars. here, nothing. Nada. Zip. Zero bars.

Another panel. Close-up on the Raggedy Man in all his pestiferous glory. Grinning with his mutilated mouth and summing everything up with one gesture. Ray had some bright idea that depended on making a cell phone call. It was so bright he completely forgot there's no coverage up here. I'd probably have to go to Quebec to get a bar on that phone he gave me. That's funny, but what's even funnier? I Ray had some bright idea that depended on making a cell phone call. It was so bright he completely forgot there's no coverage up here. I'd probably have to go to Quebec to get a bar on that phone he gave me. That's funny, but what's even funnier? I took took it! What a sap! it! What a sap!

So whatever Ray had died for was pointless? Maybe, but here was another picture forming. Outside, Pachelbel had given way to Faure, and Faure had given way to Vivaldi. Pouring from speakers instead of boom-boxes. Black speakers against a dead sky, with the half-constructed amus.e.m.e.nt rides in the background; in the foreground Kashwakamak Hall with its bunting and cheap hay insulation. And as the final touch, the little piece of detail-work for which Clay Riddell was already becoming known- He opened his eyes and sat up. The others were still in their circle on the carpet at the north end. Clay didn't know how long he'd been sitting against the door, but it had been long enough for his a.s.s to go numb.

You guys, he tried to say, but at first no sound would come out. His mouth was dry. His heart was pumping hard. He cleared his throat and tried again. 'You guys!' he said, and they looked around. Something in his voice made Jordan scramble to his feet, and Tom wasn't far behind. he tried to say, but at first no sound would come out. His mouth was dry. His heart was pumping hard. He cleared his throat and tried again. 'You guys!' he said, and they looked around. Something in his voice made Jordan scramble to his feet, and Tom wasn't far behind.

Clay walked toward them on legs that didn't feel like his own-they were half-asleep. He took the cell phone out of his pocket as he walked. The one Ray had died for because in the heat of the moment he had forgotten the most salient fact about Kashwakamak: up here at the Northern Counties Expo, these things didn't work.

8.

'If it won't work, what good is it?' Dan asked. He had been excited by Clay's excitement, but deflated in a hurry when he saw the object in Clay's hand wasn't a Get Out of Jail Free card but only another G.o.ddam cell phone. A dirty old Motorola with a cracked casing. The others looked at it with a mixture of fear and curiosity.

'Bear with me,' Clay said. 'Would you do that?'

'We've got all night,' Dan said. He took off his gla.s.ses and began to polish them. 'Got to spin it away somehow.'

'You stopped at that Newfield Trading Post for something to eat and drink,' Clay said, 'and you found the little yellow schoolbus.'

'That seems like a zillion years ago,' Denise said. She stuck out her lower lip and blew hair off her forehead.

'Ray found the little bus,' Clay said. 'Seats about twelve-' found the little bus,' Clay said. 'Seats about twelve-'

'Sixteen, actually,' Dan said. 'It's written on the dashboard. Man, they must have teensy teensy schools up here.' schools up here.'

'Seats sixteen, with s.p.a.ce behind the rear seat for packs, or a little light luggage for field trips. Then you moved on. And when you got to the Gurleyville Quarry, I bet it was Ray's idea that you should stop there.'

'You know, it was,' Tom said. 'He thought we could use a hot meal and a rest. How'd you know that, Clay?'

'I knew it because I drew it,' Clay said, and this was close to true-he was seeing it as he spoke. 'Dan, you and Denise and Ray wiped out two flocks. The first with gasoline, but on the second you used dynamite. Ray knew how because he'd used it working highway jobs.'

'f.u.c.k,' Tom breathed. 'He got dynamite in that quarry, didn't he? While we were sleeping. And he could have could have-we slept like the dead.'

'Ray was the one who woke us up,' Denise said.

Clay said, 'I don't know if it was dynamite or some other explosive, but I'm almost positive he turned that little yellow bus into a rolling bomb while you were sleeping.'

'It's in back,' Jordan said. 'In the luggage compartment.'

Clay nodded.

Jordan's hands were clenched into fists. 'How much, do you think?'

'No way of knowing until it goes up,' Clay said.

'Let me see if I'm following this,' Tom said. Outside, Vivaldi gave way to Mozart-A Little Night Music. The phoners had definitely evolved past Debby Boone. 'He stowed a bomb in the back of the bus* then somehow rigged a cell phone as a detonator?' The phoners had definitely evolved past Debby Boone. 'He stowed a bomb in the back of the bus* then somehow rigged a cell phone as a detonator?'

Clay nodded. 'That's what I believe. I think he found two cells in the quarry office. For all I know, there could have been half a dozen, for crew use-G.o.d knows they're cheap enough nowadays. Anyway, he rigged one to a detonator on the explosives. It's how the insurgents used to set off roadside bombs in Iraq.'

'He did all that while we were sleeping?' Denise asked. 'And didn't tell us?'

Clay said, 'He kept it from you so it wouldn't be in your minds.'

'And killed himself so it wouldn't be in his,' Dan said. Then he uttered a burst of bitter laughter. 'Okay, he's a G.o.ddam hero! The only thing he forgot is that cell phones don't work beyond the place where they put up their G.o.ddam conversion tents! I bet they barely worked there!'

'Right,' Clay said. He was smiling. 'That's why the Raggedy Man let me keep this phone. He didn't know what I wanted it for-I'm not sure they exactly think, anyway-'

'Not like us, they don't,' Jordan said. 'And they never will.'

'-but he didn't care, because he knew it wouldn't work. I couldn't even Pulse myself with it, because Kashwak equals no-fo. No-fo-me-me.'

'Then why the smile?' Denise asked.

'Because I know something he doesn't,' Clay said. 'Something they they don't.' He turned to Jordan. 'Can you drive?' don't.' He turned to Jordan. 'Can you drive?'

Jordan looked startled. 'Hey, I'm twelve. I mean, h.e.l.lo?'

'You've never driven a go-kart? An ATV? A snowmobile?'

'Well, sure* there's a dirt go-kart track at this pitch-n-putt place outside Nashua, and once or twice*'

'That'll work. We're not talking about very far. a.s.suming, that is, they left the bus at the Parachute Drop. And I bet they did. I don't think they know how to drive any more than they know how to think.'

Tom said, 'Clay, have you lost your mind?'

'No,' he said. 'They may hold their ma.s.s flock-killer executions in that virtual stadium of theirs tomorrow, but we're we're not going to be part of it. We're getting out of here.' not going to be part of it. We're getting out of here.'

9.

The little windows were thick, but Dan's crowbar was a match for the gla.s.s. He, Tom, and Clay took turns with it, working until all the shards were knocked out. Then Denise took the sweater she'd been wearing and laid it over the bottom of the frame.

'You okay with this, Jordan?' Tom asked.

Jordan nodded. He was frightened-there was no color in his lips at all-but seemed composed. Outside, the phoners' lullaby music had cycled around to Pachelbel's Canon again-what Denise had called the sound of memories.

'I'm okay,' Jordan said. 'I will be, anyway. I think. Once I get going.'

Clay said, 'Tom might be able to squeeze through-'

Behind Jordan's shoulder, Tom looked at the small window, no more than eighteen inches wide, and shook his head.

'I'll be okay,' Jordan said.

'All right. Tell it to me again.'

'Go around and look in the back of the bus. Make sure there's explosives, but don't touch any of it. Look for the other cell phone.'

'Right. Make sure it's on. And if it's not on-'

'I know, turn turn it on.' Jordan gave Clay an I'm-no-dummy look. 'Then start the motor-' it on.' Jordan gave Clay an I'm-no-dummy look. 'Then start the motor-'

'No, don't get ahead of yourself-'

'Pull the driving seat forward so I can reach the pedals, then then start the motor.' start the motor.'

'Right.'

'Drive between the Parachute Drop and the funhouse. Go super slow. I'll run over some pieces of the funhouse and they may break-snap under the tires-but don't let that stop me.'

'Right on.'

'Get as close to them as I can.'

'Yes, that's right. Then come around back again, to this window. So the hall is between you and the explosion.'

'What we hope hope will be an explosion,' Dan said. will be an explosion,' Dan said.

Clay could have done without this, but let it pa.s.s. He stooped and kissed Jordan on the cheek. 'I love you, you know,' he said.

Jordan hugged him briefly, fiercely. Then Tom. Then Denise.

Dan put out his hand, then said, 'Oh, what the h.e.l.l,' and enfolded Jordan in a bearhug. Clay, who had never warmed very much to Dan Hartwick, liked him better for that.

10.

Clay made a step with his hands and boosted Jordan up. 'Remember,' he said, 'it's going to be like a dive, only into hay instead of water. Hands up and out.'

Jordan put his hands over his head, extending them through the broken window and into the night. His face underneath his thick fall of hair was paler than ever; the first red blemishes of adolescence stood out there like tiny burns. He was scared, and Clay didn't blame him. He was in for a ten-foot drop, and even with the hay, the landing was apt to be hard. Clay hoped Jordan would remember to keep his hands out and his head tucked; he'd do none of them any good lying beside Kashwakamak Hall with a broken neck.

'You want me to count three, Jordan?' he asked.

'f.u.c.k, no! Just do it before I pee myself!'

'Then keep your hands out, go!' go!' Clay cried, and thrust his locked hands upward. Jordan shot through the window and disappeared. Clay didn't hear him land; the music was too loud. Clay cried, and thrust his locked hands upward. Jordan shot through the window and disappeared. Clay didn't hear him land; the music was too loud.

The others crowded up to the window, which was just above their heads. 'Jordan?' Tom called. 'Jordan, you there?'

For a moment there was nothing, and Clay was sure Jordan really had broken his neck. Then he said shakily, 'I'm here. Jeez, here. Jeez, that hurts. I croggled my elbow. The left one. That arm's all weird. Wait a minute*' that hurts. I croggled my elbow. The left one. That arm's all weird. Wait a minute*'

They waited. Denise took Clay's hand and squeezed it hard.

'It moves,' Jordan said. 'It's okay, I guess, but maybe I ought to see the school nurse.'

They all laughed too hard.

Tom had tied the bus's ignition key to a double line of thread from his s.h.i.+rt, and the thread to the buckle of his belt. Now Clay laced his fingers together again and Tom stepped up. 'I'm going to lower the key to you, Jordan. Ready?'

'Yeah.'

Tom gripped the edge of the window, looked down, and then lowered his belt. 'Okay, you got it,' he said. 'Now listen to me. All we ask is do it if you can. If you can't, no penalty minutes. Got that?'

'Yes.'