The Fourth Stall - Chris Rylander [83]
I think they might have been too busy warily eyeing what I had just noticed: my six rescuers had weapons strapped across their backs. But as they dismounted their bikes and armed themselves, I noticed that they didn’t exactly bring real weapons. Vince, for instance, had a plastic snow shovel. Fred held a long, skinny tree branch out in front of him, but in all honesty, it was just a gnarly twig that would probably shatter if hit by a light breeze. Joe had one of those thick foam noodles that kids sometimes bring to the swimming pool. Nubby held a giant rubber trout with a missing dorsal fin and bite marks all over it as if he’d gotten hungry and chewed on it during the bike ride.
At least Great White had a gun. The only problem was that it was a water gun. I especially questioned his choice of weapon. It’s not like Staples was a witch who’d melt when sprayed with water. But then again, Great White was there to help me, they all were, and that’s what mattered most. Kitten was the only one who looked like he was used to picking out effective weapons. He had a really nasty-looking, rusty lawn rake. That didn’t surprise me; you could always count on Kitten to bring a flamethrower to roast a marshmallow.
My friends lined up in front of us about twenty feet away. Staples stood with PJ and the other three high school kids between my rescuers and me.
The searing sun shone on a classic showdown. I was so proud of my crew. I didn’t know how they’d done it, but they’d somehow found out where I was and then rode out the few miles on their bikes. And now they were apparently ready to fight for me. Even if they weren’t really equipped for it.
The two sides stared at each other. The only noise was that of a few birds singing about whatever they had to sing about. Then finally the silence was broken.
“Let him go, Staples.” It was Vince.
“Or what, you’ll beat me up with your little toys?” Staples said with a smirk.
“Umm, yeah, kind of. I guess that’s what would happen,” Vince said.
He never is too good at confrontations, like I’ve said before.
“You’ll be sorry if you hurt him, Staples,” Nubby said, looking pretty intimidating for a seventh grader holding a rubber trout.
“Oooh, will I?” Staples said with a sneer.
That’s when Kitten did what Kitten does best: something crazy. He walked a few steps over to the black Honda with the huge spoiler. He raised the rake above his head. He held it there for a moment while everyone watched.
Then he slammed it onto the roof of the car. In the empty Yard the clang was deafening.
“No!” PJ screamed. I heard some of his buddies say things that would’ve made my mom faint.
Kitten dragged the rake across the roof, and the screeching noise made us all wince and grit our teeth. Except for Staples—he just stood there smiling. Kitten finished and the screeches faded. It was hard to see from my spot, but we all knew there were some nasty scratches on the car. One of the most disturbing smiles I’d ever seen spread slowly across Kitten’s face like an expanding pool of blood. I think the rest of us in the Yard got chills up our spines all at the same time.
PJ made a move to go after Kitten, but the little psycho raised the rake again.
“Stay where you are or I’ll do the back window next,” he said in his small, quiet voice. PJ complied as if he was being barked at by a drill instructor. Kitten’s arms shook slightly, not from nerves I don’t think but from excitement. He wanted PJ to keep coming at him so he could smash the back window.
“Now let him go or we’ll make that car look like a piece of Swiss cheese,” Nubby said.
Staples laughed. He rocked back on his heels and then shook his head.
“Go ahead, do it. I don’t care,” he said.
There was a dead silence. I think my crew didn’t really know what to do.
Then Kitten shrugged and raised the rake again. “Okay, we will.”
“Wait!” PJ yelled. “Wait. You know what? I’m out of here. Don’t hurt my baby. I need it; just . . .” He took car keys from his pocket and moved toward the car. He opened the driver’s side door.
“Yeah, I’m going to go, too,