Spindle Lane. Mark Reefe

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      Paul’s face squished to a frown. “Really? Then what happened?”

      “Well, the thing in the bushes must have still been hungry because it came after me.”

      “Then you did see it. What was it?”

      “No. I booked it out of there as soon as I saw the bushes moving and never looked back. By the time I got home, I noticed the blood on my bike’s tires. Guess I must have driven through the puddle when I bailed.”

      Paul’s monotone response was annoying. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

      “What, that’s all you have to say? Don’t you believe me?”

      My friend ignored the question and turned his attention back to the road. “Should be at BBT in a couple minutes. Wonder if Melissa will be there. Hope she’s wearing that pink bikini like she did that one time. That was hot.”

      “Paul!”

      He glanced back at me with a blank expression. “Look, it’s not that I think you’re lying to me. It’s just this sounds like another one of your stories is all.”

      And there it was. The knife plunged deep in my gut as Paul twisted it and smiled. I guess I should have expected it by now, but the words still stung, especially because they were spilling out of my best friend’s mouth. I pointed to my front tire and went on the offensive. “Okay then. If you don’t believe me, look at the tire. I’ll bet you a slice of pizza there’s blood on it.”

      Dust and leaves swirled around Paul’s ankles as he slammed on the brakes. I stopped beside him.

      He flashed a toothy grin as he hopped off his bike. “Okay, sucka! Throw in a Coke and it’s a deal.”

      Taking a knee by the wheel, I motioned for Paul to do the same. My hand glided over its dusty, diamond-patterned surface as I looked for the proof to shut my best friend up. “I’m sure it’s all dried now, but there should still be some left. See, look here.”

      Paul leaned over my shoulder and squinted. “Where?”

      “You blind or something? Right here. Don’t you see the red smudge?”

      “Pfft, that could be anything. To be honest, it actually looks a little like a turd. Sure you didn’t just ride through a big pile of dookie some dog squeezed out on the trail?”

      He was trying to be funny, except there was a time and place for jokes, and this wasn’t it. Sometimes I wondered if Paul really took his best bud responsibilities seriously. He was supposed to believe me and have my back when nobody else would. After all, if you can’t count on your best friend, who the heck can you count on? I felt my face getting warm. “It’s not crap; it’s blood. I know what I saw. Guess I should have known better than to think you’d believe me.” With nothing left to say, I jumped on the Blue Beast and sped off back down the tree tunnel.

      We were exiting it by the time Paul caught up with me. “Hey, c’mon. I was just messing around with you. Be cool, dude.”

      I didn’t feel like being cool. I was trying to be serious, and he was busy trying to be Richard Pryor. Why? I didn’t know. It’s not like he had an audience.

      He finally took the hint. “All right, all right, sorry. It’s just you have to admit, you don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to living in a place most of us call reality. Remember the time you thought Mr. Davis was a vampire?”

      “That’s not fair. That was over a year ago, and I had evidence. The guy was pale as a ghost, and we never saw him during the day.”

      “He was an albino, Chris. He didn’t go out in the daytime because he didn’t want to get sunburnt.”

      An excellent point, but I wasn’t about to let that stop me. “Fine. But we didn’t know that at the time, now did we, Paaauul?”

      My friend snorted. “You were all set to douse him in holy water you swiped from Saint Pius. I was the one that talked you out of it.”

      “Yeah, so?”

      We zipped past the arched entrance to the Belair Stables where generations of some of the greatest racing horses in American history were born and bred. Now the place was a dusty old museum, and the consensus of my friends was that it was definitely haunted.

      Paul flashed his trademark goofball grin. “How do you think that would have gone down explaining to your parents? Gee, Mom, Dad, sorry I nearly drowned our albino neighbor in holy water I stole from church, but I thought he was actually a bloodsucking spawn of Satan.”

      That actually was a little funny. He earned no points from me for his rational argument. Rational was boring. Rational was predictable. Rational was opposite of fun and exciting and, as such, should be considered the enemy. He did get points for his sense of humor though. A smile tugged at the corners of my mouth. “Okay, maybe I owe you a solid on that one.”

      “Damn right. And don’t think I didn’t notice the wooden stakes you had stowed in your closet too.”

      I was positive I had those stashed under the carpeting in the back corner of the closet. If he found them, he may also have seen my stockpile of cherry bombs and the old bra ads from the Sears catalogue. “Yeah, well that would have been our last line of defense if Mr. Davis had turned out to be one of the undead. One of these days you’ll thank me for my keen instincts.”

      “The day that I have to thank you for being nutso is the day we’re in a shitload of trouble.”

      Paul wouldn’t have missed a golden opportunity to zing me if he found the other stuff in the closet. As my stomach slowly plopped back to its natural resting place, I decided to make a priority of relocating my incriminating contraband. Mom would have a heart attack if she found my stash.

      “Could be,” I said. “But on that day you’ll be so thankful I saved your life that you’ll vow to be my servant for eternity. You’ll wash my socks, cook my dinner, and babysit for Melissa Dwyer and me.”

      “Babysit for Melissa Dwyer and you?”

      I smirked at him. “That’s right. We’re gonna get married after high school and have a family. Two boys and maybe a girl. You’ll babysit so I can take Melissa out on the weekends for dinner and to the movies.”

      “Does Melissa know this yet?”

      “Of course not, goober! First, we’ll date for a couple years and then we’ll go steady. For a classy girl like Melissa you have to take your time, spend some money.”

      Paul snorted a laugh. “You do know you’ll actually have to talk to her for any of that to happen, right? Man, I wonder what it’s like to live on Planet Chris.”

      “It’s cool. You should come visit sometime.”

      We spent all day rotating between the pool, ping pong tables, and snack bar. When Mom and Katie showed up, I made good on my sugary bribe and even spent some time splashing around with the ankle biter—much to Paul’s annoyance. Despite the absence of Melissa and her pink bikini, we had a good time.

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