Текст книги "Disney after Dark"

Автор книги: Ridley Pearson

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 14 страниц)

21

Amanda stayed in the lead on her bike. Thankfuly, she hadn’t asked any questions, and he took this as a sign they were becoming really good friends. He told her only that he had to see Jelly and that she was welcome to come along if she wanted. They locked their bikes beneath a sign that read: CRAZY GLAZE.

“You’re awfully quiet today,” she said.

“Yeah,” was all Finn could think to say.

“You want me to keep her busy while you check around back. Is that about it?”

He nodded.

Amanda entered the store, glancing back at Finn with a worried expression.

Finn found two fire escapes out back, made of slatted iron, servicing several doors.

Finn heard Jelly’s distinctive voice through an open window. This was followed by Amanda asking after Terry.

“Terry’s not feeling well,” Jelly said.

“I brought him some homework,” Amanda said. It was a white lie, because in fact she and Finn went to a different school than Maybeck; but she needed a reason to see him.

“That’s sweet of you, girl. I’ll be sure to pass it along.”

Amanda said, “Is it the flu?”

“Not exactly the flu,” Jelly answered. “You want to leave him homework, that’d be fine. But right now, I’ve got a lot do.”

“Can I help you?” Amanda offered. “Can I fill in for Terry, if he’s not feeling well?”

“Well…Terry’s asleep upstairs. That would be very good of you, Amanda. Thank you for offering. I’m happy to pay you, though I can’t pay much.”

Finn climbed up the fire escape. The rail was hot to the touch. If caught, Finn wasn’t sure what excuse he’d use, but he’d think of something. At the first landing there was a normal-looking door.

Finn knocked gently. Nothing. Then he tried the doorknob; it turned, but he didn’t dare open it. That was just plain wrong, and he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

Then the obvious hit him: that other landing below the adjacent windows. If he could make the jump…

Finn climbed over the rail of the landing, hung on, and jumped. His fingers hooked around the railing. He hung on for dear life, pulled himself over, and collapsed below the first window.

He got to his feet and peered in. He saw a television room with some very nice pottery scattered around. The next window, considerably smaller, was covered on the inside by a thick curtain—a bathroom, perhaps.

Finn moved to the third window and peered inside.

Maybeck.

He was asleep in bed– with the shade up and the lights on, Finn noted—rolled over, with his back to Finn. He had on the same shirt he’d been wearing the night before. Next to the bed, on a side table, Finn noticed a thermometer bulb-down in a glass of water, a face cloth folded into a strip three inches wide, and a copy of the Bible.

Finn knocked gently on the glass. Maybeck didn’t stir. Finn tried again, a little louder.

Maybeck didn’t budge. If Finn knocked any harder, he thought he’d break the glass. Instead, he tested the window. It opened a crack. Again, he faced going inside uninvited. Again, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.

But he did slide the window up and stick his head through.

“Maybeck!” he whispered harshly. “Maybeck, wake up!

“Finn!” It was Amanda’s voice, behind and below him. Finn bumped his head on the window frame as he turned to look for her.

“Jelly’s coming up there!” Amanda warned frantically. “She heard you!”

Finn ducked out the bedroom window. He could hear Jelly coming up the stairs. The footsteps were close now. Finn slid Maybeck’s window shut, ducked, and hurried to the railing. He climbed over, paused, and jumped.

For a fraction of a second, it seemed that he’d misjudged the distance, that he would fall, crashing in a pile of broken bones right in front of Amanda. But he made it. He climbed over the railing and hurried down to ground level.

“Finn? Finn Whitman?” Jelly hollered from the upstairs balcony. “What are you doing here?”

“Hello, Jelly!” Finn called back.

“You sneaking around back here?”

“No, ma’am.”

“’Cause that’s what it looks like.”

“I need to talk to Terry,” Finn confessed. “It’s important.”

“You can’t. Terry’s sick. Not well.”

“Sick, or asleep? He won’t wake up, will he?”

Amanda snapped her head in Finn’s direction.

Jelly said, “You stay right where you are, young man.”

Jelly took her time. “Listen,” she said, emerging through the back door. “This is not something I want going around school. You understand?” She met eyes with them both. “Terry’s got some kind of sleeping sickness.”

Finn gasped.

“We can’t wake him up. He’s not got a fever. Not been bitten by anything. No sweats or shakes.” She took a long look up at Maybeck’s bedroom window. “Doctor says to let him be one more night. Tomorrow, he goes to the hospital and they start doing tests. But I’m saying my prayers. Nothing seems wrong with him. Doctor says he’s fine in all the important ways.”

“He’s stuck asleep?” Amanda said.

“That’s a funny way to put it,” Jelly said, “but yes.”

Finn wanted to kick Amanda, but she didn’t know what she’d said. He had told her nothing about the night before.

Maybeck was still crossed over. Finn struggled to figure out what that meant.

“Can’t wake him up?” Finn blurted out.

“That’s right,” Jelly said.

Finn considered carefully before he spoke. “Listen…I don’t expect you to believe me or anything, but Terry’s condition—it has to do with his being a DHI, a Disney Host, like I am.” She studied him thoughtfully but did not interrupt. “I think I can help him. Maybe. Help him wake up.”

“Is this some kind of joke? Because it’s in poor taste, young man. Terry’s extremely ill.”

“Finn?” Amanda said. “What’s going on?”

“Before he went to bed last night—maybe even yesterday afternoon—did Maybeck…did Terry…get a phone call ?”

Jelly took another step away from him. “What’s with you, boy?” She was not pleased. She looked on the verge of tears.

“He did, didn’t he? And I’ll bet he came away from that call excited, didn’t he? Because it was from a girl, wasn’t it?”

“Her?” Jelly said, pointing at Amanda, not realizing she’d just confirmed that Finn was right.

“No,” Finn said softly, “not her.” Thoughts crowded his head. “Please don’t take him to the hospital until you hear from me tomorrow.”

“I’m supposed to trust my Terry to a thirteen-year-old boy?” Jelly said, incredulous.

“Fourteen,” Finn said. “I’m fourteen next month.”

22

Back riding their bikes, Finn and Amanda pedaled side by side on the sidewalk, slipping into single file whenever they passed a pedestrian. The afternoon slid toward evening, the sun dragging lower in the sky, the first haze of twilight upon them. Finn felt his whole world dimming.

“He’s not asleep, is he, Finn?” she asked.

“I don’t think so.”

“Then what?”

“Trapped over there,” Finn said.

“What’s that mean?”

“It means we left him, and we shouldn’t have, and now he’s stuck back there. On this side, he’s asleep. Over there, he’s still a DHI. Who knows what’s happened to him.”

“You think he’s been caught or something?”

“I hope not,” Finn answered. “But this is nothing but bad. Real bad.” Finn felt a cool wind on his back. He craned over his shoulder to look.

Though Finn said nothing, Amanda, riding alongside him said, “I feel it, too. Check out your handlebars.”

Finn touched his handlebars: ice cold. His fingers left small patches of vapor behind as he removed them.

“Just like the car wash,” she said.

Finn didn’t need to be told what that sudden chill meant.

He scoured the immediate area for any sign of Maleficent.

He saw only cars, storefronts, and power lines.

Black cars, red cars, blue cars, and white.

Small cars, big cars, dull cars, and bright.

Where did they come from? Where were they going?

Some cars were driving; some cars were towing.

“Do you ever think in rhymes?” he asked her, wondering where that had come from.

She glanced over at him, gravely concerned.

“What?” he asked.

“You’re thinking in rhymes?”

“So what?”

She answered, “It’s one of the signs—it’s something….” She caught herself. Her voice trailed off.

“What signs?”

She allowed her bike to fall behind him so far that he couldn’t see her. So Finn slowed as well, and they dueled this way: Amanda slowing, then Finn slowing to join her, until they had come to a stop.

“What do you know about this?” he asked, feeling agitated and impatient. “It’s a sign of what?”

To their right was a community center and adjoining it an enormous skateboard park with a half pipe, a full pipe, jumps, and four tubs—a landscape of smooth concrete basins, like empty swimming pools, interconnected by ramps and tunnels, where a dozen kids were practicing stunts.

Amanda said meekly, “Rhyming is…it’s one of the signs of—witches.” With that, she rose up onto her pedals and zoomed off, turning in to the skateboard park.

The park was full of skaters,

Full of concrete alligators,

Kids in hoards, riding boards.

Sun was sinking, growing later.

Finn shook his head violently, side to side, trying to clear his thought and push away the rhymes. What had she just said? He couldn’t remember. All he could hear were rhymes. One thought found its way through: Amanda knows something she isn’t telling me. Finn raced to catch her.

This is weird,

Like a man with a beard.

Green skin and pigs’ eyes,

Frog legs and fireflies,

A dark cave with loud cries.

A girl with tears in her eyes.

Finn caught up to her. Amanda’s eyes were red. She’d either been crying or affected by the speed of her riding.

“Amanda…”

“I can’t tell you,” she said.

A motorized minibike zoomed noisily around the corner and dropped into the skate park. The rider was thin and wore a black leather top and pants and a black helmet with a silver-mirrored visor that hid his face.

The minibike came straight at them, showing no signs of slowing. On the contrary, it was on a collision course.

Amanda rose up onto her pedals and dropped her bike into the first big concrete bathtub.

Finn followed. They climbed the opposing walland flew up, airborne.

The minibike followed.

Finn rose from his seat, balanced the bike in the air, tipped forward, and dove into the next big concrete basin.

Amanda dropped into the half pipe to the left.

Separated like this, the minibike driver had to choose; it came at Finn.

The other boarders and bikers stopped what they were doing and watched the contest.

Amanda flew down the steep wallof the half pipe, picking up speed and launching into a high jump. Finn, parallel with her now, yanked his front wheel in midair and changed direction upon landing. He joined her, following inside the full pipe.

As the minibike entered the full pipe, Finn found the screeching whine of its motor deafening.

Out the end of the pipe, riding together now, Finn and Amanda raced to the bottom of the third tub, pushed down onto their seats by centrifugal force. As they raced up the opposing side, they lifted, tipped their weight in unison, and reversed their bikes. Aimed back down into the deep basin, the minibike whining toward them, Amanda bravely reached over with her left arm and grabbed Finn by the forearm. Finn returned the grip.

“You ready for this?” she asked.

“On three,” Finn said.

They released their brakes on the count of three, zooming toward the oncoming minibike, their arms extended and ready to clothesline the rider.

The bikes flew down. The minibike wound its way toward them. Amanda and Finn screamed in unison. At the last possible second, the rider dumped the minibike in a flurry of sparks, slipping under their clasped arms and between the two bikes.

The few onlookers let out a wild cheer.

Amanda and Finn stopped at the top of the basin and looked back.

The driver, lying next to the minibike, appeared okay. He (she? it?) stood up, brushed off, and gestured toward the two. Finn felt a pulse of cold fill him. A familiar cold.

Amanda shouted something that sounded like a foreign language. She crossed her arms and then threw them forward toward the rider, and the cold stopped abruptly. The leather-clad rider was lifted from the ground and thrown to the concrete.

“Ride!” Amanda hollered at Finn. “Ride, and don’t look back!”

Finn pedaled off, wondering if he’d just seen Amanda do that.

“Who are you?” he shouted, as their bikes reached the street.

“We’ve got to split up,” she said. With that, she pedaled furiously away from him.

23

At dinner that night, Finn brooded at the table, unable to take his mind off recent events: Maybeck’s sleeping sickness, Amanda’s mysteries, the letters they’d found secretly hidden at both It’s a Small World and Splash Mountain.

Watching him, his mother wore a look of curiosity, while his father, in typical fashion, ate quietly. Finn stabbed at his food and moved it around on his plate, hoping it might appear eaten.

“How was school today?” his mother asked. Every night, the same question. Next would come: did you do anything fun today? What are your friends up to?

“Did you do anything fun today?” she asked brightly. She couldn’t stand it when Finn was quiet like this.

“I don’t know,” Finn answered honestly. “It’s all right, I suppose.”

“You can do better than that,” his father said. His father always thought Finn could do better at everything. He seemed always to be riding Finn about his grades or his performance on the soccer field. He talked about college scholarships like they were some kind of religion.

“I’m good,” Finn said, pushing back his plate. “May I be excused?” Another part of the secret code. He had no chance of leaving the table without these passwords.

“No snacks later, sweetheart. This is dinner.”

“I know,” Finn said. He stood up from the table and grabbed his plate. Suddenly his head went all rubbery, as if all his blood was draining from him at once.

He thought he might pass out.

“Finn?” His mother’s voice, but in the next county.

Then there was her painted mouth moving above him, her voice sounding detached and several octaves lower than normal, like a tape playing at half speed. She’d rushed to his side.

The lights in the room dimmed. A power failure? He saw his father, chewed food in his open mouth, looking…scared.

“Finn, dear?” his mother said.

“I’m…fine,” he replied.

His mother hovered over him. He felt his parents taking him under his arms and leading him upstairs. Finn’s feet flapped and dragged. He felt useless.

They led him toward his bed.

“No! No! I don’t want to go to sleep!” But his eyes felt so heavy….

He closed his eyes, and it happened again.

24

Finn awoke on the same park bench where he’d first met Wayne, at the end of Main Street, across from the fire station. It was nighttime, though the park remained open.

He looked down to see his arms and legs faintly glowing: he was his DHI self Some kids saw him, and he knew he was in for trouble if he didn’t get out of there.

A flash of light to his right. Finn strained to see through the thick crowds—always so many people!—and…

Yes, there it was again: another flash of light. For an instant, the crowd parted and he saw Philby waving.

Finn dragged himself heavily across the street, still feeling sluggish, leaving the curious kids behind, and caught up with Philby.

“I thought that was you,” Philby said, pocketing a flashlight.

“You don’t look so hot,” Finn said.

“Have you tried a mirror?”

“Another brownout?” Finn asked.

“I assume so.”

“We’re early,” Finn said.

“Yeah, but if we’re here, chances are, the girls are too. We should check the apartment and the teepee.”

“But let’s do it together,” Finn suggested.

“Maybeck?” Philby asked.

“I went to his house,” Finn answered. “He’s asleep in bed and they can’t wake him up.

Tomorrow morning they’re going to take him to the hospital and start running tests. We’ve got to find him before that. Who knows what they’d do to him?”

“Maybeck was caught,” Philby said. “And it wasn’t security. It was the Overtakers. It has to be.

Wayne said Maybeck’s our computer guy. We know he’s been poking around. The Overtakers don’t want him messing with the DHI server. The brownouts—our feeling lousy like this. That’s the server doing that. The Overtakers are trying to—”

“Kill us?” Finn said.

“Slow us down. Scare us away.” He didn’t sound convinced.

“Then I’d say it’s working,” Finn said.

“So where do we start? The apartment or the teepee?”

Finn looked past Philby at the glowing windows above the fire station. “Neither,” Finn said.

“Follow me.”

* * *

Finn climbed the stairs on the side of the firehouse two at a time.

“I should have thought of this before. He told me he lived here.”

“Who?”

Finn knocked on the door.

Wayne answered.

Philby and Finn were welcomed inside. It was a cozy room, all wood and brass, that felt like something from a ship.

Wayne wore a heavy wool sweater, khaki pants, and Mickey-and-Minnie slippers. There were books everywhere, and no television or even a radio. The bed was up in a loft in the very peak of the roof.

“Wow!” Philby said, looking around. There were Disney toys scattered around, antiques that went back decades. A fabric wallhanging showed off over a thousand Disney pins.

“I wondered how long it would take you to look me up,” Wayne said. It seemed almost as if he’d been expecting them. There were three teacups by the stove and three chairs set out facing one another.

Wayne poured them some tea and gestured for the two boys to sit down.

“Can you help us find Maybeck?” Finn asked.

“Was it Maleficent?” Philby asked.

Wayne’s eyebrows arched. He did not answer Philby directly. “What do you know about her?”

He had owl-like circles beneath his ice-blue eyes. He looked ominous and menacing now instead of like the silly old guy Finn had first thought him to be. He smiled thinly and said, “Amazing things happen when we put our minds to it. There is a saying that seeing is believing. But believing is seeing, as well. And touching. And hearing. Connecting.”

“The witch, Maleficent, has something to do with this,” Finn said. He told Wayne everything that had happened recently.

“Apparently she has everything to do with this,” Wayne agreed.

“The Overtakers,” Finn tested. “There are other Overtakers besides Maleficent.”

“Too many to count.”

“Like the pirates.”

“Worker bees, is all. The pirates don’t matter much. But you must underestimate nothing, no one. Conviction is the better part of intent. Few battles are won by strength alone. Cunning and knowing your resources can help you overpower the most powerful.”

“How do we stop Maleficent?” Philby asked anxiously. He sipped the tea, liked it, and drank some more.

“Don’t get ahead of yourselves,” Wayne said.

“Maybeck,” Finn said.

“They won’t want anyone to see him. Nor to hear him, should he call out,” Philby continued.

“Someplace dark and noisy,” Finn said.

“One of the attractions!” Philby said. “Like Pirates of the Caribbean! The pirates took him!”

“It’s not dark enough,” Finn said. “And where would they hide him?”

“On the boat, maybe,” Philby said.

“Possibly,” Wayne said, though his tone of voice suggested that he didn’t give the idea much credence.

“Well, listen, Obi-Wan,” Philby said sarcastically. “Why don’t you tell me and Luke here where to find him, and we’ll make for hyperspace.”

“Warmer,” Wayne said to Philby, though he engaged Finn with his eyes.

“Space Mountain,” Finn said. “Pitch-black and superloud.”

Philby sat forward excitedly. “Is he right? Is that where they’ve got him? Brilliant!”

Wayne sipped his tea, looking over the cup. “I have no idea where your friend is being kept.

It’s a big park. Very big.”

Finn thought for a moment and then said, “More important, it might be like the teepee inside there. A DHI shadow. That would make Maybeck invisible—easy to hide, to say the least.”

If Wayne knew any answers, his face revealed nothing.

“It’s a place to start,” Finn said. “We have to start somewhere.”

Wayne said, “They’re keeping you from solving the fable. You see that, don’t you? Distracting you.”

“And if we solve it?” Philby asked.

“When we solve it,” Finn said, looking right at Wayne.

“Rescue your friend. Solve the fable. Only then will we know what’s expected of you.”

Finn and Philby wouldn’t be entering Space Mountain through the front door. Wayne told them of a trap door that existed in the very top of the pointed dome roof. The roof hatch was used by Maintenance, and to his knowledge had never been locked.

If the boys could climb to the first level of the dome—about fifteen feet up—they’d reach a metal ladder that ran up the back of the dome to the pinnacle. From there, they could enter the ride’s interior.

At Wayne’s suggestion, the boys borrowed some ropes from the firehouse. They then snuck through shadows, carrying the heavy ropes over their shoulders, and reached the backside of the attraction.

Crouching in some bushes, looking at the steepness of the roof and the smal metal ladder that led to the top, Finn said, “The Overtakers have got to assume we’ll come for Maybeck.”

“But to them we’re kids, don’t forget.”

“They’ll have patrols. Cameras, maybe.”

“So when we do this, we do it quickly.”

The roof was shaped something like a magician’s hat, with a wide brim and a conical peaked crown. There were antennae on top.

Philby proved his climbing skills by tossing one of the ropes over a metal railing on the brim part of the roof. He tied it off. “We’re set,” he announced, waving Finn over.

Finn, who was not big on heights, shinnied up the rope. In short order he reached the brim of the roof. He threw a leg over and pulled himself up.

Philby followed silently and without incident.

They kept away from the edge of the roof, where they might be spotted, as Philby pulled up the rope and stashed it out of sight. Quickly they ascended the white metal ladder that ran to the peak. Attached to the roof, it ran at the same steep angle as the cone.

They reached the top, and sure enough, there was a metal trap door, exactly as Wayne had described it.

Finn reached for the handle and pulled. It lifted open. He peered down into a black square, completely void of light.

“Who’s going first?” Philby asked, his voice breaking.

Finn led the way down the metal ladder. Philby followed and they descended silenty. After a moment, Finn’s eyesight began to adjust. They were way up inside the pointy-hat part of the domed ceiling, a gigantic space that contained the entire Space Mountain roller coaster track. He made out a few red exit signs, but they were not bright enough to see by.

The track was a tangle of metal fringed by catwalks and supported by towering I-beams and steel columns. Finn felt as if he were inside a complicated clock. They reached a catwalk—a path that led along the roller coaster track, with a metal mesh floor—and followed it to a set of metal stairs leading down. This connected to another catwalk. Suddenly it felt as if they’d entered a maze.

“This is crazy,” Philby whispered. “The place is huge. Maybeck could be anywhere.”

“I’m not so sure about that,” Finn said. “Agreed, it’s huge, but look around. Where are you going to hide him?” Now that his eyes had fully adjusted, he could make out the size and scope of the complicated track. But it was all exposed and open—not a good place to hide someone.

“Hey!” Finn said, holding out his hand. Seeing his hand.

“Yeah,” Philby said, “I know.” But he moved his own arm around to show Finn that the metal broke up the imaging. His arm appeared to be in pieces, separated by black stripes. The DHI projection in here was spotty at best.

“You take that side,” he instructed Philby. “We’ll meet in the middle over there.” He pointed out a low spot in the ride where the track turned sharply left.

“If something goes wrong,” Philby cautioned, “we get out of here and meet at the apartment.”

“Got it.”

Finn descended yet another ladder and then followed a catwalk toward one of the exit signs, using it as a beacon. The catwalks reminded him of submarine movies.

If he were hiding someone, Finn thought, he’d stash his hostage close to where guests made the most noise—in a place where any shouts for help would likely go unheard. Finn searched the track overhead for just such a spot. Then he leaned over the rail of the catwalk and looked below.

Not far below him, and slightly to his left, he noticed an indistinct dark shape that, as he approached, he realized was geometric: a large rectangle. Now he recognized it as a booth or storage room. Like the catwalks, its walls were of heavy wire mesh. Finn climbed over the rail, lowered himself and dropped to a catwalk below. He reached out and touched the wire mesh—it was covered in a greasy dust that stuck to his fingers. It looked like a large garden shed, about six feet tall, ten feet deep, and fifteen feet long.

On the front of the shed a heavy canvas was hung that prevented Finn from seeing inside.

The canvas was tied down on the inside. Finn located the only door, which was wood-framed and also covered with wire mesh. He felt his way down the door and struck a piece of heavy metal: a padlock.

Locked out.

“Pssst!” Finn tried to signal Philby but got no answer. Finn looked around, off into the dark, realizing he’d completely lost track of his friend. He tried again. “Pssst!”

A muffled voice made him spin around: it was coming from inside the screened shed.

“Philby!” Finn tried again, a little louder. He heard the scuffle of feet.

“Mmms…hmmm…heggg…warfff,” said the muffled voice behind him.

“Maybeck? It’s me, Finn!” Finn struggled with the lock again, and then remembered: he didn’t need to unlock the door.

Finn closed his eyes and concentrated on his being made of light, nothing but light, and he walked through the wall, just as he’d swum through the water without feeling the effect of the current.

Once through, he realized how much darker it was inside the shed because of the canvas.

Finn felt his way around, stepping over boxes and coils and pieces of metal.

The muffled calls for help became more urgent.

“I’m right here,” Finn said, turning toward the sound.

Close by now, Finn squatted, felt around, and touched an arm.

He jumped back, fell over and knocked something loose, making a loud sound.

“Nnnnnnnn,” said Maybeck. Wiggling as he was, a piece of Maybeck’s DHI, his left side, suddenly showed. Finn lunged forward and untied the gag.

“Oh, man,” Maybeck said, the gag slipping off.

“You okay?”

“No, I’m famished! And I’m thirsty. But thank you, man, thank you!”

Finn untied Maybeck’s wrists and ankles.

Maybeck said, “Let’s book it.”

“We gotta find Philby. He’s in here someplace, looking for you too.”

Maybeck pulled on the locked door, but it didn’t budge. “But how’d you…?”

“Right through the wall,” Finn explained.

“That’s fine for you, but what about me? I can’t go through a dumb wall.”

“Sure you can.”

“No, I can’t.”

“You’re going to have to.”

Maybeck stared at the dark canvas and the locked door. “Are you telling me I could have just walked out of here all along?”

“Not if you’d convinced yourself you were trapped,” Finn replied.

Maybeck reached out. His hand struck the canvas.

“You’ve got to lose the attitude, Maybeck,” Finn instructed. “You’re only hitting that wallbecause you think that’s what’s supposed to happen.”

“I don’t have an attitude.” He waited for some support from Finn. “Do I?”

Finn demonstrated. First, he reached out and touched the canvas; then, he reached over a second time, and his hand and forearm passed right through up to his elbow.

“I do not have an attitude,” Maybeck repeated.

“Prove it,” Finn said. He was worried about the noise Philby was making trying to get over to the shed. The bumps and bangs seemed amplified in this echo chamber.

On Maybeck’s sixth try, he walked through the wallof the enclosure. Once on the other side, he bent over, as if in pain.

“You okay?” Finn asked.

Giddy with the accomplishment, Maybeck started giggling. “What a dumb jerk! I could have walked out of there all along.”

“Not with your hands tied. That rope is from this side. The rope would have stopped you from getting through the wall.”

Maybeck blurted out. “It was Jez.”

“What was Jez?”

“She called,” Maybeck said.

“Called your house,” Finn said, having figured out some of this on his own. “Last night, just before you crossed over.”

“Said she’d meet me.”

“When you checked your watch…” Finn said, speculating. “The line you fed us about having a hot date…You really did have a hot date.”

“I ditched the girls at It’s a Small World. We were going to meet—Jez and me—at the carousel. But all of a sudden I was so cold. I could barely move—like slow motion.”

“Yeah, cold,” Finn said. He was thinking: been there, done that.