Chapter 20

Pauly

I went out of my mind. I'd geniunely lost it. And I didn't even care. I like, maybe even love, Edgar Frog. Eddie the Grouch. The Frog Prince. I was nuts about him. That was why I had really broken up with Jack. It was why I'd used that 'random act' excuse. It was why, all through junior high, I'd gone out of my way to draw his ire. In some sick, elementary-school way, I'd picked at his feelings to get his attention. And somehow, I knew he felt the same way. He just wouldn't get it through his thick skull. So, in a moment of desperation, I ended up where I was now: in a booth at Cosmic Casey's, across from Alan.

"So," Alan said. "You made out with Edgar in the stockroom."

"Hypothetically," I corrected. Well, maybe not so hypothetically, but Alan didn't need to know that yet.

"Hypothetically, you two swapped spit in the stockroom," Alan said.

"Yes. Hypothetically."

"You're using the wrong word here," he said. "I believe you mean literally."

"Let's go with hypothetically for now," I continued. "What should I do know?"

"I'm not seeing the problem," Alan said. "Just keep everything under wraps until after prom, and we'll all be cool."

I sighed. "The problem is that he came on to me," I said. "But he hasn't called or anything, even though I told him to."

"So, wait," Alan asked. "He made out with you, and..."

"Now, I'm not sure if we're speaking or not," I said.

"Just tell him you love him or something, and then take your top off," Alan said. "That works pretty well in the movies."

"What the hell kind of movies have you seen with that in them," I asked. "And, besides, this isn't a movie. And I'm not exactly Phoebe Cates."

"Man, that reminds me," Alan said. "I think my VHS copy of Fast Times at Ridgemont High is overdue."

"Can we focus on the issue at hand," I snapped. "I mean, friends, dating, or whatever, this whole vampire slaying mission thing is mildly at stake. No pun intended."

"I'll sort him out, okay," Alan said.

"What does that consist of?"

"I'll interrogate him. Make him crack."

"How is that a good idea," I asked. "Won't he just get more angry?"

"Nah," Alan said. "We both really cherish these moments."

I narrowed my eyes. "Fine," he admitted. "He'll be pissed, at first. But at me, not at you. And once I sort him out, he'll be a puddle of emotion and hormones and crap."

"That sounds really disgusting," I said.

"Really? I thought that was kind of romantic, in an obscure, alternative kind of way," Alan said.

"Don't go into poetry," I said.

"Do you want my help or not," he asked.

"I want you to tell me what I should say," I said. "Not make things worse by putting in your five cents."

"I've done all I can," Alan said. "I'm still going to talk to him. And I think you take my suggestions to you should do under serious advisement."

"I'm not taking my top off," I said firmly.

"You wear bras as shirts half the time anyway," Alan pointed out. "It would just be a step further. You know, taking things from Victoria's Secret to Playboy."

I glared at him. "Fine, fine," Alan said. "Just don't act like I didn't try to be helpful."

Once again, I had to walk home alone. At least it was daytime, only four. Lately, I've made a concentrated effort to never be alone after seven PM. Now that I knew why Santa Carla was so dangerous, I was more afraid than ever before. Us citizens weren't targets for some deranged psychos. We were food for all too intelligent monsters. Despite the sun's position in the sky, I still hurried back home. After all, it was just cloudy enough for any of the Bloodsuckers to pop up. Thankfully, despite my paranoia, I made it home safely. "I'm home," I yelled.

"Good," Mother yelled back. "Is Jeremy with you?"

"No," I said.

"He told us you were taking him to the comic shop," Daddy said. I rushed back into the kitchen. Mother was calmly flipping through a tabloid while Daddy fidgeting his fingers on the table.

"Did you see him," Daddy asked.

"Obviously, she got stoned and she lost him," Mother said. "That's why she doesn't remember going out with him."

"I didn't leave the house with him," I said firmly. "And I don't get stoned."

"I should hope not," Daddy said vehemently. "So you're saying he lied to us?"

"I guess," I said.

"Alison," Daddy barked. "Call some his friends' parents. Pauly, do you know where he might have gone?"

"Maybe to the Boardwalk," I said.

"Go look there," Daddy said. "If you don't find him, and he doesn't come home by eleven tonight, I'm filing a missing persons report."

"You can't do that," Mother gasped. "It would be such an embarrassment. People would think I can't run this household."

"Well, you can't," Daddy snapped. "So get to dialing."

"I'm going to go look," I told Daddy. "How long has he been gone?"

"Since eight this morning," Daddy said.

I bit my lip. I couldn't believe it. He had to have slipped up. Jeremy must have lied and went to see an R-rated movie or something. It couldn't be what I was thinking in the back of my head: that if the Bloodsuckers couldn't get me, they'd settle for my little brother. He wasn't on any of the roller coasters. I didn't see him on any water rides, or at the carousel, or on the beach. He wasn't even in the arcade or the video store. Since I suspected vampire activity, I needed the Frogs as backup. Besides, the haunted house, was all that was left. I already hated that place, especially the thought of braving it alone. If any of those ghouls were hiding in the darkness, three was definitely better than one. I took a deep breath and walked into the comic shop. Alan was behind the register, while Edgar was sitting on the floor with his back against a shelf, flipping through a Batman comic.

"Guys," I said. I could hear my own voice tremble on that one word as they both looked.

Edgar rose and raced over to me. "What happened," he asked. "Did you see one of the Bloodsuckers again? Did you see them kill someone? Did they bite you? Are you one of them now?"

"No," I said. "They just- I just...no one knows where Jeremy is. And I-I think it has something to do with David. I'm really scared."

"So, where are we going," Alan asked.

"The last place I thought of was the haunted house. I've checked everywhere else," I said. "If we can't find him...I don't know what else to think of. You guys haven't seen him, right?" They both shook their heads forlornly. "I guess we should go, then," I said. "I mean, what else can we do?"

"I guess you're right,". Edgar admitted. "Come on, Alan. Let's go."

The walk, as short as it was, was incredibly awkward. I walked in between Alan and Edgar, and every time I merely brushed hands with Edgar, we shot each other a look. He seemed annoyed, nervous, and maybe even contrite. Alan kept conversation moving until we got into the haunted house's line.

"So, what's the plan," I asked. "We shouldn't split up, I don't think. If this is David-related, it would only help him pick us off, one by one." Edgar nodded.

"Yeah," Alan agreed. "We better stick together. At least at first. If we can't find, we might have to look seperately."

"I always hated this place," I murmured to myself.

"Why," Edgar asked. "It's just a hokey walkthrough."

"E.T's scarier than this," Alan put in.

"It gives me the creeps," I confessed. "I don't know why, but it does."

"You know vampires exist, and this still gives you the creeps?"

"What can I say," I asked with a shrug. Edgar rolled his eyes, but as the line crept toward the door, he grabbed my hand.

"Come on," he muttered. "Let's go find Jeremy."

I looked at him, but he avoided my gaze, still clutching my hand in his fist. Trust me when I say that was a lot sexier than it sounded. At the door, we were greeted with that familiar Vincent Price cackle - not that the house owners actually paid royalties for it. Edgar and I strided in behind Alan. I turned my head to look at the line, but there was no sign of Jeremy behind us. I had scanned the line before we joined it, so he hadn't gotten in before us. Kids were known to hide inside the house, or goof off in the few empty rooms, so there was still hope left. I gave a brief perfunctory scan of the decrepit first floor as we traveled forward. Then the first scare appeared: a skeleton animatronic popped out from behind the stairwell. At least, I hoped it was an animatronic. Rumor had it that a real corpse was somewhere inside the house - and if there was, I didn't want to find out. Besides, it could have been one of the costumed scare actors. I didn't get a close enough look.

"Let's check that room," Alan suggested, pointing to a closed door adjacent to the stairwell. We went over there and Edgar flung the door open. It was just another scare room, with a flickering chandelier and a automated piano. I sighed in frustration, and walked out.

"Any other rooms here," I asked. "I don't remember. I haven't come since fourth grade."

"Not that go anywhere," Alan said. "There's a lot of phony ones. I think it's to trick little kids who are already trying to run out."

"That's so mean," I gasped. "Like, what somebody's having a panic attack or something?"

"Then they shouldn't have come in," he said matter-of-factly.

"But sometimes they get forced to," I pointed out. "My mom literally pushed me in here once."

"Jesus," Edgar said. "How has Child Services not gotten rid of her yet?"

"She's still married to my dad," I pointed out. "And our closest relative is her mother. The person that made her how she is. Not an appealing option."

"Oh," he said. He took his thumb and rubbed the palm of my hand with it.

"That's why we have to find Jeremy," I said. "The kid keeps me relatively sane. I like to think I do the same for him."

"Come on," he whispered into my ear. "Let's go upstairs then."

"Okay," I murmured.

"Awwwww," Alan cooed.

"What," we snapped.

"Young love," he teased.

"Shut up, Alan," Edgar murmured. "We're going."

We walked up the creaky staircase, where some unrecognizable animals ran up and down past our ankles. "If those are real rats, I will vomit," I muttered.

"If you do, aim for Alan's sneakers," Edgar suggested under his breath.

"I heard my name," Alan said. "What are you guys talking about?"

"Oh, just how attractive and awesome you are," I snarked.

"Good," Alan said. "Don't let me distract you from our goal, though."

"I wouldn't dare," I shot back. As we reached the second floor, one of the scare actors screamed right in Alan's ear, and he actually fell over.

"So, E.T.'s scarier than this ride," I repeated deadpan, as I helped him up.

"They've amped things up a bit," Alan said. "It wasn't that scary a year ago."

"I see a kid," Edgar yelled, getting my attention. "Same hair color, same height..."

We watched as the boy turned around and groaned. "Not Jeremy," I said. "Let's keep looking."

I turned around myself and felt something brush my shoulder. "Edgar," I asked turning my head. Instead, I was faced with a transparent man, wearing denim cutoffs and a 70s style plaid button up. He had curly blond hair, big blue eyes, and a boyish face. Probably a UC Santa Carla student. "Cool costume," I commented sharply. "Or is it special effects?"

My words caused the Frogs to turn around and stare. "Whoa," Alan said, "cool lighting."

"Look," I snapped. "Did you see a kid? Brown hair and eyes, about ten years old? Button nose, I guess you could say, and about yeigh high?"

I gestured about five inches down from Edgar's shoulder, which seemed about right. "Pauly, your brother went home," the 'ghost' told me.

"How do you know that," I snapped. "How do you know who am I asking about? In fact, how do you know what my name is?"

"My name is Eric," he said. "I'm your father."