Chapter 14 everyone! Enjoy! By the way, if anyone finds this confusing don't hesistate to e-mail me and I shall explain everything.
"Lonna, I've got to go. Please don't make it harder than it already is."
"But Travis, sweety, why? It's because I'm pregnant isn't it? You don't love me anymore because I'm fat." Lonna said.
"No, honey, no. I just...I have to go take care of some things." Said Travis Bridger, hugging his wife.
He jumped onto the bus. As it began to drive off, Lonna Bridger stood there, alone in the rain, sobbing. Travis Bridger never came back. Lonna vowed when her son, Napoleon, was born she would hate him. He had driven away her love. Even now, sixteen years later, as Lonna Leep sat in the abnormally small car with her new husband, she still hated her son beyond compare. He had ruined her life, so she ruined his.
Lonna no longer had long auburn hair. It had been shaved off, all of it, so that she could have twelve stitches put in the back of her head. Another reason for her to hate her son. No, not hate, she loathed her son. When she found him, wherever he was hiding, she would kill him. It was beginning to drive her mad. His smug face, constantly messy blond hair, always running around in his bare feet, like he was higher than the rest of Coconut Cove. Just thinking of him made her mad now.
"Lonna, dear, you and Napoleon really need to end this pointless feud. You can't make your son go away, no matter how much you may hate him." Said Leon Leep.
"I ain't letting him come home, if that's what you mean. That little brat ruined my life." Snapped Lonna.
"He ruined your life? By being born? How is that his fault?" Leon asked.
Lonna was silent. She couldn't think of an answer.
"It's not his fault and you know it. You know what I think, Lonna? I think you hate him so because you hate Travis. And every time you look at Napoleon you see him. You just wanted someone to take your anger out on, didn't you?" Leon asked.
Lonna scowled. Though Leon was a lazy slob, when it really came down to it he was incredibly good at figuring people out.
"It doesn't matter why I hate him. I still do and that ain't gonna change. He's a menace to societ-"
"He is only what he has been raised as." Leon cut over her.
Lonna could not counter that statement. Leon was right. The only reason she hated her son was because she needed someone to take out her anger on.
Karen Kresc sat at her computer desk. She was doing some work on his computer when suddenly, she got an anonymous e-mail with a video attachment. She opened it to find that it was a surveillance tape that had been recorded that morning. It showed John talking to Donald Viseige, there was no sound but she could tell that John was agitated.
"He lied. He did see John this morning." Karen muttered.
Then suddenly, Viseige pulled out a needle and jabbed it into the President's arm. Karen gasped. The tape ended with Viseige stuffing the President into a nearby closet.
"Oh my god." Karen whispered.
She got up and hurried across the room. She turned the handle on her office door, but it didn't move. She jiggled it.
No! She thought frantically.
She banged on the door. "SOMEBODY! ANYBODY! HELP, I'M TRAPPED IN HERE!" She shrieked.
Nobody answered. And nobody would, Karen Kresc's office was in the quietest section of the building, no one was ever walking past her office. She ran over to her phone on her desk and picked it up. No dial tone. She reached for her cell phone but found that it wasn't in her pocket. Then she remembered, Donald wasn't coming on to her in the hallway, he had stolen her phone!
Beatrice and Roy were in Roy's room, quickly packing a bag. Mr. Eberhardt had come home to say that there had been an evacuation order and that they were leaving. Beatrice was pale.
"What's going to happen to Mullet? What if he's hurt somewhere? He'll die!" She said shakily.
"He'll be alright, Beatrice, he always is." Said Roy.
"But his ankle, he had a really bad cut on it, he couldn't walk properly. He needed stitches but he wouldn't go." Said Beatrice, her voice getting higher.
"We'll meet up with him soon, I promise." Said Roy.
Though he wasn't sure if he could keep that promise. He too was worried about his friend. Being a runaway in a hurricane is bad. Being a runaway who's dressed in shorts, bare feet and has a badly injured ankle in a hurricane was worse.
Roy's parents began shouting for them to hurry up. Beatrice and Roy rushed downstairs and straight into the car. Before they knew it, they were moving in the slow traffic down the streets. The stopped outside the junkyard, someone up ahead had been in an accident. Mr. Eberhardt turned the engine off; it was going to be a long wait. Beatrice was looking out the window. Roy tried to see if she was looking at anything in particular. Then he saw it too. Underneath an old boat in the junkyard, face flat on the ground, was Mullet Fingers's clearly visible blond hair. Without thinking, Roy and Beatrice both jumped out of the car, ignoring Mr. Eberhardt's shouts and ran to the aid of Beatrice's stepbrother.
Mullet Fingers was sitting in Trav's shack. Trav was making some coffee.
"Hey Trav, I've got a question." Mullet Fingers said.
"And I likely have an answer." Trav said.
"I know this place isn't a dream but...I can't remember how I got here." Said Mullet Fingers.
"It's difficult to explain. Hm, you see, it's not exactly your body here, more your conscience." Said Trav.
"My conscience?" Mullet Fingers asked.
"Indeed, you see, your body is, at the moment, lying under a boat in the middle of a hurricane. You are dead. Or at least, if you were taken to a hospital right now and examined by a doctor, he would say you're dead." Trav explained.
"What? How can I be dead if I'm right here?" Mullet Fingers asked.
"Feel your heart." Trav said.
Mullet Fingers did so. But there was no heartbeat. "This place is on the thin line between life and death. One cannot come here if they are completely dead. In other words, if they are not a believer." Said Trav.
"A believer? You mean like a religious person? Cause I sure ain't religious-"
"No, not that kind of believer. One who believes that overcoming the impossible is a simple deed. You proved yourself by saving those burrowing owls. You overcame, what everyone else believed to be, the impossible. You are special." Said Trav.
"So, this place does exist then?" Mullet Fingers asked.
"Let me ask you, if a tree falls in the forest, and no one is around to hear it, will make a sound?" Trav asked.
"I dunno, I didn't go to school." Said Mullet Fingers.
"You do not need to be a school student to know that there is no answer to that question. So now I ask you this. If you believe a place exists, but others tell you it doesn't and soon you grow to believe is doesn't exist as well. Tell me, will this place still exist?" Trav asked quickly.
"Well...yeah, I guess. I mean, just cause one person doesn't believe in it doesn't mean it's not there." Said Mullet Fingers.
"Exactly. So, if you believe in this place then yes, it will always be real. But if you do not believe then you won't be able to come here. May have lost their lives because of that." Said Trav.
"I won't, I'll always believe in this place." Said Mullet Fingers.
Suddenly, a girl's voice filled the room. "Mullet, please! Please don't be dead, please! Wake up!" She cried.
It was Beatrice's voice. "Ah. Already your belief in this place is wavering. It doesn't matter if you tell yourself it's real, it's natural that you lose belief in it as you age." Said Trav.
"C'mon, buddy, wake up!" Came Roy's voice.
Mullet Fingers was looking frantically around. "Where are they?" He demanded.
Trav got up and pulled back the curtains on a window. "Look." He said.
Mullet Fingers looked out the window. It was pouring rain. His lifeless body was in the arms of Beatrice, who was crying. Roy was kneeling next to her looking scared. Mullet Fingers ran to the door, swung it open and ran outside. FLASH! He landed back on the bed in Trav's shack.
"You cannot leave here yet." He said.
"But they think I'm dead! Lemme see them!" Mullet Fingers shouted.
"If I send you back now, you realize that you will never be able to return?" Trav asked.
"What?" Mullet Fingers asked.
"If you leave here so abruptly and are immediately back with your friends when you awaken, you will forget all about this place and never be able to return." Said Trav.
Mullet Fingers hesitated, then said "Fine, whatever it takes to be with my friends." He said.
Trav grinned. "And that is the very reason you were ever able to come here in the first place. I have one last thing to tell you before you leave. Listen carefully; everything that has happened is tied together. We will meet again, in your world next time, and when we do I will have a lot I need to tell you. Until then..."
Karen Kresc was ramming her door with her desk chair. The doors in the White House seemed impossible to break. She was about to hit it for the fourth time when suddenly, it burst open and John Kresc, accompanied by ten Secret Service agents entered.
"John!" She exclaimed, running forward and hugging her husband "It was Donald, he did this!"
"I know, he got away on my chopper, we'll get him, don't worry." Said the President.
"Didn't you have to get to Florida? What's happening, John?" The First Lady asked.
"There's a young boy in danger there. I consider him very important. But I bought some more time, Hank is down there he's going to make sure the boy's okay." Said Kresc.
"Bought some more time? What do you mean, John? You aren't still going down there are you?" Karen asked.
"I am, but I'm taking Air Force One, I've arranged an emergency take off. I'm headed to the airport right after this." Said Kresc.
"John, there's a hurricane! You can't fly a plane there! Let alone land it!" Karen exclaimed.
"We're arranging a pick-up outside the hurricane area, don't worry. I'm sorry, Karen, I've really got to run. I'll talk to you tonight." Said the President before running off with his security detail.
Mullet Fingers opened his eyes. He was lying on the cold, wet ground. Beatrice was kneeling over him, tears streaming down her face. She let out a little shriek when he awoke and threw her arms around him. Roy, who kneeling by him too, also looked a little teary, though he'd never admit it.
"Don't you ever do that to me again!" Beatrice cried.
Mullet Fingers grinned. "Don't worry, Bea, I don't plan on it." He croaked.
His stepsister hugged him so tightly that it was cutting off circulation from his head.
"I was scared...really scared." She whispered.
"Beatrice..." Mullet Fingers said.
She stopped hugging him and then she and Roy helped him get to his feet. He suddenly became aware that he ankle was throbbing and bleeding. They helped him walk back to the road, but found that Mister and Misses Eberhardt's car was gone. They must have been ushered ahead. The three were beginning to wonder what to do when suddenly someone called them over. He was very tall, dressed in a black suit, had a shiny bald head and a pierced ear. He was holding an umbrella over his head.
"Is one of you Mullet Fingers?" The man asked.
"He is." Said Beatrice, pointing to her stepbrother.
The man pulled out a badge. "Hank Hartman, Secret Service. I've got orders from the President himself to pick up a runaway boy named Mullet Fingers...and any who accompany him." Said the man.
"The President? Why does the President give a dang about what happens to me?" Mullet Fingers asked.
"President Kresc said that the two of you were friends, that you'd met before." Said Hartman.
"What? I've never even seen the guy. Unless...no way. Was...was the President in Coconut Cove on the weekend?" Mullet Fingers asked.
"I heard so, yes." Said Agent Hartman.
"You're kidding me." Said Mullet Fingers.
"Mullet, what is it?" Beatrice asked.
"The President...I've met him."