Davy jolted up in bed drenched in a cold sweat from the nightmare he was experiencing. He felt disoriented and forgot where he was and what he had been doing. It took him a few moments to gather his wits about him.
"I need to lay off the horror flicks," he said slowing down his breathing.
Davy was so out of sorts when he woke up that he didn't notice that he had a piece of paper stuck to his forehead. He crossed his eyes in an attempt to read the note before ripping it off his face.
"Ouch! What lunatic duct tapes paper near someone's eyebrow?" he stated as he rubbed the spot hoping that he hadn't damaged his pristine appearance.
He glanced at the paper that was written in Peter's handwriting as he made his way downstairs:
Davy,
Went out for the day to run errands. Won't be back until later. Don't freak yourself out again.
-Peter
"Now didn't I tell that twit last night that we needed to go out in pairs? What if there's a crazed maniac on the loose?" Davy asked Mr. Schneider as he pulled his string.
"Talking to yourself is a sign of madness," the dummy replied.
"Well then, maybe I'm the crazed maniac," Davy sighed. "No Mike, no Peter, no Micky. What am I supposed to do with myself?"
He pulled the dummy's string once again, "Sometimes staying put is the best move you can make."
"No doubt about that!" Davy agreed. "No way I'm going out by myself with people going missing left and right…then again if I stay here am I a sitting duck?"
Davy was starting to work himself up into a panic. His chest began to heave with a rapid heartbeat and uneven breaths. His mind was racing into all kinds of possible scenarios; go out get kidnapped, stay home and risk someone breaking in or…
"That's it!"
Davy checked all the doors in the house and made sure things were securely locked. He pulled up two chairs (one for Mr. Schneider) to the large windows on the bandstand and pulled out binoculars.
"There now we can look for suspicious individuals and be on high alert," he said as he buffed out smudges on the binoculars on his Monkeeman cape (well you have to look the part).
"Paranoia is just another word for ignorance," Mr. Schneider replied when his string was pulled.
"Who asked you?" Davy said as he scanned the beach for shady characters.
The sun was beginning to set and the beach was virtually deserted. Davy had kept up his watch for hours only stepping away for necessity. He stood up and stretched.
"Our manor and its occupants are safe for another day," Davy said triumphantly as he inspected the living space. "That is if the other occupants are safe. I haven't heard from any of the fellas all day, besides Peter's note."
Anxiety started to creep in once again. Davy began to pace across the entirety of the ground floor of the house with his head down. He ran into the staircase and stumbled backward falling onto the floor.
"This is ridiculous! I'm working myself up over nothing," Davy berated himself. "I'm going to hurt myself jumping to conclusion. I need some relaxation, something to take my mind off of things."
Davy switched on the TV and turned on some cartoons. "There that oughta get my mind off of crime." He settled in on the couch and made himself comfortable.
"We interrupt this program to bring you the latest information on the missing persons' cases…" a familiar newscaster broke in.
"Oh c'mon now," Davy complained flinging his head back and rolling his eyes.
"Witnesses have come forward and described a man that was the last known person to be a few of the victims prior to disappearing…"
Davy sat up straighter and leaned forward to hear better.
"Witnesses describe the man as Caucasian, approximately 5'10, brown eyes, dirty blond hair, between the ages of 18-24…"
"Sounds a little like Peter. It's got to be a coincidence."
"…the term long-haired weirdo has been a frequent descriptor amongst witnesses. Be on the lookout for suspicious men matching this description. For the latest…"
Davy tuned out the rest of the newscast as his head began swimming with the information that was just presented to him. Could Peter be responsible for committing crimes? Sweet, innocent, wouldn't hurt a fly Peter?
"That's preposterous! Sure the description sounds like Peter and there are plenty of people around that could match it. Plus that person was only seen with the people, nothing more. Furthermore, no one is positive as to what actually happened to these people. I'm all worried over…"
Davy's train of thought was disrupted by the sound of someone slamming into the front door. He let out a small whimper and reached for the nearest item that could be used as a weapon. He tiptoed towards the door with Mike's gavel in tow. He attempted to look through the peephole to no avail.
"Davy! Let me in!" Peter yelled. "Why is the door locked?"
Davy relented and unlocked the door opening it up to a haggard looking Peter.
"Sorry, Mate. I didn't notice the door was completely locked," Davy lied.
"How could you not know? The door is never locked, so you would have to have locked it," Peter questioned.
"Where have you been all day?" Davy asked ignoring the question.
"Didn't you get my note?"
"Of course I got it. You taped it to my forehead while I was sleeping," Davy acknowledged. "I'm wondering why you are out and about without checking in when it is obviously unsafe out there."
"You're still hung up on that? That movie must have made some impression."
"It's not the movie, it's the news. Anyway, what have you been up to?"
"I told you in the note, errands."
"All day errands? Mysterious ones at that."
"Look I don't need the third degree every time I come home because you are insecure about your safety. I don't need to tell you my every waking move. You aren't my mother."
"You're right, Peter," Davy apologized feeling silly about how ridiculous he sounded.
"Man, its okay. Just relax a bit."
Suddenly a thought struck Davy. "I haven't heard from Mike or Micky all day. Do you think they're okay? Aren't they potentially coming back today?"
"Glad to see you're settling down with your worries," Peter rolled his eyes. "As a matter of fact, I talked to them earlier. And they said that due to Micky interference, it will be longer than expected."
"What interference?"
"Mike didn't say and I can only imagine what happened."
"How did you talk to them when you haven't been home all day?"
"I talked to Mike before I left. You were sleeping pretty late when I left, you know."
Davy stared at his friend curiously. It wasn't in his nature to be so distrustful of his friends, but he didn't know what to believe anymore. He watched as Peter settled into returning for the day.
"I see you've kept both shoes today, that's a…what happened to your arm?"
Peter stared down at a long gash on his forearm that was covered up with a bandage. He sighed with annoyance. "You know I didn't ask you this many questions about your day…I ran into something a scraped my arm, alright?"
"That looks like more than a scrape."
"Well, it's no big deal," Peter snapped. "Listen, it's been a long day and I just want to go to bed. We can talk more about this tomorrow, if you need to know so badly."
"Okay, goodnight," Davy relented warily.
Peter ascended the stairs and loudly closed the bedroom door.
Now Davy was alone with his thoughts. That was not in his best interest.
