The Lost Causes of Bleak Creek(29)

He could have walked into Thomble and Sons Hardware and bought a fire extinguisher with the Christmas money he still had stashed in his Thundercats Lion-O piggy bank, but given the scrutiny he and Leif were already under following the barbecue incident, Rex supposed that going to Travis, the volunteer fireman, was the wiser choice.

“Glad you’re here,” Travis said. Adopting a serious tone, he added, “You know, I ain’t supposed to share the tools of the trade with laymen like yourself. But I’m willin’ to make an exception for you. Now, whatta you need it for again?”

Even though he doubted Ben would actually kill them if the secret of his forest hideout was revealed, Rex still felt it was safest to honor the forest boy’s wishes. “Uh, we’re experimenting with some mild pyrotechnics,” Rex said as genuinely as he could.

“For PolterDog?” Travis asked.

“Uh, no. A new project. We had to stop working on PolterDog,” Rex said. “You know, because of Alicia.”

“She quit or somethin’?” Travis asked.

“She got sent to Whitewood,” Rex said, surprised he didn’t know.

“Oh, shoot, that was her?” Travis was crestfallen. “She was part of that group makin’ the movie? The ones who bumped Mr. Whitewood?”

“Yeah,” Rex said, confused. “That group was us, Travis.”

“What!” Travis’s eyes bugged out. “Oh, wow. That’s— I shoulda guessed when I heard the movie thing. Plus, you’d think I’da seen her at Whitewood.”

Rex’s knees weakened. “Why were you there?”

“Work there,” Travis said, putting his hands on the back of one of the folding metal chairs surrounding his dining room table, looking off into the distance pensively. “I cut the grass. Once a week. I like it there. It’s peaceful.”

“What is— What’s it like inside?” Rex asked. “You think Alicia’s gonna be okay?”

“I don’t go inside, but oh, yeah, she’ll be good,” Travis said, nodding. “It’s tough, sure, but it does right by kids. Mr. Whitewood is a great man.”

Hearing that Travis worked there and had no concerns about Alicia’s well-being was by far the most reassuring thing Rex had learned about the Whitewood School.

“So what’s the new movie?”

“Oh. It’s, uh, kind of experimental.”

“You mean, like, about chemistry or somethin’?”

Rex felt horrible lying to Travis, but it was just too easy. And necessary.

“Sort of. Yeah.”

“You boys are so dang creative. A chemistry movie. That sounds awesome!”

“Yep…”

“You sure you don’t just want me to come and keep an eye on things when you do the pyro?” Travis asked. “I live for that kinda stuff.” He leaned in and spoke in a whisper, “To tell you the truth, that’s why I’m a volunteer fireman. I love to watch stuff burn.” Catching himself, he said loudly, “Of course, I love puttin’ it out, too!”

“Uh, well I don’t think you’d find this too interesting. Just sparklers,” Rex said, adding another thread to his web of white lies.

“Hmm. Yeah. That ain’t really even fire.” Travis paused, looking at the fake-wood-paneled wall. “All right, lemme get it.”

Travis got up and walked through a bead curtain to the back of his trailer. Rex stood waiting, surveying Travis’s assortment of what looked to be about a hundred California Raisins figurines on the kitchen counter. There were lots of repeats. At least twenty of the one on the skateboard.

“They’re cool as hell, huh?” Travis said, returning with an ancient-looking fire extinguisher.

“Yeah, pretty cool,” Rex said.

“Smartest thing Hardee’s ever did. I wish they’d bring ’em back,” he said, shaking his head. “Anyway, here she is.” He extended the fire extinguisher to Rex.

“Thanks, Travis. I really appreciate this,” Rex said.

“My pleasure, buddy.”

When Rex pulled back onto the road, he realized he’d failed to account for how difficult it would be to ride a scooter while carrying a fire extinguisher. He also wondered if scooting across Bleak Creek with a firefighting device was actually more conspicuous than just buying one at the hardware store. But it was too late to turn back now. At least he didn’t have to go through town. He could get home by taking the slightly longer route on the dirt farm roads.

As Rex walked along holding the fire extinguisher like a baby, his now useless scooter slung over his shoulder, the handlebars bouncing off his lower back with each step, he was thankful Leif wasn’t around to point out the inefficiencies of his mode of transportation. He was also thankful he hadn’t run into anyone. He’d have to cross over Old Oak Road, but after that he’d be able to walk through the pine tree farm all the way to the back side of his neighborhood.

After he had walked for a half hour (and taken a dozen or so rest breaks for his weary arms), the sun was dipping behind the trees and Rex had almost made it to the road. Just ten steps more, and then across, and he’d be home free.

He heard the rumble of an engine.

Instinctively, he accelerated to a sprint, thinking he could make it across the road and into the pines before being seen. Midrun, he turned to look toward the headlights now cutting through the dusk. The roadside ditch was deeper than he expected, and his foot dropped suddenly, sending him into a tumble, the scooter flying over his head and skipping across the road. He caught himself before completely eating it, but not before he lost his grip on the fire extinguisher. The canister bounced off the asphalt, then rolled across the double yellow line.