Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Three

If I could, I would erase every second of the trip out of Uncle Junk's trash cannon from my memory. The darkness, the razor sharp winds that tore at me every inch of the way up, the feeling of being slapped by a thousand different varieties of whatsit—and more than everything else, the smell. I swear on the whoopee cushion in the sky that if smells could kill, my ghost's ghost's ghost would have been knocked dead from just a whiff of it. An avalanche of indescribable stenches straight from the chamber pot of H.P. Lovecraft's worst nightmares was clawing its way up my nostrils, violating my sinuses, staining my frontal lobe so that I'd never be rid of it no matter how many times I blew my nose.

When we exploded—literally—out of the trash can in my kitchen, the pure nothingness in the air smelled as sweet as apple pie.

Ethan went first, rocketing out of the trash can fast enough to smack his head on the ceiling before collapsing limply to the floor. I followed a split second later, my upper body sliding easily through the smooth plastic tube…and then coming to a dead stop.

"Salami waffles!" I cursed as the trash can teetered and then crashed onto its side, with me still in it. My corn fritter turkey sandwich pickled hobo thumbs in toe jam horsebutt was too big to fit through the trash can!

"Where are we?" Ethan moaned, rubbing his skull where the ceiling had clocked him.

My legs—all four of them—were dangling over the void on the other side of the trash portal, but no matter how hard I kicked, squirmed, and pushed I couldn't get out!

"Are we…home?" Ethan asked. An ugly red bump was forming on his head. "Am…Am I…"

"No, you’re not dead!" I snapped. "Do you feel that pounding ache in your skull? That's your body telling you you're still alive and you need to help get your friend out of this freaking trash can!"

Ethan looked at me, his eyes unfocused, and then blinked a few times. Finally, he shook his head and grabbed my hands, heaving backwards with all his might.

"Ow, ow, ow," I complained as my spine did its best silly putty impression.

After a minute, Ethan dropped my hands and gasped for breath, my stupid horsebutt not an inch closer to freedom than before.

"I don't know if you'll be able to fit," he panted. "You might have to go back down."

"I am never going through that horror show again!"

Ethan's necklace began to glow, and Jade reemerged from it.

"How nice of you to join us," I sneered.

She shrugged. "No sense in all three of us rolling around in the muck."

"I don't think she's coming out," Ethan said, immediately turning his attention to Jade like always, "and she doesn't want to go back down. What do you think?"

"If she won't go back, then she might have to stay like this forever," Jade said with a little smile.

To my horror, Ethan smiled too. "That's not a bad idea! Her arms are free, and we could put the trash can on a skateboard so she could—"

"This is not the time for jokes!" I yelled. "My brother is going to die if I don't do something, and you're standing there making fun of me!"

"Henry, relax," Jade laughed. "The pill only works for twenty four hours. Once you change back, you'll be able to fit."

I paused, then breathed a sigh of relief. She was right. I just had…I checked my watch…twenty one hours to go.

"Henry?" a voice called from farther in the house. "Ethan? Is that you?"

I gasped, my heart leaping into my throat. I’d forgotten about Mom and Dad!

"Hide me!" I whispered urgently.

"Why?" Ethan whispered back.

I could hear their footsteps coming down the hallway, closer to the kitchen. Jade disappeared back into her gem with a green flash.

"Mom and Dad can't know I'm here!" I insisted. "If they tell Grandpa Teddy where I am, he’ll drag me back to the hospital!”

Ethan thought for a second, and then lifted my trash can so it was standing upright again. Then, grabbing the trash bag's drawstrings, he yanked on them and closed the bag over my head.

"Ethan?" Mom asked a split second later.

I held my breath.

"Oh, uh, hey, Mrs. Rider," Ethan said. All I could see of him was a faint shadow on the other side of the trash bag, but I could hear the sweat running down his face. "W…What's up?"

"Is Henry here?" my dad asked, stepping into the kitchen. "I could have sworn I heard her voice."

"She's supposed to be in the hospital," Mom added.

"Nope!" Ethan yelped, sounding like a dog whose tail had been stepped on. "J- Just me!"

"How did you get home without Henry?"

"I…took the IW?"

No, you idiot! I thought, grinding my teeth. Don't say that!

"You did?" Dad asked. "How did you cut the—"

"Honey, we need to go," Mom cut him off. "Our IW leaves in ten minutes!"

"Dang it, you're right!" Dad exclaimed. "Ethan, we're going to be gone overnight. Will you be okay by yourself?"

I let out a sigh of relief that could have filled a hot air balloon.

"Yes!" Ethan said, sounding a bit too eager. Luckily, Mom and Dad were in enough of a hurry that they didn't notice.

"There's leftovers in the fridge!" Mom shouted from the entryway. "Call us if you need anything!"

Then the door slammed shut, and we were alone in the house.

"I have faced maiams, dragons, and mind controlled psychos," Ethan said as he opened the trash bag up again, "but none of that scared me as much as lying to your parents just now."

"Try imagining how hurt they'd be if you told them the truth," I said, raising my head out of the trash can. "That usually works for me."

I tried one more time to squeeze myself through the narrow plastic tube, but my equinie heinie stubbornly refused to budge. I glanced at the fridge. Maybe I could use some butter to lube myself up and slide out of here. No, I would need about three tons of butter to cover my entire horse-half. Everyone in my family loved butter, but even we didn’t keep that much on hand.

Jade was right. The spell would only last the rest of the day, then I could get back to finding Con. But until that happened, was I just supposed to sit here and hope Cousin Gumdrop didn’t get to him first?

“Ethan!” I snapped, making him jump. “Give me your phone!”

“Who are you calling?” Jade asked, reappearing as Ethan handed it over.

“Con,” I answered, dialing his number. “If I can’t get to him, I can at least warn him about Cousin Gumdrop.”

I held the phone to my ear, hooking my other arm over the edge of the trash can to keep from sliding back down, and listened to it ring. Please pick up. Please pick up. Please…

A familiar voice came from the other end. “This is Conrad Rider.”

“Con!” I gasped in relief. “It’s me, Henry! Listen, you need to—”

“If you’re hearing this, then I’m still asleep in my coffin,” he went on, almost like he hadn’t heard me. “Leave me a message and I’ll call you back after the sun goes down!”

“Son of a scrambled egg!” I screamed. I raised the phone to throw it against the wall, but Ethan rushed forward to grab it from me before I could. “It’s his freaking voicemail!”

“Henry, you need to calm down!” Ethan said, stuffing his phone back into his pocket. “You’re not helping anybody by getting all worked up like this.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I sneered. “Am I not allowed to be upset that my brother is being hunted down by a psychopath?”

He sighed. “Of course you’re allowed to be upset. But you can’t—

DING DONNNNG!

All three of us froze, our eyes turning to the door in perfect unison.

“Don’t tell me that’s your magic mail slot thing,” Ethan muttered. “There’s no way you can fight a maiam like this.”

“No, that’s our real doorbell,” I said, shaking my head. Then I gasped. “Maybe it’s Con!”

“Con wouldn’t ring the doorbell to get into his own house,” Jade said, narrowing her eyes. “And something tells me it isn’t girl scouts either.”

Sharing a look with Jade, Ethan drew the spellhammer. Then, with cautious steps, he approached the door. I reached for Splatsy—asparagus muffins, she was stuck in the trash dimension with my horsebutt!

Ethan put his hand on the doorknob, then turned to Jade. They nodded once, like they were some kind of SWAT team, and then he threw the door open.

He froze. Jade was silent. I tried to stretch my neck high enough to see who was there, but the two of them were blocking my view.

"You!" Ethan exclaimed, taking a startled step backwards and raising his spellhammer protectively.

And then I saw our visitor.

My blood turned to ice with fear, and then the ice melted when a fire of rage sprang up in my heart.

It…

Was…

HER!

The one who had started all of this. The one Con had gone to meet at the park that night. The one who had really committed the murders that my brother was being hunted like an animal for.

Paura, the female ghul.

I exploded out of the trash can, raining shards of broken plastic all over the kitchen. My hooves made a sound like thunder as they beat against the floor.

"Henry, stop!" Ethan yelled, holding up a hand. I ignored him. "You–

"Where," I yelled, drawing Splatsy, "is my brother?"

Then my forehead slammed into the doorframe. Turns out, having your butt turn into a horse can make you taller.

I really need to start paying attention to things like that, I thought as the world went dark.