Castles and Cowards
One night, Jimmy and Oscar stumble upon something strange at the ruins of Blackgaard’s Castle. Should they continue to investigate? Or would it be better to leave well enough alone?
A chill wind blew through Jimmy’s hair, scattering yellow leaves far across the parking lot. The last few cars were pulling away, headlights blazing. He sat on his bike, under a streetlamp. Around him, the darkness was growing.
“Come on, Oscar,” muttered Jimmy to himself. “What’s taking so long?”
The Fall Festival had been a success. It was all thanks to Mr. Whittaker’s friend, Mr. Reginald Duffield. At first Jimmy was a little nervous to play a girl, but the audience loved his overdramatic performance as Juliet. Well, everyone except Rodney. But that was no surprise. He always was a jerk.
Jimmy strapped on his bike helmet. He had been ready to leave ages ago, but Oscar had gone back inside to get something. Jimmy leaned forward on his bike. The front tire could use some air. He reached for his bike pump, but . . . it was gone. He must have left it at home.
The school door opened with a creak. Out stepped a short figure, wrapped in a dark coat. It turned towards Jimmy, striding in his direction. The door slammed shut.
“Sorry it took so long!” said Oscar, coming into the light of the streetlamp.
“It’s pitch-black already,” said Jimmy. “What’d you even go back for?”
“My pocketknife. I took it off for the play. But now I can’t find it. I think maybe Rodney swiped it.”
“Uh-huh. Or you just lost it, again.”
“Hey, stealing happens, even in Odyssey. My dad said shoplifters took some stuff from Finneman’s Market the other day.”
“What stuff? Was Mr. Finneman selling your pocketknife?”
Oscar got up on his bike. “I just want to go home.”
“Right after you, Oscar.”
The boys biked out of the school parking lot and down the street. It was dark now, except for the light of the streetlamps. They shone like glowing eyes in a sea of blackness. The wind came in cold bursts. It sounded like the breath you exhale, right before you go to sleep.
“How do you think the play went?” asked Jimmy.
“The play?” said Oscar, panting slightly. “It was great. We were a hit!”
“Even though I played a girl?”
“That’s what made it funny!”
“Yeah.” Jimmy smiled. “You don’t think they were laughing at me, do you?”
“‘Course not. Maybe Rodney was. What was that he called you?”
“I don’t want to repeat it.”
They turned the corner, watching for the headlights of traffic. But there was nothing out there. The streets were deserted. Storefronts went past them. Finneman’s Market, Pizza City, Fishbine’s Jewelers, all darkened. There was a quiet in the air, except for the sound of their pedaling, and the tires rubbing the pavement.
On the next street, a curious building suddenly loomed in front of them. No, not a building. Half a wall. It stood there, alone. Where the rest of the building should have been, there was nothing. The wall looked like it was crowned with dull teeth, jutting up into the sky. The nearest streetlamp revealed little. The wall was black, like soot. As if charred in a fire.
“What’s that?” said Jimmy.
“You don’t remember? I guess it looks different in the dark,” said Oscar. “That’s all that’s left of Blackgaard’s Castle.”
They slowed to a stop before the ruin.
Blackgaard’s Castle. Jimmy had been in there a couple times, to take a look and to hang out with friends. It was exciting, but noisy. And it wasn’t the only place in town to play Zappazoids. Jimmy had never much liked the employees. Dr. Blackgaard was okay, but not very easy to talk to. But Richard kind of gave him the creeps. He was always looking around, and always hanging around Lucy.
“I wonder when they’re going to knock it down,” said Oscar. “It’s been a couple months now.”
“Probably before you find your pocketknife.”
Jimmy stared at the ruin. So, this was the place some kids said was haunted. If he was younger, he might have believed them. He slipped off his bike.
Oscar frowned, and there was a slight tremble in his voice. “It’s late. Our parents will start worrying.”
Jimmy smiled. “Hey, you made me wait in front of the school. You can wait a second.”
It was only a wreck. And Jimmy was man enough to know there was nothing to be afraid of. He took a step forward, and another, and another.
“Jimmy,” called Oscar. “What are you doing?”
But Jimmy kept walking. He reached out his hand and touched the corner of the building. It felt like the inside of a chimney. He pulled his hand back. Even in that dim lighting he could tell: his hand was black with soot and ash.
At that moment came the sound of shattering glass. The boys stopped dead in their tracks.
“Where did that come from?” said Oscar. His voice came out like a squeak.
“Quiet, Oscar,” whispered Jimmy. He was sure the noise had come from the far end of Blackgaard’s Castle. He peered into the darkness, but saw nothing.
“We should get out of here,” whispered Oscar.
“Scaredy cat. What if I want to check it out?”
“Are you crazy?”
“You’re acting like the girl this time, Oscar.”
“And you’re acting like a big dummy.”
Jimmy was about to raise his voice to respond, but then another noise caught his attention. The noise of someone groaning. Then, a metallic hiss. All from the same direction as the breaking glass. And then, footsteps. Lots of footsteps.
Coming towards him.
Jimmy almost tripped over himself as he backed away. He felt the air catch in his lungs. If he could have, he might have yelled. He found himself clambering over the building rubble, his eyes flicking around in all directions, still keeping a lookout for the source of the noise. He was halfway back to Oscar when the footsteps came to an abrupt halt.
And then, silence.
Just the wind in his hair. Jimmy’s eyes were adjusting to the darkness now. For a moment he thought he saw a figure, a tall figure standing there like a statue amid the ruins of Blackgaard’s Castle. Jimmy blinked.
But there was no one. And he heard no footsteps. They had all faded away. He crouched there, in the rubble, just listening.
Then, he felt a hand clasp his shoulder.
“Ahhhhh!” The scream escaped Jimmy’s throat before he could stop it. He spun himself around. “Oscar! Don’t scare me like that!”
“I’m sorry,” said Oscar, his voice hoarse. “I was trying to help you out of there.”
“I don’t need help,” said Jimmy, brushing off Oscar’s hand. “Besides, there’s nothing there.”
“Then what about the breaking glass? The footsteps?”
“Probably an animal. Could be those raccoons that hang around the Pizza City dumpster.”
Oscar shook his head. “There was someone there. I thought I saw a person.”
Jimmy looked into the darkness again. “Well, no one’s there now.”
“We shouldn’t be here,” said Oscar. “Don’t you remember what some of the kids at school were saying? Nobody’s seen Dr. Blackgaard since the fire. Because . . .”
“Don’t tell me you listen to ghost stories.”
“. . . he died in that fire. And now his spirit haunts the place.”
Jimmy forced a laugh. “And you call me a dummy. Blackgaard moved away, didn’t he? And there’s no such thing as haunted buildings.”
Oscar crossed his arms. “Oh yeah? Well, you looked pretty scared just now.”
“That’s because you scared me, Oscar. I’m not scared of this place.” Then a thought came into his head. “Got a flashlight?”
“Um, yeah. Why?”
“Hand it over. I’ll show you there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Oscar gave Jimmy the flashlight, and the two of them slowly approached the ruined building once more. It looked more horrid in the beam of the flashlight. Exposed rebar jutted out from the wall. The ground was covered in ash and half-burnt bricks. Shadows danced in front of the boys, aiming to escape the beam of light. In at least one place, the floor had caved in.
As they went farther, they saw that more of the building had survived the fire. Connecting to the outer wall was an interior wall, with open doorways leading to the remains of other rooms. But everything was black. Scorched by fire and smoke.
Then Jimmy felt crunching beneath his feet. Pop cans and twisted utensils and . . . glass. He looked up and saw the broken window in the outer wall.
“There it is,” he said weakly. “Maybe it was already broken, and more of the glass just fell.”
“Jimmy,” said Oscar. His voice had gone cold.
“What?”
“Shine the flashlight on the ground. By your foot.”
Jimmy did.
The boys went pale.
A large shard of glass lay in front of them. Its sharp edge was stained red.
“Is that,” trembled Oscar, “blood?”
* * *
Reginald Duffield sipped his tea with trepidation. It was his one moment of peace before the afterschool rush arrived at Whit’s End. He sat behind the counter, drumming his fingers. Of course John Avery Whittaker, his friend and Second World War mate, had taken the opportunity to rush off and run errands. That was the problem with Americans. They were always rushing somewhere. It was usually better not to ask why.
Oscar burst into Whit’s End, followed closely by Jimmy. The bell above the door clanged wildly. Their backpacks swung back and forth as they raced inside.
“Ah, boys!” said Duffield. “Or should I say, players of the stage. Here to celebrate your performance, are you?”
“Mr. Whittaker!” said Oscar, nearly colliding into a table. “We need Mr. Whittaker!”
“Oscar, you’re looking rather flustered. You want Whit? You don’t trust me to make you a proper sundae, is that it?” Duffield cracked a smile.
“It’s not that, Mr. Duffield,” said Jimmy, approaching the counter. “We just need to talk to Mr. Whittaker about something.”
“Something important,” said Oscar.
“Important, eh?” Duffield’s brow furrowed. “Well, I’m afraid Whit’s gone out. He won’t be back for the better part of the afternoon.”
“Oh,” said Oscar, slumping onto a stool.
“Nothing urgent, is it?” Duffield said softly.
“Well . . .” began Oscar.
“It’s okay, Mr. Duffield,” said Jimmy, giving Oscar a look. “It’s probably nothing. We can talk to Mr. Whittaker later.”
Duffield sipped his tea. He looked from Jimmy, to Oscar, and then back to Jimmy. “Well then. Should you change minds, you lads know where to find me.”
“Thanks, Mr. Duffield,” said Jimmy. He felt bad about not telling him. But they still needed to figure out what was happening. And he didn’t want their story to spread. It was better no one knew they had been scared last night by nothing but a piece of broken glass.
More kids from school were beginning to filter into Whit’s End. Jack and Lucy claimed a corner booth, and Rodney arrived with a couple other troublemakers. Isaac Morton ordered a milkshake, which took Duffield’s attention off Jimmy and Oscar.
“Jimmy, why didn’t you tell Mr. Duffield?” said Oscar. “He might be able to help. He was in the army.”
“The British Navy, I think,” said Jimmy. “Let’s find a booth. Maybe Mr. Whittaker will come back from his errands early.”
Before long, rain was pounding against the front windows of the shop. The wind was picking up again, and dead leaves were swirling in the air. Kids kept flooding into the building to escape the weather. The daylight was beginning to fade.
“Maybe we should just leave it alone,” said Oscar. “I don’t want to go back to that place.”
“Oscar, it’s just a building. What’s left of a building. It’s nothing to be scared of.”
“You were looking pretty scared last night, same as me!”
A new voice entered the conversation. “Scared of what?”
Jack Davis poked his head over the top of the booth.
“Nothing,” said Jimmy, suddenly embarrassed. How much had Jack heard?
“Oh sure,” said Oscar. “Jimmy isn’t scared of anything, ever.”
Jimmy flashed Oscar another look.
“Are you guys talking about last night? The Edgar Allen Poe reading Jill did at the festival?” said Jack. “That poem freaked me out. What’s wrong with that girl? I heard she has a skeleton tattoo on her shoulder, or a raven or something.”
“Jack, we learned our lesson about spreading rumors,” piped up Lucy. “At least I did.”
Jack and Lucy joined Jimmy and Oscar at their booth, and they ordered a round of sodas. But Mr. Duffield was preoccupied with making photocopy pizzas for Rodney’s group. He said he couldn’t pour the sodas just yet because Whit’s End was “chock-a-block.” They guessed that meant busy.
“Mr. Whittaker must make a ton from this place,” said Oscar. “It’s always full lately.”
“I doubt it,” said Jimmy. “I don’t think he’s ever raised the price of orange soda.”
“Yeah, the prices have always been good,” said Oscar. “The school vending machines are a total rip-off. Finneman’s is ok.”
“So,” said Jack, “what were you guys talking about earlier? You look a bit jumpy.”
Before Jimmy could stop him, Oscar began.
“Ok, please don’t tell anyone,” said Oscar. “We don’t want anyone else finding out.”
“What? Is it serious?” said Lucy.
“We don’t know yet,” said Oscar. “But it could be bad.”
Jimmy interjected, “We really don’t know much.”
“About what?” asked Jack.
Oscar let out a deep breath. Then he spoke in a whisper. “We went to Blackgaard’s Castle last night.”
Jack and Lucy’s eyes widened.
“Wild,” said Jack, his jaw hanging open.
Lucy had a look of horror on her face. “Why would you go back there? And at night?”
“We didn’t want to,” said Oscar. “We were passing by on our way home. And that’s when we heard it.”
“What?” said Jack.
“Someone smashing glass.”
“We don’t know someone smashed it,” said Jimmy.
“Oh yes, we do,” said Oscar. “We should show them what we found, Jimmy.”
“What? Not here. Not at Whit’s End.”
“Then I’ll do it.” Oscar unzipped his backpack and carefully removed something wrapped in a cloth. He set it on the table. Then he looked left and right, checking to see if anyone was watching them. Slowly, he lifted one corner of the cloth.
The shard of glass appeared. Its red stain had darkened.
Jack and Lucy gasped.
“Wow,” said Jack. “Is that blood?”
“What else could it be?” said Oscar.
With a flick of his hand, Oscar hid the glass in the cloth once more and stowed it in his backpack. They sat there in silence for a moment.
“Well, what do you think it means?” said Jack.
“Something’s up,” said Oscar. “Whatever it is, I’m gonna stay far away from Blackgaard’s Castle from now on.”
“I wouldn’t want to go near there anyway,” said Lucy.
“Same,” said Jack. “That’s . . . that’s crazy.”
Jimmy considered the whole thing for a moment. Everyone was scared to go back. To be honest, he felt scared too. But what if something really was going on? He could be the one to solve it.
“Maybe that’s exactly what we should do,” said Jimmy.
“What?” said Jack.
“Go back. To Blackgaard’s Castle. To solve this mystery. Tonight.”
“What?!” said Lucy.
“Oh no you don’t,” said Oscar. “That’s nuts. I didn’t even tell you two about the . . . other thing we saw.”
“We didn’t see anything else,” said Jimmy.
“There was a shape. It could have been a person.”
“Really?” said Jack. “W-what did he look like?”
“Tall,” said Oscar. He leaned in towards them. “I can’t be sure, but I think it was him. Back from the grave. Dr. Blackgaard.”
Jack and Lucy nearly jumped in their seats.
“What do you mean?” said Lucy. “Did Dr. Blackgaard die?”
“That’s what I heard,” said Oscar.
“But, that’s not possible,” said Jack. “Dead people don’t . . . you know . . . come back.”
“Maybe he didn’t die. But he was there,” said Oscar. “Someone was there, watching us.”
Jimmy shook his head. “We won’t know what’s going on unless we go back. If you’re not brave enough, don’t come.”
“No, Jimmy,” said Lucy. “It could be dangerous. Going to an abandoned building at night? This is not about being brave. You’re being dumb.”
“That’s what I said!” Oscar chimed in. “A dummy.”
“Hey, I’m not the one who picked up that sharp piece of glass, with someone else’s blood on it, and brought it home,” shot back Jimmy.
Jimmy and Oscar glared at each other. The conversation moved on to school and their upcoming exams. The afterschool rush was beginning to die down. Jack went to check if Mr. Duffield had forgotten about their sodas.
On his way back to the booth, Rodney called Jack over to his table.
“Got any soda for me, Jack?” Rodney sneered.
Jack went to talk to him, but didn’t sit down. Rodney was talking about something quietly, while his friends eyed up Jack like predators catching sight of their prey.
“What’s going on over there?” said Oscar.
Jimmy and Lucy didn’t have an answer. Rodney offered Jack one of the last slices of pizza, but Jack didn’t take it. Now Rodney and his friends were smiling.
“Ok then, go back to your mommy,” laughed Rodney, as Jack turned to go.
Jack stopped in his tracks. “What did you say?”
“You didn’t get the message? Maybe this will tell ya.”
The pizza slice landed against the back of Jack’s head. Rodney’s friends burst out laughing.
“They’re awful,” said Lucy.
“They’re bullies,” said Oscar. “What are you going to do?”
“Yeah,” said Jimmy. And before he knew it, he was standing up. “Leave him alone, Rodney.”
He didn’t say it very loudly, but Rodney heard him.
“Is that you, Barclay?” said Rodney, rising to his feet. “Ah, Juliet herself, back to give us another performance. Wait a minute. Juliet Barclay. That’s your new name!”
Rodney’s friends roared with laughter.
Jimmy felt his cheeks go red.
“Oh, you’ve got nothing to say?” Rodney cackled. “What’s the matter, did you forget your lines?”
Their conversation had caught the attention of the nearby tables. Everyone was staring now. Jimmy felt his throat go dry. He thought about sitting down again. But he had to say something.
“Rodney . . . ” he mumbled.
But it was Lucy who spoke up. “Cut it out, Rodney. Why don’t you go be a bonehead somewhere else?”
Rodney smirked. “Bonehead, I like that. I wouldn’t have expected that from a goody two-shoes like you. But after I heard what you did at camp, I guess you’re not such a goody after all.”
Lucy glared at him.
“And you all should know better than to interrupt a business conversation,” said Rodney.
“Business?” said Oscar.
“Yeah, that’s right, Romeo,” continued Rodney. “Business. I’m an ulta panair.”
“Huh?” said Oscar. “You’re an airline pilot?”
“I believe you mean entrepreneur.” The voice was Mr. Duffield’s. He was carrying a tray of sodas. And his face was set with an icy glower.
“Yeah, whatever,” said Rodney. “A businessman. Hey, any of those sodas orange flavor?”
“Buy your own soda,” said Oscar.
Rodney snorted. “What? At these prices?”
“Rodney,” continued Duffield, “I think it’s high time you and your friends said ‘cheerio.’”
“Huh?”
“Get out of Whit’s End.”
“What? You can’t do that. You don’t own the place.”
Duffield stared at him coolly. “I happen to be in contact with the owner. Just as I’ll be in contact with your father, should I ever feel the need.”
Rodney deflated at the mention of his dad. “Whatever. Come on boys, let’s take our business elsewhere. And don’t worry, Juliet Barclay. I don’t allow girls to get involved.”
“I don’t think you’re capable of interacting with girls,” said Lucy.
“You think so?” said Rodney. “You all have no idea what I’m capable of.”
Rodney and his pack of followers had ugly grins on their faces as they tramped out of the shop. A couple of them had large backpacks which looked pretty heavy, undoubtedly filled with knickknacks they had stolen. Jimmy’s missing bike pump was probably in there.
Jimmy could have imagined it, but he thought Rodney gave Jack a wink before he left.
“My apologies I wasn’t here sooner,” said Duffield. “It’s been a bit of a madhouse in here today. But throwing food is unacceptable. I’ll let Whit know not to allow Rodney back in the shop. At least not for a while.”
Duffield delivered the sodas to their booth. They began sipping their drinks in silence.
“What’s the matter?” said Duffield. “You all look like you just lost a battle.”
Lucy frowned. “We did, Mr. Duffield. I even played into Rodney’s game. We should have just ignored him.”
“Ah, I see. Well, I never fault anyone for their courage. Even when one is misguided. But, could I offer you all a word of advice?”
“Sure,” said Jack.
“You’d be wise to pick your battles. I had to tell myself that every day during the war, as I kept in hiding from the Japanese. Sometimes the courageous thing is to hold fast, and not fight. But, that’s something not all of us have the courage to do.” Duffield smiled. “Well, enjoy your drinks.”
“Thanks, Mr. Duffield,” said Oscar.
“Mr. Duffield?” said Jimmy. “Do you know if Mr. Whittaker is coming back from his errands soon?”
“Oh, I’m afraid not,” said Duffield. “Whit just called and said he won’t be in until tomorrow. I’ll be closing up the shop tonight.”
They finished their sodas in silence.
As Jack and Lucy turned to go, Lucy said, “You know, Jimmy, I really did like your performance as Juliet last night. Don’t listen to Rodney.”
“Thanks,” said Jimmy.
Jack gathered up the empty soda glasses, and that’s when Jimmy caught sight of his hand. Jimmy elbowed Oscar. They looked at Jack’s hand, and Oscar’s mouth hung open. Jack had a bandage around his left hand. And on the outside was dried blood.
When Jack and Lucy had gone, Oscar turned to Jimmy.
“Jimmy . . .” he began.
“Don’t say it, Oscar. We both saw it.”
“But that means . . . that means Jack was at . . .” His voice trailed off.
“It could mean anything. All I know is that we still haven’t solved this mystery. Whatever’s going on, we’re the ones who can find out.”
“But why us?”
“Because we were there. Maybe we can do something everyone else would be scared to do, including Rodney.”
Oscar exhaled. “So, did you mean what you said about going back to Blackgaard’s Castle? Tonight?”
Jimmy bent down to tie his shoe. “Just follow behind me if you’re scared, Oscar. And bring your flashlight.”
* * *
The rain had stopped. Two shadows sped down the dark street, past the shuttered doors of Finneman’s Market. They rode bikes, gliding through the night like bats. The air had the odor of fallen leaves, dead and withered.
Jimmy and Oscar rounded the corner and there it was. The black, empty place between buildings. The burned-out shell. Blackgaard’s Castle.
The boys came to a stop.
“We shouldn’t be here,” said Oscar.
“Not this again,” said Jimmy. “You didn’t have to come.”
“What if we find something . . . bad? Or someone bad. Or someone bad finds us.”
“You would never have made it through World War II.”
“Huh?”
“Mr. Duffield did. By doing the same thing he did at Whit’s End. He stood up to Rodney, and he won the battle.”
“I thought he said pick your battles. I wouldn’t want to pick this one.”
“Well, I wouldn’t call this a battle. And we don’t know what we’re going to find.”
“Do you think we’re going to find Rodney at Blackgaard’s Castle?”
Jimmy stared into the blackness. “Maybe. Or maybe Jack is mixed up with him. Whatever it is, I want to find out.”
What if Jack was there, and he needed help? Or, what if Jack really was one of them? What if he was doing things he shouldn’t? If he was, people should know about it. Lucy should know about it.
They walked their bikes towards the Castle. It looked like a scorched crater. It was a sign, a warning that destruction came swiftly and ruthlessly. Jimmy could still smell the smoke.
“What’s that?” said Oscar.
Jimmy scanned the darkness. Then something caught his eye. Was that a person? Or a trick of the low light.
“You want the flashlight?” said Oscar.
Jimmy took it, but didn’t turn it on. “We can’t give away our position.”
He continued to stare into the black night. And as his eyes adjusted, yes, there it was. A shape. A person, swinging their arms as they walked. They went this way and then that way, among the ruins of Blackgaard’s Castle.
Suddenly Oscar shrank back. “Let’s get out of here, Jimmy. Whoever that is, they could be trouble. Let’s go home.”
“You can if you want to,” said Jimmy. “I’m staying.”
“Aren’t your parents going to worry?”
“They’re away until late. And Donna’s probably still having dinner at friend’s house.”
“But, what if something happens?”
“Like what, the building burns down a second time?”
“Stop being such a dummy,” said Oscar in a harsh whisper.
“You stop being such a scaredy cat.”
“I don’t know what’s going on with you, Jimmy. But this is crazy. I’m out of here.”
“Fine, leave then. I don’t need you.”
Oscar got on his bike and left without another word.
A breath of wind enveloped Jimmy, hovering in the darkness. And then it was gone. Silence filled the air. He was alone.
Well, except for the dark figure.
Jimmy stood there for what felt like ages. He didn’t see any more movement inside Blackgaard’s Castle. Now, the place was deadly quiet.
No one knew Jimmy was out here, except Oscar. His parents certainly wouldn’t have approved, if they’d known. Mr. Whittaker and Mr. Duffield probably wouldn’t either. But maybe they’d understand, once he solved the mystery. Lucy didn’t like the thought of him coming here. She probably never wanted to think about Dr. Blackgaard again, after what happened. But she was always hanging around with Jack. If Lucy knew Jack was mixed up in any of this, what would she think of him then?
How had Jack got that cut on his hand? He hadn’t mentioned it. Jimmy wondered how he explained it to Lucy. A football injury? Or maybe he got a paper cut at the library. If it happened at Blackgaard’s Castle, he obviously didn’t tell her the truth.
Footsteps interrupted his thoughts.
Jimmy ducked instinctively. He crouched on the sidewalk, peering into the blackness. The figure was back. He was standing still now, leaning against the wall.
A metallic hiss cut through the silence. What was that? The sound of a metal can being cracked open? What was he drinking?
Jimmy had enough. It was time to get this over with. He stumbled forward, into the darkness. He could feel his heart pounding.
The figure seemed to hear Jimmy’s approach. It was dark, but Jimmy thought he saw the person push away from the wall, and then take a few steps back.
Jimmy sped up.
“Jack!” he called out.
He fumbled for the flashlight, trying to find the button.
“Who’s that over there?” said a voice. But it wasn’t Jack’s.
Jimmy turned on the flashlight, just in time to see two boys lunging at him, one from each side. He ducked out of the way, but a third boy came up behind him, caught his arms and held fast. Jimmy dropped the flashlight.
“Got him!” said the boy, gripping Jimmy’s arms tighter, holding him still. It was pointless to struggle.
“Nice work, Mark,” screeched Rodney. Jimmy would recognize that voice anywhere.
How had he been so stupid? Where was Jack? Had he just walked into a meeting of Rodney and his friends?
“So, who do we have here?” said Rodney, approaching him. “Greg, let’s have some light.”
Another boy struck a match, casting an eerie red glow. He bent done and lit a lantern on the ground. Greg held the lantern in front of Jimmy’s face, blinding him with the light. The lantern smelled of kerosene.
“Barclay?” said Rodney, getting closer. “Now just what are you doing here?”
The other boys surrounded Jimmy in a circle. Mark continued to hold Jimmy’s arms behind his back in a vise grip.
“He asked you a question,” spat Mark, throwing Jimmy down to his knees. A cloud of dust and soot flew up when Jimmy hit the ground.
“How did you find this place?” said Rodney.
“Where’s Jack?” said Jimmy weakly. He squinted up at Rodney, who was smiling now.
“Jack?” said Rodney. “Did he send you here? Well, you can tell him we don’t need him. And we don’t need you either.”
“Need for what?”
Rodney took a sip from a can of Fizzy Soda. Orange flavor. “Juliet Barclay, you’re one of the first to be introduced to my new gang. Take a look at the Bones of Rath.”
Jimmy twisted his head around. It was the same group of friends Rodney had brought with him to Whit’s End. Tough guys with mean expressions. But they looked even uglier in this lighting.
“The Bones of Rath,” said Jimmy. “I get it. At least it’s better than the Boneheads.”
Greg snorted, but Rodney gave him a dark look.
“You think you’re funny, Barclay,” said Rodney. “I know you stole that joke from Lucy. But don’t think Lucy or Jack are gonna protect you now.”
“So, Jack has nothing to do with this?” said Jimmy.
“Jack had his chance. But he chickened out. He wasn’t cut out to be a Bone.”
“What happened?”
Rodney glared. “It doesn’t matter. That plan is over because of him. And now we can’t even use this place as a hideout, because of you. Now we don’t have a place to store our merchandise. And that doesn’t make us very happy.”
Rodney took another sip of his orange soda.
“Wait,” said Jimmy, “merchandise? You were the guys who robbed Finneman’s Market. And you went for the soda cans, not the Zappazoids machine?”
“Hey, you gotta start small! And it was a good plan.” said Rodney. “This is why you wouldn’t be cut out for it, Barclay. We were swiping boxes of soda cans, the ones Finneman had piled up outside the store. But then he moved everything inside. We were thinking about Jack for the gang, so I told him to break into the store and steal more soda. But he couldn’t do it. He went back and gave Finneman money for the sodas we stole. What a chump.”
“So, you are a group of thieves.”
“It’s initiation. It doesn’t matter to me what people steal. Soda cans, pocketknives, bike pumps, whatever junk isn’t nailed down.”
“But it does matter to you. Why did you guys want to steal more of the soda?”
“I get thirsty,” said Rodney. “And to resell it to kids at school. I told you, I’m an ultra— I’m a— I’m a businessman.”
“And Jack wanted to join your gang?”
“Obviously not, after what he did. But he knew about this place, so we had to scare him from revealing our hiding spot. He was lucky he got away with just a cut. You on the other hand . . .”
The Bones of Rath closed in around Jimmy. He felt Mark tighten his grip.
Rodney leaned towards Jimmy. “You couldn’t have just stayed at home with mommy. You had to mess around in other people’s business.”
Jimmy looked Rodney in the eyes, and gave the iciest stare he could muster. He tried to remember what Mr. Duffield had said to Rodney.
Jimmy tried to deepen his voice. “Mr. Finneman’s a friend of mine, and he’s not going to be too happy about this whole thing. And isn’t he also friends with your dad?”
Before Jimmy saw it coming, Rodney’s fist collided with Jimmy’s cheek. He felt his head snap back at the blow. His entire face was on fire with pain, as if Rodney had tried to punch a hole through his head.
“You think that’s bad? If you ever talk to my dad, you’ll be screaming for mercy, Barclay,” said Rodney.
Jimmy winced with pain, and said nothing. Now he was feeling like a dummy. Why had he come here in the first place? He should have gone home like Oscar, and stayed out of trouble.
Rodney continued. “You know, that’s a nice bike you got there. Bring it over here, boys.”
One of the Bones wheeled Jimmy’s bike into the circle.
“Normally I’d steal it from you,” said Rodney, “but knowing what a goody goody you are, you’d probably get it back. But there’s nothing you can do if we torch it.”
“Torch it?” said Jimmy.
“Hand me that lantern, Greg. Ah, the sweet smell of kerosene. That’s right, Barclay. And you’re gonna feel the heat, seeing as you’re sitting so close by.”
Rodney unscrewed the cap and splashed some kerosene fuel onto the front tire.
“You know,” said Rodney, “what better place to have a fire? In the burned down leftovers of Blackgaard’s Castle. Mark, hold down Jimmy’s face next to the bike.”
Jimmy tried to push away, but Mark was stronger. The kerosene fumes filled his lungs.
“Greg, light it up.” said Rodney, stepping back.
At that moment bright headlights blinded them. A car screeched to a halt in front of the building, and someone leaped out. Jimmy couldn’t see who it was.
“You?” said Rodney, in shock.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” a voice said calmly. It was Mr. Duffield.
“What are you doing here?”
“Oh, I thought I’d go from a drive tonight. You see, just as I was closing up Whit’s End, a certain flustered boy came by and mentioned that there might be something interesting happening at Blackgaard’s Castle. Naturally, I decided to see what all the excitement was about.”
“A flustered boy?” said Rodney.
It was Oscar, Jimmy knew.
“Whatever, it doesn’t matter,” continued Rodney. “You better get out of here fast, if you know what’s good for you.”
“If it’s all the same to you boys, I’d rather join you,” said Duffield. He continued to approach the circle.
“You stop right there!” cried Rodney.
“Oh, hello, Jimmy,” said Duffield. “This isn’t your regular group of friends, is it? Are you all right?”
“I’m ok, Mr. Duffield,” said Jimmy.
“Yeah, yeah, how touching. Now scram!” said Rodney.
“I think I’ll stay right here for now, thank you very much,” said Duffield.
Rodney smirked. “You’re just one man, Duffield. Not very smart of you to come here alone.”
The Bones closed in around Mr. Duffield.
“Maybe not,” said Duffield. “But before you do whatever it is you want to do, I have just the one request.”
“What request?” said Rodney.
“Let Jimmy go.”
Rodney laughed. “What are you going to do, threaten to call my dad again? He won’t believe you.”
“No, I won’t call your father,” said Duffield. “Let Jimmy go, and you can have me.”
“Huh?” said Rodney. “This isn’t no tea party, Duffield. You don’t want to be here.”
“But I do. I want to be precisely where I am.”
“Why would we want you?”
“You remember earlier today, don’t you?” said Duffield. “How I kicked you all out of Whit’s End? Humiliated you, Rodney, threatening to call your father, in front of everyone? That must have made you angry, didn’t it?”
“What about it?” Rodney sulked.
“This is your chance for revenge. And I won’t even fight back. You’re not afraid of me, are you?”
It was dark, but Jimmy could tell Rodney was turning red. He had no choice.
“All right, get out of here, Jimmy,” Rodney said. “We’ve got Duffield. We don’t need you.”
Mark released his grip on Jimmy and pushed him to the side. Jimmy staggered to his feet and looked up at Duffield.
“Mr. Duffield, you don’t have to do this,” said Jimmy. “This is all my fault, not yours.”
“Get out of here, Jimmy,” said Duffield. “Go home, as fast as you can.”
“But this isn’t your fault! Whatever happened to picking your battles?”
Duffield looked at Jimmy warmly. “I am. I’m not putting myself in harm’s way needlessly, but for a purpose. And part of that purpose is to keep you safe. So please leave, Jimmy. Get out of here.”
“Mr. Duffield,” said Jimmy, one more time. He felt tears begin to fill his eyes.
“Go, Jimmy.”
Jimmy took one last look, and then left the circle at a run. He intended to run the whole way home, and tell his parents. Tell somebody, if his parents weren’t home yet. This didn’t make any sense. What had he done? It was all his fault. What was going to happen to Mr. Duffield?
He slowed his pace. What was he doing? He’d made one mistake in coming. But now, was he making another mistake in leaving Mr. Duffield with Rodney and his gang?
Jimmy couldn’t leave Mr. Duffield now. Not after everything he’d done for him. Quietly, Jimmy crept back down the street, towards Blackgaard’s Castle. The night was approaching its darkest. It was easier for him to approach unseen. He walked towards the light of the lantern, but stayed hidden. He could just hear what they were saying.
“Maybe you should go back to England where they have proper manners,” cackled Rodney. “You’re missing your teatime.”
Either Duffield said nothing, or Jimmy was too far away to hear. The sight struck Jimmy. Duffield stood there, tall and unafraid. The light of the lantern fell upon him in a warm glow. Around him snarled the Bones of Rath, surrounding him like a pack of wolves. Their features were harsh with the shadows cast by the lantern’s flame. They looked ready to tear Mr. Duffield apart.
“All right, this is for today,” said Rodney. “I said you didn’t know what I was capable of!”
Rodney’s fist flew towards Duffield’s head. But it stopped an inch away. Duffield didn’t flinch.
“Ha!” said Rodney. “I scared you, huh?”
Duffield said nothing.
Rodney slowly lowered his fist. He took a step back. “All right, boys, take a swing. I want to see at least one black eye!”
The Bones seemed to approach Mr. Duffield, and then retreat. None lifted a fist.
“Hit him!” shrieked Rodney. “Mark, Greg! Somebody hit him!”
But no one moved. No one dared to strike him.
Mr. Duffield stood tall, and solemn, staring Rodney down. Rodney went pale, as if the life was draining out of him.
“I didn’t think you would,” said Duffield. “But I was prepared, nonetheless.”
Rodney stepped towards him, confused. “Prepared how?”
Bright red and blue lights came into view. A police siren sounded. Rodney and the Bones turned to run, but they were already surrounded. The police officers had formed a ring around them. Soon, all of them were being led into the back of police cars.
“Thanks for the call, Mr. Duffield,” said Officer O’Ryan. “And they happened to have the stolen merchandise from Finneman’s Market with them. Orange soda, of all things. We don’t always have high hopes to catch petty criminals, so we appreciate all your help.”
“Don’t thank me, officer,” said Duffield. “It was Jimmy and Oscar who tracked down the thieves.”
“Oh,” said O’Ryan. “Well, thank you, Jimmy. Now, you stay out of trouble, do you hear?”
“Yes, officer,” said Jimmy.
Duffield turned to Jimmy. “I thought I told you to leave.”
“I was going to, Mr. Duffield,” said Jimmy. But I didn’t want to make two mistakes in one night.”
Duffield threw an arm around Jimmy, and they hugged. “Shall I drive you home, Jimmy? You can put your bike in the boot of my car.”
“The boot?”
“Oh, my apologies. As you Americans say, the trunk.”
“Sure, Mr. Duffield. And thank you, for what you did back there. I think I learned my lesson.”
“I’m glad, Jimmy. I’m sorry it took this night to do it. But I’m proud of the courage you showed.”
Jimmy smiled slightly. “That was brave of you, to use yourself as bait.”
“Well, you’d have worked just as well as the bait, my boy. But you’d probably be a little more ruffed up, with a black eye at least. And I didn’t think that would be a good look for your next stage performance.”
“Stage performance?”
“Quite. You’ve mastered the role of Juliet. But the determination you displayed tonight makes me think you’d be suitable to play another great Shakespearean woman: the dangerous Lady Macbeth.”
“Mr. Duffield! Another girl?”
Duffield laughed. “Not just a girl. A formidable woman. But perhaps in time you’ll take on the role of Macbeth himself! As the bard has it, ‘I dare do all that may become a man; who dares do more is none.’”
Jimmy wasn’t totally sure he understood. Maybe he would when he was older. But for now, he was just glad to have Mr. Duffield with him.
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