Bad Bones by Graham Marks Read Free Book Online Page B

Gabey?” Remy pointed at his bedside table, reaching forward like she wasgoing to touch the untidily knotted cloth duster.
    “Nothing, now move it!”
    “Well, Mom says you’d better get your skates on, else you’ll be late for school…” Remy dodged the dirty sock Gabe launched at her as she made for the door. “And you got dribble on your chinny-chin-chin…”
    “Get…”
    Remy disappeared, then her head popped round the door, excited. “Guess what I saw in the front yard this morning, Gabey.”
    “A fight between two of your stupid dolls?” Remy crossed her eyes and did her ‘you’re so dumb’ face, which always cracked Gabe up. “OK, OK, I give up, what?”
    “An owl, Gabey. Just sitting there on the mailbox, kinda
looking
at the house.”

    Ten minutes later, showered and shaved, Gabe still felt jumpy and nervous, as if any minute something dreadful was going to happen. The owl was watching. Not
an
owl, but
the
owl. Had to be. He didn’t feel hungry any more.
    As he went into the kitchen Remy was leaving, giving him a saccharine-sweet smile that ended with her sticking out her tongue; Gabe ignored her, which he knew drove her crazy, but that was only fair as it was all she ever did to him. He saw his mom over by the dishwasher, unloading it with the morning newscast on KZLA, a local TV channel, on in the background. No sign of his dad. They hadn’t said much to each other since yesterday, and he was kind of glad he wasn’t around now. The less stress the better, the way he was feeling.
    “Hi, Gabe, sleep well, sweetheart?”
    “Yeah, OK, Mom.” Gabe thought about what his dad had said, about how they didn’t – and by implication, shouldn’t – lie to each other in this family; well, if not telling his mom about the kind of dreams he’d had last night was lying, so be it. He glanced at the TV, showing a reporter, station-branded microphone in his hand, looking earnestly at the camera. “What’s the big story?”
    “Someone’s gone missing, I think they said over by Daisy Canyon. They showed a picture. Older person, a guy wearing a red baseball cap. I wasn’t payingtoo much attention. Must be a slow news day.”
    Gabe was glad his mom wasn’t looking at him as he felt the colour drain from his face.
Way
too many coincidences for comfort.
    “Before you ask if there’s any chance of some French toast this morning, we’re out of eggs, sweetie, sorry –” his mom carried on talking with her back to him – “I could nuke a slice of pizza?”
    “OK, thanks…” Pizza for breakfast. Oh joy. Never the ideal choice, but he had a hard day ahead of him and knew he should eat something.
    “Want a glass of milk with that?”
    “Yeah, that’d be great.” Gabe went over to the table, knowing that to refuse food would be like sending up a warning flare: Something Is Wrong With My Son! “Could you do me a favour, Mom? Could you tell Remy,
again
, that she’s not allowed to even step inside my room? I don’t go in hers, right?”
    “Sure, but I don’t know what the problem is.” Gabe’s mom put a glass of milk on the table as the microwave pinged. “What’s she going to do, steal your dirty laundry? She’d be doing you a favour if she did.”
    “She just gets in my face.” Gabe accepted the plate his mom gave him, the cheese on the pizza slice bubbling like yellow lava; breakfast appeared to be an ogre’s severed tongue.
    “Give it a few years, when she and her little friends aren’t so little any more…”
    Gabe turned to see his dad, whom he hadn’t heard coming into the kitchen; he hadn’t shaved.
    Glancing at the kitchen clock, which was always a little slow, Gabe leapt up from the table. “Geez, look at the time – I gotta go!”
    Snatching up the pizza slice, he hared back down the corridor, past his sister going the other way, and skidded into his room. He flung everything he needed for school in his backpack and was halfway back to the kitchen when he remembered