passthepopcorn

As part of National Novel Writing Month, I’m working on my own story. So this space will take a break from TV/movie reviews until November is over. But I thought it would be fun to serialize each part while I’m working. Here’s the first part. Enjoy!_____________________________________________________________________________

“I’m coming. I’m com-ing,” Matt Jenkins shouted as he jumped over his self-made obstacles of piles of laundry and bills left on the floor. The phone paid no heed, though, and continued to ring.

Finally Matt grabbed the receiver. “Yeah,” he said breathlessly. Then he quickly corrected himself – this was his business line, not his private one. “I mean, Jenkins and Associates.”

There was a pause as he listened. “Yes, this is Mr. Jenkins.” To him, “Mr. Jenkins” still sounded like a name for his dad. But he knew what people meant when calling here.

As he continued to listen, his face dropped. “That’s terrible,” he said. “Yes, of course I’ll be down right away. Let me get the address.”

After he hurriedly jotted the numbers down on a random scrap of paper, his roommate Todd walked in the room with a half-empty pizza box in one hand and a cold slice of pizza in the other. “Amazing how good this stuff can taste, even though it’s left over from the party last week. I guess time has no effect on this thing, huh?”

Todd’s smile faded as he saw the serious look on Matt’s face. “Dude, what’s wrong?”

Matt didn’t even look up. He was still too much in shock. “It’s Jenny,” he finally said. “She’s dead.”

Matt and Todd got in the car and started driving. It had been two days since Matt had gotten the call about Jenny. The funeral was today. And that meant going home.

The two rode along silently for a long time until Todd finally spoke. “It’s a nice day for travel,” he noted. “Sun’s out and everything.”

Matt nodded. He knew Todd well enough that he understood Todd couldn’t care less about the weather right now. It was just that neither of them wanted to talk about the big pink elephant in the room – the fact that they had both lost someone so near and dear to them. When something like that happens, you look for whatever small positive thing you can talk about instead.

As they drove down the street, they passed a familiar-looking tree.

“All members of Adventure Inc. FALL IN!”“You’re so silly, Richie.”

The voices were practically audible to both of them. But there weren’t really any voices. Not any more. Just shadows of the past. Neither of the guys needed to ask the other if he remembered. They knew the other one was thinking the same thing.

They pulled up to the funeral parlor and stepped inside. Richie was the first one to greet them. He came running up and caught them both in a hug.

“So glad you guys are here,” he finally said through the tears.

“You kidding? No way we wouldn’t come,” Matt told him.

The three finally released the embrace. “We’re so sorry about your sister,” Todd said.

Richie mustered a wan smile. Poor Richie. He was always the most emotional and “dramatic” of the group. For him to lose a family member like this – it was probably twice as hard as it would be for anyone else.

“Did they say how it happened?” Matt asked.

“You didn’t hear? She—she killed herself.”

“Really?”

Richie blew his nose. “I know! She seemed so happy,” he replied. “The whole thing is just . . . “ Then he got too choked up to talk anymore.

“It’s okay, man,” said Todd. “Just relax. Have a seat. We’re going to take a look at the casket.”

Richie nodded and sat down.

Matt and Todd both moved toward the casket. Jenny looked as beautiful as ever, though of course there was sort of that weird look that any dead person has – the “hollowness” of them, as though the person’s spirit has flown away like a butterfly, and the body left behind is just the cocoon.

Todd was still staring at the body when Matt finally spoke up. “You know, there’s a lot of things I can say about Jenny, but you know the one thing about her that sticks out the most?”

The words were almost out of Todd’s mouth before he realized he was saying them. “She’s not the type of person who would ever kill herself?”

“Absolutely,” Matt agreed grimly.

After the funeral, Matt and Todd went to the police station. As private investigators, they were allowed to examine some of the evidence, such as the suicide note, which conveniently had been typed (no way to trace the handwriting).

As they walked out of the police station, Matt says, “I don’t buy this, Todd. It’s not adding up. We really need to do some more investigation into this.”

“I agree that there’s something strange about all of this,” replied Todd. “But are you sure it’s not just our emotions wrung out about the situation? Like, maybe we’re reading more into the situation because it’s easier to accept the loss that way?”

Matt shook his head. “I don’t think so. I don’t deny that my emotions are all messed up over this. But even in spite of that, I think there’s something more to look into here.”

Todd sighed. “I should know better than to try to stop you when you make up your mind about something.”

The next step was the old porch. Jenny’s parents still lived in the house that Jenny had grown up in. Though they were confused by Matt’s request, they let him go down and check underneath the porch.

Using the back edge of a hammer, Matt was able to gently squeeze back a few of the boards that had been bolted onto the side of the porch since they had been kids. Though Matt and Todd were still in their nice clothes from the funeral, they squeezed through the panels as best as they could without getting themselves completely filthy.

There it was: all the artwork and writing they’d added underneath the porch over the years – the doodles of Donald Duck and Mickey Mouse, the words “Adventure ink” (they weren’t very good spellers back then) and “Jenny loves Matt” later crossed out and replaced with “Jenny loves Todd.” Neither man commented on that old rivalry just now.

 As they looked around at the walls, crouched down as they were, a flood of memories came back. “Remember the sleepover, where we scared Jenny and Richie so bad?” Matt said with a laugh.

“How could I forget? What about that time when you were grounded, and we snuck you out through the window to see a movie, but we didn’t even make it as far as the gas station before your mom found out, drove over and berated us loudly in the parking lot in front of everyone?”

 Both men laughed. “I thought my face would stay red permanently!” Matt added.

After catching his breath, Todd said, “Why are we really down here, Matt? There’s nothing wrong with memory lane, but do you really think we’ll find any clues here?”

Matt looked around. “There!” he pointed excitedly. “I knew it would still be here.”

At one end of the porch, there was a very small stick protruding out of the ground.  If most people had seen it, they would have assumed the twig was there by accident. But Matt knew better.

He pulled out the stick and dug down into the ground. He only needed to get a few inches before he pulled up a rusty old round tin that at one time had been used for cookies.

Matt pried open the lid. Just as he expected, there was a letter inside, a letter signed in Crayola by four boys and two girls.

The letter read, in part, “The members of Adventure Inkorporated do hearby somenly swear that if any of them is in trobble, for any reeson, but they can’t say why, they can come get this lettur and send it to any other member, and that member has to come and help them. This is in affect for the rest of our lives.”

“It’s still here,” Matt told Todd. “If there was trouble, she should have sent this!”

Todd shook his head. “You nuts, man? We been in all kinds of trouble when out on a case. Have we ever dug out this letter we wrote as kids and sent it to anybody else?”

“Come on, Todd. Jenny was just as big of a nostalgia nut as I am, if not worse! If she didn’t want to say what was causing her such grief, she would have sent this to—“ Here Matt caught himself—“to somebody in the group.”

“I don’t know. I think a phone call woulda sufficed.”

“But that’s my point! There was no phone call, no letter, nothing to suggest that things had spiraled out of control for her.”

Todd just sighed. “C’mon, dude. Let’s get out from under this porch. It’s been a long day.”

Reluctantly, Matt followed Todd back out from under the porch, bringing the cookie tin and the letter with him. They pounded the boards back into place with the hammer and then went inside to talk to Jenny and Richie’s parents. Mrs. Anderson made them all some coffee.

“I just don’t understand. She was so young, so full of life,” Mrs. Anderson muttered, shaking her head, obviously still in shock.

“And things were really turning around for her too,” Mr. Anderson added.

“Really? How so?” asked Todd.

“She had just been accepted into that prestigious ballet school – what’s the name of it, honey?”

“Jilliard,” his wife replied.

“Yeah, Jilliard. She was so excited about it, too. After working so long and so hard for it . . . “ His voice trailed off.

Todd was now leaning forward intently. “I need a refill,” he said suddenly.

Matt looked at Todd’s cup. It was still half-full. “So do I,” Matt said, and followed Todd into the kitchen.

“What’s up, man?” Matt asked under his breath when they got there.

“The parents never saw the suicide note, did they?”

“No. The investigators found it. Why?”

“Didn’t Jenny’s note say that she was sad that her life was such a failure? And that she’d never make ballerina like she was always wanted?”

“I’m  tracking with you, man. If she just got accepted into Jilliard, why would she kill herself over not becoming a ballerina?”

“Do you think Stacy and Will are still at the hotel?”

“Probably. I’d say this definitely calls for a meeting. Let’s get the old gang back together.”

To be continued . . .

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