Castles Read Online Free PDF

finality. The end. No future.

3
     
    Michael was at the funeral. He was dressed in a blue suit I'm sure he'd never worn before, a yellow tie clipped to his neck. As the priest spoke words that blended together into an incomprehensible burble, I kept looking up from the coffin in front of me, hoping to catch Michael's wandering eyes. I felt foolish, sad, alive, scared, giddy and rejected all at the same time. My mind was a jumble of emotions, like someone had taken the best and the worse, tossed them into a bowl of Honey Nut Crunch, poured in some sour milk and stirred it up with a whisk.
    When the funeral was over, Michael walked over. He had his hands in his pockets and he refused to look at me. In that instant, I fell in love. Granted, I had no idea what love was outside of Grandma's version. Still, it felt nice.
    "Hi," he said. "Sorry."
    I smiled weakly. I wanted to kiss him, for no other reason than to say I'd kissed a boy. Grandma was right; I could feel the connection between Michael and myself. If I could see the astral plane, I'm sure his aura would have been painted my favorite color.
    He opened his mouth briefly then looked away. "I went back to the Bus."
    My heart sank. All of those feelings mixed in the bowl of emotional cereal must have turned my stomach. Images of the funeral and Grandma, images of Michael and his lips suddenly coalesced into a black hole. In seconds, the only thing left in my head was that damned thing I'd seen on the floor of the Bus, crying.
    "Yeah?" My voice cracked.
    "The body wasn't there." He looked back at me briefly. In his eyes, I could see confusion and fear—the same look I probably had when I'd made the same trip.
    My mouth was dry. "I know."
    " Maggie! " Mama yelled from the car on the street. I hadn't realized the only people left near the gravesite were the caretakers and the two of us. People leave funerals a lot faster than they arrive.
    "Did you go back?" Michael asked.
    "Yeah."
    "You didn't tell me."
    "I didn't tell anyone."
    Michael nodded and looked down again. He shuffled his feet. "I found something I want to show you."

4
     
    "What is it?" I looked at the jar he'd just pulled from his freezer. Inside, there was a black, leathery looking thing, the thing I feared the most. It was much larger than I remembered. Then again, I'd spent all of two seconds with it in the confines of that Bus. Michael had it coiled in the jar, its head mashed against the glass.
    He set the jar on the kitchen table and sat down. I pulled up a chair, sliding it as close to him as I could without being too obvious.
    I tapped the side of the jar. "Have you taken it out?"
    "It's frozen right now. It would break. Besides, I really don't want to touch the thing again."
    I looked closer, leaning in despite my fear. The face against the glass made it difficult to see features, but there were definitely two eyes and some ugly teeth. The image I'd carried of the last time I'd seen this thing were quickly replaced with a new version and new sound effects. When it looked up at me, I knew then it wasn't really crying; it must have screamed at me.
    I glanced at Michael then back to the jar. I noticed for the first time how good Head and Shoulders smelled, especially in Michael's hair. "What do you call it?"
    "An eel, I guess. There's no water, though."
    "Kind of looks like a snake, but the teeth are so big."
    "So, it's an eel that lives in the dust." Michael smiled and pulled the jar closer to him. "I'm going to turn this in and get some money. Maybe we can give it a name."
    "Did you tell anyone?"
    "No. My mom hasn't found it yet, and I don't want her to. I wanted to show you first, though. Since . . ."
    I wanted him to say something sweet at that moment, something that would give me a reason to kiss him. I looked at the way he held the jar with both hands and stared through the glass at the beast we'd both discovered. We would be famous, together on magazine covers and on television shows. All that time