Free B003UYURTC EBOK by John Corey Whaley Page A

shivered.
    “You’ve got to calm down.”
    “No. I can’t. Let’s go over there.”
    “What? No.”
    “Yes. Come on.”
    Lucas Cader stormed down my hallway and out the front door. His long, serious stride let me know quickly that he had the full intention of going into Fulton’s house. I ran after him.
    “Lucas, this is ridiculous.”
    “No. I have to do this.”
    He rang the doorbell.
    Ding-dong.
    He rang the doorbell again.
    Ding-dong.
    And again without pause.
    Ding-dong.
    The door opened slowly, the way it would in a horror movie. Shirley Dumas stood before us.
    “Can I help you boys?”
    “Have you seen Gabriel Witter, ma’am?” Lucas asked without any hesitation.
    “No. Is he back?”
    “No. Is he here?” Lucas was not letting up.
    “What are you talking about, boy?” she asked, confused.
    “Is your son here, ma’am?” Lucas asked, stepping into the house and walking past her. I stood on the porch, eyes and mouth wide open.
    “Yes, can I
help
you, Lucas?” She was beginning to get agitated. I stayed on the porch.
    “Fulton!” Lucas shouted, and began to walk down the hallway to Fulton’s bedroom.
    “Well, go on with him, I guess,” Shirley said, waving me past.
    In Fulton’s room I became fully aware of why I had never dared to set foot into that house before. His bed was covered by a G.I. Joe blanket, and on top of it sat what had to have been some forty or fifty stuffed animals. The walls couldn’t be seen for the many posters that had been tacked and taped and glued up. The posters were of things like kittens and monkeys and bears. Fulton was sitting at his computer with a pair of headphones on. He was singing an eighties song out loud when we entered.
    “FULTON!” Lucas shouted, tapping him on the shoulder.
    He turned around quickly and took off the headphones. He looked up at Lucas and over at me. He looked at Lucas again, and then back at me. He did this two more times before Lucas began.
    “Fulton Dumas, do you know where Gabriel Witter is?”
    “No,” he said, his expression changing suddenly from surprised embarrassment to sadness.
    “Are you sure?” Lucas asked.
    “Why would I know where he is?”
    “I don’t know, Fulton. Why do you need a thousand stuffed bears? Have you seen Gabriel Witter?”
    “NO!” Fulton stood up. He was getting angry now as Lucas continued his interrogation. I didn’t try to stop him because I couldn’t think of anything to say. Also, after seeing the room, I figured I’d give Lucas a chance to prove me wrong. I couldn’t watch, though, so I turned around and pretended to admire one of Fulton’s many posters.
    “Were you in love with Gabriel Witter?”
    “Lucas, come on,” I had to interrupt, still too uncomfortable to watch.
    “Shut up, Cullen. Were you, Fulton?”
    “NO!”
    Suddenly the room was quiet, and someone was grabbing my shoulders from behind. It was Fulton. He turned me around and looked me dead in the eyes.
    “Cullen,” he began, “I am so, so sorry that your brother is gone. He was a good one. Very nice and very forgiving and very much like you.” With that said, and then whispered back under his breath, he wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly. I looked at Lucas, whose anger had turned to remorse as he witnessed Fulton Dumas beginning to cry with his head buried into my shoulder blade.
    “It’s okay, Fulton,” Lucas said.
    “Yeah. Everything’s fine. He’ll turn up,” I added.
    “I was just messin’ around, really,” Lucas said.
    Fulton let go and walked out of the room. We walked downthe hall and out of the house in silence. In the front yard I looked over at Lucas, and he was chewing on his bottom lip. He was doing that look that he did when he was overthinking something.
    “It wasn’t Fulton. I was wrong,” he said.
    “You think?” I joked.
    “It was John Barling,” he said confidently as he walked into my house.
    The Lazarus woodpecker was last seen in a forest in North Louisiana