Page 24 of Hoodoo House
“So, you’re not a detective?” Henry asked.
“No. I’m his assistant.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’m the man behind the detective—the guy who cracks the codes for him. The one who works silently in the background, hacking his way into people’s computers to find out their secrets.”
Henry stared at him, his mouth open. “That is so cool!”
As they walked towards the front of the house, Charlie looked more closely at the hall and noted that there were doors which opened to the left and the right.
“There’s only a few small rooms on the main floor. The first two are Gramma Carol’s bedroom and a bathroom on the other side. The back of the house, where we just came from, is of course the kitchen. And at the front of the house are the two really big rooms. That’s what I’d like to show you first.”
At the foot of the stairs, to the left of the main door, Henry led Charlie through a dark oak archway covered by faded red velvet curtains. Henry parted the curtains to reveal a large room. It was empty except for a large table set up near the far window. Henry took Charlie straight to it. On top of the table was a jigsaw puzzle. What was strange was that it was upside-down with the backing of the puzzle facing upwards.
“I see you like doing jigsaw puzzles,” Charlie said. “Do you play them like that to make it more challenging?”
“It’s easier this way.” Henry leaned in towards Charlie. “Sometimes, if it’s picture side up, I spend so much time looking at the bit of the picture I’ve assembled that I never get around to finishing it. Gramma Carol said if I do it this way, I can focus better… I have issues.”
“You’re not the only one,” Charlie said with a wink before sitting down across from him.
Henry began working on the puzzle, taking pieces and expertly fitting them into place.
Charlie said, “So, Mrs Cameron takes care of you?”
“Yeah. My mom’s dead. Gramma Carol was a good friend of my Gramma Rachael who took care of me after my mom died. And then when Gramma Rachael got sick and was dying, Gramma Carol said she would take care of me. I think Gramma Carol and Gramma Rachael used to be more than friends, if you know what I mean. Gramma Carol’s also my teacher. I don’t think like other kids, so it’s easier if I’m homeschooled.”
In the corner of the room, Charlie spied a stack of comic books. “It looks like you’re a fan of comics.”
Henry’s eyes lit up. “They’re the best! Do you like them too?”
“I used to love them when I was your age,” Charlie replied.
“Which did you like?”
“I’d have to say Spider-Man was my favourite. I used to fantasize about swinging from tall buildings, which was weird because I was terrified of heights.”
Henry laughed.
“How about you?” Charlie asked.
Henry dove for the stack of comic books and shoved one at Charlie. “This is my favourite.Momrath and The Slithe. Do you know it?”
“No. Is it new?”
“It’s been around forever. Five years, at least.”
Henry flipped open the comic and thrust it into Charlie’s face. It showed a picture of a slim character, dressed all in black. He stood, legs spread apart, arms straight out from his sides. In one hand was a blackbostaff, the weapon of a martial arts specialist. He faced a huge, muscled goliath.
“That’s Momrath,” Henry said, pointing to the giant brute. “And that’s The Slithe,” he said of the slim man in black. “He was Marty Finn, a mail clerk working at a chemical production factory who came across Momrath during a break-in. Momrath threw him into an experimental chemical vat. Well, you know the way it always goes. Powerless kid gets super-human powers and tries to hunt down the man who turned him into a superhero.”
“Comics are amazing, aren’t they?” Charlie said.
“I hope to get a job working in a comic-book store when I get a bit older. But there isn’t one in Rosebud, and Drumheller’s a bit too far for me to get to. I love to draw my own comics, too. I’m hoping to get good enough to get them published.”
Henry slid a few pages at Charlie, who glanced at them. Henry was creating his ownMomrath and TheSlithecomic books.
“These are good,” he told Henry.
