Page 32 of Freak Camp
He really didn’t want to ask for anything, like he expected Jake to go out of his way for a monster’s requests.He remembered the last time he had complained to Becca about being hungry.“We’re all hungry, Tobias,” she snapped.“Monsters always are.It’s nothing special or different from anyone around you, and it’s not going to change anytime soon.No one wants to hear about it.”But later that day, she had brought him a hunk of bread half as big as his head, all for him to eat.
As Tobias ate the potato chips, Jake went on full-speed about their drive up the California coast after a rumored pair of djinn.Tobias liked to hear him talk, and Jake knew that Tobias didn’t have much news to tell him or anything cool to share, so he usually did all the talking.
But now, as Jake’s story wound down, Tobias took the opportunity to ask what he’d been hoping to for a while.“What’s it like—out there in the real world?”
Jake stopped completely, looking at him in surprise, but Tobias didn’t look away.He knew it was okay, safe, because Jake wanted Tobias to look him in the eye.He reminded Tobias every visit.
“It’s ...”Jake trailed off, unusually lost for words.“What do you mean, Toby?What do you want to know?”
Tobias shrugged.
“I don’t know, it’s just—really big.”Jake waved his hands apart.“And people are mostly the same everywhere you go.They believe the same stories, anyway, even if they talk a little different place to place.But it’s mostly the same ...”
Tobias waited patiently, but Jake looked more uncomfortable than he’d ever seen him.He fidgeted with the peeling rubber on the edge of his tennis shoe, and Tobias’s confidence faded.He was about to tell Jake not to worry about it, about to apologize for asking stupid questions, when Jake started talking.
***
Jake had seen moreof the country than just about any kid his age, but now he had trouble fitting it into words.It was hard to remember that Toby had seen nothing Jake had, had no frame of reference for comparison, didn’t know any of the TV or movie jokes.No matter how hard Jake tried to describe the small towns he and Dad dropped into for a few days or weeks, or a Little League baseball game, or some idiots faking a haunting in an abandoned house—Tobias’s eyes never showed comprehension.He gazed unwaveringly at Jake, listening to every word, but they weren’t getting anywhere.
It frustrated Jake more than he could say, made him almost want to punch something.Bringing Toby presents made him feel good, useful and important, more than anything else in his life did, and this was the first big thing Toby had asked him.It killed Jake that he couldn’t give it to him.
He bit off his words, realizing what he had been about to say:just wait, Toby, someday I’ll show you myself, I’ll take you there.He couldn’t promise Tobias that.Tobias was a monster in Freak Camp, and monsters didn’t leave.Not until they died.
Jake looked away, rubbing his palms on his knees as he tried to ignore the tight pressure building in his chest.It hurt the same way it did when he thought too much about Mom.
“Jake?”Tobias huddled closer, almost leaning against Jake’s side.“What’s the matter?”
Jake swallowed, throwing his arm around Toby’s shoulders.He couldn’t have said why it eased the pain inside, though he did notice how Tobias relaxed a fraction, leaning back into the touch.
“Nothing, Toby,” he said, though he wanted to say,This friggin’ sucks.I hate this.“I’ll bring you some pictures next time, okay?”
***
When they got backfrom their next trip to Mexico, Jake and Dad stopped at a motel outside El Paso and split up piles of newspapers.Dad was hot on the trail of another monster, one that tended toward cattle mutilation but wasn’t above the occasional mysterious murder, and he wanted to check everything.
Jake had ended up with the older state papers.Even though they weren’t likely to have anything about their case, research was important.Dad had told him that, and even his gr—Elijah Dixon had told him that, which wasalmostlike Mom telling him too.So Jake read—okay, he skimmed, looking for any unusual deaths or mysterious disappearances.
He was about to skip all ofThe Oklahomanbecause it was a couple of weeks old and he was fairly sure Dad had gone through it already, when a smaller article on the front page caught his eye.
DIXONS, ASC LOOK AHEAD AFTER PATRIARCH’S DEATH
The nation mourns a hero this week with the death of Elijah Dixon, father of Sally Dixon-Hawthorne and longtime director of the Agency for Supernatural Control (ASC) and the Facility for Research, Elimination, and Containment of Supernaturals (FREACS).He passed away at the age of 64 from heart failure.Those closest to Dixon admitted that he had been having health trouble for some time, but he had been unwilling to let down the country or weaken the ASC by stepping down from his extensive duties.
“While we are all grieved by this loss, we will move forward,” said Jonah Dixon, nephew of the deceased and presumed successor for the directorship of the ASC and FREACS.“The ASC will not stop because Elijah has left us, and we would disgrace his memory by faltering in our mission now.You may expect the ASC to strengthen, grow more vigilant, and take new measures to protect our country from the supernatural menace.”
“Hey, Dad.”Jake slid the paper onto Leon’s pile.“Did you see this?”
Leon glanced at the newspaper.“Yeah, I saw it.”
“Did they ...invite us to the funeral or anything?I mean, you didn’t like each other, but ...”He was my grandfather.
Leon shrugged.“Haven’t heard anything.Not like we would go anyway.”
Jake nodded.“Course.”
“Find any incidents in your papers?”
“Yeah, but only a few.”He told Dad about the handful of mutilations he’d found in the national papers, and they agreed those probably weren’t significant.
