The Masked Family (10 page)

 

*****

El Yucatango flung Cary aside like a golf club and kept right on bellowing at the sunbathers around the pool of the beachfront resort.

"I have
returned
from exile!" he said, pounding his chest with his fists. "I challenge El Demonio del Diamante to defend the championship he
stole
from me!"

Cary clambered up, brushing sand off his clothes and out of his racing-striped red hair, and headed for the
caballero pagado
once more. Maybe, when it came to capping off his craziness, the third time would be the charm.

Taking a walk on the beach hadn't seemed like such a bad idea at first. El Yucatango had suggested it to clear their heads and plan strategy.

In retrospect, Cary realized, what El Yucatango had had in mind was to tell everyone he saw that he was calling out the Diamond Demon for a grudge match...tell everyone in the loudest, craziest, most threatening way possible.

The latest victims were swimsuited, pale-skinned Americans lounging at poolside. Ninety percent of them looked college age or younger, and ninety-nine percent of them snickered and whispered to each other while El Yucatango ranted.

"You are the
first
to hear my challenge!" El Yucatango spread his arms wide to encompass his audience. "You must
tell
el Demonio del Diamante that El Yucatango is
here
, and I will not
leave
until I
wrestle
him and regain my
honor
!"

Cary approached El Yucatango, taking care not to get close enough for the super-hero wrestler to grab and toss him again. El Yucatango had quite a few years on Cary, but he was so much stronger that Cary had no hope of winning any kind of struggle with him.

"El Demonio del Diamante will
kneel
before me!" El Yucatango flung his arms overhead and pumped his fists in the air. "I will
snap
him like a
twig
and
crush
his bones into
powder
! His
evil
will
not
survive another
day
!"

With that, he threw his head back and let loose a grizzly bear roar at the blazing sun.

To Cary's surprise, El Yucatango got a round of applause after that. Everyone at poolside clapped and cheered and whistled.

El Yucatango looked around at them, then roared again, louder than the first time.

A twentysomething guy with a blond crewcut and tattooed shoulders walked over. "Great act, man," he said as he handed El Yucatango a ten-dollar bill. "You're all right."

As the man walked away, El Yucatango yelled at him. "Tell El Demonio del Diamante! Tell him what I said!"

Cary stepped closer then, hoping he wouldn't get tossed. "Come on," he said, waving for El Yucatango to follow him. "Time to go."

"Yes! Time to spread the word somewhere else!" He made a grab for Cary with a swipe of his hammy paw.

Cary ducked out of the way. "No more spreading the word," he said. "We had an agreement."

El Yucatango nodded. "Three meals a day."

Cary jabbed him in the chest with an index finger. "
Kids first
, remember?" He turned and walked off over the sand, away from the resort and toward the surf.

"Oh, yeah." El Yucatango walked after him, a little deflated. "Kids first."

Cary sighed and shook his head. "I'm not kidding. We need to find them fast."

El Yucatango remained silent for a moment. "The people who took them," he said finally. "You think they might hurt them?"

"They're bad people," said Cary. "The father especially."

"Father?" El Yucatango stared grimly at him through the purple-rimmed eyeholes of his pillowcase mask. "Who are these people, exactly, Beacon?"

Cary hesitated. He knew it wouldn't sound good when he said it. "They're the biological parents."

El Yucatango nodded. He put a hand on Cary's shoulder and gave it a squeeze through the leather jacket. "And you? Did you adopt these children?"

"No." Cary felt a flash of worry that El Yucatango might turn against him. Maybe he should have lied about Crystal and Drill...but he'd thought it would be better to be up front with his co-rescuer. If he'd lied, and the truth had come out at a bad time, the whole operation could have gone right down the tubes.

"But you called them 'my kids,'" said El Yucatango. "
Your
kids."

Cary gazed out at the glittering blue water of the Gulf of California. "I lived with them for a while. They were my family."

"So what makes the parents such bad people?" said El Yucatango.

"Heroin," said Cary. He met El Yucatango's stare, then looked back out at the water. "Are you going to help me find them?"

El Yucatango smacked him hard enough on the back to jerk him forward a step. "Of course I am! What are super-pals for?"

Cary was relieved. "So where do we start?"

El Yucatango threw an arm around Cary's shoulders and shook him hard. "Lucha libre! A tag team wrestling match against El Demonio del Diamante! If the fiends are in town, they'll be at that match!"

Cary glared at him without saying a word.

"Or," said El Yucatango, "we could ask around."

 

*****

They're not here. They're not in Puerto Peñasco.

Even as Cary bought a beer and a fish taco for yet another supposed informant in yet another ramshackle seaside bar, he had a terrible feeling in his heart. He was starting to think he'd come to the wrong town, and Glo and Late were forever out of reach.

"Don't worry, Beacon," El Yucatango had told him between informants sixteen and seventeen. "This is a tourist town. New faces have a way of blurring together.

"But we're super-heroes. We'll find them."

Cary wanted to believe him, but his hope was running out faster than the money in the pocket of his bluejeans. As the latest informant--number twenty-seven--drank his beer and ate his fish taco and shook his head again and again, Cary was ready to give up for the night. Maybe for good.

With a bottle of beer in his hand, he waved off El Yucatango's introduction to yet another informant and wandered off to sit on the sand.

Those poor kids. I let them down.

He sipped his beer and watched moonlight ripple on the wavetips. A cool breeze from the gulf ruffled his hair and shirt.

Story of my life.

Not far away, water slapped the hulls of pleasure boats moored to a restaurant's private dock. The sound of a mariachi band filtered in from farther away than that, horns and guitars and maracas dabbling in the night.

Some super-hero I am.

He wondered what he would do next if he couldn't find the kids in Puerto Peñasco. Where would he go from here?

Would he keep searching, praying that a lucky break would lead him to the right corner of Mexico? Or would he go home and try to pick up the pieces? Try not to imagine what their lives would be like?

Try not to hate himself forever for letting them slip away.

That was one of the reasons he'd tried so hard...because he'd seen it coming but hadn't acted fast enough. He'd known for months that Crystal had been pulling away from him; he'd even guessed that she'd been reconnecting with Drill. But he'd been dumb enough to think he had more time to work things out before she bolted with the kids. He'd miscalculated, and then the kids were gone.

Was that entirely true, though? Was it all just a big miscalculation?

Or had it been just as much fear and avoidance?

Maybe that was the real reason his super-powers had yet to kick in.

Cary slipped the Starbeam Ring from his finger and gazed at it in the moonlight. He felt like he was seeing it for the first time, like it belonged to someone else who deserved it and the powers it bestowed.

He was just about to pitch it into the gulf when El Yucatango ambled over and plopped down beside him.

"We need a room for the night." El Yucatango hiked a thumb over his shoulder. "I know a good place for not much money."

"Done trying?" Cary's tone was sarcastic. "Your buddies got enough beer and tacos?"

El Yucatango snorted. "You need sleep, Beacon. That's why I ask about a room."

"What I need is to find those kids," snapped Cary.

"How long did you say you've gone without sleep?"

"Couple days." Out on the water, Cary saw something dark and shiny roll up and back under the surface. "Doesn't matter."

"You're ready to pass out any minute now." El Yucatango chuckled. "Don't expect me to catch you when you fall."

"Fine, because I'm not tired." Even as he said it, Cary knew he was totally exhausted. His eyes hurt, his muscles ached, and his head felt like it was packed with cotton. The three beers he'd drunk while meeting with the informants seemed to have pushed him over the edge.

"You'll need sleep for tomorrow, Beacon," said El Yucatango. "I won't take you to those kids in the shape you're in."

"Oh, right," said Cary. "Better rest up so I can buy beer and tacos for the other half of town. Then I've gotta wrestle the Diamond Demon."

El Yucatango scooped up a fistful of sand and flung it at Cary before he could duck. "Wrong again,
cómico
. Tomorrow we find your kids."

Cary brushed sand from his clothes. "Not in the mood for a motivational speech right now."

Suddenly, El Yucatango's huge hands lashed around and grabbed hold of Cary's shoulders. Before Cary knew what was happening, he was pinned on his back on the beach.

El Yucatango and his beer breath hovered over him. "Señor Beacon, you don't understand. What I'm saying is, the last man I talked to told me where they are."

Cary could hardly believe what he was hearing. "Where?"

"You'll find out tomorrow, when you can think straight." El Yucatango laughed.

"Where
are
they?" said Cary.

"Not till after your nap," said El Yucatango. "Now you aren't going to make Papá put you in a sleeper hold, are you?"

Cary shook his head, and it was settled.

 

*****

Chapter Nineteen

Confluence, Pennsylvania, 2006

At first, and for a while, Celeste thought that she and the others were talking to an old woman.

Such was not the case, strictly speaking.

The confusion could have been avoided if Baron had just told her who the old woman really was...but no. He'd turned bitchy after Paisley's "fuck-man" cracks and had hardly said a word the whole way from Erie to Confluence.

That was why, when the person kneeling in the middle of the giant floral fireman's helmet smiled at her, Celeste didn't realize she was anything but a garden-variety, silver-haired, seventysomething old woman.

"Excuse me." Suddenly, Baron didn't sound the least bit bitchy. "Mary Anne Filigree?"

The old woman looked out from behind sunglasses with green-tinted lenses the size of pizzas. "Yes?" She wore a broad-brimmed straw hat, a green chiffon scarf around her throat, a mint-green blouse with untucked tail, and bluejeans of a dark, unfaded near-indigo. The garden in which she knelt was in the front parking lot of a plant nursery called
In the Bud
.

"I hope you can help us find someone," said Baron. "His name is Cary Beacon. He's our brother."

Mary Anne frowned. "Has something happened to Cary?"

"We don't know," said Baron, "but he's missing."

Mary Anne dropped the trowel that she'd been working with and got to her feet. She moved slowly, planting one foot first and putting all her weight on it as she brought the other forward.

"I haven't seen him in years, I'm sorry to say. He hasn't stayed in touch." Mary Anne hobbled out of the fire helmet garden and lightly touched Baron's wrist. "Won't you please introduce us, dear?" She nodded in the direction of Celeste and Paisley.

"Of course." As Baron turned, he slipped a hand around to cup Mary Anne's elbow. "Mary Anne, this is Celeste Beacon, my sister. Celeste, this is Mary Anne Filigree."

Celeste smiled and shook Mary Anne's hand. "Nice to meet you, Mary Anne."

"Likewise." Mary Anne cocked her head and gazed into Celeste's eyes with great, searching intensity.

Paisley didn't wait for Baron to introduce her, maybe because she wasn't sure he would. "And I'm Paisley Beacon." She shook out her wild black mane, then stepped forward and seized Mary Anne's hand. "I'm having a baby and losing my mind, if you'd like to know."

Mary Anne moved her searching gaze to Paisley. "So nice to meet you, dear. Losing your mind isn't as bad as they say. Take it from someone who knows."

"You're a ray of sunshine, Mary Anne." Paisley kissed her hand. "What's with the fire helmet?"

"It's a tribute, dear," said Mary Anne. "To someone who once saved my life."

Celeste was startled by the mention of a life saved from a fire. She stepped to one side of Mary Anne and took a closer look at the garden spread out before her.

The garden included a mix of red geraniums and yellow marigolds, arranged in the shape of a fireman's helmet. An I.D. plate on the face of the helmet, also laid out in flowers, featured two initials,
MB
.

"Do you think Cary's in some kind of trouble?" said Mary Anne.

"We hope not," said Baron, "but we don't really know."

Mary Anne sighed. "I wish I could do something to help."

"Maybe you can," said Celeste. She held up the spiral-bound
Secret Plan
notebook. "Cary left what we think are clues, but we haven't been able to figure them all out. Would you mind...?"

"Not at all." Mary Anne gestured toward the nursery's nearby central building. "Will you come with me while I get my reading glasses?"

On the outside, the building was nondescript--just a red brick box with a shingled roof. When Celeste followed Mary Anne through the front door, however, she walked into an explosion of surprises.

Every square inch of the room overflowed with firefighting paraphernalia. The place looked like a firefighter museum...though, really, the contents were arranged so chaotically and creatively that it was more like an art exhibit with a firefighter theme.

The walls were covered with helmets and axes and boots and masks and uniforms. Segments of fire hose and ladders framed newspaper stories and photos of firefighters in action.

Stuffed dalmatians and toy fire engines of all sizes hung from the ceiling on fishing line. The light rig from a fire truck perched over the doorway at the opposite end of the room, slowly flashing.

On the sale floor, amid the shelves of gardening tools and seeds and bric-a-brac, sat what looked like an old-fashioned firehouse bell with a hand crank.

"I like what you've done with the place," said Paisley as she pushed in behind Celeste. "It's very hot."

"Thank you, dear." Mary Anne hobbled over to a display case in a far corner of the room. The counter on top of the case was occupied by a cash register and a mountain of odds and ends. "It's a work in progress."

Mary Anne took off her gardening hat and hung it from a red oxygen tank on the wall. Next, she untied her green chiffon scarf and tugged it from around her throat.

It was then that Celeste noticed something odd about Mary Anne. She quickly decided she was seeing things, because what she thought she saw had to be impossible...but it was right there in front of her.

She took a few steps closer, trying to act casual as she angled for a better look.

"So where has he been living?" said Mary Anne as she fished through the odds and ends on the counter. "Cary, that is."

"Wheeling, West Virginia." Celeste took another step closer and moved to one side, but what she'd seen in the first place didn't change.

"Is he married? Any children?" Mary Anne made a futile grab for some of the odds and ends as they broke away and hit the floor.

"Neither." Celeste hunkered down and gathered up the stuff that had fallen off the counter--mostly invoices and unopened mail. When she handed them back to Mary Anne, she got her closest look yet and knew she hadn't made a mistake.

Mary Anne had an Adam's apple.

"If you can't find your glasses," said Baron, "Celeste can just read you the clue."

"Ta-da!" Mary Anne held up a pair of dark-framed glasses. "Thanks, but I can read it for myself now."

Celeste couldn't take her eyes off Mary Anne's Adam's apple as she fumbled with the
Secret Plan
. "Here you go," she said, opening the notebook to the next clue in the series and handing it over to Mary Anne.

"How did you say you know Cary again?" said Paisley.

"Hey, Sis." Suddenly, for the first time that day, Baron spoke directly to Paisley. "You think Pretzel's okay out there in your car? Maybe you ought to check on him."

Paisley looked at Baron like he'd just turned purple. "Well, look at this," she said, her voice ringing with false sweetness. "Someone let a big jackass in here."

"Okay, I've got it." Mary Anne had put on her glasses and was bent over the
Secret Plan
, pointing with a fingertip at the text. "I know the answer."

"Now that was fast," said Paisley. "Let's hear it."

"First, let me ask you a question," said Mary Anne. "Has it occurred to you he might not
want
to be found?"

"Now there's a thought," said Paisley.

Celeste ran her fingertips over the cool, rough surface of the antique fire bell. "I have a feeling he needs help," she said. "A strong feeling."

Mary Anne sat back on a stool behind the display case. "When
I
disappeared, I didn't want to be found. How well do you know your brother now, anyway?"

"Baron and I know nothing," said Paisley. "Neither of us has talked to him in years."

"Cary and I are close." Celeste felt a little insulted that someone she'd never met before was questioning her relationship with Cary.

"You might be surprised what you don't know about him," said Mary Anne. For an instant, her sweet old lady smile curled into what looked to Celeste like a smirk...and then melted back into hospitable mush. "When you find him, maybe you can all get reacquainted."

"First thing I'll ask him about is you." Paisley grinned with false sweetness.

"Oh, I
like
you." Mary Anne chuckled. "You remind me of myself."

"A pregnant smartass?" said Paisley.

"Well, not the pregnant part," said Mary Anne. "I've never been pregnant, I'm sorry to say."

"That's too bad." Paisley batted a puppy-sized stuffed dalmatian that hung from the ceiling in front of her. "It never took, huh?"

"I couldn't get pregnant," said Mary Anne.

Paisley was about to say something else, but Baron interrupted. "So, Mary Anne," he said, stepping up to the counter. "You said you knew the answer?"

"Yes." Mary Anne looked down and read from the notebook page in front of her. "'Go to the boy who helped protect the magic castle from fire-breathing dragons.'"

"So who's the boy?" said Paisley.

Mary Anne smiled. She slipped off the reading glasses and folded them shut with a
click
. "You know him well," she said. "His initials are 'E.Q.'"

"Dad?" Baron shook his head. "What does Dad have to do with a magic castle and fire-breathing dragons?"

"And how do you know about it?" said Paisley.

Mary Anne sighed. "It's ancient history," she said. "I'd better let your father tell you about it."

Eyes narrowed, Paisley strolled over and leaned her elbows on the counter in front of Mary Anne. "Look," she said. "You can tell us, Mary Anne. Did you have an affair with our father?"

"Thanks for your help, Mary Anne," said Baron. He took hold of Paisley's shoulder and tried to pull her away from the counter. "We'd better get going now."

"Tell us, fire lady," said Paisley. "I promise, I won't be mad."

Mary Anne frowned. "No, I did not have an affair with your father. For one thing, he would never cheat on your mother."

"Well that's good to know," said Paisley.

"For another thing," said Mary Anne, "he wasn't attracted to women who used to be men."