The Snowball Effect Page 2

  I shuffled over to the fogged window and pulled off my balaclava for a better look. Someone was stirring in there. The driver’s head was moving. Whew! A pale face turned to look at me, a woman’s face. She was wearing a thick tuque, pulled down low. There was blood trickling from her nostrils and a swollen, bloody welt on her cheek.

  I could see her mouth moving, but a dorky Christmas song was playing in the car, so I couldn’t hear what she was saying. I yanked on the door handle so I could try to help her somehow, then realized that it was stuck shut because of a deep dent.

  I slipped and slithered around to the passenger door and hauled it open. The woman was still looking out the other window where I’d just been standing. I heard approaching sirens in the distance, and relief washed over me.

  “Don’t worry,” I told her. “The paramedics are on the way. Everything will be fine soon, okay? Can I do anything to help you?”

  She slowly twisted her head in my direction again. “My head is throbbing,” she said. “Could you please turn off that bloody radio?”

  In that instant I realized exactly who was behind the wheel of that car. I felt totally sick all over again. I started blindly pushing buttons until I hit the right one.

  “Thank god,” she said in a strained voice. “What just happened, anyway?”

  “I don’t know,” I told her. “I just got here. I heard a crash and came over to see what happened. And I found your car here.” Sorta true.

  “Wait a minute,” she murmured. “I think something hit my car, just as I was driving under the bridge.”

  “Really?” I said. “I was just heading for the gas station to get some Cheezies for my grandma when I hear the crash. But I didn’t see anything.”

  Was I trying too hard?

  “I think I must have smashed my head,” she told me. “I feel dazed. And my cheek hurts too.” She touched the wound cautiously.

  “It’s bleeding. I’ll get you some ice for it, okay?” I told her. I scrambled out of her car and grabbed one of the random chunks of ice by the side of the road. I wrapped it in a rag that I found on the floor and passed it to her. She dabbed it against her face.

  “Ouch,” she said. “I think that feels better, but I’m not sure yet. I’m freezing. Can you see a plaid blanket in the backseat?”

  “Got it,” I said. I reached over the front seat and grabbed it, then draped it carefully over her shivering shoulders.

  “Thanks.” She offered me a weak smile. “I’m afraid to move. I hope nothing’s broken,” she added.

  The sirens were getting closer. I knew they’d have to be careful on the slippery roads, but I could already see the pulsating red and white flashes in the distance. It was a relief that she would be under the care of experts in a few seconds.

  “The ambulance and police are almost here,” I told her. “Look, I’ve gotta get going or my grandma will worry. She always worries herself sick if she hears sirens and I’m not home. I hope you’ll be okay, ma’am.”

  “You’re a sweet young man,” she said. “You look familiar too. What’s your name? Do you know my daughter, maybe? Her name is Monica.”

  “Um, no, I don’t think so. Take care.”

  And I bolted, just like that. Took off under that bridge at warp speed and disappeared into the darkness just as the emergency vehicles skidded to a stop. When I looked back, paramedics were already swarming to her rescue.

  It wasn’t until a few minutes later that I realized I’d left my balaclava and gloves on the front seat of her car.

  Chapter Four

  I whipped my hood up over my head as I dashed through the dark toward the gas station. When I burst through the door into the fluorescent brightness of the Kwik Stop, a blast of warm air walloped my frozen face.

  “Hey, little dude,” Bud said as soon as he spotted me. “How’s it goin’? Freezin’ out there tonight, huh? How’s your mom, anyway?”

  “Okay,” I told him. “Working hard, as usual.” I tried not to meet Bud’s eyes and slipped into the snack aisle to get my stuff.

  Bud Wilkins liked to blather on whenever anyone stopped by the gas station. He was bored like crazy working there, I figured. He always seemed desperate for someone to talk to. Right at that moment, though, with guilt probably shining like laser beams out of my eyes, I didn’t want to stick around and yap with him.

  “Hey, didn’t you run past here a little while ago?” Bud asked. “You were wearing a balaclava though. I’d recognize that orange coat of yours anywhere.” Nuts!

  “Nope, wasn’t me, Bud. I just got here. Didn’t need my balaclava tonight. I just ran over here to pick up Cheezies for my grandmother,” I said. “She had one of her crazy cravings. Must have been someone else you saw.”

  Now I was the one who was babbling. The last thing Bud needed was encouragement. I had to get out of there fast, or I’d be stuck talking to him for half an hour.

  “Guess so.” Bud frowned. “What’s goin’ on out there, anyways? Thought I heard a loud bang a while ago. And a bunch of emergency trucks just went flying past.”

  “I think there was an accident at the bridge or something. They all seemed to be stopping there.” I rifled around in my pocket for change, still trying to avoid his eyes.

  “Hey, you got a bit of blood on your hand,” he said. “Did you cut yourself?”

  “What?” I looked. There was blood on the side of my hand. My throat clenched. I could barely choke the next words out. “How did that happen?”

  When I was handing her the rag with the chunk of ice wrapped in it. She must have had blood on her hand from the wound. And now her blood was on me!

  “That’s really weird,” I stammered.

  “Let’s see,” Bud said, reaching for my hand. “I think I’ve got a Band-Aid in my drawer. You can wash it off in the can and…”

  “It’s okay,” I snapped and snatched my hand out of his reach. “I’m fine. Look, Bud, I’m in a hurry right now. See ya round.”

  I grabbed the bag of Cheezies off the counter and slammed out the door.

  “Hey, you forgot your change,” I heard him yell behind me. But there was no way I was going back in there!

  The first thing I did when I was out of sight of the gas station was wash the blood off my hand. As I scrubbed at it with a clump of snow, I kept saying, “Out, damned spot.” I think it was a quote from Macbeth. It was something my mom said whenever she tried to wash stains out of my clothes.

  My hands were burning cold, but I didn’t care—I could hardly feel it. I was so freaked out, I couldn’t even think straight.

  Do you know my daughter, maybe?

  Yep, I knew her daughter. I knew her well. Monica Buckley was a girl in my class with shiny black hair, eyes the color of chocolate brownies, and dimples when she smiled.

  And the four of us had made her mom crash her car with our stupid snow bombs.

  I headed for home. I stayed on the side streets, avoiding the main road in case someone was looking for me. I churned through the snow ruts, wishing I’d just stayed home and played cards with Gran tonight. Right now a game of gin rummy at our wobbly kitchen table was the most comforting thought I could conjure. I’d have even traded the last fifteen minutes for a few hours of Gran’s corny jokes right about then.

  Every house I passed had warm light spilling through the windows onto the snow. In some homes people were watching tv, in others they were sitting around the table having a late dinner. Everyone was safe inside their houses, where trouble wasn’t chasing them.

  Some houses had Christmas trees twinkling in their windows already. We hadn’t put ours up yet. Mom didn’t seem to have time for that these days, but she’d promised me and Gran that we’d buy one this Sunday. I wondered if I’d be in jail by Sunday.

  I had to cross the main street again to get to our apartment. I was almost there. Only one more block to go.

  I reached the driveway just as a police cruiser pulled up in front of our building.

  Gulp.
/>
  Chapter Five

  I stopped in my tracks and didn’t budge, hoping that they hadn’t spotted me. Maybe I could sneak down the side of the building and use the back door. I spun around and started walking away. And a car horn honked. Crap!

  “Hey, Dylan? Come over here a minute. I need to talk to you.”

  Sergeant Nicole Vance was one of the local police officers. She was also my mom’s best friend from high school. Every kid in town knew her because she dropped by our school often. At least once a year she spoke at an assembly about boating and snowmobile safety. In a resort area, something nasty happens to somebody every single summer and winter.

  I wasn’t in a hurry to go over there and talk to her. I really felt like making a run for it, but that would have been a dead giveaway. So I scuffed my way across the snowy driveway to her car. She had the window down and was looking at me in her usual perceptive way. My face was burning with dread, and my whole body was shaking like there was an earthquake going on inside of me.

  Her police dog, Prince, was in the back. His huge paws were hanging over the front seat, and he was stretching his neck to check out what was going on. Prince made me nervous. He was a shaggy German shepherd and looked totally terrifying. But Nicole had complete control over him. She called him the best partner an officer could ever hope to have.

  “What’s the matter?” she said. “You cold or something? You’re not even wearing a hat or gloves. That’s kinda crazy on a night like this, don’t you think?”

  “I just ran over to the Kwik Stop to get Cheezies for my grandma,” I told her. I held up the bag like I was trying to prove something.

  “Yeah, I know. I was just over there. Bud told me you had stopped in. That’s why I showed up here. Thought you might have seen something.”

  Double crap!

  That was when I noticed my balaclava and gloves on the car seat beside her.

  Nicole was staring at me, her sharp blue eyes drilling a hole into my thoughts. She glanced over at my gear and then back at me.

  “Know who these belong to?” she said.

  “Yeah,” I murmured, kicking at a chunk of ice with my heavy boot. I still couldn’t meet her gaze. “They’re mine.”

  “Dylan, Bud said that you had blood on your hand. I think I know what happened.” I’d never seen Nicole look so serious, but I was sure a lot of bad guys had.

  “Okay, so I left them there. In that lady’s car,” I admitted. “After I tried to help her. But I guess you figured that out already, didn’t you?”

  “Dylan, you did something heroic tonight!” said Nicole. “Why don’t you want to take credit for it? That woman, Sarah Buckley, wants to know who you are. She wants to thank you. That’s what she was telling everyone when she was getting loaded into the ambulance. She said you were wearing a puffy orange coat.”

  “So she’s okay?” I murmured.

  “I’m sure she’ll be fine by tomorrow,” Nicole told me. “She’s just shaken up. How did you happen on that accident, anyway?”

  “Um…I heard the crash when I was going to the gas station for Cheezies,” I said. I stared at the ground so she wouldn’t see the lie on my face. “So I ran over to see what happened. I didn’t want to make a big deal of it, so I left when help showed up.”

  “But you ran past the gas station and waved at Bud before the crash even happened. He remembered your jacket. And he thought he saw some other kids too. It was a while after that when he heard a loud bang.”

  Triple Crap. “Um, no, that wasn’t me. Like I said, I just went to the gas station for some snacks,” I told her.

  “That’s odd. Bud is certain he saw you before all the emergency vehicles went by. And you came back after that. That’s what he told me, anyway. Maybe he was mistaken.” She shrugged.

  God, I hated my jacket. Gran had found it for me at the Sally Ann. She said I should wear it to be more visible in the winter darkness and in the woods. She was always worried about something happening to me. And, boy, was I ever visible! Why had I been stupid enough to wear it for snow-bombing. Duh.

  “Huh, that’s really weird,” I said. When I swallowed, I felt as if I had a walnut lodged in my throat. “And anyway, half the hunters in this town have coats this color.”

  “So did you call nine-one-one, Dylan?”

  “Nope,” I said, looking her in the eye. “I don’t even own a cell phone.” At least that wasn’t a lie.

  “Well, we’re looking for a witness,” Nicole said. “It looks like a rock or something hit the windshield. Did you happen to notice anything going on before the crash? Did you see anything, Dylan?”

  “Nope, I didn’t see anything, Nicole.” I was chewing on my fingernails. Did that look guilty, or what?

  “Don’t be afraid to tell me if you know something.” Nicole passed my gear through the window. “Think about it, okay? Maybe you’ll remember something.”

  “Okay,” I told her. “I’d better get inside now, or Gran will be worried. See ya round.”

  “Say hi to Stephanie and your grandma for me, Dylan. And take care of yourself, kiddo,” she said as she closed her window.

  “I will,” I told her. “See ya, Nicole. And Prince!”

  I ran inside as she drove off, tires crunching on the icy road. At the elevator I kept punching the button because it was taking so long. I was about to make a dash for the stairs when the doors finally opened. Slowest elevator on the planet!

  Gran was standing in the entrance when I opened the door. She must have heard my key rattling in the lock.

  “Where have you been?” she said, wrapping her arms around me and hugging hard. “I’ve been worried sick since I heard those sirens. And your friends keep calling and asking where you are. I was sure something happened!”

  “Nothing happened, Gran.” I handed her the Cheezies, kicked off my boots and shrugged out of my coat. “There was an accident at the bridge. Who’s been calling, anyway?” And why, I wondered, were they calling me now?

  “It was Garrett,” Gran said. “He was looking for you. But I thought you were with them at Matt’s place. I was really worried when he said you weren’t there!”

  “I was there, for pizza. But then I left Matt’s to go out for snacks,” I told her. “I went to check out the accident at the bridge when I saw all the flashing lights.”

  “You did?” Gran gasped. “Well, what happened?”

  I knew that would get her attention! “A woman crashed her car. Guess she skidded in the snow and hit the wall. She’s okay, though. After that I just went to the Kwik Stop and came home. I knew you’d be worried when you heard the sirens.”

  “You’re such a sweet kid, Dylan,” she said, ruffling my hair.

  Yeah, real sweet, I thought. If only she knew the truth. I felt rotten to the core about the trail of lies I’d left behind me all evening. Like a snowball rolling downhill, my lie kept growing bigger and bigger. I wondered where it would stop.

  When the phone rang a few minutes later, I grabbed it on the first ring.

  “Dillweed,” Garrett said when he heard my voice. I cringed. “Where are you? We’ve been waiting for you to show up back at Matt’s place. We need to talk to you. What happened over there, anyway? Did you go look?”

  “Yeah, I looked. She’s okay. She’s in the hospital. A cop told me.”

  I heard him suck in his breath. “You talked to a cop? When?”

  “When she pulled up in front of my apartment. It was Sergeant Vance. She was waiting for me when I got home,” I told him.

  “So what did she want? What did you tell her?” There was a challenge in his voice.

  “Nothing. I didn’t tell her anything.” I couldn’t hide the anger in my voice. Garrett was more worried about himself than the driver of the car that had crashed because of us. Because of our lame booby-trapped snow bombs.

  “Yeah, well, just keep your mouth shut about it, okay?” Garrett said before he hung up.

  I put down the receiver, stared at the phon
e and tried to swallow the snowball-sized lump in my throat.

  Chapter Six

  I didn’t sleep well that night. I tossed and turned until I heard my mom come home after 2:00 am. My room was right beside the kitchen, so I could hear every word Mom and Gran said. Mom already knew all about the accident. And even worse, she’d already heard that I was at the scene, helping out the victim.

  “The paramedics dropped by afterward. They were just finishing their shift,” Mom was telling Gran. “When Sarah Buckley described the kid in the orange jacket who’d helped her, they knew right away that it was Dylan. Everybody in town knows that coat, I guess!”

  That stupid, stupid coat!

  “My stars! Why, he didn’t even tell me that, Steph,” Gran exclaimed. “I guess he’s a reluctant hero. Maybe he’s shy about the attention.”

  “I’ll talk to him about it tomorrow,” Mom said. “This might have shaken him up. For now, we’ll let him sleep. He’s had an exciting evening.”

  Little did she know how exciting. I punched my pillow and kicked at my blankets as if I was running a race. How could I face them in the morning? How could I face anyone with this guilt gnawing like a rat at my guts?

  Should I just tell them the truth? If I did, though, Garrett, Cory and Matt might get arrested. Maybe even me too! We could wind up in juvenile court. It would be totally my fault. And Garrett would never let me forget it!

  I buried myself under my covers to block out the sound of their voices. And I tried my best not to think about the snowball of lies that was rolling out of control.

  On Saturday morning the ringing phone woke me up right in the middle of a dream. In the dream there were sirens and flashing lights, and I had blood all over my hands. I was running through deep, heavy snow and getting nowhere. Talk about a guilty conscience! I thought the phone was part of the dream, until Gran knocked hard on my door.