Author's Note: All right folks, here's the last chapter. I'd like to thank all of you for reading this far! And hopefully, you will review it once you're done. I've finished writing my second Eerie, Indiana fanfic, which I am typing up and will post sometime soon. So until then, later!
The situation is now code red. I, Marshall Teller, have been arrested. Well, technically "Dash" is arrested but I'm the one suffering.
I was sitting in one of the two jail cells in Eerie's dinky little police station. I could see the one officer on duty this evening at his desk watching a small black and white TV. Every now and then, he laughed and scarfed Cheetos.
Behold, the vigilance of Eerie police. No wonder the forces of weirdness ran amok.
Anyways, my hope was starting to dwindle. At least my hunger was lessened by the TV dinner the officer had given me. But, I had been here for two hours now. What had I been hoping for a jail break? Yeah, but the chances were low for Dash to switch when his body was sitting in jail. I hoped Simon can convince the jerk.
I was silently cursing Dash, who was probably at my home living it up, when my body walked into the station.
To say I was surprised wouldn't cover the half of it. In addition, to Dash (confusion) was Simon (no surprise) but my math teacher Mr. Santini (major confusion).
The officer didn't even notice he had visitors. Mr. Santini approached the officer's desk with a nervous look, while Dash and Simon made their way to my cell.
"Marshall, you okay? We came as soon as Dash could get out of the house," Simon said with an anxious expression. I had to raise my jaw, which was still open in shock. I nodded to my pal earnestly.
Dash smirked at my surprised expression. "Didn't you have any faith I'd come?"
"No," I answered truthfully. Dash laughed and said, "Good. You're learning."
Learning? I guess so. Dash basically had no limits to how he lived. No memory, no past to build on. His future could be what he made of it, the sky's the limit. The only person Dash has to answer to is Dash. He chose to live in the present but still he kept searching behind him for something to ground him.
"You don't really want to be 'trapped' in my body?" I asked cautiously.
Dash leaned against the bars of the cell and stared at the ceiling. "I want to know who I am. I only stay in Eerie because I was told I could find the answer here. If I took on your identity how can I find the truth?" he asked.
In other words, it all boiled down to what Dash gained and what he would lose.
By staying in my body, he would gain a home and a family. Yet, lose the possibility of finding out the truth. To tell the truth, if I was Dash, the first choice was the one I would have chosen.
But he's a lot braver than I give him credit for.
"Well, I still hope you'll give up the petty thieving," I answered.
"Tsk, Tsk. You sure are brave, Teller. Trying to be my friend, when you're such a dork," Dash said, shaking his head.
"Well, I guess we're both stubborn in our own way," I said with a smile.
Dash frowned. "Stop it. You're trying to create a 'moment.' And wipe that buddy smile off my face!"
I shook my head laughing but stopped cold as I glanced over at the policeman and Mr. Santini.
"So, what's the plan? And what is Mr. Santini doing here?" I asked sharply.
"Oh, just helping out," Dash answered mysteriously.
I looked at Simon.
"Don't ask me, Marshall. He wouldn't tell me anything, the jerk. And you've got a bigger problem anyway," Simon remarked darkly.
"What's bigger than being arrested?" I asked, cautiously.
Before Simon could answer though, Dash shushed us. I leaned against the bars of the cell and strained to hear what Mr. Santini was discussing with the officer.
"That's right. The punk stole from my house. I just need to borrow him for a while. Get him to show me where he hid my things," Mr. Santini stated angrily.
The cop was hesitant. He clearly didn't want to leave his precious TV set. My heart was pounding louder the longer they talked.
"I don't need assistance from you, officer. Just give me some cuffs, and I'll make sure he doesn't flee from me," Mr. Santini continued.
The cop's attitude did a one eighty once he heard he didn't need to leave his TV. Thus, twenty minutes later, I was out of there!
Mr. Santini didn't say much at all. Even after I profusely thanked him. Once we were a considerable distance from the police station, Mr. Santini promptly uncuffed me and practically bolted.
I stared after him. "What was that all about?" I demanded. I looked to Dash, of course.
Dash merely looked extremely pleased with himself. "Let's just say I got something out of this mess after all."
"Well, I'm just glad we were able to get you out. Now we've got a bigger issue. You're not gonna believe what I saw as I biked my way over here to the station!" Simon interrupted, anxiously.
"What?" Dash and I answered simultaneously.
Then something freaky happened. My vision clouded sharply and the next thing I knew I was looking at a kid in grey hair.
"I'm me again!" I cried, slapping my face and body. Simon jumped up and let out a whoop of joy.
"I'm cool, again!" Dash cried, mocking my exclamation of joy. He grumbled and messed around with his hair. I heard him mumbling "way too neat."
"Hey, it's only about eight. And neither of you said thirteen," Simon said suddenly.
"You're right, Simon. Weird," I answered. We both nodded at each other.
"Who the heck cares how it happened? So it didn't happen according to dumb legend. All I know, is that it's time for chow. No offense, Teller but your mom's cooking should be classified as an event of weirdness. Horrible, man," Dash said and then he tossed me the handcuffs.
"Keep it. It's your freaking souvenir," Dash remarked and began to jog away from us.
"Hey, Dash!" I called after him. He didn't stop but he slowed down.
"Nice being you!" I called with a grin.
The mysterious grey haired kid kept going but I saw him do a little wave. And I swear (Simon doesn't believe me) but he answered "nice being you, too."
I put my around Simon's shoulders and simply said "Let's go home."
"Ummm," Simon started. He looked uncomfortable.
"Remember, I said we had a bigger problem earlier," Simon said nervously.
"Yeah," I answered with a smile.
Simon took a deep breath. "Your house . . . it's vanished, Marshall! I couldn't believe it when I rode past! I checked and it was just gone. No sign of your family either."
Simon stared at me worriedly for a reaction. But I only shrugged and said:
"Don't worry we'll figure out this weirdness. And hey, c'mon Simon . . . my biggest problem? Nah. At least I don't have grey hair anymore."
It turned out that my house disappearance had to do with a scientific experiment done by Mr. Santini, who had help from my "pal," Dash X. Anyways, we were able to sort it out and I got my house and my family back by dawn. Luckily, my family was asleep for the whole weirdo event. In addition, I'm guaranteed an "A" in math this semester.
It's good to be myself again. And I'm sure Dash is out here happily living his criminal life even though it's really lonely sometimes. I don't know if I really understand him better or even like him. But, it's a start. All in all, I've had worse Fridays in the center of weirdness . . .