Chapter 7 Ellis #3
“If we stop at the Giant, then by the time we get to Springfield we’ll only have time to check in at the Motel 6 and maybe see the Lincoln Home and the McLean County Museum of History. And Liv, you still wanted to go to Knight’s Action Park!”
“Alright,” Liv said, raising her hands in surrender. “How about we fob off the boring field trip stuff and just do the fun things instead?”
“You wanted that stuff too!” I snapped. “It was in your document!”
“That was a shared document with my best friend,” Liv said airily, flopping back into her seat. “That was her interest, not mine. To the Giant Man, I say! Onward!”
I rubbed my temples as the headache that had been building all morning began to pulse. The last thing I’d expected to do today was stand in front of a fiberglass spaceman in the middle of rural Illinois while Dove debated the best angle for her photo moment.
Then again, I also hadn’t expected to steal human remains today, so it was probably stupid to even pretend I was shocked at this point.
“Considering you kicked us off with Polaroids, I now need to capture the best retro road trip aesthetic,” Dove muttered, biting her lip. “I need a flattering angle.”
“There is no flattering angle,” I grumbled, kicking a rock.
“You should be filming content,” Liv sang sweetly as she danced past me toward the giant. “This would be some good stuff. Off you go.”
I resisted the urge to curse as she posed dramatically in front of the statue, arms outstretched like a sequined poltergeist mid-ascension.
“Take my picture!” she shouted. “I’m being reborn!”
I shook my head at her, grateful there weren’t many people around. Dove finished her impromptu shoot and wandered over just as I began filming the giant from a few angles. I could add a voice-over later.
“She’s inside the helmet,” Dove murmured with a chuckle. “I wish we could post her. She’d get so many likes.”
“Sure,” I said with a snort. “Just try explaining that the glowing blur in the photo is your carpooling ghost.”
“I could play it off as a lens flare,” Dove said with a smirk. “People eat that shit up.”
“… I see it, Tuck,” a voice behind us said. “It’s glowing in the helmet. You see that?”
My eyes widened. I looked at Dove, then risked a glance over my shoulder.
Long hair. Cargo shorts. An aggressively patriotic T-shirt. Sandals that looked like a war crime. He was holding up his phone like it was a crucifix to ward off evil. I followed his line of sight. He was filming the helmet. Where Liv was.
“You seein’ that?” he yelled again, triumphant. “That ain’t normal! That’s activity, my friend. Followers, y’all can see this right now, the ghost of Route 66 is real and currently inside the helmet of the Gemini Giant!”
“Fuck,” Dove hissed, whipping her head around to look for Liv.
“Hey!” the man yelled, turning his camera on us as he approached—ring light and all. “Can you two see that in the helmet?”
“The glare from the sun?” I asked, injecting as much flatness into my voice as I could manage.
“Come on, you’ve seen something, right?” he pressed, shoving his phone at us. I stepped back. “EMF spikes, maybe?”
“Do I look like someone who knows what an EMF spike is?” I snapped.
“Electromagnetic field spike,” Dove said beside me, helpfully.
Of course she knew.
The man lit up like a Christmas tree and turned his camera on her.
“You’ve got some energy on you, girl. I can feel it. Something drew you here today.”
“Yeah,” I cut in tightly, “a photo with a stupid giant.”
“I’m streaming right now to four thousand people,” he announced proudly, aiming his camera back at the helmet.
I used the moment to glance up.
“Name’s Greg,” he added. “Greg from Route 66 Haunts and Treasures.”
“Make sure he tags my ghost account!” Liv called down from the helmet of the giant. “@LivAndLetDie!”
“You don’t have a ghost account!” I shouted back without thinking, completely overwhelmed by the situation. We were supposed to be on our way to Springfield, not caught up at some stupid fiberglass giant with a man who chased ghosts for a living.
Liv huffed and kicked the helmet. A loud clang rang out. My eyes widened, and even Dove’s mouth dropped open.
“What the—!” Greg gasped, grabbing his friend by the scruff. “You hear that, Tuck? This statue is a hotbed of—”
Liv kicked the helmet again.
Greg whooped. “Hot damn! We’ve got intelligent energy, people!”
“My tenth-grade teacher didn’t think so,” Liv called down, a satisfied smirk on her face.
People were beginning to gather now. The few stragglers who had originally stopped for a photo with the giant were slowly forming a crowd around Greg and Tuck, who was spinning in a circle muttering something about ley lines. I pulled off my aviators and rubbed my face.
“I’m going,” I said loudly to Dove, and loud enough for Liv to hear. “Be in the car or don’t.”
She sighed, clearly disappointed. “All right. Let’s go.”
We trudged back to the car in silence. I found myself running my fingernail along the inside of my palm, trying to ground the rising frustration in my chest.
We were officially, at minimum, an hour and a half behind schedule.