A Bad Day for Voodoo

CHAPTER 367

Yeah, I’m fudging a bit on the chapter numbers, but think how impressed people will be when you tell them you’ve just finished a book with 367 chapters!

Anyway, this is the part of the book where we wrap things up. [Denouement.] First of all, Kelley did not die. Adam’s directions were superb, and the paramedics found her down there in plenty of time to save her life. I’m not saying that they just slapped a Band-Aid on her and she was fine—there was a lengthy hospital stay involved and some rehab and a scar that I can’t convince her looks really cool—but now she’s fine.

I, too, spent some time in the hospital. I wish I could talk about the miracles of modern science and how they synthesized replacement flesh for me, but no, I still only have eight toes, and my ear didn’t grow back. When I get bummed out about it, I remind myself that it could have been much worse.

Kelley, Adam, and I decided that instead of getting trapped in a web of lies, we would tell the truth about everything, no matter how bizarre the truth might be. The police did not believe us. It didn’t help that Esmeralda’s House of

Jewelry had magically covered their tracks, even repairing the broken glass, and denied all knowledge of doing business with us.

There were investigations out the wazoo and lots of press coverage, and many experts weighed in on how a dead body could go missing from the morgue and why the security camera footage from that evening was too blurry to see and why there was no DNA evidence from our history teacher in the sewer, trunk of the taxi, or sidewalk. One expert said, “I think it is magic!” but he was not taken seriously by his colleagues.

The dead thugs in the garage thing kept coming up, but because they didn’t believe in the voodoo doll, ultimately, the authorities decided that I was just stupid enough to risk my life to get my mom’s car back. Ribeye’s death was indeed ruled an act of cannibalism, but without a cannibal available to match the dental marks, there wasn’t much they could do.

The Basers all went to prison, because freedom of religion does not include the right to conduct human sacrifices in your home.

Zeke, the cabdriver, was never found. He’s probably still lurking out there. somewhere. perhaps watching you at this very moment.

Regarding the algebra equation of how mad my parents would be, it was about two weeks of “Oh, we’re so glad to have our precious little boy back!” and then about two months of “You will suffer for the emotional trauma you inflicted upon us!” My mom did eventually get her car back, though.

The investigation kept going on and on, but then I started noticing tall men in black suits hanging around, looking stern, and then the mayor announced that the investigation into the strange events surrounding the death of Mr. Click was being concluded and that everything had been officially ruled a tragic accident. I don’t know what that’s about.

Adam and I are still friends. After his initial reluctance, he started to get an ego about the whole Chosen One thing, but I put a stop to that.

Then there was an extremely awkward misunderstanding where I thought Kelley was developing a crush on him because of the whole Chosen One thing, but I had merely misinterpreted some signals, and it was all very embarrassing, and we worked it out.

Our new history teacher, Mr. Venison, was way meaner than Mr. Click.

And, well, I guess that’s it for now. Things have settled down, and I’m getting good grades, and I’m starting to think about college. So thanks for reading. I apologize if there were any grammar issues. I hope you liked the book, and until more weird stuff starts to happen that I need to write about, “All Hail He Who Shall Save Us from the Hobgoblins.”