Henry Rider: Clown Hunter

Chapter Seventeen

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Chapter Seventeen

"Henry, really, y-y-y-y-you don't have to d-d-d-d-do this!"

The IW rattled violently as it whisked us in directions incomprehensible to the human mind.

"I kn-n-n-n-now I don't," I said back. "I wa-a-a-a-a-ant to."

This wasn't the IW we normally took. This one was cheaper, but most people avoided it because of how bad a condition it was in — hence the impromptu yodeling sessions whenever we hit a bumpy part of the track. Any other day I wouldn't have touched this train with a ten foot Splatsy, but today was Friday, and Friday is a holiday celebrated across almost every dimension. That meant that our usual IW would be packed with all manner of freaky things getting a headstart on the weekend, and I didn't think Ethan's poor little heart could take that.

"I hav-v-v-v-v-n't been very nice to you," I admitted to him. "Consider this my w-w-w-w-w-ay of making it up to y-y-y-y-ou."

"You don't have to make—"

"I told you-u-u-u-u, I want to! So stop compla-a-a-a-aining and let me do something nice for you."

That seemed to placate him. I watched him out of the corner of my eye as we passed onto a slightly less bumpy section of track. Every time he so much as breathed, I could smell the laughter pent up in him. It never failed to make my stomach growl, even after I'd just eaten. It was stuck in there, but it wanted to come out. True to his word, though, even after living together for two weeks, Ethan had yet to so much as giggle.

What does it take? I thought. What does Ethan Griggs find funny?

I turned to him and, almost without realizing it, found myself straining. Don't ask me what I was straining, because I couldn't even explain it to myself. It was like trying to flex a muscle you knew you should have, but couldn't find. My head began to pound, my eyes watered, and I tore my gaze away from him. He raised an eyebrow, confused.

"Uh, you okay?"

"Peachy!" I snapped, a little more McGusishly than I meant to.

"Are you sure? Because you were just glaring at me like you wanted to eat me."

I didn't respond, waiting sourly for the headache to pass. Stupid! Even after fifteen years, I still hadn't learned my lesson. Despite it never having worked, not a single time, I couldn't bring myself to accept that I was...you know...

Broken.

Looks like I'll have to do this the old fashioned way, I thought.

"Hey, Ethan! What's red, smells bad, and is really crunchy?"

"I don't know."

I grinned at him. "A brick!"

He raised an eyebrow. "Bricks don't smell bad."

"They do if you just pooped on it," I insisted.

"Henry, that's gross!" He scooted away from me.

"Oh, come on!" I said, shaking him by the shoulder. "It was funny!"

"If that's what you need to think, then fine."

I scowled at him, but made myself shrug it off. I'd known this wasn't going to be easy the minute I'd taken this solemn duty upon myself. It looked like I would have to bring out the big guns.

"If that's what your mom needs to think, then fine," I said with a sly smile.

He groaned softly. "Please don't."