Meet Me On The Strange Trails

Chapter 9: Lonesome Trails

"So you're sayin' Jimmy could get possessed again whenever Bill wants?"

"Not whenever, no, I believe that now that Jimmy is in the house, Bill can't re-enter his mind. That is... If Bill ever left."

Stanley pinched the bridge of his nose. "Ford, for the love of- Would you just spit it out in English?"

Ford rolled his eyes. "Oh-! How much plainer must I make it?! I'm saying that I don't know for sure whether or not Bill actually left Jimmy's mind. If he did, we should be fine because Bill cannot re-enter Jimmy's mind so long as the man stays in the house. However, if Bill is still in there, then he could retake control at any moment regardless of the barrier."

"This unicorn barrier spell has more holes in it than a rusted-up bucket!" Fiddleford mumbled. Ford sighed.

"I know, and I've been kicking myself for not doing more research, but there's nothing to be done about it now. The point is, we need to figure out what to do with Jimmy."

"I dunno... Can't we just keep him where he's at?" Stan asked, feeling uncomfortable.

"I'd rather not keep a man tied up in my kitchen. Besides, if Bill does possess him again, I'm not sure that rope will be enough to hold him back."

And on that rather troubling note, the three men went quiet, weighing their options. Stan stared in the direction of the kitchen. They couldn't just let Jimmy go because then he'd definitely get possessed again and come back to kill them, but keeping him tied up could prove just as dangerous were Bill to take over and break free from the ropes. So where the hell could he go?

"Could we lock 'im in the bunker?" Fiddleford asked, looking at Ford.

"What, the bunker with the portal in it? Cause that seems like a bad idea." Stan said.

"No, no, not that one. The other bunker! The secret one out in the woods!"

Stan looked at his brother quizzically. "The other one? How many damn bunkers do you got?"

Ford waved his question off- typical- deep in thought. "Just the two... I don't know, F, it could work in theory, but there's a lot of stuff in there I wouldn't want him messing around with. We'd have to clear everything out, and I don't want to waste that time."

"Shoot, well'en; I suppose I ain't got any other ideas. You, Stanley?"

"Lock him in a closet?"

"We'll certainly file that one away."

Ford tapped his chin. "Perhaps there is something... Wait! Yes, of course! Nolan Corduroy!" He began moving books and piles of paper frantically, searching for something, and a moment later, he held up a rotary phone. Pulling a scrap of paper from his coat pocket, Ford dialed a number and waited. Stan sent a questioning glance to Fiddleford, who just shrugged. Great, so even the beanpole didn't know what was going on.

"Ah, hello! Sorry to disturb you- Is Nolan available? Perfect, thank you." Ford was silent for a few seconds, then, "Nolan! This is Stanford Pines, your neighbor? No, everything is- Well, the house is fine, anyway. I'm actually calling about that favor you said you owed me. I don't normally cash in on such things, but... Desperate times call for desperate measures and all that. Yes, yes... Thank you." Ford hung up, taking a deep breath.

"Who the heck is Nolan?" Stan asked.

"Corduroy... ain't that th' family livin' next door? Them lumberjack folks?" Fiddleford questioned. Ford nodded.

"Yes, that's them. About a month or so ago, I'd saved Nolan from a Killbilly, and he said he owed me a favor in return. So I figured now was as good a time as any to use it."