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    A Pinstriped Finger's My Only Friend
    A Pinstriped Finger's My Only Friend
    A Pinstriped Finger's My Only Friend
    Ebook353 pages4 hours

    A Pinstriped Finger's My Only Friend

    By Robert Jeschonek

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Judd the popular 17-year-old jock has it all figured out. He's the star of his school, the top of the heap...but then the world starts changing around him and won't stop. Without explanation, everyone turns into purple furries...then gas-blasting puffballs...then neurotic lizards. Every time Judd falls asleep, he wakes up in a new and crazier world--a world of godlike super-teens, teenage serial killers, duck people, nudists, monsters, and more. It's like a twisted video game without rhyme or reason. The rules never stop changing, and the only thing he can depend on is his talking pinky finger with a major attitude. Together, he and Pinkerton (the finger prefers the name "Killdigit!") fight through the parade of crazy realities, seeking a way to get back to normal. But what if normal just isn't an option anymore?

    Don't miss this wild fantasy by the award-winning author of MY FAVORITE BAND DOES NOT EXIST, named a Top Ten First Novel for Youth by Booklist.

    Contents
    Full-length novel

    Reviews

    "Robert Jeschonek is the literary love child of Tim Burton and Neil Gaiman—his fiction is cutting edge, original, and pulsing with dark and fantastical life." – Adrian Phoenix, critically acclaimed author of THE MAKER'S SONG series and BLACK DUST MAMBO

    "Robert Jeschonek is a towering talent." – Mike Resnick, Hugo and Nebula Award-winning author

    "Jeschonek ́s stories are delightfully insane, a pleasure to read..." – Fabio Fernandes, FANTASY BOOK CRITIC

    About the Author

    Robert T. Jeschonek is an award-winning writer whose fiction, comics, essays, articles, and podcasts have been published around the world. His young adult urban fantasy novel, MY FAVORITE BAND DOES NOT EXIST, won the Forward National Literature Award and was named one of BOOKLIST's Top Ten First Novels for Youth. Simon & Schuster, DAW/Penguin Books, and DC Comics have published his work. He won the grand prize in Pocket Books' nationwide Strange New Worlds contest and was nominated for the British Fantasy Award.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherRobert Jeschonek
    Release dateFeb 2, 2013
    ISBN9781301648481
    A Pinstriped Finger's My Only Friend

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      Book preview

      A Pinstriped Finger's My Only Friend - Robert Jeschonek

      Chapter

      One

      TOMORROW MORNING

      The first thing Judd Ramsey sees when he opens his eyes is...

      (Yaaaahh! Screaming, he scrambles out of bed in a tangle of arms, legs, and bedsheets.)

      ...something so bizarre, so unbelievable...

      (He hits the carpet on both knees, hits it hard, sending a shock right up to his tailbone.)

      ...that it scares the crap out of him. And that's really saying something, because Judd never scares easy, but holy smoke, what would you do...

      (Lurching to his feet, he staggers through the open doorway of his bedroom, out into the hall. His heart is pounding like a nail gun on high speed setting, he has to get away from that thing.)

      ...seriously, what would you do if you woke up from a sound sleep and looked up and saw some kind of purple, furry creature...

      (Run run run run run is all he could think of, all he can do, he has to get away somehow from that freaky monster or whatever it)

      ...some kind of purple, furry creature hanging from the ceiling, staring down at you...and did I mention...

      (Squirming? Are the walls squirming as he runs past, or is it some kind of optical illusion from the panic?)

      ...did I mention the creature's eyes are bright orange and swirling? What about its breath that smells like gasoline with a hint of bubblegum?

      (Oh my God oh my God get away must get away)

      That's right! You'd do exactly what Judd does, which is run the heck outta there before this crazy thing can get its...

      (Is somebody singing opera?)

      ...get its tentacles...???

      (Go left go left the front door the front door)

      ...get its tentacles all over you, except what if...

      (Oh no, the front door flies open all of a sudden, except it flies open downward, from the ceiling to the floor, and then and then...)

      ...what if you ran right into the tentacles of another one just like the first...

      (...and then a second creature rushes in from outside, just as purple and furry and orange-eyed as the one in his room, and this one grabs him before he can get away, and it says...)

      ...and it says...

      Good morning, son! That's what it says!

      (And it says it, holy crap holy crap...)

      And it says it in the voice of his...

      The voice of his mom!

      Where are you running off to this fine morning?

      Judd freezes in the tentacled grip of this freakish monstrosity. His eyes are wide as full moons as he stands there, locked up in the craziest moment of his life so far by far.

      Which only gets crazier when Sphinx, the chocolate Lab, saunters in, and Judd realizes who's been doing the opera singing.

      (It was Sphinx.)

      What's wrong, honey? The furry purple thing turns its face all the way around like a pinwheel, so its mouth

      (which looks like a green croissant)

      is on top, and its swirly orange eyes are on bottom.

      And that's when I finally speak up. Because I know how upset Judd is at this point. I know he needs someone to talk him down from the ledge, and that someone has to be me. Because the fact is, no one is more attached to him than I am.

      Hey, Dude! I shout it as loud as I can. "I said, hey, dude!"

      At first, Judd doesn't know where my voice is coming from. He's clueless. So I call out again.

      Dude! Judd! What I want to do is smack him upside the head, smack some sense into him, but maybe that would be cruel. If I could do it in the first place, of course, which I can't. Listen up!

      Finally, he looks down in my direction. His eyes get even wider, which I didn't think was possible.

      (I feel the tingle of electricity through his nerves, the twitch of muscle, the creaking of bone...)

      Then, he lifts his arm, raises his hand to eye level.

      (...and I add a little twitch of my own, a little flicker of movement from side to side...)

      And this time, when I speak, he hears me loud and clear. He sees me loud and clear.

      That's right, buddy-boy. He sees me, the little finger on his left hand, doing the talking. Listen up, bro. The deep blue vertical pinstripes running up and down the pale blue length of me

      (which isn't very long)

      curl as I bend at the first knuckle

      (Can I help it if I tend to gesture when I talk?)

      and dispense the words of wisdom I've been meaning to say.

      "You need to chill out, Judd!"

      I still don't know if it's the shock of seeing his pinstriped pinky finger talking to him...

      (Like I said, we're attached.)

      ...or the weird purple furry with its tentacles wrapped around him, or the opera-singing chocolate Lab...

      (It could be the walls, come to think of it, which are not only squirming, but crawling.)

      ...but that's when Judd Ramsey, who has never ever fainted before in his whole entire life...

      Faints.

      Can you blame him?

      Chapter

      Two

      24 HOURS EARLIER

      Imagine the coolest song you know. The coolest song by the coolest singer, the one you wish you could be. Now hear it in your mind. Imagine it playing, like in a movie soundtrack, as the camera zooms in on a character lying in bed. And you just know, from the sound of that music, that this character is going to be

      coooool.

      There he is, right now, in bed. He's rolled over on his side, with his back to us, so we can't see his face...but we can see he's a teenage boy, we can see that much. Seventeen, maybe eighteen, with wavy blond hair. He's sleeping on top of the rumpled blue sheets in his underwear (black bikini briefs, mind you) and we can see he's got a muscular back and arms. Dude works out, right?

      (Keep that cool music playing in the background, don't forget.)

      Now let's have a look around while this guy's sleeping. The morning sun's streaming through the mini-blinds on the window beside his bed. The blinds are all the way down on one side, but halfway up on the other; the cord's tangled between the slats.

      Now what's over there? Look at the wall facing the foot of the bed. Start up top with those posters: basketball stars, football stars, baseball stars, hot chicks in bikinis! Like, the whole wall is covered with them, all crooked and overlapping and stuck this way and that, one layer on top of another. Has he ever taken down a poster in his life? Is he a slob, or does he just have better things to do with his time?

      Now look over and down at the desk in the corner. Again, we see a little slice of chaos: there's an open laptop computer, still on, with a hot chick animated screensaver (She's washing a car! In a bikini!); we see videogame controllers tangled over the keyboard, one joystick hanging down by the cord. And check out the smartphone, baby! We hear the ringtone (it could be that cool song you love, why not?) but the sleeping boy doesn't, and there's a text:

      U R L8! XOX

      (It's from someone named Eva!)

      But he doesn't see it. Too busy snoring.

      So you keep looking. What else is on the desk? Candy wrappers, crushed energy drink cans, a set of ear buds, a pack of gum. An unopened red backpack half over the edge, not looking too full. Not a book in sight, but there might be one in that backpack, you're not sure. One or two at the most.

      (You haven't stopped the cool music yet, have you?)

      It's time to move on. Watch out for the scuffed-up basketball shoes on the floor. There's one on its side, and there's the other, a few feet away.

      Now we're looking along the other wall, also plastered with posters, except for the folding door of the closet in the middle. More sports stars, more babes...plus a car, a really cool hot rod car...and rappers, too, one black and one white, looking tough.

      Which brings us to the dresser. Or should I say the shrine? It's five drawers tall (three of them half open with clothes sticking out) and the top is crowded with golden trophies. You see football, basketball, football, baseball, wrestling, football, basketball. There isn't even room for them all. Look down, in that cardboard box on the floor; he's got more trophies in there!

      Who is this guy, anyway?

      Suddenly, the door swings open, almost hitting you in the face (it's right near the dresser) and this woman's voice hollers in, briefly drowning out the really cool music, and she says

      Judd! For the last time! Get up!

      At which point, the boy in the bed finally rolls over, and you get a look at his face for the first time.

      (Which is when the really cool soundtrack music gets louder, punching the moment when the really cool star gazes out at the audience.)

      You can't say he's not a good-looking guy. Even half-asleep, he is one handsome dude. Get a load of the high cheekbones and smoothly sloping nose. What a great tan, huh? It really makes his blond eyebrows and hair stand out like a hundred times brighter. Did you know he has major dimples on either side of his mouth? You can't see them now, but...wait! There they are!

      And now with the eyes. They pop open, and wow.

      (Have you seen him somewhere before? On TV maybe? In a movie? In a band?)

      So blue. About the brightest blue you've ever seen, and sparkling like a rapper's diamond bling on his pinky in a video...

      (Pinky's the coolest, right? I notice things like that.)

      ...bright blue and sparkling, what they call electric blue, and there's something about those eyes, you have to admit. They're like magnets, just pulling you in, like there's something going on behind them that you've never encountered before, and you want to be a part of that scene, whatever it means...

      (You need to.)

      ...you want to know what the world looks like through those electromagnetic eyes. What you look like.

      But the woman at the door might not feel the same way, at least at the moment. You're already late for school, Judd! Your brother and sister are long gone! She does not sound happy. Now get a move on!

      Judd grins up at her without twitching another muscle. It's all good, Mom.

      Okay, that's it! Suddenly, Judd's Mom marches in, clapping her hands loudly for his benefit. "Get your lazy butt out of that bed or I will kick it out!" She's dressed for work in a gray business pantsuit, black high heels strapped and buckled, brown hair styled and sprayed in a wavy kind of flippy sort of 'do. She's tall and slender, with a high-cheekboned face like her son's but not those eyes, her eyes are strictly hazel with none of that crazy sparkle. She's pretty for a woman in her...

      (Thirties? Forties? Fifties? No way, José!)

      ...and not just pretty, but pretty angry.

      Let's go! Mom's still clapping. Up up up! On your feet, Judd!

      Here's where I've gotta hand it to him. Dude doesn't grumble or growl the slightest bit. He just keeps grinning as she stomps over and claps in his face with her well-manicured hands. Other folks might not take it so well, y'know?

      But not Judd. All right, all right. He floats up from the mattress in a smooth, graceful motion. I'm up, see? He sits there with that good-natured grin on his face, only now that he isn't lying down, you can see it's kind of lopsided, tipping to the right. And you can't help noticing, can you...

      (Who can?)

      ...that it only adds to his charm.

      Happy now? Judd's voice is in the middle range, did I mention he's a tenor? How do I know this, you ask?

      (Brace yourself!)

      Because not only does he play every sport like a champ, but he's also the star soloist in his school's show choir!

      (Say it ain't so, bro!)

      "I'm never happy when I have to start the day like this! Even as Mom says the words, though, you can see the angry look in her eyes soften. She can't stay mad at him for long, nosiree Bob. What am I going to do with you, Judd?"

      Again with that lopsided grin of his. Let this blow over and scare up a cup of coffee to make sure I wake all the way up?

      Look at Mom, she isn't fooled. Charmed maybe, but not fooled. Get it yourself. She smirks as she brushes her fingertips over the side of his face. And make it snappy!

      Yes, ma'am! Judd sits up straight and gives her a mock salute. Making it snappy, ma'am! Then, he launches into a wild bout of finger-snapping, like a flamenco dancer playing castanets.

      Mom sighs and shakes her head...

      (Get the feeling she's done this before?)

      ...but then she chuckles and tousles his hair. You're something else, you know that?

      Judd stops snapping and cocks his head to one side. Something awesome, you mean? Or something freaky?

      Mom gazes into his sparkling blue eyes as she nods. You definitely have a little freak in there, Judd. She pecks him on the cheek and draws away. "In a good way."

      "There's a good way for that? Judd shakes his head slowly, acting highly insulted. I can't believe my own mom just called me a freak."

      Get over it! Mom says it over her shoulder as she marches out the door. "Everybody's got a touch of freak, deep down inside."

      Then, she's gone...

      (She's running late herself now, way to go Judd!)

      ...and Judd's yelling after her. "That is such psychological abuse! I'm calling youth services, I swear to God!"

      Did she hear him?

      (She probably heard him.)

      Did she hear him?

      Just before she slams the front door, she hollers back: "Then I'm calling Homeland Security to come get this terrorist out of my damn house!"

      (Slam!)

      That one made Judd laugh all the way to the shower.

      (The cool music's still playing as he struts into the bathroom. The camera doesn't follow him inside, but we can hear the water running. One last time, the music peaks, as...)

      His black bikini underwear zings into the hallway and hits the wall like he shot it out there by snapping the elastic.

      (...and then we fade to black as the water and the music continue to flow.)

      Chapter

      Three

      ONE HOUR LATER

      Boom! The school doors fly open, and in bursts Judd, haloed in sunshine from the bright Spring day outside. His hair's windblown from the windows-down drive in his cherry red Mustang (his pride and joy). He's got a real bounce in his step, doesn't he?

      (He always does!)

      Head held high...

      (As always!)

      ...he strolls up to the door of the admin office and leans inside, holding on to the frame with both hands. Boy, does he flash that lopsided grin of his!

      "There you are! says the woman behind the counter--Debbie in her twenties with the long black hair and cute horn rim glasses. Hey, Sally!" She yells back to the woman working on the desktop computer behind her.

      Yeah, yeah. Sally acts grouchy, but she's a peach. Overweight and gray-haired at fifty-three...

      (Judd brought her peanut butter cups just yesterday for her birthday!)

      ...she digs her some Judd-man! You win the pool today. She looks over at Judd like she's miffed, but then she adds a little wink.

      I still think that if you're betting on when I get here, I oughtta get a piece of that action. Judd widens his eyes and nods eagerly.

      In your dreams, sugar-cube! snaps Sally.

      (Again with that flash of a wink.)

      Maybe next time, then. Judd shrugs and starts to go.

      Debbie clears her throat loudly. Aren't you forgetting something, Mr. Ramsey?

      Judd bobbles his head sheepishly.

      (Still grinning!)

      I need to sign the late log. He strolls to the counter.

      Debbie drops her voice to a loud whisper. Like I don't already have you covered! She smacks a late pass on the counter...but doesn't move her hand from on top of it. Don't you play dumb with me, mister! Go big or go home!

      Judd rolls his eyes like he doesn't totally expect this. Oh, right. Like he isn't loving every minute of playing the game that lets him get away with murder. Let's see. He digs deep in the front left pocket of his jeans, comes up with nothing. Huh. Then he checks the back pockets and frowns. Now where did I put that? He pats the front of his tight-fitting Euro-cut button-down black vertical-striped shirt, like he really thinks he'll find what he's looking for there. I've got nothing.

      Time's a wastin'. Debbie snaps her fingers and points at the front right pocket of his jeans. "Andalé, andalé."

      Of course! Judd jams his hand into the pocket and comes up with two mini-sized dark chocolate candy bars. "That was a close one!" He plunks the bars down on the counter...

      (with a grin!)

      ...and reaches for the late pass.

      Sally lets go of it and scoops up the candy with the speed of a striking cobra. Get your butt in class before I change my mind. She flicks her head toward the door.

      "Don't have to tell me twice." Grinning, Judd scoots out into the hall, giving the ladies a backward wave over his head along the way.

      Just as Judd starts down the hall of West Beach High, the end-of-class tone sounds, followed by the low rumble of hundreds of students grabbing their gear, jumping up, and storming the classroom doors.

      A moment later, the doors fly open, and the low rumble becomes crashing thunder. Teenagers pour into the gleaming hallway like herds of buffalo...buffalo chewing gum and chattering and laughing and texting each other on smartphones.

      Judd strides through them like a king, grinning and nodding and tossing off way-cool handshakes...

      (How many handshakes does he know, anyway?)

      Hey, Judd! A short kid with brown hair and a bad case of acne pops up in front of him. Thanks again, man!

      You got it. Judd can't remember the kid's name or what he's thanking him for, but he gives him a big smile and a fist-bump just the same.

      Seconds later, a shy-looking girl with long black hair stumbles into his path. She jolts to a stop and meets his gaze searchingly, hopefully.

      Judd's seen her before. He's pretty sure she's in his grade. How ya doin'? He shoots her a great big Prince Charming smile.

      Her eyes flutter, she smiles back, and he moves on, feeling like he's done a good deed.

      (You know he made her day! She's already texting like a lunatic!)

      As Judd continues through the hall, he keeps grinning and waving and shaking hands. The whole time, his eyes are darting left-right, right-left, searching for someone in particular. It's gotta be Eva, right? The one who sent him the text.

      But wait just a cotton-pickin' minute! He sees Eva in the doorway of Mrs. Pomeroy's room, her sleek blonde hair flouncing as she giggles at a girlfriend's joke...and he deliberately veers away!

      (But she's hot! What is he thinking?)

      Instead, he swoops to the opposite side of the hall and hangs a sharp louie. He shoots down an intersecting corridor with a definite plan in mind, still grinning and nodding...

      (Is there anyone he doesn't say hi to?)

      ...all the while searching the crowd with those sparkling blue eyes of his. He scans every face, every locker, every doorway, looking for the one person he wants to see more than anyone else in the whole school.

      (At least at that moment.)

      Then, suddenly, someone jumps up behind him and shouts. Yahhh! Her fingers lunge at his sides, tickling his ribs with flickering movements. Haahhh!

      Judd can't help squirming and laughing. The girl caught him totally by surprise...

      (Which is usually his trick.)

      ...but he turns the tables fast. Spinning, he grabs her arms, stopping the tickling, and jerks her toward him. Gotcha!

      The girl smirks up at him. Her blazing red shoulder-length hair suits her devilish expression.

      (Also her hotness. Eva the blonde texter better look out!)

      You got nothin'! The smirking girl snaps the words in his face. I got tired of waiting and broke up with you!

      "We already were broken up, says Judd. So you just broke back in."

      She pushes away. She's wearing a cheerleader uniform featuring the school's colors--purple and orange. "That isn't how it works! You're crazy! You've lost touch with reality."

      Judd reels her in closer. "If I'm crazy, what does that make you?"

      "The sane one. The girl narrows her eyes and cocks her head at him. What color is the sky in your world, Judd?

      Red. He runs his hand over her fiery hair. All I see is red, Kaela.

      Kaela Sheridan doesn't wait one more second to hop up on her tiptoes and kiss him on the lips. She lets it fly right there, in the middle of the hall, in front of who-knows-and-who-cares...

      (And it's a loooong one...)

      ...and kids are watching and pointing...

      (...almost long enough to break the no-making-out-in-the-halls rule and get them both detention.)

      ...and then some of the kids even start clapping, which is when Kaela finally breaks off the liplock. Show's over, folks. No more vicarious action for your viewing pleasure.

      The kids keep applauding as they flock past. They're on their way somewhere--not class, too early for lunch--and Judd doesn't know where they're going.

      Not that it matters when he's busy whispering in Kaela's left ear. Her hair smells so good, like a bouquet of roses, he can barely stand it. What are you doing after school?

      Cheering you up. Kaela whispers the words in his right ear. "You're gonna need it after you miss your own pep rally."

      Judd freezes. Adrenaline burns through his bloodstream like a trail of gasoline touched by a lit match. Every muscle galvanizes, every sense ramps up to eleven on a scale of one to ten.

      (Talk about brain farts.)

      He'd forgotten. The kids were all headed for the pep rally. It was going to start in...

      (He looks up and checks the digital clock hanging from the ceiling.)

      ...three minutes! He'd totally spaced!

      Not that he's going to tell her that. You can cheer me up if you want to. He keeps his grin as cool-looking as possible, like he hasn't slipped up. "But I would never miss a pep rally." He glances up at the clock.

      (Two minutes!)

      "Not if I get to see you dancing around in that sexy outfit of yours." With that, he plants a gentle kiss on her full red lips, lingering for just an instant.

      And then, he spins away from her and glides down the hall, as cool as can be, toward the gym. Just as he turns the corner and sees the big open doorway ahead, the school marching band strikes up the fight song.

      Judd grins to himself and straightens his collar. No worries. He says it for his own benefit, because he's feeling awesome...

      (As usual!)

      ...and then he jogs the rest of the way to the pep rally.

      Judd enters the gym just in time to join the rest of the basketball team as they run past. He trots at the front of the pack like he was there all along, waving and grinning at the roaring crowd of kids in the stands.

      His best friend--and the team's star point guard--Wayne Leary, bumps him with his elbow as they run a lap around the gym. Nice of you to join us, superstar.

      Wouldn't miss it for the world. Judd grins and waves at a line of teachers on the floor, and every one of them smiles and waves back. "Wouldn't want you to hog all the glory, Wayne."

      You suck, Judd. Wayne smiles, too, as he plows his elbow into Judd's side again, harder this time. You never change, do you?

      Hey. Judd throws an elbow of his own into Wayne's ribs. If it ain't broke, don't fix it.

      Wayne's coal-black face gleams in the bright wash of light from overhead. I am so gonna sabotage your ass at practice today.

      Knock yourself out, Leary. Judd shoots him a nasty smirk, but there's nothing mean-spirited about it. Wayne's been his best friend since the eighth grade, and friendship, in their case, consists mainly of harassing each other every chance they get. It'll be like any other practice, I guess.

      Wayne's about to say something when Principal Wyland, at the far end of the gym, starts shouting into her

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