This entry is not the first in the Todd series. The back entries have been copied from to here, and can be seen either by going back in this journal, or in their entirety by going to .

—
I don’t want to start any blasphemous rumours
But I think that God’s got a sick sense of humor
And when I die I expect to find Him laughing
– Depeche Mode, “Blasphemous Rumors”
—
The waitress slowly unloaded her heavy burden. “Who had the smothered cheese fries with bacon? Thunk? Here you go. I’ll get our extra side of ranch in a second. Let’s see. Grilled chicken salad. That’s you, right Sheila? And last, but certainly not least, is the Grand Slam, eggs over easy and white toast. There you are, Todd.” Thunk’s older sister smiled down at them. “Need a refill on those cokes?” Everyone nodded. “Be right back.” They liked to eat at the Denny’s outside the mall after Sheila’s shift ended. You could hang out for hours without getting bitched out. It was right outside Sheila’s work, and Thunk’s older sister always made sure that the drinks never showed up on the bill. Of course, they teased Thunk incessantly about it.

Todd started slathering his toast with strawberry jelly. Sheila was picking at her salad while Thunk was wolfing down his heart-attack-in-a-platter. Sheila mercilessly stabbed through a piece of onion, lettuce, and into a crouton. “How much do you think your uncle’s place is worth, Todd?” Todd looked over at Sheila, toast almost in his mouth. He took a bite, and chewed thoughtfully.

“I dunno. I don’t even know how much a house usually goes for. I guess I’d have to get an inspector or something. And there’s so much stuff, you guys. I mean, you could probably spend months just going through it all.”

“So what?” Sheila carefully dipped her salad in the little bowl of low-fat dressing. “Tons of boring old man junk. Probably better off in the trash.” She crunched through her greens.

“No way!” Thunk actually put his fork down. Todd and Sheila just stared. “No way, man. All that stuff, all that junk… Todd’s uncle kept it for a reason, right? I mean, why would some old fogie keep stuff unless it had some kind of, uh, emotional connection? Reminded him of something, or whatever.” Thunk looked from Todd to Sheila, then went bright red under their stares. “Like my Grandma’s spoon collection.” He squirmed for a few seconds before his friends burst into a gale of giggles.

Sheila imitated an old woman’s voice and started clawing at Thunk. “Not my spoooons! Please, Thunk, take anything else, but leave me my spoooooooons!” Thunk tried to roll his eyes, but ended up chuckling along. “Thunk, you have the weirdest family ever.”

“I heard that.” Thunk’s older sister sat the pop refills on the table while everyone did their best to look innocent. The waitress wagged a finger at them, then rushed to greet some recently-seated customers. They ate for a while in silence, but their dreams of what the house might hold were written all over their faces.

Todd pushed his hash browns slowly across the plate. Then a piece of egg. If things had been normal, Thunk would have already asked him if he was gonna finish that. He stole a glance at Sheila, and he could have sworn that there were dollar signs in her eyes. He looked sideways at Thunk, who was trying to balance a spoon on his nose. All Todd could think about was the calliope. “You workin’ tomorrow?” Sheila shook her head. “Plans?” Thunk shook his as well, sending the spoon flying. “I say we meet up at Ralph’s house at one, tomorrow. I say we search the thing top to bottom, maybe figure out what old Ralph was all about.” They both nodded agreement.

Sheila grabbed his shirt and pulled him into a three-alarm kiss. When she let him go, she smiled dreamily at him. She grabbed Ralph’s old hat and placed it gently on her own head. “Mine.” He had to admit, it looked better on her. Nobody noticed the cooks blaring Disturbed from the kitchen. Nobody saw the Oldsmobile pull in to the Denny’s parking lot.
—
Looking at my own reflection
When suddenly it changes
Violently it changes
Oh no, There is no turning back now
You’ve woken up the demon … in me!
– Disturbed, “Down With the Sickness”

—
Come one, come all, and witness magic!
I introduce to you an occult sorcerer
Of the ancient craft of Necromancy
A caster of mind-bending illusions
From the nether void of the shadow walkers
A soul from Shangra La, The Great Milenko!
– Insane Clown Posse, “Great Milenko”
—
Todd turned off his clunker and yanked the parking brake into place. He reeked of cigar smoke, but it wasn’t unpleasant. He got out of the car, pocketed his keys, and slammed the door shut. Todd liked to park as far from the mall’s entrance as he could without looking like he worked there. No easy task for a teenager with an ancient car, but he tried anyway. Too many fender benders up front with soccer-mom SUV drivers, and too many break-ins near the road that circled the mall complex. He shoved his hands in his hoodie’s pocket and began the trek to the mall’s entrance.

Saturdays were always crowded, and Todd had to practically shoulder his way through the entrance. He got plenty of dirty looks from over-40 cows, but he figured it was easy to shrug that shit off when you’re not part of their herd. Maybe he shouldn’t have smirked, because two seconds later a rent-a-pig put a hand on his shoulder. “Hold it right there, chief. Mind tellin’ me where you’re headed?”

Todd whipped around, suddenly full of rage. “Get your hand off me, chief, or your security company’s gonna get sued into oblivion.” He had an incredible urge to swing at the overweight and pimply 30-something goon, but held it back. “I’m going to visit my girlfriend. She works here. And if you leave me the fuck alone, I might spend money here.” The security guard took his hand off of Todd’s shoulder and tried to give him a stern look.

“Empty your pockets.” The guard’s hand strayed to his billy-club. “I think you’re shoplifting.”

“Right. I’m going to steal something, go outside, and come back in, after I just got away with it. Eat shit and die.” Todd turned his back on the security guard and walked away. After eight or ten steps, the rage drained out of him, and he couldn’t believe that he’d just gotten away with that. Maybe he should stop by the guard station and complain. Better yet, he should get his mom to do it. Those fat pig-wanna-be’s would never hear the end of it. Todd shelved the idea for later. Shelia was why he was here. Sheila and Thunk. He needed a dose of normal, and no one was better suited to provide it than those two. He made a left at the center of the mall, and headed down to the Hot Topic. Shelia worked part-time there, and it was one of the only places left in the mall that didn’t call security if you wanted to hang out for a while before you bought something.

Todd waved to Sheila as he walked between the fake cast-iron gates that stood at each side of the entrance of this goth-kid’s store. Thunk was there, too, and they both waved back. Todd gave the merchandise a cursory glance on his way to the checkout desk. He got up real close, leaned over the desk, and drooled out, “How much for zeh weeeeemen?” Thunk tried to squelch his laughter, but Sheila burst into giggles.

“Unfortunately, uh, sir, our weemen aren’t for sale, but could I perhaps interest you in some titanium nipple rings? They’re quite the rage this season.” Now Todd burst into laughter, and Thunk could contain himself no longer. A couple of shoppers – parents of a subculture they didn’t understand, no doubt – gave them all dirty looks, but everyone else just smiled and continued their browsing. “You stink. Did you find ancient piles of old man’s dirty laundry or something?”

“Nah, just some cigars.” Thunk smiled hugely and Sheila rolled her eyes. “There’s a bunch of other cool stuff, but I really haven’t had any time to explore yet.” Todd fidgeted as Sheila looked him up and down. She shook her head and went to change the CD in the store’s player. Thunk watched her go, eyes glued to her ass.

“Man, you are one lucky S.O.B.” Todd smirked, a bit nervously. “So, you hear what you missed at school yet?” Todd relaxed as Thunk filled him in on the gossip and bullshit assignments that he’d missed. Sheila slipped a Depeche Mode CD into the player and jabbed the play button.
—
Take second best
Put me to the test
Things on your chest
You need to confess
I will deliver
You know I’m a forgiver

Reach out and touch faith
Reach out and touch faith
– Depeche Mode, “Personal Jesus”