Chapter 16

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Bart just stared at Mr. Phinnly in complete shock at the confession he had just heard. Charlotte wasn't moving but she was looking from Bart to Mr. Phinnly and then back at Bart. Bart knew he didn't trust this man but now he was a little on the fearful side rather than nervous. Clearly the man had to be lying since Bart was just with Jason. Not to mention Jason had told Bart and Charlotte that his dad was dead. So that was another strike against this guy.

"What do you mean you killed him?" Bart finally said trying to simultaneously think of an escape plan for him and Charlotte. This entire time Mr. Phinnly was setting the table as if his confession wasn't that big of a deal.

"It's just what I said, I killed him, he's dead," he responded. "What games are you playing here boy, what games?"

"Mr. Phinnly, sir, I was just with Jason. He isn't dead," Bart said calmly, trying to defuse the tension. "Maybe it wasn't Jason that you killed." Mr. Phinnly finally stopped everything and looked Bart right in the eyes. It wasn't a look of confusion that Bart saw. Instead it was a look of anger and building frustration.

"I know I killed my son, because I buried his body after. It's buried," Mr. Phinnly said angrily. "I do not know who you think you met, but he was not Jason Phinnly, was not I say." They all stared at each other for a while, not saying a thing. Bart didn't know what to say anymore. This guy seemed convinced for some reason that he had killed his son, but Bart had just been with Jason not even a day ago. "Well enjoy the dinner, I am going to bed," Mr. Phinnly said with anger riddled in his voice. "You can stay the night in that room there, that room." He pointed to the room behind where they were sitting which looked like a small office.

"Um," Charlotte started to say, but Mr. Phinnly clearly already knew where she was headed.

"You can sleep on the couch, boy," he said glaring at Bart. Bart nodded and then Mr. Phinnly stood and rushed away from the table.

"I don't think he liked what we said," Bart said finally after waiting for Mr. Phinnly to shut his bedroom door.

"Yeah but he's clearly delusional, Bart. I mean why would we just make this up?" Bart agreed with Charlotte completely. There was no reason for them to lie but that wasn't the only thing troubling Bart. Jason had told them that his father was dead. So it wasn't just Mr. Phinnly who was lying here. If that was the case, Bart didn't know what to do or who to believe. The only thing he knew for sure was that Jason helped him survive, and that won him at least some of Bart's support. After about five minutes of being in his room Mr. Phinnly came storming out with a blanket and a pillow.

"Here boy," he said as he tossed the items at Bart. "It gets cold at night in the living room." Bart looked at Charlotte who just put her head down. Bart knew the old man was mad and it made Bart feel pretty bad. He didn't know what to do but he knew he should apologize. He just didn't know how to begin and it was too late since Mr. Phinnly was back in his room now. Bart walked out to sit on the couch and Charlotte followed.

"I should probably apologize," Bart said as he and Charlotte sat on the couch.

"I guess so," she said in response. It was clear that both of them felt a little bad about the entire situation. This guy brought them in his house and fed them but yet they called him a liar. That's no way to treat your host. The two friends sat quiet on the couch before Charlotte finally decided to head off to bed. "Well I'll see you in the morning," she said.

"Hey Char," Bart said stopping her at the door. "I'm glad you're here." She smiled and nodded and then headed into her room. Bart leaned back and rested his head. He had been through so much in the past month and a few days. It felt like it had been much longer than it really was. He hadn't seen his mom in so long. This was definitely the longest he had ever been away from her. He wished he knew how she was or if Demetrius had succeeded in healing her. Then he began to wonder about Victoria and Jason and Jonah. Had they survived? What about Mr. Cole? What if they never made it out of the house? What if Jason couldn't fend off those guys at the cove. All this was because of him. He hated the thought of being responsible for so many lives. However, if Bart became King, he would be responsible for so much more. He wasn't sure if he could handle so much pressure. At this point, though, all that mattered was making it to the Kingdom. He had to see his mother through this. Suddenly, before Bart could finish his thought, that terrible feeling at the bottom of his stomach came back. He didn't know where it was coming from but he knew exactly what this meant: something was about to happen and it wouldn't be good. Bart sat up and looked around trying to be as silent as he could so he could listen to see what he could hear. Then Mr. Phinnly abruptly came out of his room and walked up to Bart and looked him straight in the eyes.

"What is your name boy, what is it?" he asked sounded more frightened than angry like he was before.

"Why do you want to know?" Bart asked as Mr. Phinnly gripped his arm so he couldn't move. He was deceptively strong for an old man, and if he was telling the truth about killing his son, it wasn't as unbelievable as it had been before.

"Answer the question now! No time to waste, no time I say." Charlotte came out of her room to see what all the commotion was about.

"Let him go," she hollered coming over to try and pry his hands off Bart's arm.

"Tell me your name now, boy," he repeated. Bart looked at him and saw that he was more afraid of something that Bart couldn't see rather than angry at Bart. He wasn't sure where the feeling in his stomach was coming from but it wasn't from Mr. Phinnly.

"My name is Bartholomew Nelson," he said finally which prompted the old man to let his arm go suddenly. He stared into Bart's eyes for about five seconds before backing away. "What's going on?" Bart asked as he stood as well.

"Mr. Phinnly? Are you okay?" Charlotte added, looking confused as to why Mr. Phinnly looked so scared.

"You have to leave," he said softly.

"Wait, what?" Bart asked, lost as to why he and Charlotte were being kicked out. "You said we could stay the night."

"No, you don't understand," he said again, his voice raising. "You have to get out of here." Bart looked at Charlotte and then back at Mr. Phinnly. He looked distraught, and his eyes were wide with fear.

"NOW!"

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