Avalon dropped the coin in and waited for it to clink its way down to the coin box and then he asked his question. “Mighty Wurlitzer, what do we do about this chocolate monster?” He pressed a random button on the machine’s console, and Wurlitzer came to life. It pulled a record from its apparently infinite spinning rack, dropped it on the turntable, and with clicks and pops the song began to play.
“Oh, don’t it hurt, deeeeep inside . . .” sang a man in falsetto.
“I don’t know this one,” said Avalon.
“What does it mean?” someone asked.
“Shh! Let me listen.” Avalon put his ear to the glass as if that might help his hearing, then he squinted through the next few lines as if squinting might make him smarter. “This is a difficult one.”
But then Jill said, “Wait for the chorus. . . .” because she did know this song. In fact, it had been one of her grandfather’s favorites.
The music built to the chorus, and Frankie Valli sang, “Silence is golden . . .” and there was a collective gasp from the room.
“Wurlitzer has spoken,” Jill muttered, clearly a little freaked by it.
“Quiet!” yelled Avalon, then realized his error, and whispered, “Quiet . . .” Avalon went to the back of the machine and turned the volume down as low as it would go. In a couple of minutes, the song ended and when it was done, silence fell and it remained. No one spoke, no one moved. From the Alamo gift shop above them, they heard a voice.
“I know you are here somewhere!” someone yelled. Someone with a Russian accent. “And I won’t rest until I find you!”
Jill stood up.
“No!” whispered Jix.
“I’m done with this place,” said Jill. “I want out. Even Milos and his morons are better than this.” The others threw angry gazes at her, and Dionne brandished her knife—but silence was not golden for Jill—not when her fate was being decided by a glorified music box.
Jix grabbed her, getting face to face. Then looking into her eyes, he said, “It’s time for you to choose, then. Choose that life . . . or choose me.”
Jill looked at him with bitter fury.
“You must make your decision now,” he demanded.
She glared at him a moment more, then she pulled him close, kissed him hard, then slapped him even harder.
“I really, really don’t like you,” she said.
“Will you be quiet!” snapped Avalon. Jill sat back down in silence, not sure whether this was victory or defeat . . . while up above, things began to break.
CHAPTER 18
You Put Your Whole Self In . . .
Milos’s team of refugees had been scouring San Antonio for days, but it was a big city. There was no telling where the Neons were holing up. Wherever they had gone, they were well-concealed.
“Maybe they’re not here,” Moose suggested. “Maybe they went shumwhere elsh.” But Milos was not ready to give up. There were still too many places to look.
Shortly before Wurlitzer played its song about silence, Milos and his crew finally caught sight of a single Neon watching them, trying to appear like a Christmas elf in a department store’s holiday display. The kid ran when he was spotted, but Moose caught him and brought him to Milos.
“I will make a deal with you,” Milos told him. “Tell us where you are hiding and return Mary to us, and we won’t send you to the center of the earth.”
The kid laughed in his face. “I won’t tell you a thing.” Clearly, he meant it. He would rather sink than give away the location of the Neons.
“Very well,” said Milos and he called for the Chocolate Ogre, who came lumbering forward. “Say hello to my little fiend,” said Milos.
“I think you mean ‘friend,’” Squirrel corrected.
As soon as the Neon saw the Ogre, his face filled with terror. “What is that thing?”
Milos ignored the question. “Now I’m giving you one last chance. Tell us where you are holding Mary.”