When Comes the Stroke of Midnight

by Madeline Walz

  “So we’re just giving up?” asked Grayson. “There’s got to be a way into that store.”

  Zaivyer thought about that. His gut was telling him... something. He wasn’t sure what exactly, but he knew he could get them in somehow.

  “No, we’re not,” he said. “I feel like I have a way to get us in, I’m just not sure what it is.”

  “What, do you have some new superpower you haven’t told us about?” asked Asher with a grin.

  “Not that I’m aware of, but I feel like there’s something I’m missing.”

  If only I was older, he thought. Then we’d have no problem. He tried to imagine what he would look like if he was eighteen. Suddenly, his metal plate’s vibration increased, and it got warmer.

  “Something’s happening!” he said to his friends.

  “What? What’s happening?” Grayson demanded.

  “I don’t know!” He felt his entire body ripple, as if he was fluid rather than solid.

  The sensation passed.

  “It’s gone now,” he said, and started in shock. His voice was different, deeper. He felt taller.

  That was when he noticed the looks on his friends’ faces, now a foot lower than they should be.

  “What?” he asked. “What happened?”

  “Y-y-you’re older,” Aidan stammered. “How...?”

  “What do you mean, I’m older?” Zaivyer demanded.

  “You look like you’re eighteen!” Asher said. “You said, ‘Something’s happening’ and your whole body just started... shifting, or something, and now you look like you’re eighteen. How did you do that?”

  “I don’t know! I have no idea what happened!”

  “Can you reverse it?” Grayson asked.

  Zaivyer’s heart started racing. “How can I reverse it if I don’t even know how I did it in the first place?”

  “What were you doing when it happened?” asked Grayson. He somehow managed to sound calm.

  “I was... I was thinking that if I was eighteen, I could get us in

  no problem, and I started wondering what I’ll look like when I’m eighteen.”

  “Then think about being thirteen,” said Grayson. “Maybe you’ll change back.”

  Zaivyer closed his eyes and focused on how he looked normally. The metal plate vibrated stronger and heated up, his body rippled, and he heard his friends gasp as he opened his eyes. They were no longer shorter than him.

  “Did it work?” he asked, just to make sure. His voice sounded normal again.

  “I think it did,” Asher said.

  “That was so cool!” Aidan exclaimed. “It kind of freaked me out when you just changed with no warning, but man, if you could learn to control that...”

  “It freaked you out?” Zaivyer said. “I had no idea what was happening to me! But yeah, I need to learn how to control that.”

  “I wonder if you can actually change your appearance, or just your age,” Grayson mused. “I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t want to go to ComicQuest anymore. I want to experiment with this.”

  “So do I,” Zaivyer said. “Let’s go back to my house.”

  ***

  “You’re back early,” Joanna said as Zaivyer, Aidan, Grayson, and Asher walked through the door.

  “Yeah, turns out ComicQuest is sixteen and older. We need someone at least eighteen to go with us,” Zaivyer said.

  “That’s too bad.”

  “Yeah. We’re going to my room.”

  “Okay. Have fun.”

  The boys hurried to Zaivyer’s room and closed the door. It was a mess. Zaivyer quickly threw his dirty clothes in a hamper by the door, then he made his bed and put his guitar back in its case in the corner.

  “Okay. Let’s see how far this shapeshifting thing goes,” said Grayson. “Try just changing one thing.”

  “Yeah, good idea,” Zaivyer said. “I’ll start with my hair.”

  He focused on changing his hair color from brown to blond. He felt that ripple again, this time just with his head, and turned to his friends.

  “Well?”

  “It worked!” Asher exclaimed. “That’s so cool!”

  Zaivyer focused for a moment and felt the ripple as his hair returned to normal. He was getting good at this.

  “Now what about your eyes?” Aidan asked.

  Zaivyer concentrated but felt nothing.

  “Nope, nothing. It didn’t work.”

  “So maybe you can’t change your eyes for some reason,” said Grayson.

  “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Are you only able to do people, or can you do animals too?” asked Asher.

  Zaivyer tried to turn into a dog. Nothing.

  “No, just people.”

  “Darn. That would have been so cool.”

  “What about your voice?” Grayson asked.

  “What about it?” Zaivyer asked.

  “When you changed earlier, the first time, your voice changed. It became deeper, like someone a little older.”

  “Right! You’re saying that maybe I can change just my voice?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Let’s see.”

  He imagined what another voice would sound like and had the very strange sensation of his throat rippling.

  “Well?” asked Aidan.

  “I’m not—” he stopped in surprise. “It worked! Man, that felt so weird.”

  He focused, felt the ripple again, and when he spoke again, his voice was back to normal.

  “Okay, that was cool,” he said. “I could have some fun with that.” Then he got an idea. “Wait. Guys, the haunted house!”

  “What haunted house?” asked Asher.

  “The haunted house that DHS does every year around Halloween! We should do a room!”

  The haunted house was an annual student-run fundraiser, held in an old house on the high school’s property.

  “Right!” said Asher. “I keep forgetting that we go to DHS now! Yeah, we should definitely do something. It would be so cool to actually participate in it instead of just going through with the tour groups!”

  “Yeah,” said Grayson. “I mean, we’ve been through it—what, two dozen times in the past two years? We know what works.”

  “I almost didn’t make it through last year, the first time,” said Aidan.

  “Seriously? You wanted to leave early?” asked Zaivyer.

  “Almost. And don’t act so surprised. I remember how you were. We had to drag you into the clown room the second time through.”

  “Okay, okay, that’s true. But you never mentioned that you were that scared!”

  “Guys!” Grayson cut in. “If we’re making a room in the haunted house this year, we need to plan what we’ll do. We should definitely use Zaivyer’s abilities. Mess with some heads.”

  “Yeah, that’ll be fun,” Zaivyer said. They spent the next hour and a half talking, planning, discussing ideas. They were determined to make their room the best on the tour.

  ***

  September 26, 2049, 9:46 am

  Monday. It was back to reality, although that was rather hard for all four boys after the events of the long weekend, especially for Zaivyer. He had gone through his first few classes in a distracted daze, trying to process what had happened to him. If not for his friends and the constant heat and vibration of his metal plate, he would have thought it was all a dream.

  Now it was time for their first-ever Student Development Group meeting. SDG was kind of like homeroom/counseling, but it only met once a month. Asher, Aidan, Grayson, and Zaivyer were all in different groups. Grayson’s and Zaivyer’s groups were in neighboring classrooms, so they were walking together.

  “What if the teacher wants us to share a fun fact or something during introductions?” Zaivyer asked. “What do I say? Hi, I’m Zaivyer Verling and I’m a shapeshifter? I don’t want the whole school to know. I haven’t even told my mom yet!”

  “Just tell them you do impressions. You know, since you can change your voice,”
said Grayson.

  “And what if someone asks me to do one and I can’t change my voice to do it? I don’t even know if I can do characters!”

  “Then let’s try one right now.” He named a cartoon character.

  Zaivyer imagined the voice and felt a ripple. Instead of saying anything, he focused on his normal voice and felt another ripple.

  “Well?” asked Grayson.

  “I felt the change, so it definitely worked. I just changed back right away. That voice would probably carry.”

  “Then there’s no problem! If you aren’t sure if it will work, tell them you haven’t learned that one yet. It’s all technically true. You’re just letting them think you’re doing it the... you know, the normal way.”

  “Normal has become pretty relative for me.”

  “For all of us, you mean.”

  They had arrived at their SDG classrooms.

  “I’ll see you afterward,” Grayson said. “You’ll be fine.”

  Zaivyer looked around the classroom. There were about a dozen kids, half boys and half girls. Everyone was familiar from the past couple weeks of school, but he didn’t really know any of them. That would make it easier. He sat in a desk in the second row, between a big boy with a buzz cut and a girl with blonde hair in a ponytail. A moment later, the teacher, Mr. Willis, stood up to start the meeting.

  “Hi, everyone. Welcome to your first SDG meeting. As I hope you know, we’ll be meeting here once a month every school year. Today we’re just getting to know each other. We’ll start with names, where you’re from if it’s out of town, what extracurriculars you’re involved in or want to be involved in, and a fun fact. Let’s go in alphabetical order. Katie Abbot, you’re first.”

  After Katie Abbot was Scott Carson, Thomas Dewler—the boy with the buzz cut—then McKayla Fern, Michelle Harley, Danny Jones, Dylan Michaels, Ryan Norris, a girl named Jamie Stanley, then Christy Stewart, and Anna Thomson, the blonde girl. Finally, it was Zaivyer’s turn.

  He stood up nervously. “Hi, I’m Zaivyer Verling. I’m not involved in anything right now, but I’m going to do track and the haunted house. My fun fact is that I do impressions.”

  There were exclamations like “Cool!” and “Really?”

  “Can you do a few now?” Scott asked.

  “Sure. Give me some accents or characters or something. Hopefully, I’ve learned them already.”

  “Can you do an Australian guy?” asked Danny.

  Zaivyer imagined the voice, felt the ripple, and said with an Australian accent, “Sure I can, mate. Australian is easy. You gotta know that one, right?”

  He changed back. “Anything else?”

  There were more requests for different movie characters and a few other accents. Luckily, Zaivyer knew them all. Then Dylan changed the subject.

  “If you don’t mind my asking, what’s that thing on your forehead? The metal thing?”

  Zaivyer touched it. As usual, it was warm and vibrating faintly. “I’m honestly not sure,” he said. “All I know is that I’ve always had it and that my dad had it too.”

  “Huh. Well, it’s freaky.”

  “Dylan, be nice,” Anna scolded.

  “It’s fine,” Zaivyer said. “I’m used to it.”

  “What about your eyes?” Katie asked. “Is that natural, or are you wearing contacts?”

  “No, they’re natural,” Zaivyer said, now a little embarrassed at the attention. “It’s called heterochromia.”

  “That’s so cool.”

  Then the bell rang. It was time for the next class. Zaivyer gathered his things and headed for the door to meet Grayson.

  ***

  Later

  School was over, and Zaivyer was on the track, stretching to prepare for the track team tryouts. The team was no-cut, but the tryouts helped determine which events each person would do. Zaivyer had been a sprinter in middle school, but he also loved discus and the high jump. He hoped he would get to do them again in high school.

  As Coach Jameson called everyone over to the starting line, Zaivyer glanced at the bleachers and saw Aidan, Asher, and Grayson watching. Like him, they were curious to see if Zaivyer’s newfound abilities would affect his performance on the track, or if, perhaps, new abilities would emerge.

  “Okay, everyone, we’ll start with the sixty-meter sprint. There’s too many of you to go all at once, so we’ll split you up. Now, the sixty-meter is very short, from this line here to that line there, by Coach Julie.” He called down the track, “Hey, Julie, wave for us!” A brown-haired woman farther down the track waved.

  Coach Jameson continued his instructions. “Because it’s so short, you’ll need to start with the blocks. Does anyone not know how to use blocks?” A few people raised their hands. “Okay. You all come over here and I’ll give you a quick demonstration.” He showed them how to adjust and use the blocks, then the sprints began.

  Zaivyer was in the third and final group to do the sprint. As he adjusted the blocks—the last person had been shorter than him—he felt the same way he did on Saturday before he discovered his ability to shapeshift. Something was about to happen.

  “Ready, set, go!” Coach Jameson said, and Zaivyer exploded off the blocks. While he ran for the finish line, he felt strong, free, like he always did when he ran, but something was different this time. It wasn’t until he crossed the finish line a few seconds later and saw the others still a full second behind him that he realized what that difference was. He had been going faster than he ever had before.

  “6.56 seconds!” Coach Julie exclaimed, looking at her timer. By then the entire team, Coach Jameson included, had joined them. “Jameson, I think we may have a star sprinter here.”

  “Wow,” Jameson said. “That’s a great time for a high school runner. What’s your name again?”

  “Zaivyer Verling,” Zaivyer said.

  “Well, Zaivyer, you’re a fantastic sprinter. Did you run track in middle school?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, you’re pretty fast for someone your age. You must have been working on your time.”

  No, actually, I haven’t, Zaivyer thought, but aloud he said, “Yeah, thanks.”

  Jameson turned back to the team. “Okay, everyone, let’s move on to the 100. Same drill. We’ll run in groups, use the blocks, but this time we’re going to that line.” He pointed to a line farther down the track, near the first curve. “Everyone back to the starting line.”

  Every race went the same way as the first. Zaivyer was blowing all of his middle school times out of the water, and he didn’t feel out of breath until the 1600-meter run. Even then, he only felt a little tired. His breathing evened out less than a minute after finishing the run.

  Coach Jameson and Coach Julie got more excited with every race. Once, when he crossed the finish line for the 400, Zaivyer touched the metal plate on his temple and noticed it was warmer and vibrating stronger than usual. A moment later it had returned to normal. His feeling before tryouts had been right. Something had happened—he had discovered yet another new ability.

  Now it was time for field events: long jump, high jump, discus, and shot put. Unlike with the races, everyone got to choose which events they wanted to try and Coaches Jameson and Julie would decide which of those events they would do in meets. Zaivyer chose discus and high jump. He had never liked shot put or long jump. His first time doing the former, he had nearly dislocated his elbow trying to throw the shot put, and whenever he did the long jump, his shoes filled with sand. The other two, however, were fun. He loved throwing the discus, even if it did make him a little dizzy. As for the high jump, that had become his favorite event once he figured out how to position his body to avoid hitting his feet on the pole.

  After waiting in line for several minutes, it was Zaivyer’s turn to throw the discus. He had three chances to get it as far as he could. His middle school record was about thirty meters, an average distance for middle school. As he picked up the discus and entered the circle, he noti
ced that it felt lighter than usual. He glanced at the weight marked on one side. It was the same weight he’d used last year.

  “Okay, Zaivyer, go ahead,” said Coach Jameson.

  Zaivyer gripped the discus, his fingers finding the edge, and began to spin, preparing to throw. When he released the discus, it flew in a straight line into the field, landing close to the tape measure extending down the center. He squinted down the field at the tape measure. With his new senses, he could read the small numbers easily. If he was measuring correctly, the discus had gone about forty meters, a little farther than most high schoolers could throw and a lot farther than he ever could. Zaivyer touched his metal plate. Sure enough, it was warmer. He grinned. Here was another new ability. He was stronger.

  “40.25!” Coach Julie exclaimed. “That may be a school record!”

  Zaivyer’s other two throws were even better: 44.8 and 51.3 meters.

  “I know I’ve said this before, but wow!” Coach Jameson said. “How did I not hear about you when you were in middle school?”

  Probably because I wasn’t nearly this good in middle school, Zaivyer thought.

  Zaivyer’s high jump was just as good as his discus throw. It had been almost a year since he had done the high jump, so he had been worried his feet would hit the bar. Instead, he cleared it by at least a foot every time the bar was raised. Coach Jameson was so excited he could hardly sit still. Coach Julie had been grinning ear to ear since the 400. Zaivyer had a feeling he would be very busy at meets in the next four years.

  “Okay, everyone,” Coach Jameson said. “Gather ‘round.”

  When everyone had come over, he said, “Great job, everyone. As I hope you all know, this team is no-cut, so you all made it. Coach Julie and I were keeping track of your times and we’ll be deciding which events you could do at the meets. That’ll be emailed to all of you in the next couple of days. In case any of you enjoy tracking your progress, we’ll also send your times in that email. First practice is on Wednesday after school.” He grinned and added, “Now hurry up and get to the locker rooms. I’d like to go home.”

  ***

  When Zaivyer reached the bleachers, Asher, Aidan, and Grayson ran over.

  “Dude, that was awesome!” Asher said.