Trey Roberts and the Ancestor's Wish

by Lee Magnus

  “Hey Sweet T,” she said with a smile that changed to concern when she turned from the garden to him. He looked disheveled and worried. “Are you ok?”

  “Mom! You’re here. Thank goodness,” he said with a deep exhale.

  “Yeeeah,” she replied inquisitively. “Where else should I be?”

  “Oh,” Trey realized how panicked he must have looked and sounded to her. He instantly forced a relaxed position with a hand on a hip and twisted his face into an awkward smile. “No – Nowhere,” he said in a higher voice than normal. “You, uh, shouldn’t be anywhere else. I’m ok. Don’t worry about me.” He then returned to the house leaving his mom in a confused stupor.

  She followed him in to find him sitting in a chair in his room staring at a dresser drawer when she asked again, “Are you ok? You’re acting very strange.”

  “Yeah, uh. I’m ok. I’m just having a hard time at soccer,” he said raising his eyes to the wall so she wouldn’t suspect anything in the drawer.

  “You want to talk about it?” she asked as she sat on the bed next to him.

  “No. Not really,” he said still looking away.

  “Well if you –“ she began before he turned to her and blurted rapidly.

  “Coach moved me to midfield and I don’t really remember how to play and Davis is no good at striker Phillipe thinks it’ll be ok but I think we’ll have a hard time against Ridgeview in our current formation but coach won’t move me back but I don’t want to be moved back I just want coach to help Davis be better so we don’t lose the game tomorrow and I’m hungry.

  “O-k,” she said with a raised eyebrow and a caring mama voice. “How about we have dinner and talk about it then. “

  “That’s a good idea. Thanks.”

  She hugged him with one arm around his back then left the room. His attention drifted to the drawer again when she popped her head back into the room, “We’re having BBQ chicken tonight. Is that ok?”

  Startled, he quickly drew his attention away from the drawer containing the artifacts and said, “Yeah. BBQ would be great. How about some butter toast with it?”

  “If you want butter toast, you can make it yourself.”

  “Ok. I’ll make some for you too.”

  “No. Thanks. I’m watching my carbs,” she said as she pressed her tight tummy.

  “What do you need to watch carbs for? You’re already skinny.”

  “Thank you, Trey,“ she said appreciating his compliment. “Now let’s get dinner ready.”

  “Ok. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  Over dinner Trey told her about the position change and his challenges with Davis. When she asked why Rafiq made the decision, he stumbled but convinced her it was related to the formation change rather than his recent excursions considering she thought he was at Marcus Bouer’s working on a school project that for some strange reason required a real sword.

  He finished the evening in his room working on homework. He fell asleep amid conflicting thoughts about Sarah and Leslie.

  Looking over the desolate cliff, the flaming sword became alive in the evil demon’s grasp. Now standing beside the demon he felt deathly heat from the dispassionate weapon. The sword lowered – Trey became the flame, driving violently toward the village. Blurred landscape in reds, blues and whites passed his peripherals. The impact of the attack jolted his sleeping body askew. The missile of plasma now engulfed him head on while he kneeled ahead of a woman and child who screamed helplessly as the fire ravaged everything around him. An image of a sun separated into three pieces by a thin line emerged in the sand at his feet while attempting to duck from the blast. HAHAHAHAHA!

  Trey awoke to the haunting laugh – gasping for breath and rolling around snuffing out imaginary flames. “Holy crap, what a dream!”

  “Ready for your match today, Honey?” Trey’s mom asked as he stumbled into the kitchen for breakfast. She wore jeans and a white tee shirt.

  He rubbed his scruffy hair patted the disk in his pocket and said, “Yeah, I guess so.”

  “Well don’t seem so enthusiastic about it,” she said as she turned from the sink with a warm bowl of cinnamon oatmeal.

  He slumped into a chair at the kitchen table. “It’s not that. I’m just … tired. I haven’t been seeping well lately.”

  “Does it have anything to do with that Sarah girl?”

  “Sarah?” He instantly woke and sat upright. “How do you know about her?”

  “I’m your mother. It’s my job to know about you,” she said smiling.

  “No. it’s not about her. She’s just a friend. Besides,” he scratched at the worn wooden table, “she likes a high school kid.”

  She looked off into the distance, “I remember when I was in middle school. Those high school boys just seemed so much cooler … and sexier (she said as an afterthought) than the kids my age.”

  Trey’s teenage sarcasm took over, “Thanks, mom. You’re really comforting.”

  “Sorry Hun. Looks like it’s just as true today as it was back then. Don’t worry about it. High school boys are dumb. She’ll figure it out.”

  “Thanks. I guess.”

  “Well, eat and get your stuff ready. We have Ridgeview to beat!”

  He smiled and continued his oatmeal.

  After breakfast back in his room, he took the sword from under his mattresses. He spent the next hour watching and mimicking the actions from online sword play videos on his phone. Jabbing and thrusting, a smile crossed his face as he worked harder and thrusted stronger with each move. After his self-motivated training session, he replaced the sword and went outside to work on dribbling in the backyard. The disk, while incredibly light, bounced annoyingly in his pocket. He reentered the house found an elastic band that fit perfectly around the disk and his upper thigh while hidden under his shorts, keeping it secure and out of the way during activities.

  Trey changed into sneakers. He looked toward the road as he left his soccer gear in a neat pile by the front door. He grabbed his bike from the side of the house then slowly peddled by a car with tinted windows he hadn’t noticed in the neighborhood before. The engine started as he passed. He approached a similar car parked at the entrance of the neighborhood.

  I wonder if these are the people Lyza said would be watching me and my family. He looked back periodically at the slowly trailing vehicles. He briefly considered cutting through a wooded lot in an attempt to ditch the lurking watch, but fear crept into his spine and opted for the added security.

  He rode to the park to meet Donald. The temperature was mild. Flimsy clouds battled in the blue sky. One of the tinted windowed cars stopped on the far side of the park.

  Trey jumped the curb with his bike, crossed the open space toward Donald who was passively swinging in the swing set. Trey then skidded to a stop sending woodchips flying onto the adjacent slide.

  “Hey, Trey! Thanks for coming,” Donald said as he jumped from the swing. “Thanks again for bringing dad home.”

  “No problem. He’s an amazing man, your dad – very smart,” he replied as he set the bike down.

  “Yeah. Yeah, he is. I’ve missed his witty humor and ability to build stuff.”

  “Haha! I bet you did. I’m glad he’s back.”

  Trey intended to wait for a good opportunity to ask his questions but became too anxious and spouted it right out. “Did he, by any chance, say how he knows my dad?”

  “No. Sorry. We didn’t talk much about him.”

  Trey looked down in disappointment then he perked up as the comment registered. “Much? So, he did get mentioned?”

  “Yeah. Dad said he worked with him on a project in Atlanta. Said he needed his expertise on a device.”

  “What kind of device?”

  “He said something about it stopping portal access.”

  “Really? He said it would stop someone from using a portal?”

  Donald misunderstood Trey’s motivation for asking the question and tried to avoid the embarrassment of Trey
thinking he believed his dad’s crazy stories. “I think so. I don’t believe it either. He said a lot of really weird stuff. I think he lost it while he was away.”

  “I don’t know,” Trey said unsure of how to address the uncomfortable topic. “Did he say exactly where they worked in Atlanta?”

  “He said they used a physics lab at a university in the city.”

  “That was all?”

  “Maybe not, but that’s all I remember.”

  Trey kicked at the woodchips then asked, “What exactly did he tell you about what happened?”

  “Everything,” Donald said with wide unbelieving eyes.

  “What do you mean by everything?” Trey further inquired, not believing Don would be entirely forthcoming about his line of work.

  “Everything, Trey,” he said as he leaned in closer and lowered his voice as if someone were spying in on their conversation. “He told me about his office in China, his work with ancient artifacts and that some were,” he looked away then back with a serious expression, “magical.”

  “And you believed him?”

  “Not really,” he said in a way that Trey felt he was unsure about what he believed. “But he was convincing. He said a bunch of stuff about a group of whacked monsters and the end of the world.”

  “And you don’t believe any of that?” Trey said trying not to give up his position on the matter.

  “Uh. Of course not,” he stumbled with the response. “I’m not that gullible. What I do believe is that you went out of your way to convince the lady to bring him home.”

  “That’s what he said happened?”

  “No. He said something ridiculous about you, a dragon and teleporting with Mr. Hampton.”

  Trey looked away and said distantly, “Yeah. That is a ridiculous story.”

  “Do you think my dad’s crazy?” he said directly. “Do you think all that time alone made him lose his mind?”

  “I - I don’t know about that. I think your dad is very rational. I’m not sure why he said all that other stuff.”

  “He said I needed to know so that I would be prepared when they come again.”

  “When who comes again, the monsters?”

  “Yeah. He’s crazy, isn’t he?”

  “I, uh – “ Trey noticed an elderly woman with a cane slowly approaching. She entered the playground area from the road about half a football field away. “Something looks strange about that woman,” he said to Donald.

  “What do you mean? It’s just an old woman,” Donald responded while looking over his shoulder behind him.

  “No. Something isn’t right. Do you think she knows us? She’s coming right at us and…” he thought for a minute, “there’s something about how she’s walking.”

  “Dude. You’re freaking me out. I don’t recognize her. It’s just an old woman with a cane.”

  “That’s it! She has a cane but isn’t using it! It’s just dragging behind her like a limp tail.”

  “Run! Donald! Run!”

  Just as Trey turned to run, the old woman leaped into the air and landed ten feet in front of them.

  “What the heck!” Donald shouted.

  Its face withered into a gruesome mass. Donald screamed like a little girl as it morphed into a rogglet.

  The two boys dashed across the grassy park, away from the creature.

  “I’m sorry Trey!” Donald said as they hurdled a large plastic pipe designed as a playground obstacle.

  “What could you possibly be sorry for!” Trey screamed as the rogglet launched after them.

  “For chasing you and your friend the other day!” He looked back and screamed again.

  “Not the time, Dude!”

  Donald suddenly stopped and turned toward the approaching rogglet.”

  Trey screamed as he fell down trying to catch his friend, “Donald! No!”

  BAM! BAM! Sounded shots diagonal to them. Donald flopped onto the ground holding his hands over his head as if he were hiding.

  The rogglet’s head exploded, sending chunks of greyish-green ooze everywhere. The remaining body toppled awkwardly to the ground with a thud. A leg continued to twitch for several seconds scattering pieces of chipped wood while it dug a lifeless hole. Two men holding pistols rushed toward them from the direction of the tinted windowed car.

  “Trey! What is that thing! Trey! What is it!” Donald shrieked as he sat up facing the decimated creature. He began hyperventilating.

  “Hey buddy,” one of the men wearing a red baseball cap said as he holstered his weapon. “Let’s have a seat over here,” he continued as he helped Donald off the ground and ushered him toward a bench away from the mess.

  The other, with a buzz cut rapidly scanned the area. He said to his partner, “It looks clear.” He then approached Trey. Trey noticed the shield symbol tattooed on his forearm. “Trey,” he said with a friendly French accent. “My name is Charlie.” Which sounded like Sharlie to Trey. “I’m with the Order of Hsehk. That was close. We were informed they can take the shape of humans, but that one looked so real.”

  “You didn’t know it was a rogglett?” Trey asked worriedly.

  Charlie replied evasively, “I, uh, we haven’t yet seen one of this kind.” He redirected the attention toward Trey’s efforts, “We might have experienced a gravely different outcome if you hadn’t been so quick to notice its inability to use the cane properly.”

  “Yeah. I guess I’m lucky,” Trey responded gloomily.

  Charlie replied with an upbeat tone that hinted of defensiveness, “Hey. Don’t be so down. We’re here to help.”

  “I know. Thanks for getting here on time.”

  “I promise we’ll do better next time.”

  Trey winced at the comment. “Next time?”

  “We didn’t expect them to be onto you so soon after returning. Where’s the sword?”

  “I hid it.”

  “You may need to keep it on you at all times.”

  “I don’t think that’s possible. It’s a big sword and I’m a small kid and if you haven’t noticed, normal people don’t carry swords these days.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Just hide it well and we’ll be nearby when you need us.”

  “Ok. Thanks, Charlie.”

  Trey sat next to Donald who regained his composure and gazed far away.

  “It’s all real isn’t it? Everything my dad said is true.”

  “I’m afraid so.” Trey flicked a glop of goo from Donald’s shoulder.

  “He’s really not crazy then?” He looked at Trey with an empty expression.

  Trey smiled, “Nope.”

  “So, you really did battle a dragon to help rescue my dad.”

  “Yeah.”

  “And teleportation is real?”

  “That too.”

  “Holy crap.”

  “Exactly. But these guys are here to help,” he motioned to the two guys that wasted the rogglet.

  “They’ll keep you and your family safe.”

  “Ok,” Donald responded still in shock.

  “Trey. We should go,” said Charlie.

  “Ok. Can you take him home? I have my bike. I’ll be fine.”

  Charlie looked as if he were texting someone on his phone then replied, “Another unit just showed up. We’ll carry your friend home. You’re free to take the bike.”

  Trey thought to himself, Free? I’m free to go? He didn’t like the sound of that. He instantly felt claustrophobic and infringed upon.

  “Hey, Donald.” Donald slowly looked into Trey’s dark hazel eyes. “You gonna be ok, buddy?”

  Donald didn’t respond.

  “These guys will take you home. They’ll sort it all out with your dad. Ok?”

  Donald nodded in agreement then followed the red-capped guy to the car.

  Trey then said, “Thanks,” to Charlie and peddled away with an unassuming car following close behind.

  He felt like he should be a little more freaked out about the attack. He was concerne
d that maybe he was becoming too accustomed to life threatening situations.

  He dropped the bike in the yard as the car pulled to an adjacent curb. The adrenalin from the playground was gone while the shocking reality of the event creeped in.

  His mom stood in the kitchen when he entered the house wide eyed and thoughtless. “Where were you? We’ll be late. Grab your stuff and let’s go.”

  Trey was instantly plucked from the darkness and didn’t understand. “What? What do you mean late? Late for what?” He came around and realized he had plenty of time to get to the soccer fields. He pushed away the playground attack and said, “But Mom, It’s only noon.”

  “I know. I have to run by the museum, and we should probably eat some lunch.”

  “Oh. Yeah. I am hungry. Can we do the Indian place set up like a sandwich shop?”

  “That sounds like a good idea and it’s near the Metro Station we’ll need to take to get to the museum.”

  After Trey and his mom put away lunch, they boarded the Metrorail heading east toward Washington D.C. Trey noticed the man with a buzz cut enter the train right behind him. They exchanged nods of acknowledgement.

  Regardless of the added protection from his personal security escort, Trey was instantly nervous entering the train. It was full and the lively Saturday crowd was suffocating. Flashbacks to the Shanghai incident with the shape shifting rogglet on the train passed his mind as well as the recent one with Donald.

  Trey stood while his mom took a seat next to him. He scanned the crowd looking for anyone odd, trying not to single out older people considering that’s been his only experience with the new breed of rogglet that could be anyone. He breathed a little easier when he didn’t notice anyone that wasn’t engaged in a conversation or staring mindlessly into an electronic device. The uneventful ride ended when they exited at the L’Enfant station which emptied onto a busy glass shaded sidewalk lined with newspaper kiosks and food trucks.

  They turned right onto Maryland. Trey eyed the domed capital building in the distance. They passed several white buildings of similar construction as they neared the National Mall.

  Walking through the museum, a canopy of stars greeted them with a moody and reflective atmosphere. As they walked, the halls told a story of the native American’s relationship with nature, seasonal observances, ancestral wisdom, and beliefs about the order of the world in vivid color and detail. Further in the museum, depictions describing the complicated history between Indian Nations and the United States were arranged in artistic formations. Treaties, diplomacy, armed conflict, and forced removal were etched on every boarder. Trey felt that the exhibits were deficient in accurately describing the injustices and horrific treatment of Native Americans by the U.S. government, something he hoped his mom could convey in her exhibit.