Trey Roberts and the Ancestor's Wish

by Lee Magnus

  “No. I don’t recall seeing a guy that fits that description,” Don replied.

  “Really? I’ve seen him both times I’ve been here – actually shaken his hand three times. Are you sure? His head is shaved almost bald.”

  “Nope. I don’t know anyone by that description, but then again, I’ve only been here a few days.”

  “Oh. True. Well, I’ll see you both later.”

  He walked through the apartment to Donald’s mom.

  “Mrs. Smith, do you know the skinny black man named Lamar? He sometimes hangs around this building.”

  “You know, Trey. I try not to look at anyone when I come and go. I might have seen him, but I wouldn’t know him. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s ok,” Trey replied in a low disappointed voice.

  “Trey. It’s so good of you to come today. Little Don has so few friends, you know, because he’s much bigger and kids get intimidated easily.”

  No. It’s because he was a mean bully, Trey thought but kept it to himself. Donald is not the same as he once was.

  “No problem, Mrs. Smith. I’m glad he and I have finally become friends.”

  “It’s so nice. Thanks for stopping by,” she said again as she led him to the door.

  He found his bike undisturbed at the bottom of the steps. He thought about what Lamar said and decided to confront him. He pulled his bike to a stop next to the skinny man on the corner.

  “What’s happening, Cool Dude!” Lamar said happily.

  “Nothing much. Just visiting my friend.”

  “That’s cool,” he said shaking his head approvingly.

  “Hey, Lamar,” Trey asked as he looked away trying to think of how to structure the question. “What did you mean when you said if I need anything? Were you just being friendly, or did you mean it?”

  Lamar looked at him questioningly then replied with a subdued voice as he leaned forward, “I meant it literally. When you rolled in here with Mr. Smith, I thought you might be someone who may need a hand every now and again.”

  Trey’s eyes brightened. “So, you know Mr. Smith and knew he was missing.”

  “Sure. Everyone knew.”

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I just know of him from this neighborhood.”

  Trey thought he wasn’t being forthcoming but didn’t press him.

  “Do you know my dad?”

  “No. I barely know you.” Again, Trey thought he wasn’t telling the truth. “Why do you ask?”

  Trey thought for a second then said, “He’s missing, and I need help finding him.”

  “I feel for ya, but I can’t take on a project like that yet.” He looked toward Donald’s apartment building and then back to Trey, “I have something else that should be concluding soon. After that, we can talk about finding your dad.”

  “Ok. Thanks, Lamar.” Trey was disappointed but accepted the reality that Lamar was most likely just talking and not actually helpful.

  “No problem, Cool Dude,” he said with his usual smile and head bob.

  “Yeah. See ya later.”

  Trey placed a foot on a pedal then Lamar said, “What’s your dad’s name?”

  Trey looked at him questioningly and said, “Wallace Patrick Roberts, Jr.”

  Lamar with a thumb and finger on his chin, looked up then asked, “Where was he last seen?”

  Trey became more curious, “Atlanta, three or four years ago.”

  “That’s cool. I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

  “Thanks!” Trey tried to make it sound enthusiastic but was even more sure that Lamar was full of it and was just pretending to be helpful.

  He pedaled a minute to the curb and looked back to find Lamar was no longer there. “What’s the deal with this guy?“ Trey said aloud.

  He stopped by his house for a rest and a sandwich before heading out to meet Marcus at the four PM movie.

  ~~

  “Hey Marcus!”

  “Trey! What’s up” Marcus said coolly.

  They exchanged a series of hand slaps that ended in a chest bump.

  “I heard about the game yesterday. I wish I could have seen you give it to old Dumb Davis.”

  “How’d you find out so quickly?”

  “Kid, please. It was yesterday. I found out from Tyrone before the game was over. He texted me from the sidelines.”

  “Of course. His twin brother’s on the team.”

  While standing in line to get tickets Marcus said seriously as he looked out into the parking lot, “Dude. I’m sorry.”

  “What are you sorry for?”

  Trey turned around to see Sarah and Kenny walking to the ticket booth – hand in hand.

  His face paled as his smile faded to a forced version of acceptance, “What? That? That doesn’t bother me. It’s…It’s not like we were dating or anything.”

  “Yo! Trey! What an awesome match yesterday!” Kenny said.

  “Thanks, Kenny,” Trey said unenthusiastically.

  “You made that Davis kid look like a doaf! That was the funniest thing I’ve seen in years! There’s even an online video of the play with clown music and everything! It might even go viral, yo. You could make bank with that!”

  Trey looked away, embarrassed by the memory of his actions.

  “Hey Trey,” Sarah said shyly.

  “Hey Sarah,” Trey said trying not to look into her mesmerizing eyes.

  Kenny continued, “I hear you’ll be practicing with us next week. Stepping up with the big boys, huh? We’ll show you what soccer’s all about. What are you guys watching today?”

  “We’re gonna see Tim Crosby Goes to Hollywood,” Marcus blurted.

  Trey cut him an angry eye.

  “I heard it was lit! We’ll do that one too.”

  “I’m really in the mood for something more adventurous,” Sarah said.

  “Na girl. We’ll do that next week,” he smiled, winked then hugged her with one arm.

  Trey cringed in dismay.

  Trey and Marcus followed the couple into the lobby. Sarah and Kenny targeted the counter. Trey took that opportunity to diverge from the arduous path.

  “What? No popcorn today?” Marcus questioned.

  Trey thought up a quick excuse. “Nah. You go ahead. I’ll run to the restroom and will meet you in there.”

  “I’ll get an extra-large so we can share.”

  “Ok. Thanks.”

  Trey turned into the restroom and stopped at the mirror. He looked at the moping sob of a person he’d become over the past ten minutes and said to himself as he rubbed a newly forming pimple, ”This is stupid. Why do I care what they do? All she and I did was walk home together. We’ve hardly spoken since then and never spoke before that day. I’m delusional to think she’d like me. That dude’s older, has a car and is probably a better soccer player than me. Just forget about her and get on with your life.”

  A stall door unlocked surprising Trey from his depressing pep talk. He started toward the door when he heard a familiar voice say, “Having girl trouble, Trey?”

  “Oh. Hey, Mr. Johnson,” he said in an embarrassed tone to his next-door neighbor that helped he and Lyza by slaughtering several rogglets outside of his house earlier that week. He turned toward the aged man and said, “You heard all of that?”

  “Yeah. I reckon I got most of it. Sorry to hear but if it helps, everyone goes through this sort of thing.”

  “Really? Because right now it seems specific to me.”

  “No, Son. It’s pretty common. I think it’s good to remember that girls come and go and then sometimes, if you’re lucky, the good ones come back around again.”

  “So how does that help me today?”

  “It doesn’t but should give you hope for the future.”

  “Yeah. I guess I can see that. By the way, what are you doing here? Are you following me too?”

  “What do you mean? I like movies.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “Ha ha!�
� He chuckled. “Lyza keeps me updated on you and I think I’d just get in the way of the guys watching over you.”

  “So, does that mean you are or are not following me?”

  “I keep my eye on you. I don’t always trust everyone.”

  “I feel that same way, Mr. Johnson.”

  “Hope you enjoy the movie, Trey.”

  “You too,” he said then opened the door. He stopped and turned back to his white-headed lanky neighbor, “Mr. Johnson?”

  “What is it, Trey?”

  “Thanks.”

  Mr. Johnson smiled a warm wrinkly smile and said, “You’re welcome.”

  Trey felt better when he joined Marcus several rows in front of Sarah and Kenny but he barely paid attention to the film. He tried not to think about them holding hands, talking about interesting stuff … kissing.

  Marcus was in hysterics next to him. Trey didn’t find the film humorous but laughed several times at his friend’s reactions, one of which involved a stream of soda blasting from his nose.

  Afterward Marcus asked, “Want to get some ice cream?”

  Mounting depression of the Sarah event returned, “No. I’m not feeling well. I’ll just go on home.” He grabbed his bike and peddled off.

  “Hey! Wait up!” Marcus yelled following behind.

  That night Trey laid in bed wishing his life were back to normal. No creepy creatures after him, no sorcerers trying to free a crazy evil ancient king, no magical artifacts. None of that. Just me and Sarah, walking home together hand in hand.

  The woman and child scream. He held them tightly closing his eyes to shield the fiery assault. Feeling the brightness diminish he opened his eyes to reveal the destruction from outside the perimeter of the village. A Long faced trim bearded man appeared behind him, ushering with his arms for Trey to follow. Trey walked slowly toward the apparition. The man vanished into a thicket. Trey ran after. He dashed through finding on the other side a large wall made of thick grey smoke. Instantly it poofed into the shape of a sun broken into three pieces by thin lines before it slowly faded.

  Trey woke that morning tired and heartbroken. The remnants of the dream barely registered as he spooned cereal into his mouth.

  On his walk to school, a red convertible slowed next to him. “Yo, Trey!” It was Kenny and Sarah.

  “Need a ride?” Kenny hollered.

  His skin boiled. He secretly wanted to deface the beautiful paint. He was too hurt to understand the source of his anger.

  “No Thanks,” he snapped.

  “Ok, Dude. See you at practice.”

  Trey winced at the comment. Practice with Coach Wood today, he thought. Practice with the varsity team. He shuttered at the thought.

  “See ya in History class,” Sarah said sweetly.

  He simmered down at the sound of her voice. For some reason, he couldn’t remember why he was so angry. He and Sarah were nothing and probably would never be … anything. “It’s completely ok that she’s with Kenny,” he convinced himself.

  They drove away leaving Trey to his lonely walk down the sidewalk.

  When he finally arrived on school grounds, he stopped by the science lab.

  “Mr. H!”

  Nick Hampton stood near his desk wearing khakis and a blue button up long sleeve shirt with the top two buttons unbuttoned. His face was tan with a day’s stubble. “Hey Trey. See any goblins last night? Just kidding. That’s nothing to joke about. Seriously though. What’s up?

  Startled at the comment he replied, “How’d you know?”

  “How’d I know what?”

  “So, you don’t know?”

  “I don’t know what?”

  “Are you messing with me?”

  “I’m confused. What are we talking about?“

  “The rogglet that attacked me and Donald Saturday. Did you know about it?”

  “No! Really? You look ok. Are you ok?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine. Donald’s fine too.”

  “Jeez. I thought Lyza said you’d be safe?”

  “I was. A couple guys blasted it before it got too close. It was really gross.”

  “So, they really are watching you closely?”

  “It looks that way. They’ve been following me everywhere I go.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Speaking of Lyza, she came to my game Saturday.”

  “She did?” he said clearly startled. “What did she want?”

  “Nothing really. Just said she had people watching us, which I found out earlier, and that she still can’t find Clievan. Seemed like she was just checking in.” He ran his fingers through his bushy hair and continued, “I hate this waiting around stuff. It’s unbearable thinking something insane could happen at any moment.”

  “I know what you mean, Trey. Just know that I’m here for you. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate.”

  “Thanks Mr. H. I appreciate it.”

  Trey glanced in the back corner, “What are you gonna to do with the portal?”

  “I’ll disassemble it, then move it to my house. I started it here because I thought I’d need to use school resources. But there isn’t anything to it. It seems to use the electromagnetic energy from the earth to function. The key is some sort of metal resembling copper. The connection the key makes opens some sort of gaping energy vacuum that is somehow controlled by the shape of the key.”

  “That sounds like a good scientific explanation.”

  “Well what do you call it?”

  “Magic, Mr. H. It’s magic.”

  “I believe in science. All so-called ‘magic’ has a scientific explanation.”

  “So, you have a scientific explanation for everything you witnessed last week?”

  “Sure. I just partially explained the portal. What else was there?”

  “What about Seth and Clievan? What about Commerand’s wandy wavy thingy? And don’t forget about the dragon.”

  “Well, uh, they were, um. Ok. I don’t have an explanation for everything but I’m sure there’s a scientific rationale for how Commerand was able to manipulate physical things.”

  “Yeah. It’s called magic. The sooner you believe in it the more sense all this makes.”

  “Ok. Fine. We’ll call it magic until I can prove otherwise. Deal?”

  “I guess that’s as good as I’ll get for now,” Trey said smiling.

  “Today’s your first day with the high schoolers? Are you nervous?”

  “Not really.” Trey hid his true feelings of incompetence and lack of confidence. “I’ve played pickup games with some of them. Kids my age never show up so most of the guys there are older. Some even in retirement age like you!”

  “Ha. Ha. You just won’t let it go, will you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Well. I hope you do well. Don’t let them intimidate you. You’re just as good as any of them and probably better than most.”

  “Thanks Mr. H. I appreciate your encouragement. Catch you later!”

  “Later, Trey.”

  At lunch Trey was startled when Leslie, the auburn-haired girl with green eyes slammed her lunchbox onto the table in front of him.

  “Hey, Leslie,” he said nicely. She seemed disturbed or maybe angry. Trey couldn’t really tell. She just sat there, looking at her lunch box, like she was trying to make it explode with her mind. As she opened the box Trey finally asked, “Are you ok?”

  “I don’t like how you treated Davis,” she said sternly.

  “Ok.” He set his fork down. “I don’t either.”

  “That was his first time at striker. You could have -” She looked at him curiously. “What? What did you say?”

  “I don’t like how I treated him either.”

  “Oh.”

  “I feel really bad about it. Thanks for reminding me and for making it worse.”

  “Worse?” she said disturbed at how he put it on her. “How could I make it worse by just mentioning it?”

  “Oh, you did more than mention it w
ith your lunchbox slamming and accusational overtones. Why do you care anyway? Davis is a jerk to everyone.”

  “That may be so, but he’s a person just like you…and all people should be treated with respect.”

  “Even a rich spoiled brat like Davis?” he added.

  Her eyes widened. He said before she wailed at him again, “Just kidding! I’m just kidding.”

  She threw a small biscuit at him and said, “You be nice!”

  “Ok. Point taken. I’ll try to catch him after lunch to apologize.”

  She seemed to lighten up. “I think that’s a good idea,” she replied seemingly satisfied with the outcome of the conversation. “I’m sorry I accused you of being mean.”

  “It’s ok. I was…and I regret it. How was your game Saturday? Did you get to play?”

  “I played the last half of the second half,” she said excitedly. “I was really nervous but made a few good passes. One set up a shot on the goal.” She smiled a big smile and softly clapped tiny claps really close to her nose.

  “That’s wonderful! I’m glad you got to play. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it. I was with my mom in D.C. It’s something else to be out on the field isn’t it?”

  “Like nothing I’ve done before. It was great. I was wondering, do you think, maybe sometime…” she seemed really nervous, “…that maybe you could, um, teach me, only if you want, to do that snake move you did for your second goal?”

  “Snake? I did the snake? Oh yeah. I didn’t even know I did it. It’s also called Elastico.”

  “Ooo. That’s much more fun to say.” She smiled and over enunciated, “E-las-ti-co.”

  “Sure. I’ll teach you. But I’m training with the varsity team this week, so maybe next week sometime?”

  “The varsity team? Really? That’s awesome!”

  He became defensive. He put space between he and Leslie. “No. It isn’t. I don’t belong with that group. They’re way too aggressive. I don’t think I’ll do well.”

  “What? Get out of here. Your good enough to play with those guys. Heck you’re only a year or so younger. Stop psyching yourself out.”

  He relaxed a little and thanked her for her confidence in him. If only he could somehow find that sort of confidence in himself, he thought.

  “That’s ok that you can’t meet me.” She seemed agreeable but disappointed.