Mayhem

by Artist Arthur

  “I assure you that does not get them preferential treatment,” Dumar argues.

  I just give him a “yeah, right” stare.

  “Now, I don’t know what Jake’s problem is with these boys but he continues to assault them.”

  Dad’s shaking his head. “Mr. Dumar, that doesn’t even sound right. Why would Jake confront not one but two boys, repeatedly? Don’t you think there has to be something else going on here? Something else like bullying?”

  “Sure,” Butthead buts in. “Your son’s bullying those boys.”

  “Right,” I say. “I’m bullying two seniors, pounding on them every chance I get. That makes a lot of sense.” Even though lately I have been getting the upper hand with Pace and Mateo, that’s most likely why I’m sitting here now.

  Officer Colter jumps up, leaning over the table toward me. “You need to learn to keep your mouth shut, boy.”

  Dad stands and leans over the table right back at Officer Colter. “And you’re about to be reported to your chief for harassing my son.”

  Colter’s face turns a girly shade of pink as he sits back in his chair. Dad might not have supernatural powers but he’s sure fighting on my behalf.

  “Tell him how long they’ve been bothering you, Jake,” he says and my stomach churns.

  I don’t want to be a snitch. I just want to deal with Pace and Mateo on my own terms. Unfortunately, that got me kicked out of school, and after having a little time to think about it, I realize getting my education is a lot more important than keeping my mouth shut.

  “It started in elementary. Just little stuff like throwing paper at me, calling me names. Just last year it escalated.”

  “Escalated how?” Dumar asks.

  I shrug. “They’d post a few things in chat groups about me. Name-calling got worse and then they started pushing on me.”

  Dumar nods. “And this year you decided to push back?”

  “Yeah,” I say, slamming my hand on the table. “I’m sick of them thinking they’re better than me, that I should bow down to them because they have more money than I do. They’re jerks and I don’t care what you say, if they bother me again, I’m fighting back. I’m not ignoring them anymore!”

  Dad puts a hand on my shoulder and I shut up.

  “It’s all right, son. You’ve got a constitutional right to defend yourself. Just like the school has a right to do something about bullying. And if Mr. Dumar doesn’t, I will.”

  Dumar drags a hand down his paunchy face. “Now, threats aren’t necessary.”

  “It’s not a threat, Mr. Dumar. I promise you if you and your staff don’t do something about this situation I will go over your head. My son shouldn’t have to come to school ready to use his fists to fight for respect. He shouldn’t be faced with assault charges because some kids think they’re better than him. And I’m not going to tolerate it.”

  Before Dumar can come up with a response to Dad’s stellar argument there’s a knock on the door and then it opens. I’m shocked to see Mr. Strickman coming in. He looks right at me and I feel like he’s trying to tell me something.

  “Excuse me, but I heard this meeting was taking place and I wanted to be sure I didn’t miss it.”

  “Mr. Strickman, you’ve already filed your report on the incident that happened in your gym class. There’s no need for you to be here,” Dumar says quickly.

  It’s then that I notice Dumar’s sweating. His wrinkly forehead is beaded with sweat and the thin strands of rusty orange hair are sticking to his pale skin.

  Mr. Strickman holds up a hand to stop Dumar’s words. “I wanted to make sure my report and my comments went on record here. Mr. Kramer, Jake shouldn’t be the one expelled. Hunter and Livingston intentionally goaded and assaulted him. I’ve seen them do this on a few occasions, including the one in the hallway.”

  Strickman had been in the hallway that morning? I hadn’t seen him. Then again, I wasn’t really on the lookout for teachers that day.

  “What, are you in cahoots with the trackers?” Officer Butthead asks.

  Strickman sort of cocks his head, staring at Butthead like he can see right through him. “Are you in cahoots with them?”

  And I don’t know, but the way he says them has me wondering.

  “No. No. Let’s just calm down,” Dumar says, huffing like he’s run around the track a few times. With fumbling fat fingers he closes the folder he’d opened a few minutes ago. “Look, maybe I do have some of the facts wrong. But I’ll get to the bottom of it. This meeting is over.”

  “No, it’s not,” Dad says. “My son needs to be reinstated. He shouldn’t be put out of school for defending himself.”

  The cops look at Dumar but Dumar avoids their gaze like an addict steering clear of rehab. He looks at Dad instead. “He can come back tomorrow.”

  “And what about those boys?” Dad asks. “I want to know what’s going to be done about them. Because if they keep harassing Jake I’ll have them arrested.”

  Butthead makes a sound under his breath but Strickman adds, “And I’ll back up any complaint Mr. Kramer makes with my own.”

  Now there are two people on my side, Dad and Strickman. I don’t know how to react to this.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Dumar says. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it all.”

  Dad stands and I follow his lead. “Good. I expect you to. Come on, Jake.”

  As I follow Dad out of the room we’re stopped in the hall by Strickman. He’s wearing khaki pants and the school’s white polo shirt. He looks like a college student instead of a teacher. He extends his hand to Dad and says, “I’m Dan Strickman. I’ve got Jake for gym last period.”

  Dad nods and shakes Strickman’s hand. “Thanks for what you did in there. I just hope it helps.”

  Strickman smiles. “I think it will. See you in class tomorrow, Jake,” he says to me.

  He’s got that look again, like he’s saying something to me but not in words.

  I just nod. “Yeah, sure.”

  Dad and I leave the school and instead of going home we head to Maggie’s, where we share some burgers and conversation that has nothing to do with school or supernatural powers.

  “How’re you holding up?” Dad asks when he’s almost finished his burger. “I know you’ve been through a lot and learned a lot these past few weeks.”

  I shrug, then think better of giving him a blasé answer. It’s time I start trusting my dad a little more. After all, he’s all the family I have now. “I guess I’m coping. I miss Pop Pop.”

  He nods. “I know. I do, too.” Then Dad takes a couple fries into his mouth, chewing while he seems to be thinking of something else to say. “I miss your mom, too.”

  I can’t believe he just said that. “How did she die?” I ask.

  “All she ever wanted was to keep you safe until you grew up and she could explain everything to you. She wanted to teach you about the powers herself. But she didn’t get the chance.”

  “I don’t know how he found you, but she left me a note that morning after I’d gone to work that said things didn’t look good but that you were the priority. That no matter what, Pop and I were to look out for you. Then she was gone.”

  His voice hitched then he cleared his throat. “I never even had a body to bury.”

  “Just like Uncle William.” I sigh. “You think that’s what happened with Pop Pop?”

  “Pops was old and he was sick. But he also had knowledge of this other world that I could never understand. There are some humans like that, you know. They know about that place and the ones that live there. Pop knew and he believed with all his heart. I think the one that wanted you knew that. I think he may have played a part in Pop’s last moments, sort of giving him a supernatural push. But Pop’s time on Earth was almost over anyway.”

  “That’s why we had Pop Pop’s body to bury?”

  “Maybe. Or maybe it’s just because he wasn’t from that other world. Maybe they can’t just take a human body. I don’t
know.”

  Then Dad reaches across the table, touching my arm.

  “What I do know is that I love you, son. And I’m behind you in this mission you have. Although I’m not from that place, never doubt my commitment to you.”

  I nod, feeling closer to Dad than I ever have before. “I won’t.”

  “Now,” he says, picking up his burger and pausing before taking a bite. “Tell me about this girl you’re seeing. Is she like you?”

  I think about Krystal and all I can say is, “She’s great.”

  Dad knows a lot about girls, some of which was a little weird hearing from him, but it’s nice to be able to talk about everything with him, the good and the bad.

  So even though this day started out a little shaky, it’s ending kind of cool.

  I wonder how long that will last.

  “I’m getting my license in a couple of weeks,” I say to Krystal as we’re walking from the bus stop toward Sasha’s house. We’re meeting there again.

  They invited me, so I guess that means things are back to normal. I’m still a little irritated that they were talking about me behind my back, but I guess if they thought I was in danger of becoming evil they didn’t really have a choice.

  “Cool,” she says.

  We’re holding hands as we walk but she’s looking the other way, kind of like she has something else on her mind.

  “I’ve got some money saved. Dad says he’ll match it and I can buy a car. Nothing fabulous, just something so I can stop supporting the public transportation system.” I laugh a little, trying to get her attention.

  “That should be nice,” she says. But she’s been strangely quiet today.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  She looks at me. “No.”

  I keep looking at her, knowing she’s not telling me the truth.

  “Well, yes. I mean, I’ve just been wondering how it felt. To like, be almost evil, how did it feel?”

  Great, she’s still thinking about that, too. I guess I should have expected it. I’d probably have more questions, too if I were her. “It feels weird and scary,” I say honestly. “It’s no fun not knowing who you are or what you’re meant to be.”

  “Do you know now?”

  A car drives by, adding a little noise to the otherwise quiet afternoon. I shrug. “I guess.”

  We walk a little farther and I ask a question that’s been burning in my mind for days. “My mom said my friend called her, that day in the cemetery. Did you call her?”

  For a second or so Krystal seems to hesitate, then she takes a deep breath and exhales. “Remember a couple months back when I called you to the cemetery?”

  I nod.

  “I told you there was something guiding me there, some spirit that needed me. For weeks I kept trying to figure out who the spirit was and what they needed. I didn’t know until that moment when we were in the cemetery again. Watching you suffer with conflict, trying to decide what to do, was tearing me apart. And when I thought my own pain and fear would prevent me from convincing you to do the right thing, the answer came to me. I closed my eyes briefly and there she was. I’d never seen her before but I knew instantly who she was and how she could help.”

  Krystal, the medium and my girlfriend, had called my dead mother back from the afterlife to help save me. That was momentous, I knew. Still, I didn’t really know how to digest it.

  “Thanks,” I say, knowing that it’s inadequate.

  Looking over at me, Krystal smiles and squeezes my hand. “Don’t mention it,” she says in a carefree voice.

  But we both know what’s happened between us is nothing to be carefree about.

  Lindsey’s coming up the other side of the sidewalk as we get closer. I look at her clothes first, because lately, with her I just don’t know. She’s wearing all white, sweatpants, T-shirt and baseball cap, with her long dark hair hanging through the opening in the back.

  “I’m fine, Jake. How are you?” she asks looking right at me.

  She’s not smiling but she looks happier, like a huge burden has been lifted from her. I wonder if that burden was me.

  “I’m good,” I tell her even though I think she already knows.

  Sasha opens the front door and yells. “Come on, you’ve got to hear this.”

  We move up the walkway and head into her house. Before we even take a seat, Sasha’s talking.

  “My dad’s in Alaska. He called my mom last night, told her he was working on a new venture and he’d be there for a while. She’s all excited thinking we’ll be moving to Alaska soon, but yuck!” Sasha takes a much-needed breath, then continues. “Anyway, I talked to Fatima and she was strangely quiet when I mentioned Alaska. So I got to thinking, if Fatima’s quiet and Dad’s staying in Alaska, where is Mr. Bryant? I really think they’re together working on that Project S. And if I’m right and they’re working on it in Alaska, the question is why.”

  “The question is,” Krystal says, putting her hands on Sasha’s shoulders, “what have you been drinking, snorting or sniffing that’s got you so pumped up? Take a seat and a deep breath, please.” She pushes Sasha down onto the couch and sits beside her.

  Lindsey flanks Sasha’s other side. “It’s a lot you’re trying to get out, but we have time. Just take it slow.”

  Sasha’s head full of curls is shaking. “No, we don’t have a lot of time. It’s dark there, don’t you see. All the time it’s dark, that’s why they’re there and I’ll bet the demon that was haunting Jake, that Charon character, he’s there, too.”

  “Wait a minute, what are you talking about? Why would Charon be in Alaska?” I ask.

  Sasha sighs. “I just told you, it’s dark there.”

  “And?” Krystal and I ask at the same time.

  “They can hide in plain sight if it’s dark. Whatever their plan of attack is now, it happens there, in the dark.”

  We’re all quiet, not real sure we understand what she’s saying.

  Then Lindsey starts to nod her head. “Barrow, Alaska. On November eighteenth the sun goes down and doesn’t rise again until January twenty-fourth.”

  I wonder why she knows this but then remember she’s like a walking encyclopedia, keeping facts in her head like she’s one day going to get paid to do so—or, quite possibly, need them to save the world.

  “Wait a minute,” Krystal says. “So he’s gone. The Darkness is no longer in Lincoln?”

  I shake my head, because I, unlike the rest of them, can feel the answer. Don’t ask me how, I just do. Almost like déjà vu, I just know. “It’s still here. He has to keep an eye on us. We’re still the ones to stop him, no matter where he goes, so he has to watch us.”

  “Why us?” Krystal asks.

  “It’s our time,” I say. “On Earth, at this time, it is for us to stop the evil that threatens to tilt the balance in all worlds.”

  “How do you know that?” Sasha asks.

  “Because he is a Vortex,” a female voice answers.

  All eyes turn to the window where the orb of light comes through. It was a silent entrance, one that none of us were aware of until she’d spoken. But now we see her in all her otherworldly glory.

  Fatima.

  “His life is a mirror of the Vortex before him,” she says coming closer to us.

  “Uncle William,” I whisper.

  twenty

  “William Kramer was a Vortex who has left this Earth, but you, Jake, are still connected to him. By blood and by power,” Fatima says.

  “So will he, like, always know what’s going to happen before it happens now?” says Lindsey, who is sitting on the arm of the couch now because she’s gotten up, walked around, then sat back down about three times since Fatima’s appearance. I don’t know what her problem is, maybe both she and Sasha drank one of those energy drinks, or two or three.

  Fatima shakes her head, flaming red hair moving along her shoulders, a huge contrast to her pale skin and white dress.

  “William may not have know
n everything before it happened. But Jake will have some advantage now because William has been through a battle of his own.”

  “He fought for the light, didn’t he?” I ask, because thinking that my great-uncle could turn evil has been hard for me to swallow. I wish Pop Pop were still here so I could tell him that Uncle William didn’t choose to go bad.

  “William did what he thought was best. Unfortunately, he didn’t have friends with him as you do, Jake. He didn’t know much about the magical world. So when they came for him he couldn’t handle it.”

  “But he wasn’t evil. He didn’t choose evil,” I insist. I need to believe this, to believe that someone who shared my blood couldn’t choose to end life instead of preserve it.

  Fatima smiled. This was the first time I really saw a reaction in her. Well, at the cemetery she seemed pretty adamant about what I needed to do, but still she’d reminded me of some kind of robot just spouting words. This time, though, her smile looks genuine.

  “He was not evil and therefore Charon could not use him. But finding out cost William his life.”

  I sink back onto the chair because that’s all I wanted to hear. From her spot on the chair across from me Krystal smiles. I know she probably wanted to hear that, too. The fact that I might have been evil still freaked us both out.

  “So what now?” Sasha asks. “We go to Alaska to fight him?”

  “Charon is clever,” Fatima speaks. “He was a high-level liege to the Underworld when Styx cursed him.”

  “Why did she curse him?” Lindsey asks. “I mean, why not just kill him, drown him in that sick water of her river. Why leave him alive to wreak this kind of havoc on the worlds to come afterward?”

  I was with Lindsey. If Charon was so bad and pissed Styx off so much, she should have just toasted his demonic butt and been done with it. If she had we wouldn’t be here right now.

  “Because she’s not inherently evil. Styx was given the river to guard, turned into a goddess by Zeus after she helped him win the battle against the Titans.” Fatima moves closer so that she’s now standing in the middle of the room, her feet not even touching the expensive rug on the floor. We’re all sitting around her like pets thirsty for knowledge and possibly a pat on the head for a job well done. Silly, but true.