Maya and the Rising Dark

by Rena Barron

  A shiver shot down my back when I thought about the man from my dreams again. It would be easy for one of his writhing ribbons to trap me like a fly in a spider’s web. Thankfully it was just a nightmare, but that didn’t make him any less scary. “A staff won’t matter in a real fight,” I said, concluding that it would be nothing against him.

  Papa raised an eyebrow. “How do you know?”

  “Because knives and guns and other things are more dangerous,” I answered. Emphasis on other things. “We can’t defend against them—or something even worse—with a staff.”

  Papa struck again, and the force pushed me back. “That’s true. Sometimes it wouldn’t be enough.” Then he held his staff in front of him. He never went anywhere without it, even when he left for work. “This is my lucky staff,” he said. “It’s always served me well.”

  I didn’t mean to insinuate that his staff was useless. It was actually pretty cool, especially the way the sun made the symbols shimmer. “Your staff is good,” I said, going on the attack, “but mine is better.”

  Papa looked surprised, then his face transformed into pride. He struck back without warning, but I was ready for him and thrust my staff out to catch his blow. Then I stepped to the side and the momentum of his strike pulled him forward, while I was already clear of his path. He’d taught me how to face an opponent much bigger and stronger than myself. Now I couldn’t stop grinning. Soon I’d be as good as him or better.

  “Good work, Maya.” Papa laughed. “You’re a quick learner, but don’t get too cocky.”

  Before I could say anything, a piercing boom shook the ground so hard that I almost lost my balance. Car alarms went off on the streets, and Lucky barked. A flock of birds flew in a panic from the tree in our backyard. Papa’s face turned a little gray, and his mouth settled into a hard line. He looked afraid.

  Papa was never scared, or more than mildly upset. At that moment, I realized that he wasn’t invincible, no matter if in all his stories he always outwitted his foes. A tremble crept up my arms as I leaned on my staff for balance. The fact that Papa was afraid made me scared too.

  “Was that an earthquake?” I asked, my voice quiet.

  I’d never heard of an earthquake causing such a loud boom. They weren’t common in the Midwest, and definitely not Chicago. At least there didn’t seem to be any real damage. One by one the cars stopped blaring as people turned off their alarms.

  “It sure felt like one.” Papa tightened his grasp on his staff and looked around as if he expected someone to appear out of thin air. “I have to leave again tonight,” he said, rushing his words.

  “You just got back!” My voice was so high-pitched that I sounded like a little kid. “Can’t you stay the whole weekend?”

  “My work is never-ending,” he said, his face stern. “There’s much I must do.”

  “Can’t someone else do it for a little while, Papa?” I begged. “Why is it always you?”

  Papa winced. “I told you already, Maya, I’m the only one who can.”

  He always gave the same answer, so I asked, “What’s so important about your work?”

  Papa frowned and said, “I promise I’ll tell you very soon.”

  * * *

  Mama had a shift at the hospital again. She went through her usual routine of looking for her misplaced car keys and purse, and Papa helped her. When she was almost out the door, he wrapped his arms around her, and she leaned against his chest. They stayed like that for a long time. Neither said a word.

  “Be safe,” Mama whispered. “Okay?”

  “Always,” Papa answered.

  My cheeks warmed watching them, so I stared at the TV instead.

  Soon after Mama left, Papa announced that it was time for him to go too. I would be home alone again. I wasn’t scared, but I wished the three of us could spend more time together.

  “Will you be back in time for Comic-Con?” I asked, biting my lip.

  “Of course, I will.” Papa knelt in front of the couch where I sat. “I wouldn’t miss taking you to see Oya, the great warrior goddess. If we’re lucky, we’ll get a picture of the two of you.”

  My heart lit up at that idea, but I wouldn’t let it distract me from my plans.

  Papa got dressed in his usual multicolored shirt (this one red with penguins on it), jeans, and a dark coat. After he left to walk to the train, I counted to ten, then followed him. Mama would usually drive him to the airport, but with the car gone, he’d have to take the orange line to Midway. I knew I was breaking Mama’s number one rule (don’t ever leave the house alone at night), but something wasn’t right. Papa never left again so soon, and he was upset after the earthquake this morning. Not only that, he’d paced back and forth and stared out the window all day. He even took a private call upstairs in the middle of lunch. I didn’t have much of a plan, but maybe I’d get lucky and overhear something on the way to the train.

  As I hurried down the sidewalk, shadows crawled in the places where the streetlights didn’t reach. There were a few people out, but the streets were mostly empty. If Papa or Mama knew that I’d left home alone after dark, they would ground me for a month. Even worse, they might take away my Comic-Con tickets, so I had to be extra careful.

  Papa kept looking around, almost like he expected something to happen. It was eerily quiet, and I got that queasy feeling in my stomach again. A little voice in my head told me to go home, but I didn’t listen.

  The longer I followed Papa, the more things didn’t feel right. The darkness seemed to almost breathe on its own. I forced myself to keep going as the shadows grew closer. “It’s just your imagination,” I whispered.

  But I didn’t believe it was my imagination when Papa stepped into a curtain of shadows and vanished. I stopped cold, and my hand flew to my mouth to cut off a scream. The shadows had swallowed him up.

  They swallowed him.

  “Papa?” I snapped out of my shock and rushed after him, but he was gone.

  My breath came out hard and fast, and my lips trembled.

  I turned around and looked everywhere. There was no sign of him. My heart thundered against my chest, and goose bumps lit on my arms. The shadows pressed in around me and felt slick against my face. I could smell them too. They stank like rotten eggs.

  When I backed away, something reached out of the dark and grabbed my wrist. Cold seared into my skin. I tried to free myself, but the thing only tugged harder. Shadows like writhing snakes crawled up my arm—and I knew it was him. The man from my nightmare. Come to make good on his threat to kill me.

  I clawed at the shadows with my other hand, only they slithered up that arm too. I screamed, and the darkness muted my voice. When I kicked, my foot connected with air.

  Pain shot up my arms. My hands had gone numb. Frost started to creep across my skin. I wriggled my stiff fingers, and the ice crystals cracked and shattered. Then, with all my strength, I closed my hands around the shadows, which felt like thick ropes. I was sure they would turn me into an ice cube, but I gritted my teeth and jerked my arms back even harder. This time it worked.

  I was barely free before someone grabbed my shoulder. I tried to pull away, but the person held on tight and stopped me in my tracks. A hot breeze whipped against my neck as a piercing screech rang out in the night. I flinched when the shadows recoiled and disappeared into the darkness.

  Before I had time to sigh in relief, the person spun me around. I stared up at my cranky neighbor, Miss Ida Johnston. I knew it was her, not Miss Lucille, because of the mole over her left eye. She glared down at me with a look that said I was in big trouble.

  Five

  When I face something

  worse than shadows

  Miss Ida narrowed her eyes into slits that made her look like an iguana. Her hand was still clamped down on my shoulder in an iron grip, and my whole body trembled beneath her touch. I couldn’t stop thinking about Papa and how he’d disappeared into the shadows.

  “Did you see that?” I asked, my v
oice shaking.

  She let go of me and massaged her forehead like I was giving her a headache. That was when I noticed that she didn’t have her cane. “What are you going on about?”

  “The shadows,” I said, realizing how silly it sounded out loud. “They tried . . .”

  I still could feel an ache from where they’d climbed up my arms. Their touch was colder than the worst Chicago winter, so cold that it burned. I couldn’t stop wiggling my fingers to make sure they still worked. “You had to see them.”

  Miss Ida frowned. “Stop letting your imagination get away with you, Maya.”

  “It wasn’t my imagination,” I yelled.

  Oh no, I shouldn’t have done that.

  I cringed as Miss Ida raised one eyebrow and cocked her head to the side.

  “See what happens when you aren’t where you’re supposed to be?” she said, her voice full of venom. “Your parents would skin your hide if they knew you were out this late.”

  “Didn’t you hear me scream?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

  “Of course,” Miss Ida said. “That’s why I came to see what the commotion was. I saw you standing there like you’d lost your good sense. What in the heavens are you doing out here?”

  I shouldn’t have expected Miss Ida to believe me. Who had ever heard of shadows coming to life? That kind of thing only happened in scary movies. “I was looking for someone,” I said, not telling the whole truth.

  Even if Miss Ida didn’t believe me, what I saw was real. I set my jaw, glaring into the dark. I was going to figure out why all these weird things were happening in my neighborhood, and next time, I’d be ready.

  Miss Ida shook her head and rolled her eyes. “Come on, you’re going straight home.”

  As she ushered me down the street, sweat drenched my clothes and the night air chilled me to the bone. I glanced over my shoulder and could’ve sworn that the shadows moved again.

  For someone who hadn’t seen anything, Miss Ida looked over her shoulder a lot too.

  * * *

  At school, I did a lot of staring out the window, so much that two teachers threatened to put me in detention if I didn’t stop. After Miss Ida had marched me home Saturday night, I called Papa. His voicemail kept picking up. I tried again and again until finally he answered. He immediately thought something was wrong, and I made up an excuse for calling so he wouldn’t worry. He said that he was boarding a plane. I could hear all the noise in the background and the wind whipping against the phone. He was okay. That was all that mattered. The shadows hadn’t gotten him, but they were real.

  In science class, Eli, Frankie, and I worked on a group project together, as in Frankie did the work while we watched. Science was her specialty. Her prescription goggles covered up most of her face and made her eyes look huge. She wore her hair in two puffy pigtails, one on either side of her head. Whereas Eli had pale skin and light eyes, Frankie had deep brown skin and eyes almost as dark as my own.

  “You could’ve been sleepwalking,” she said in her squeaky voice after I told them what happened Saturday. “It’s more common than people think. My mom says it happens to fifteen percent of the population.”

  Between Frankie and both her moms, they had enough IQ to invent interstellar space travel. But science couldn’t explain the writhing shadows, nor the world turning gray. “I wasn’t sleeping while standing in front of the chalkboard.”

  Frankie frowned as she bent over her experiment. That was her thinking face, and I knew her computer brain was hard at work on another theory. While she fiddled with the copper wires and batteries, Eli played on his phone.

  “I took some pictures this weekend,” he said. “I didn’t see anything paranormal in them, but I’m convinced that we’re dealing with a ghost invasion.”

  Frankie quirked an eyebrow at that. “Where’s your concrete evidence of ghosts?”

  “Where’s your concrete evidence that dark matter really exists?” Eli shot back.

  “Well, actually . . .” Frankie’s face lit up. “Scientists can measure it, so we know it’s real.”

  Eli slapped his forehead. “Why did I even ask?”

  “I don’t know the right answer,” I said, “but I plan to get to the bottom of this.”

  “I’ll help,” they both chimed.

  I was in enough trouble already, but there was no way around it. I had to figure out what was happening in my neighborhood. “I’m going back outside tonight after my mom leaves for work.”

  Eli sank in his chair. “It’s bingo night at the community center, and Nana is hosting, which means I’m stuck offici­ating. There’s no way she’ll let me out of it. Plus, Jayla and I spent a day making brownies for the players. She’ll have a fit if I don’t come.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Frankie said, barely holding back a smile. “I want to test a theory.”

  “Miss Abeola.” Mr. Jenkins’s eyes landed on me as he approached our table. His black-rimmed glasses had slipped to the end of his nose, and he had his hair braided in cornrows. He frowned as he noticed my lack of progress. Frankie had finished, and Eli had at least uncoiled his copper wire and stacked his batteries. The copper wire in front of me was still coiled up, and the pack of batteries unopened. “I would hate to have to email your parents and tell them you’re slacking off in my class.”

  Mama was already going to ground me as soon as Miss Ida told her about Saturday night. I didn’t need more trouble. “I was thinking of my hypothesis before getting started, sir,” I droned.

  Mr. Jenkins glanced up at the clock. “It’s fifteen minutes until the end of class, and you spent all this time thinking about your hypothesis?”

  “Actually, sir,” Frankie butted in, “Maya and Eli helped me conceptualize the design on our three-tier dimmer, so that’s why they’re both behind.”

  Mr. Jenkins’s eyes lit up when he saw Frankie’s work. “Class, gather around and see what Miss Williams has created,” he said. “As always she’s demonstrated a mastery of science.”

  Not only had Frankie powered two light bulbs, she’d built a switch using a penny and wires to turn them on and off. The other kids stood around our table asking Frankie how she did it. She grinned, happy to explain her process in painstaking detail.

  After the bell rang, Mr. Jenkins raised his voice over the noise of kids packing up. “Tomorrow we’ll practice making lightning in a jar—one of my favorite activities.”

  Lucky for me, Mr. Jenkins seemed to have forgotten about his threat to email my parents.

  * * *

  Frankie waited in the hallway while I told Ms. Vanderbilt that I didn’t feel well, and she let me out of tutoring. I expected a speech about keeping up with my studies, but she had three times as many papers on her desk to grade than last week. Once I was in the clear, Frankie and I headed for my house.

  When I walked in the door, I braced myself in case Miss Ida had told Mama about the other night. Instead Mama asked if Frankie and I could help her find her missing shoes. We checked in all the closets and the pantry and found them underneath a pile of laundry.

  “Mama, can Frankie stay for dinner?” I said, hopeful.

  She glanced between the two of us like she knew we were up to something. Then her cellphone vibrated against the living room table, which distracted her. “As long as you girls behave, okay?”

  Frankie and I both said, “Yes, ma’am.”

  Once Mama left, we ran upstairs to my room to come up with a plan.

  “Now we go shadow hunting,” I said. I was a little excited and a lot scared, but I wasn’t going to hide from whatever attacked me on the street. Maybe I didn’t know what had Papa upset, but I could figure this out.

  “We need a flashlight,” Frankie said, “and a whistle.”

  “I get the flashlight for the dark, but why the whistle?”

  “Actually, the flashlight will test my theory,” Frankie said. “Shadows can’t exist where there’s light, so the flashlight should act as a repellent. It’ll
be like bug spray for mosquitos.”

  “What if it’s something else?” I asked. “What if it’s not shadows?”

  “You said a loud screech scared them away before,” Frankie said.

  “The whistle is to scare them away,” I said, my eyebrows shooting up. “You’re a genius.”

  Frankie scratched her forehead. “Well, technically I am—”

  “Never mind.” I raced down the hall to get flashlights from the storage closet.

  Frankie was in the middle of explaining light theory when we heard the cranky twins through the window. Neither of them had their canes as they unloaded groceries from their SUV. In fact, both twins looked like they’d never had any trouble walking in their entire lives. Seeing this, Frankie frowned at me, and I shrugged. I couldn’t explain it either.

  I narrowed my eyes, remembering two nights ago. No way Miss Ida hadn’t seen the shadows. She was right there. “There’s something weird going on with the Johnston twins.”

  “I know that face.” Frankie adjusted her glasses. “What are you scheming?”

  “I think they know something,” I said. “Let’s see what they’re up to tonight.”

  With that, we tweaked our original plan. After a quick dinner, we waited until nightfall and set out to follow the cranky twins. I brought my staff just in case. You can never be too careful with hungry shadows on the loose. We stayed a full block behind the sisters and didn’t use our flashlights, so we wouldn’t draw their attention. They walked fast, and I didn’t expect two elderly women to move as well as they did without their canes. They peeped down alleyways and in abandoned lots, searching for something. It was clear they weren’t out for a casual night stroll.