by Lorenz Font
My dad looked up from his paper, and his brows furrowed. “Young man, you know how I feel about fighting,” he said in a stern tone.
Self-conscious, I tried to cover the evidence with my hand, but when my palm made contact with the bridge of my nose, I flinched from the pain and my eyes watered.
“Explain yourself,” Dad ordered while Mom fussed over me, the frying bacon forgotten.
I waved her off. “Mom, I’m okay. It’s not broken.” Then I turned to my dad. “I didn’t start the fight. I’m not suspended from school, but Kevin Masters is.”
My explanation seemed to calm my dad down a bit. “That boy is a bully.”
My mother huffed. She knew how miserable Kevin had made my life since middle school. “He ought to be expelled.”
“Cynthia, it’ll take more than one suspension to get the son of a prominent councilman expelled from school,” my father reminded her. “I still don’t want you fighting, Brian. Avoid him at all costs.” We’d had this conversation many times over the years. My father didn’t realize the impossibility of what he was asking.
“I know. I’m glad he was suspended. Serves him right.”
Mom went back to her bacon while I drummed my fingers on the table. I hadn’t realized how hungry I was until I smelled the food.
“How is Shannon?” Dad asked.
I told them about her father’s death, omitting all the crazy details.
When I fell silent, Mom asked, “You like her, don’t you?”
I’d known it was just a matter of time before she questioned my friendship with Shannon.
“She’s a friend,” I said, trying to sound casual.
“Well, she’s a pretty girl, and such a delight to talk to. I hope she comes out of this tragedy in one piece.” Mom shook her head.
“She’ll be all right.” I kept my expression blank.
“Give her a hug for me,” she said.
I’d love to, but since Matro had been designated to keep me in line, I wouldn’t dare. I happened to like having my limbs intact.
“Here you are.” Mom placed a plateful of food on the table.
I picked up my fork to help myself, but my dad coughed. “Let’s say grace first.” He took my hand and my mom’s to create a little circle. We bowed our heads for a silent prayer.
The moment they released my hands, I dove in. The rest of the meal was spent talking about Dad’s new celebrity clients. Thankful that attention had turned away from my swollen nose, I feigned interest to avoid any further discussion about it.
After I helped clear the dishes away, I went to my room and got in the shower. I thought about my nightmare. The explosion meant something had happened, but I didn’t know what it was yet or who’d been the sacrificial lamb this time. I hated not knowing.
My cell phone beeped with an incoming text when I was toweling myself dry. It was from Shannon.
Relatives are coming from out of town. Will be busy the entire weekend.
I replied, Take it easy. I’ll miss you,
Me, too.
Those two words made me feel good, making the prospect of not seeing Shannon more bearable.
With the entire weekend all to myself, I decided to finish my homework right away so I could spend my time hanging out with Mark and Darryl. I flipped my English Lit book open and took out a sheet of paper to outline my analysis. I started skimming, having read The Glass Menagerie years ago. For some insane reason, the words “friend” and “tragedy” kept flashing before my eyes while I read.
I tried to concentrate on my outline, but the image of the words kept hounding me. The continuous bombardment exhausted me. I put down my pen and fished out my ear buds, hoping music would distract me. While I waited for inspiration to hit, I leaned against the headboard of my bed and closed my eyes. I must have fallen asleep, because it was dark when I opened them again.
The clock said it was already nine o’clock. I had been asleep for several hours. Why in the hell hadn’t Mark and Darryl shown up? I rolled closer to the nightstand and to switch on the lamp, and everything fell into place like a jigsaw puzzle. Matro’s words echoed in my head. I jumped up and paced the room while dialing Darryl’s number. He didn’t pick up, so I tried Mark’s number. Thank God, he answered on the second ring.
“Bro, where are you? Where’s Darryl?”
“I’m with him. We dropped by your house, but you were sleeping. Then his Dad called him to fill in at the gas station tonight.”
“Are you there yet?” I shouted, feeling the ringing in my ears. It now made so much sense.
“Yeah, we got here two hours ago. What’s going on?”
“Get out! Get out now!”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Mark sounded alarmed.
“Get out of the gas station. Run as fast as you can. Do it now!” I yelled across the line. “I’m not kidding. Now!”
I pictured the massive explosion, the darkness of the night lit with bright orange flames and filled with suffocating black smoke. The words from The Glass Menagerie—friend and tragedy. It had been a warning all along. Now I remembered Matro’s advice. The Ergans would stop at nothing.
Mark didn’t respond, and the call was dropped. “What the hell?” I redialed but got a busy signal. My heart was pounding hard against my chest. I ran out of the house, car keys and phone in hand, barefoot and still in just my pajama bottoms.
Please, please, don’t let this happen. Please!
A cloud of dust was left in my wake when I hit the accelerator hard, hoping I wouldn’t be too late for my friends.
The war had begun.
Aarmark versus Ergans
With no plan in mind, I wove in and out of late night traffic, trying to reach Mark and Darryl. There was no way I would let them fend for themselves since I was responsible for endangering them. Without their knowledge, they had been dragged into a war just because of their association with me.
I tailgated and cut in front of cars to get ahead, receiving a lot of angry honks while I snaked through every gap I could find.
Matro appeared in the passenger seat next to me without warning.
“You scared me,” I hollered, flooring the gas again.
“Sorry,” he said, intently watching the road.
We were still a few blocks away when the ground shook and massive flames shot into the night sky. The intense light burned in the darkness.
“Oh, hell!” I pounded the steering wheel with my fist.
Inch by inch, I worked through the sudden jumble of cars that had stopped in the middle of the street. I took a hard left onto a side street and found a parking spot. We took to the street on foot, Matro running next to me. I threw a quick glance at him, and he was already armed with weapons strapped across his chest. His scabbard made jingling noises while we covered the first block.
Several sirens blared in the distance. Matro stopped running, but I kept on, ignoring the way the rough pavement scraped my feet and each little pebble punched into my skin. When he caught up, he was holding his shoes out to me.
“Stop and wear these.” He handed me the big-ass pair of combat boots.
I followed his orders even though I’d look like a clown in my PJ bottoms, T-shirt, and boots. Who would care, anyway? I slipped on the oversized shoes and wasted no time continuing my sprint.
When we cleared the corner, several fire trucks had already trained their hoses on the burning structure. Clouds of smoke were billowing up while they battled the raging inferno. I scanned the crowd, hoping to see Darryl and Mark somewhere. My heart pounded against my chest.
“Sir, you can’t move any closer.” A cop eyed me with detachment.
I glanced at Matro and realized the cop couldn’t see him, so I stepped back.
“Ha-have you seen two teenage boys anywhere?” I stammered, unable to get the words out of my mouth. My tics were trying to manifest themselves, but I suppressed them, rotating my neck to ease the tension in my muscles.
The distract
ed cop shook his head, and I had no choice but to move to another location. The onlookers multiplied by the minute, gawking at the tower of brilliant flames. There was movement not too far away from us, and I saw two Ergans back away.
“I’ll be right back.” Matro palmed his scabbard and left in pursuit.
Jesus. What a mess. I cupped my palm to my mouth and called out for Mark and Darryl as loud as I could. My voice had to compete with the noise surrounding me. I walked back and forth, but there were too many people. Just when I was starting to think I had lost them, I spotted Mark and Darryl leaning against a squad car, talking to an officer. I ran toward them as fast as my legs would take me.
Their expressions when they saw me were terrified but relieved. I barreled in their direction, heedless of the cop interviewing them. We hugged like we’d never done before.
After a few minutes, Mark pulled away, looking uncomfortable, and then glanced around. “Did you dream about this?”
I nodded, sparing a glance toward the cop who seemed intent on finishing up the investigation. Darryl spoke up. “Officer, we need a minute here.”
The officer huffed. “Fine, but hurry up. I don’t have all night.” Then he walked away.
Once we had a little privacy, I urged them to sit down on the sidewalk. “I’m glad you guys are okay,” I whispered.
Mark could only nod his head.
“I wish I had known this was going to involve you guys.”
Darryl released a shaky sigh. “Tell us what’s going on.”
Before I could speak, Mark found his tongue. “Right after you said to get out, I heard rumbling from the front, like an earthquake, so I pulled Darryl out towards the back exit. We heard the explosion when we were running away.”
“Damn. You guys could’ve been killed.” I felt sick to my stomach.
“I’m glad you called.” Darryl glanced around, shaking his head.
“I should’ve warned you guys right away, but everything that’s going on is just too unbelievable. It took me some time to figure out the signs, but I’m glad it wasn’t too late.”
The cop came back and interrupted our quiet conversation, studying me with interest. “Time’s up. I need to get back to the station. Who is this?”
“He’s a friend of ours,” Darryl said.
“Well, let’s wrap this up, and you can fool around later.” He gestured for Mark and Darryl to follow him.
Fooling around? Cop or no cop, the guy deserved a punch in the face.
I stayed within earshot. No one mentioned anything about my phone call, which was good. I doubted that they would have believed us anyway. The blaze continued to rage, and soon Darryl’s parents arrived.
Mark and I stepped back and watched the teary reunion. After being reassured that their son was unhurt, they switched their attention to the cop.
We stepped away and continued our conversation. “Did you call your parents?” I asked Mark.
“Yeah. They’re catching the first flight they can find.” He still sounded shaken.
A loud crackling from the burning structure distracted us. The extreme heat from the fire fanned across our faces. Nothing had been spared.
Darryl checked over his shoulder to make sure no one was paying attention to us. “So what do we do know?”
We leaned against a squad car, and I launched into a brief explanation, beginning with the death of Shannon’s father. Then I told them about my introduction to the Aarmark creatures and how the Ergans were manipulating events.
“You mean that’s who did this to us?” Mark asked in disbelief, his eyes wide with terror.
I stood up and tried to shake off the oncoming twitches. “Yes. It’s my fault for getting you guys involved.”
“Damn.” Darryl shot to his feet. “I don’t know about you guys, but I ain’t taking this sitting down.” All those hours of playing video games had given him confidence, but he needed to remember that this wasn’t a game.
“Calm down, you knucklehead. We’re dealing with aliens here. Aren’t you afraid you might end up dead?” It looked like Mark, for a change, was going to be the voice of reason.
Kicking a pebble with his foot, Darryl nodded. “Of course I am, but I’m not going to sit around and wait for those bastards to kill us.”
Mark looked unconvinced. He began to pace. “What do you think, Talon?”
“Well, I’m chin-deep already since I promised Shannon’s mother I would help. But you guys don’t have to be involved in this.”
Mark stroked his chin while Darryl started muttering. “This is so not freakin’ happening,”
“The hell it isn’t,” Darryl chimed in. “Just think, we can combine our mad skills from Call of Duty and League of Legends.”
This made me smile, but I shook my head. We were talking about real danger, and my bonehead friend was treating it like a game.
Mark grinned. “I still get to be Varus.”
Darryl clapped his hands. “And I’m going to be Garen. Booyah!” He pumped his fist in the air.
“Epic.” And really dumb, I thought to myself while we high-fived each other.
A movement from the corner of my eye alerted me to Matro’s return. He was wiping the blade of his weapon on his pants.
Mark shook his fist. “This is war!”
“Damn right!” Darryl seconded.
“I think if we’re going to do this, it’s time to introduce you to Matro, a fighter from the land of Tranak.”
Mark and Darryl whipped their heads in the direction I pointed, and they both stumbled backwards, eyes bulging out of their sockets, when Matro became visible to them.
“What the hell?” Mark said.
“He … he … is the alien?” Darryl continued backing away.
“Hey, guys. This is not a joke. He’s real, and we’re the only ones who can see him,” I said, grabbing Darryl by his shirt and dragging him back.
Matro saluted and moved closer. The man walked like a predator, fierce and determined. “Let’s get one thing straight. I’m not an alien. I’m from another universe, understood?” My friends nodded with a mix of awe and intimidation. “Then if we’re on the same page, I suggest you kids keep your voices down. People might think you’re crazy.”
“Uh, um … ” Mark cleared his throat. “Can I touch your weapons?”
Matro chuckled. “Can I touch your nose?”
Mark was clearly out of his element, and Darryl’s mouth gaped open.
Matro took this as an opportunity to explain himself. “First rule in my book. A weapon is a part of your body. It is sacred. It could mean life or death.”
This made sense, and we all nodded in understanding. “Are you going to teach us?” I asked.
Matro hesitated. “Well, I know Detherina ordered Car to teach you some tricks, but I guess these two can join in.”
This seemed to light a spark in my friends, who jumped up, rubbing their palms together. “We’re ready!” Darryl said.
“You think you’re so slick,” Mark told him.
Just then, Darryl’s father called for him. Mark and I waited while they talked, and then Darryl came back. “We’re going home now. I’ll call you guys in a bit.”
“Take care, bro,” I said before he turned away.
“Brian, can you give me a lift?” Mark asked.
We left the scene, still shaken from the horrible experience, but also filled with anticipation at the prospect of learning to fight from Matro and Carionis. While we walked to the car, Matro walked alongside us, and Mark kept glancing at him until he nearly stumbled.
“Bro, he’s real, if that’s what you’re wondering about,” I said.
“Dude, I’ve always known you were weird, but this one tops the charts.” Mark shook his head in disbelief.
“Thanks! I aim to please.” I opened the door, and he took the front passenger seat.
“I won’t join you, Brian, but I’ll be around.” Matro waved and disappeared.
“Weird,” Mark repe
ated and then slumped against the leather seat.
“Fffuccckkkk.” Involuntary tremors and phonic tics assaulted me as soon as I sat in the driver’s seat. I didn’t fight it this time. In fact, I welcomed the twitches, letting them run their course. All I felt was relief that my friends had made it out alive. After some time, the jerking stopped, and I pushed the car’s start button. Mark was so used to my attacks that he didn’t even pay attention anymore. His eyes were closed, and I could guess what was running through his mind.
I drove home through the maddening traffic around the explosion and made a silent vow to myself. I will make an effort to take all clues into consideration. No other human would be dragged into this. The war between Detherina and those ugly mofos had almost taken the lives of my best friends. The last thing I needed was to have more innocent lives affected by my new bizarre reality.
Sunday was humdrum compared to the chaos of Saturday night. Mark, Darryl and I communicated often, either by text or online chat. We even got in several games of L.O.L. to take the edge off. On top of that, I also worked on finishing my English outline and even wrote an extra analysis for Shannon. I figured she’d be too distraught to worry about homework. We exchanged texts when she wasn’t occupied with preparations for her dad’s funeral service. She and Elizabeth had been busy dealing with out of town relatives.
I told my parents about the explosion before they could find out from the news media. The cause of the explosion had been identified as arson, according to the reports on television. Police authorities and fire officials were still piecing all the clues together, but I had big doubts they’d ever find who was responsible.
Monday came and went without incident. I attended all my classes, regretting the reason for Shannon’s absence. The news of her father’s death had spread like wildfire around campus, and as far as I could tell, most of the senior class was planning to attend the memorial service.
The service was set for the next day, and with my parents’ blessing, I skipped school to attend the funeral. Darryl and Mark did the same. Tuesday morning, we all squeezed inside my coupe and drove together to the chapel.