by R. G. Thomas
“You were both tardy today,” Mr. Elder said. “Why was that?”
“We went to Taco Time for lunch,” Andy replied. “And there was a long line.”
“I see.” Mr. Elder sat back and folded his arms as he looked them over. “I don’t appreciate tardiness. It’s rude, not only to myself, but to the rest of the class as well.”
Thaddeus dropped his gaze to the floor as a sudden, fiery anger rose within him. It hadn’t been his and Andy’s fault they had been late to class. It had been the fault of those slow cashiers at Taco Time. If anyone was going to get in trouble, it should be them. A dull ache thumped at the base of his skull, and he had to press his lips together to keep from snapping at Mr. Elder.
Say it. Tell him how unfair it is. Let him know what you’re thinking.
“Mr. Cane, did you wish to say something?” Mr. Elder asked.
Thaddeus looked up and met Mr. Elder’s gaze. He hesitated a moment, fingers curled into fists as the power of magic warmed his palms, eager to be unleashed. Mr. Elder raised his eyebrows and leaned in over his desk.
“Mr. Cane? I asked you a question.”
Blast him with magic. If he told, who would believe him?
After he took a deep breath, a bit of rational thought shone in Thaddeus’s rage-clouded mind, clearing away the darker thoughts to allow a simple and polite response to bubble up.
“No, sir.”
Mr. Elder studied him before looking to Andy. “How about you, Mr. Harkin?”
“Nothing to say, Mr. Elder,” Andy replied. “It won’t happen again.”
“Please see that it doesn’t,” Mr. Elder said. “Go on to class now. And hurry, or you’ll be late getting there as well.”
Thaddeus followed Andy out the door and ran after him down the nearly empty hall. Most other students were already sitting in their desks waiting for the final class of the day to start.
“What a dick,” Andy said over his shoulder. “Come on, let’s skip our last classes.”
Thaddeus slowed to a stop. He adjusted the strap of his backpack on his shoulder and looked at the exit doors a little farther down the hallway.
Go on, what could it hurt? You’re doing great in geometry. You deserve to skip a class.
Thaddeus hesitated, then shook his head. “I can’t, Andy. Sorry. I need to go to class.”
Andy frowned. “You sure?”
Thaddeus took a step toward the exit, the desire to leave with Andy strong. So strong.
But then he thought of his parents and Teofil. He remembered how good he had felt over the summer. Even amid the danger and fear he’d experienced in the Lost Forest and at Iron Gulch, the acceptance and love had proved stronger. He owed it to them, and himself, to do his best.
“I’m sure.”
Andy’s frown turned into a sneer. “Fine, be a wuss. I’ll catch you later.”
As Andy turned away to jog toward the doors at the far end of the hall, Thaddeus took another step after him. But he stopped himself and turned back from the doors. He hurried through the halls and made it through the door right as the tones sounded.
His headache steadily worsened during the lesson, and he had a hard time focusing. Because of this, he did not participate as much as usual, but he did manage to write down the homework assignment before the final tones of the day sounded. He made his way to his locker and sorted through his textbooks, trying to decide which ones he needed to take home.
Leave them all here, what does it matter?
“Ah, Mr. Cane, I’m glad I ran into you.”
Thaddeus looked over his shoulder, and his heart sunk at the sight of Mr. Elder behind him.
“Oh?” Thaddeus said.
“Do you have a moment to talk?” Mr. Elder gestured toward his classroom not too far down the hall.
“Um, yeah, I guess so. Okay.”
His stomach trembled, and his headache thumped as he followed Mr. Elder into the room.
“Have a seat,” Mr. Elder said.
Thaddeus sat in a desk in the front row and was surprised when Mr. Elder sat in the desk to his left instead of behind the teacher’s desk.
“I had a chance to look over the homework you turned in during your days out on suspension. I have to say I’m very impressed with the insight you bring to the plight of minority races.”
“Oh. Thank you.” Thaddeus fidgeted a little, wondering where the conversation was headed.
“While you were out, I took the opportunity to review your school records,” Mr. Elder said. “You’ve moved around quite a bit.”
Thaddeus nodded. “Yes. My father has moved a lot because of work.”
Lying like your father has lied to you all these years. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.
“I see. It must have been difficult for you to make friends,” Mr. Elder said. “Perhaps that’s the reason you can so readily identify with people of an oppressed or minority class.”
“I guess, maybe. Thanks for telling me that. Was there something else you wanted to talk about, Mr. Elder?”
“Anxious to get home? Did your parents assign you chores to do because of your suspension?”
“Yeah, they did,” Thaddeus replied. “And I’d like to get a start on my homework too so I don’t fall behind.”
“I have no doubt you will remain current on your assignments, Thaddeus.” Mr. Elder got up and rounded the teacher’s desk to sit in his own chair. “You’d better get a move on before your father leaves you behind.”
“Thanks. Yeah.” Thaddeus lifted his hand. “Bye.”
He left the room, frowning as he hurried along the hall to the doors. His conversation with Mr. Elder had bounced between subjects, and Thaddeus really wasn’t sure what it had ultimately been about. He did know, however, that he felt calmer after talking with Mr. Elder, and that maybe his hard work on his studies wasn’t going to be overlooked, despite his trouble with Dixon and his tardiness.
Outside, Thaddeus spotted his father’s Camry parked at the curb about a block away. As he walked in that direction, he thought about his father’s job starting the following week, and beneath the gratitude, he felt a little sad knowing he wasn’t going to be seeing him in the mornings any longer. Maybe, since his father would be starting work so early, he’d be able to pick Thaddeus up after school sometimes?
He’ll just lie about it anyway. Why bother asking?
Thaddeus pushed the idea aside as he dropped into the passenger seat of the car. “Hi there.”
“Hi. How was it today?”
“Not too bad.” Thaddeus thought about telling his father about going to Taco Time with Andy and being late to class but decided against it. If he hadn’t received a detention, there was no need to give his father any more ammunition on top of his punishment for the two-day suspension. “Mr. Elder liked what I wrote about minority classes through history.”
“Oh?” His father glanced at him as he pulled away from the curb. “That’s good news. He’s your social studies teacher?”
“World history.”
“Well, that must have made you feel good.”
“Yeah, it did. He asked if us moving around so much made me more sensitive to these kinds of things.”
His father frowned and glanced at him again. “You told him how many times we’ve moved?”
“No, he looked at my folder after I got suspended.”
“Oh? Why did he do that? Is he your homeroom teacher or something?”
“No, just a teacher.”
“It’s nice he’s taking an interest in you.” His father fell silent and glanced at him so many times Thaddeus grew suspicious.
“Why do you keep looking at me?” Thaddeus asked.
“No reason,” his father said. “I can’t look at you?”
“No, but you’re acting guilty or something.”
His father smirked. “I may have done something.”
“May have done something?” Thaddeus rolled his eyes. “What is it?”
�
�I hosed all the poop off your bike.”
“You did? Oh my gosh, that’s great. Thank you!” Thaddeus shuddered. “I had totally pushed that memory out of my mind today. It was too gross.”
“It was pretty gross,” his father said. “So since you’ve had a pretty tough week, I decided you deserved a bit of a break and cleaned it off for you.”
“That was really nice, thank you.” Thaddeus looked out his window and smiled. Maybe his luck was turning around?
“Anyone bring it up in the halls today?”
“What? My bike?”
“Yeah. Did anyone claim responsibility for the prank?”
“Kind of more than a prank, don’t you think?”
“You have a point.” His father paused. “So no one said anything about your bike?”
“Nope. Not a word.”
“That’s unusual, don’t you think?”
“Dixon is suspended one more day. Maybe he’ll be bragging about it tomorrow.”
“If he does, just remember to keep your reaction….” His father glanced at him. “You know. Normal.” He waved his hand in the space between them. “Un-gifted-like.”
“Yeah, Dad, I know.”
They fell silent, and as his father drove along the side streets of Superstition, Thaddeus looked at the houses they passed. Any one of them could be where Lucian, Azzo, and the Bearagon were hiding. And any of the people out walking along the sidewalk could be one of them as well.
“You’re deep in thought,” his father said. “What’s on your mind?”
“Do you think Lucian or Azzo could be disguised?” Thaddeus looked over at his father. “Like Isadora had been? Do you think they could be someone close to us?”
His father gave him a sad smile. “This is one of the reasons I kept your heritage a secret all those years. I never wanted to see you lose that trust you have in people.”
“Yeah, but things are more dangerous now than ever,” Thaddeus said. “They know where we are. Like, right where we are.”
“Yes, they do,” his father said. “But we also know they’re coming. And we have more allies than ever before.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
“You guess I’m right, or you know deep down in your gut that I’m right and don’t want to give me a big head?”
Thaddeus grinned despite the lingering headache, the big zit he could feel on the back of his neck, and the horrible week he’d been having.
“Maybe a bit of both,” Thaddeus said.
“I thought so.” His father pulled into their driveway and put the car in Park. He pushed open the door, and they both flinched at the squeal of hinges. “Guess I’d better get some spray lubricant on that, huh?”
Thaddeus pushed open his own door, which shrieked as well. “Might as well do this one too, while you’re at it.”
“Funny man,” his father said. “How about you spray the hinges, and I’ll do the after-dinner dishes so you can get an early start on your homework?”
“Deal!”
Thaddeus hurried to the side door. He stopped long enough on the landing to toss his backpack up the two steps into the kitchen, then pounded down the steps to the basement.
“Wait a minute!” his father called down to him.
“What?” Thaddeus turned as a sudden feeling of irritation rose hot and prickly within him. “I’m getting the spray.”
His father slowly descended the steps, eyebrows raised as he looked at him. “Watch your tone, young man. I know what you’re looking for, but I was going to suggest you summon it with magic.”
“Oh.”
Thaddeus stood in place at the bottom of the steps. He looked toward the small fold-up workbench his father had brought with them on every move since Thaddeus could remember. Somewhere along the cluttered surface was the can of spray lubricant, but he could not see it from where he stood.
“Can you see it?” his father asked.
“No.”
“Good.” His father moved to stand directly in front of him. “Look at me.”
Thaddeus met his father’s gaze.
“Now,” his father said. “Focus on what the can looks like. Remember how it felt the last time you held it.”
“It’s been a long time,” Thaddeus said.
“Think about it. Get the feel of it in your mind and, when you’re ready, call it to you.”
Thaddeus closed his eyes.
“Keep your eyes open,” his father said.
Thaddeus opened his eyes and frowned. “It’s more difficult with my eyes open.”
“That’s the point.”
Thaddeus scowled but kept his gaze on his father’s face as he thought about the can. He saw the blue and yellow label in his mind. When he’d held it in the past, it had been cold and a little slippery from the lubricant blowback each time it had been used.
The power of magic thrummed along his arm, warming him, and he stuck his right arm out toward the workbench. Something rattled, and a jar of nails did a little jig along the top of the bench. Seconds after he called to the can, it slapped against his palm. Thaddeus looked at it and laughed.
“I did it!”
“You did it,” his father said, then stepped closer and lowered his voice. “But only here at home, okay?”
Thaddeus’s smile faded as he remembered his father’s anger earlier in the week. “Yeah, I know.”
“The only exception would be if your life is in danger,” his father said. “Outside of that situation, magic should not be done in public.”
“I get it,” Thaddeus said.
“Good.” His father grinned. “Now get going, you’ve got some hinges to silence.”
Thaddeus smirked before turning away to sprint up the basement steps.
Chapter FOURTEEN
THE NEXT day was Friday, and Thaddeus caught a glimpse of Dixon in the hallway between his Spanish and chemistry classes but thankfully had no run-in with him. Andy tried to talk him into going out to lunch again, but Thaddeus declined. Without someone to eat with, Andy decided to eat in the cafeteria and moped as he followed Thaddeus through the line. They saw Marty and Crystal at the table at the far end of the cafeteria and joined them. Thaddeus sat with his back to the table where Dixon and his buddies ate so as to prevent any accidental eye contact that might be construed as a challenge. One suspension was enough for him.
“You guys going to the Spirit dance?” Marty asked.
“Spirit dance?” Thaddeus asked. “What’s that?”
“Trying to whip the student body up into a frenzy over football season,” Crystal said with an elaborate eye roll. “Lame Dance Part One, which leads to lame loser football team competitions, which leads to Homecoming, otherwise known as Lame Dance Part Two: Lame Times Two.”
They all snickered, and then Andy asked Thaddeus, “Were you thinking of going to the dance?”
“Me?” Thaddeus shrugged and looked down at his lunch. “Oh, no. Not really.”
“Not really?” Marty repeated. “That makes it sound like you’ve considered it.”
“No, not at all,” Thaddeus said. “I didn’t even know about the Spirit dance until you said something about it.”
“How could you not have known about it?” Crystal asked. “There are posters every ten feet and in every stupid stall in the bathrooms.”
“There are?” Thaddeus shrugged. “I haven’t seen any of that.”
“He’s been too busy running from Dixon,” Andy said with a snicker.
Thaddeus felt stung. “Hey, that’s not true. I haven’t run from him at all. I got suspended for fighting with him if you recall.”
“He’s got a point, Andy,” Crystal said. “Thaddeus doesn’t seem to back down from a confrontation.”
Memories flashed through his mind: He saw himself battling ghouls in the gymnasium of the Iron Gulch school and then facing Isadora on the hot springs plateau. A warm sense of pride buoyed Thaddeus’s spirits, and he had to keep from shouting, “Yeah! I fought mons
ters!”
Andy grunted and turned his attention back to his lunch.
“When is the Spirit dance?” Thaddeus asked.
“Next Friday,” Marty replied, then looked at Crystal. “Think the football team and cheerleaders will go to the Tangle like usual?”
“They do it every year,” Crystal said with a shrug. “I don’t see why not.”
“What?” Andy asked, jerking his head up from his study of his lunch. “What did you say?”
“What’s the Tangle?” Thaddeus asked.
Marty leaned in over the table and lowered his voice. “It’s this weird patch of woods between Superstition and Stoker’s Mill, about fifteen miles outside of town. Every year before football season starts, the varsity players take the junior varsity players out to the woods and make them try to get through it to the very center.”
“Supposedly the cheerleaders do the same thing,” Crystal added. “The pathetic senior bitches make the new cheers try to find the center.”
“Is it some kind of maze or something?” Thaddeus asked.
“I’ve never been out there,” Marty said. “But I’ve heard it’s this really heavy-duty stretch of woods.”
“Some kids were lost in there for, like, a couple of days one year,” Crystal said.
Marty nodded. “Yeah, it’s intense. Like some kind of deep forest, with a bunch of overgrown plants and trees. It’s like primordial jungle stuff in there.”
“How do you even know this if you’ve never been there?” Andy asked with a sharp edge to his tone.
“I talked to one of the JV footballers last year after he went through it,” Marty said.
Andy sneered. “You talked to a footballer?”
Marty shrugged. “Yeah. He sat next to me in biology. He’s a nice guy.”
“He make varsity this year?”
“I don’t know. I guess so, he was pretty good.”
Andy’s smile was cold. “Doesn’t he talk to you anymore?”
“Well, no, not really,” Marty said, stammering a bit. “But we don’t have any of the same classes anymore.”
Thaddeus felt sorry for Marty and decided to deflect Andy’s attention from him. “Has anyone ever found the center of the Tangle?”
“Not as far as anyone’s ever heard,” Marty said. “It’s been there for years too. As long as any kids here can remember.”