The Wicker King

by K. Ancrum

He’d figured it out when someone in class raised his hand and asked a stupid question. Peter responded by furrowing his brow in contempt. Roger didn’t usually care about that kind of stuff.

  August approached him immediately after class. “Where’s Roger?”

  Peter raised an eyebrow and looked very amused. “I think you’re beginning to know us a bit too well. Roger is at home. They’re doing drug tests today and he thinks he won’t pass, so I’m taking his for him.” Peter tightened his backpack straps. “I don’t have to say ‘don’t tell anyone.’ I think we have an understanding.”

  August rolled his eyes at the threat. “Yeah. Whatever. I was just wondering what was going on, not trying out a new career as a freelance super sleuth. Anyway, I want to hang out with him later. Do you think he’d be up for that?”

  Peter shrugged. “Yeah. Probably. He likes you, too, you know. Just don’t mess up our house, and everything will be fine.” Peter tossed Roger’s backpack over his shoulder and walked away.

  PERSPECTIVE

  Gordie caught up with him as he walked to the bus stop. “Hey. Hey. Who are you going to Homecoming with?”

  “Homecoming?” August narrowed his eyes. Was it already Homecoming time?

  Gordie looked annoyed. “There have been posters up about it all week. We’re supposed to vote king and queen next Friday. Who are you going with?”

  August hadn’t even noticed. There were just way too many more important things to deal with than worrying about a dance. Jack’s mysterious visions, for one. His mom not finding out he was habitually breaking into a building just for shits and giggles was another. And he was pretty sure he was getting a D in history.

  “I don’t think I’m go—” August started.

  “Go with me,” she said, her cheeks flushed like a summer peach. “Go with me.”

  MARIO KART

  “So, I’m going to Homecoming with Gordie. She ambushed me on my way here.” He tossed his backpack onto the floor of Roger’s room. “Who are you going with? Peter?” August joked.

  Roger didn’t smile. He just kind of shrugged and turned on his PlayStation.

  “Really?” August said incredulously.

  “Who else?” Roger said, like it wasn’t weird at all.

  “You could try going with a girl,” August said wryly, sitting down in front of the TV. He bent his legs, tucking into a ball as best he could, then picked up a controller.

  “I don’t like any of the girls at our school, except Gordie, and I can’t just walk up to a random girl and ask her.” Roger shrugged. “Besides, what’s so bad about going with Peter? I go with him everywhere anyway.”

  “Yeah. Actually, that’s weird, too. Don’t twins usually try really hard to be different? Because you guys are doing a bad job of that.”

  Roger tilted his head to the side and gazed at August quizzically. “Well, no. We were once the same person and we just decided we liked it that way. It’s not weird. It’s just … unusual. And even then, just because it’s unusual doesn’t automatically make it bad. You of all people should understand that.”

  Then Roger stopped talking and pressed Play.

  THE SPROUT AND THE BEAN

  They left school and went back to Jack’s. No one was home. No one was ever home.

  They broke into his father’s liquor cabinet, stole some scotch, and went up to sit on the roof.

  “There’s patches of forest covering the street,” Jack said.

  “Really?”

  “Yeah, the second sun keeps things pretty bright here,” Jack said mildly.

  “The second WHAT?”

  Jack gazed at August dryly. “It’s easy to pretend it’s not there. I mean, do you stare at the sun at all hours of the day?”

  August scuffed his heel against the roof. “Point taken,” he mumbled.

  “On that note, though, I think I’ve been doing a pretty good job of pretending that all of this isn’t happening,” Jack replied.

  “I know,” August said. “Is it too hard?”

  Jack grimaced and drank.

  “You could always just … stop. Pretending, I mean,” August said quietly. “Well, obviously not at school, but when it’s just us … us and Rina?”

  “What good would that do?” Jack gazed out at the setting sun. “And I don’t want to drag Rina into this. It’s fucked up.”

  “Yeah. It is fucked up.”

  SEVEN

  Things changed after that.

  Jack told August what he saw now, without prompting. There were people, animals, and objects in his world, and he was really good at describing them. Apparently, it was interactive, too, which was kind of cool.

  In fact, the whole thing was pretty cool if you didn’t think about it at all, which August was now 100 percent all right with.

  Jack would pet cats that weren’t there, wave at people clear as glass. He didn’t care anymore. School was only seven hours long, nine on game days. Outside of school, it was easy to give zero fucks. And he had hours every day to do so.

  August thought it was fun, but it was that kind of fun that felt urgent. Like they had to get it out all at once before something awful brought that fun to an abrupt halt.

  But he didn’t mention that to Jack.

  He just let him chase invisible butterflies by the light of a second invisible sun.

  FIELD TRIP

  Alex was trying to drag everyone to the next town over because they were having some sort of science observatory fair. The only way she’d convinced Gordie to go was because there was a really great bar with a dartboard nearby that let in underage kids. The only reason August was going was so he could stock up on cigarettes. The twins just sort of silently hopped into the back of Jack’s car like Jack wasn’t glaring at them venomously.

  Of course, then the car was way too full. Jack and August sat in front, Alex and the twins sat in the back, and Gordie lay across their laps with her knees curled over Roger’s arm and her head on Alex’s giant notebook.

  “Why can’t I be in the front?” Alex whined.

  Jack didn’t even dignify that with a response. He had been roped into this because he was the only one with a car.

  It wasn’t a terribly far drive—even if it was starting to snow. They crossed the few giant hills that separated their towns and parked on the street in a residential area. As soon as the car came to a complete stop, Alex threw the back door open. Gordie tumbled out and headed straight for the bar without even asking if anyone wanted to come with her. Alex and the twins rustled their school stuff together, pulled out a map, and headed off to the science fair. Only Alex remembered to say thank you for the ride.

  Jack and August sat in silence for a bit. It was still warm inside the car, and neither of them really felt like getting out.

  “What do you see out here?”

  Jack leaned his head against the back of the seat, lifting his sharp chin a half inch and closing his eyes. He smiled even though he looked a bit tired. “Nothing really, yet.”

  “Where do you want to go?”

  “I don’t know. Let’s just walk around for a bit.”

  RINK

  For the first time in months, things were actually really relaxed.

  It was cold outside, but August’s mom had knitted both of them some really nice mittens a couple of years before and they were still holding up fine. They went to pick up August’s cigarettes first from that dinky corner store that sold to minors, then they backtracked through the town to the ice rink to smoke and watch people skate.

  “Should we get something to eat?”

  “Huh?” Jack laughed. “I feel like I’m on a date.”

  “It’s the stupid snow.” August scowled. “Without all the trees, it looks kind of like it does in movies.”

  They both looked up at the sky.

  “Would it be too cliché for us to have a snowball fight?” August asked, grinning.

  “I would rather die than let you get the seats of my car wet,” Jack replied dry
ly.

  “Fine, fine. Wanna go check up on Gordie? I’m pretty sure they serve food at bars.”

  Jack shrugged and August took it as a yes.

  RIOT

  Gordie was dancing on a table surrounded by bikers. August and Jack stood in the doorway staring in horror until someone yelled at them to close it behind them.

  Everyone inside the bar looked terrifying. There was so much leather everywhere. August grabbed Jack’s arm, dragged him inside, and sat him down on a stool at the bar.

  “Is the kitchen still open?”

  “No. And I wouldn’t sit there if I were you. That’s the Hound’s seat.”

  The bartender looked at him like he was supposed to know why that was important.

  “Who is the Hound?” August asked.

  The bartender pointed across the room at the hulking man standing at the edge of the table that Gordie was dancing on. He looked like a bloodthirsty Hagrid.

  “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” Jack gasped.

  “Well. It looks like it’s time to go back home. I’ll make us some soup when we get there,” August said. He marched across the bar, pushing his way through the sea of men until he got to the table. He nudged the Hound aside rudely. “Gordie.”

  Gordie turned around and stuck her tongue out at him. She was absolutely plastered.

  “Did you touch me?” the Hound growled dangerously.

  August ignored him and climbed up on the table. “We’re going home, Jack’s terrified, and I need to make dinner. Can you walk?”

  Gordie burped in his face. “Probably not.”

  The entire bar was shouting at him to get down from the table. August grimaced, then grabbed Gordie and swung her over his shoulders in a fireman’s carry and hopped down. The Hound pushed him roughly and they nearly fell.

  “I said, did you touch me?”

  “Well, if you had to ask the answer is probably yes.” August was at maximum capacity of giving no fucks. “She’s seventeen. She’s not even supposed to be here. So can I just get her home, for fuck’s sake? What if she was your kid?”

  The Hound roared and smashed his bottle on the edge of the table. The entire bar went silent.

  “Oh. Um. Wow. Okay. Sorry. I’m really sorry, sir.” August glanced over at Jack, panicked.

  Jack shrugged.

  “I’m just trying to get her home, okay?” August explained as the Hound sat back down, still glowering dangerously. “We have three other kids to pick up, I doubt anyone has gotten properly fed, and it’s getting late.…”

  “You’re like a weird young dad,” one of the bikers nearby commented, squinting at August curiously.

  August winced. “Come on, Jack. We’re going home.”

  Jack hopped off the stool and followed him out the door.

  BLUE

  After they’d rounded up Alex and the twins, they went to August’s house and played Monopoly on the dining room table as he made a big pot of tomato soup and some Texas toast.

  His mom didn’t come upstairs even once to figure out who was making all that noise. August went to the basement anyway to serve her dinner and let her know what was going on.

  It was hard sometimes. But having a mom like his really came in handy if you had short-notice plans. August never had to get permission for anything, and he could pretty much do what he wanted.

  He pulled all the blankets out of the hall closet and made a giant pillow-and-blanket nest on the floor of the living room for everyone to sleep on. He fell asleep with Gordie curled around him on one side and Jack’s head nestled on his stomach.

  No one said anything about it when they got up the next morning.

  FREE

  “I think it’s trying to communicate with me,” Jack said suddenly, breaking the silence of their corner of the library.

  “What do you mean?”

  Jack turned over to look at him, resting his head lazily against the wall. “Remember a couple days ago when you said that thing about me being lucky that I could see these things? The way you said it got me thinking. What if you’re right and everything I see is all real? Like, what if—stop smiling, August. Oh my God, don’t make fun of me. I’m not kidding.”

  August just shook his head, but he managed to stop grinning, so Jack continued.

  “Like, what if this is an alternate dimension that my perception is filtering through? Like it’s a place that exists, but its existence is layered over this one. Like, it’s real, but not. What do you think?”

  August chewed his lip for a while, thinking. It was a weird suggestion. But it would be better to explore it and be wrong than dismiss it and wish he hadn’t.

  “Well … normally, I would say you sound like you’re going batshit. But I’m pretty sure we’re already there.”

  Jack snorted. “Whatever.”

  HONESTLY

  Honestly, it made a bit of sense. Perception is relative. So is sanity, if you think about it. It’s totally a Minority vs. Majority thing. If you fall on one side of the line, take a ticket and proceed. If you fall on the other, shit gets real.

  But anyway, this idea of Jack’s sounded fun to explore. It would be interesting to follow this world to its limits. Check the boundaries a bit. August bought a notebook so he could write down and draw what Jack saw so they could chart changes and inconsistencies.

  He’d long since returned the DSM-IV to the twins, but he really wished he could get it back. Or maybe talk to someone about this. Just to check if he was on the right track with what he thought Jack had. Or to find out if letting Jack give in to all of this was dangerous.

  Thank fuck for Wikipedia, Google, and WebMD.

  STEP UP YOUR GAME

  “Everything is ever so slightly more vivid. Or maybe what’s real is just duller. I don’t know. It’s like a photo filter. Also, not much of it is exclusively focused on me. It’s just there, relating independently with our world…” Jack rubbed his knee nervously. “Or with things outside of the picture that I don’t have access to yet. The whole thing is limited to visuals, too. Like, I can see things and touch them, but I can’t smell, hear, or taste anything. Sometimes people try to talk to me, but I can’t hear them. They always look annoyed about it and are weirdly urgent about getting me to understand.”

  August was transcribing everything Jack said into the notebook. “What do they look like?”

  Jack scrunched up his nose as he thought about it. “I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. Weird historical clothes? Masks? They’re filthy like everyone was in the past. Honestly, it’s a bit like I’m walking through one of those towns where they make everything old-timey for tourists to come and visit.”

  “That sounds … you have to be more specific.” August jabbed Jack in the side with his pencil until Jack smacked it out of his hand.

  “You know what? Fine. I’ll just riffle through some cultural encyclopedias or something. It’s not like I’m already having a bad time. Now I’m seeing shit and I have stupid homework about it.” Jack threw his arms up in exasperation and turned away.

  THE NOTEBOOK

  They spent about a week on the notebook. August wasn’t an amazing artist, but really, that wasn’t the point. The point was to be able to reference things Jack saw. So he drew everything haphazardly in colored pencil. It was frightening how broad a selection of objects and people were present in Jack’s world but missing from August’s.

  There were six people who appeared regularly. Two of the six tried to talk to Jack: a girl and some small child. The other four people just came and went randomly. There were also various animals—half of which were completely unidentifiable and very difficult to describe.

  But what Jack liked the most, and what August found most interesting, were the objects. All of them were kind of old-looking, according to Jack, and he kept finding similar versions of them in the school encyclopedia, which really freaked out August.

  Jack had begun collecting odds and ends from his world in the corner of his room. He put tape
around the area so August wouldn’t stumble over the pile or break anything.

  It didn’t seem like August could interact with anything, but they didn’t want to test that theory just yet.

  LUNCH

  “I didn’t know you had a tattoo.” Gordie flicked at the back of his neck annoyingly. “Where’d you get it?”

  “Jack did it a couple months ago.” August flipped up his collar so it was out of sight.

  “You let someone who isn’t a licensed professional stab you multiple times instead of just going to the next town over and getting it done by someone who actually knows what they’re doing?” Alex looked horrified.

  August shrugged. He could feel his ears getting hot.

  “Did you guys do buddy tattoos? Does he have one, too?” Gordie pried, pulling at August’s collar. He smacked her hand away and scowled.

  “I just wanted it and Jack was there so he did it for me. It’s not a big deal.”

  “It’s just seems kind of unsanitary. And reckless,” Alex said, pointing her plastic spork at August accusatorily.

  “Uncharacteristically reckless.” Gordie narrowed her eyes suspiciously.

  “He’s a drug dealer, Gordie. I’m sure that recklessness is a part of the job description. And stop bothering him before he gets so red his face bursts into flames.”

  They laughed as August silently thanked all the gods listening for Alex.

  “Do you think Jack would do me one, too?” Gordie asked. “I tried to get one done at a shop, but I’m not eighteen yet so they kicked me out…”

  August thought about Gordie lying under Jack. Imagined her replicating that tense silence that sometimes made his heart race if he thought about it for too long. He didn’t like it.

  “No. He wouldn’t.”

  GLASS SHOES

  Carrie-Anne had dragged Jack away to go shopping for matching Homecoming crap, so August found himself alone on a Saturday. He took the bus out to the end of the city to visit Rina alone. She looked surprised when she opened the door, but let him in anyway.