Squint

by Chad Morris

  McKell changed rhythms, longer, and slower. The strumming calmed. The video focused on McKell’s face. No drawings for this part.

  Maybe we all want to be—

  She drew out that last word and her strumming built louder.

  Then a burst of words, all rattled out in speed, but said so clearly—

  But sometimes I fall, mess up it all, feel broken, unspoken, how I’m dying inside, say I’m fine, but I’m lyin’, so scared, and unprepared. Can’t be me, they’ll all see, that I’m just not—

  The strumming calmed.

  Invincible.

  She repeated the word in a kind of soft but catchy chorus.

  I looked around. Everyone in the auditorium sat quietly watching. I don’t think they expected the song to be this good. The video to be this good.

  McKell loosened her grip on my arm. She must have realized that we weren’t bombing. Not even close.

  Her voice came in again and she tightened her grip. If she was this nervous watching herself, I was glad I hadn’t pushed her too far to perform in public.

  Maybe it’s time, draw a line, redefine what it means, invincible.

  After you stumble, or crumble and fall, you stand tall, that’s invincible.

  Try and try, and not hide it inside, so invincible.

  Show who you are, your beauty, your scars, that’s invincible.

  She did the same chorus again, louder and strong this time. Then my favorite part. Danny always challenged McKell to make sure that she included herself in her songs, her personality, her uniqueness. And I thought this was it.

  The camera closed in on the uke as she banged it twice. She strummed sharp while blurting out rhymes faster than I’d ever seen her do before. Almost like rapping, but with a melody.

  And I smile a while, this trial compiles, compounds around, but I rebound, this thing will never keep me down. Never keep me down.

  I share my heart, and start to shine, stand up for me, and see this time, make a friend, again, and hope it will never end. Never end.

  I watch a comedy, to remedy some blues, I choose to face a fear and with tears conquer through to cheers. I’m so glad to be right here.

  I look up, look out, speak up, speak out, I can sing, and bring, this voice of choice to everyone who’ll listen to my sound. I won’t be kept down.

  She sounded so strong. So good.

  I won’t be kept down.

  And I heard it off to my side as well. The real McKell was singing along.

  One more chorus of the word invincible.

  “I can’t just sit here,” McKell said, and got up to walk out of the auditorium. The song was ending and it was getting too much for her. Even though people seemed to like it, she was going to be sick again.

  The video faded as applause started. It grew louder and louder.

  I looked over to see McKell stopped in the doorway.

  The applause kept going. Like they really liked it. A few people whistled. It went on for a long time. That doesn’t happen very often with a junior high crowd.

  I joined in.

  And no one clapped louder or longer than me.

  I stood over the boiling pasta waiting for it to be done. Spaghetti isn’t that hard to make, but I was still hoping I wouldn’t mess it up.

  Everything was going perfect until Grandma walked in. She took one step into the kitchen and froze.

  “What are you doing in here?” I asked.

  “Do I need a reason to walk into my own kitchen?” she asked back. “Are you cooking?”

  “Grandpa,” I yelled. “You were supposed to keep her out of here.”

  He came in shrugging. “She doesn’t listen to me. You know that.”

  “You had one job,” I said to Grandpa.

  His beard bobbed as he chuckled.

  I turned to Grandma who was still looking confused. “I’m making lunch for us.” The water boiled over as if on cue. I gave a weak, “Surprise!” before turning down the stovetop and blowing on the foam coming over the pot.

  “Well ain’t you sweeter than molasses on sugarcane.” Grandma gave me a hug from behind.

  “I figured I owed you,” I said, and tried to hug her back, but it was awkward with her still behind me.

  “And don’t claim he’s sweet until after you’ve eaten it,” Grandpa said standing in the doorframe. “I don’t know about thirteen-year-olds cookin’.”

  Grandma and Grandpa Rule: If you’re lucky enough to have a grandpa and grandma you should probably love them. And probably do your chores every now and again. Not all the time. You don’t want to be perfect. And maybe you could even make them lunch. They might deserve it.

  Grandma and Grandpa Rule: Listening to football stories is still optional.

  After lunch I took off. Grandma had given me permission to cut a small bouquet of her spring flowers and I put them all in a bunch and tied them.

  I jumped on my bike but by the time I reached McKell’s house I was a windswept mess. Good ol’ Nebraska wind almost knocked me off my bike a few times and the flowers were a little sadder than when I left.

  My eye was healing up. It wasn’t perfect, but the drops were going to do their job. Unless something unexpected happened, my body was going to accept the cornea after all.

  Cars were lined up along the street just like before. Inside there were piles of shoes just like before.

  McKell took my flowers and led me into the main room, where the picture of Danny was sitting on a low table surrounded by family members on folding chairs, dining room chairs, and couches. The photo had more candles around it now, a plate of food, Danny’s Huskers hat, and some flowers. McKell put my flowers in water and put them with the others by the picture.

  “First prayers, then a song, then balloons, then food,” McKell said, prepping me for the evening’s events. “You don’t have to say the prayers if you don’t want to. You don’t have to do any of it if you don’t want to. But thank you for coming.”

  “Thanks for inviting me,” I said. McKell sat in the front with her parents, and I found myself a place in the back, allowing family to fill the closer seats. I had never heard anyone say prayers the way that they did. One person would speak and the others would respond in the same way—many times. I closed my eyes and listened to the almost-music of the repetition and smelled the candles and felt the warmth of so many bodies gathered to say farewell.

  McKell called this celebration “Fortieth-Day Prayer.” Forty days after his death. The day that Danny’s spirit went to heaven. It was a tradition from her father’s Filipino side of the family.

  After prayer a few family members got up to sing. Some songs were in English and some were not. The whole thing took a long time but it was nice, so I just listened. Her father then explained that they had balloons that they wanted to release. Everyone got up and went to the backyard. They had a large patio and even larger yard so people got their balloons and spread out.

  McKell brought me a big white balloon. Her eyes were red and puffy but her smile seemed sincere. “So in my family, we find a quiet place and say a few words to the one who passed away, then release the balloon with the idea that the balloon will carry our message to heaven. I know that you don’t know Danny that well but I figured you should get a balloon too.” She handed me the string and walked away to get her balloon and find her quiet place.

  I looked at the balloon as the wind whipped it around a bit. Say something to Danny, huh?

  “Danny Panganiban,” I started, and I was pretty proud that I could say his last name. “I know you don’t really know me. I’m Flint but you can call me Squint if you want.” I looked around to make sure that I wasn’t the only person talking to a balloon. I wasn’t.

  “I wanted to tell you thanks. Because of you and your challenges, I met your sister. You’d be proud of her. Beca
use of you she is braver . . . and happier. And I have a friend. And I really needed a . . .” I stopped. He could figure the rest out.

  “And because of your YouTube channel I saw that a person could be different, look different, have struggles, make mistakes, and still have so much to offer.” I sniffled. My darn nose was running. “I want to be like you.”

  I stood there for a minute. “Oh, and that whole eye business.” I took a deep breath. “I got a letter yesterday. It’s from the family of the person that gave me my eye.” I paused. “Turns out it wasn’t you.” I gave a sad laugh. “I really, really wanted it to be you. It was some guy on the other side of town who liked hockey and horses. Yeah, not really you at all,” I said.

  “But I still wanted to say that even though I don’t have your eye, in a lot of ways you still helped me to see.” I stood there for a moment longer. “Really see.”

  The wind stopped. Everything was still and quiet.

  I opened my hand and let the balloon float up into the sky.

  There was enough food set out to feed a small country. McKell introduced me to her tito and tita, and while we were talking, her dad got everyone’s attention.

  “Yellow just called,” Danny’s dad said. He took a second to explain who Yellow was for any family members who didn’t know. “He told me that he is about to post Danny’s last video, but he sent it to me so we can see it first.”

  Her dad synced his phone to the television in the family room. The screen was plenty big for all of us, and we all pulled up a seat or sat around the floor.

  McKell’s mom gave a small gasp when Danny’s face appeared on the screen for the last time.

  “Hello again,” Danny said with a little less of his usual Danny-energy than in his other videos.

  “This is my last video.” He gave a tired smile. “Aww, I know . . . I’m sad too.”

  He went back to his cheerful voice but it was a little slower than before. “But if it’s my last one then I’m going to make it count. You see, I have put my whole heart into this channel and I don’t want to see it die.” His smile dropped and he looked off camera. “Wait, I’m dying of heart disease, should I take that last part out?” You could see his eyes searching his own mind for an answer. “Nah, life is just ironic that way sometimes.” He went back to smiling at the camera. “Enjoy a bite of irony on me. Mmmm—tastes like iron.” He rubbed his belly then laughed.

  He looked off camera again. “I told you I wasn’t going to get through a video without joking around. I don’t think I know how. Oh well, back to being serious.” He said that last part like a news reporter would say, “This just in!”

  Then he took a deep breath and did just as he said he would. He got serious. “I have made so many friends through this channel. The emails that I have received from you let me know that you’ve made a lot of friends too. And it hurts me a little to see this channel die with me. That’s why I have asked Yellow to help me with something. And I’m going to ask you to help me as well.”

  I leaned in. I’d do it. Anything.

  “Help me keep ‘Danny’s Challenges’ alive. Post your own challenges and tag them with the hashtag #DannysChallenges. Yellow will search the internet every other week for some of the best challenges and then post them here for others to see and follow.”

  McKell’s dad gave a small whoop and clapped his hands a couple of times.

  “So hit me with your best challenge for spreading kindness. A challenge that promotes gratitude. A challenge that creates joy for life. A challenge that helps people relate to people. They don’t have to be complicated. Mine never were. Share a little piece of yourself, like I did, and let us get to know and love you.”

  He was right. Sharing little parts of himself made people love him. Even people like me, who never even met him.

  Maybe I could do that.

  Danny’s smile got extra big. “Because that’s what we’re doing, spreading the love.

  “And on that note I just wanted to leave one last message.

  “I love you.

  “I love you, Mom. I love you, Papa.

  “I love you, McKell.

  “I love you, family.

  “I love you, my friends.

  “I really do.”

  The Empress stood not much taller than Squint. She was only a few years older and wore a long silver dress. Her hair was long and silver too, nearly reaching the hard rocky ground of the island cliffs. She looked at Squint. “I see that you found out about me.”

  “What do you mean?” Squint asked. He had pulled off his cape and was looking to see how he might load everyone on. The magic flying cape was their only way from the island. They might not all fit. He may have to send them off the island two at a time. Hopefully they would escape before Gunn and the others woke up. He hoped they were knocked out for a while.

  “I do have magic,” the Empress said. “Powerful magic. But I didn’t give you everything.”

  Squint looked at his hands; they were still glowing.

  “The daggers,” she said. “They were just tools, the light was always there. I simply gave you a way to let a little out. I chose you as a Centurion because of your light.” She motioned where his patch had been. “It first came out where you had been weak. At times, it is our weaknesses that can make us better, let our light out.”

  Squint felt where his eye had been injured.

  She turned to Diamond. “It is similar with you. If you focus, you can fill the hole in your diamond shield.”

  Rock barked. “And was the magic always inside of me?”

  The Empress looked down, several strands of her silver hair falling over her large eyes. “No,” she said. “You’re just a bunch of rocks without me.”

  He barked again. “A little disappointing, but I can deal with it.”

  Squint looked back again to where they’d had their great battle and thought he saw some of his enemies stirring. “Let’s get you out of here,” he said to the Empress. “I’ll send you across with Diamond, then send the cape back for me. That’s assuming you don’t want to just make another.”

  “No,” the Empress said.

  “Okay,” Squint said. “Mine will have to do.”

  “No,” the Empress repeated. “I’m not leaving.”

  Both Diamond and Squint looked back in disbelief. “These Centurions,” the Empress said, “are not your true enemies.”

  “What?” Squint blurted out. “They abandoned me. Left me for dead. They kidnapped you and kept you captive.”

  “True and not true,” she said. “It was them, but not completely them.” Squint and Diamond looked at each other in disbelief and then down at Rock.

  “Don’t look at me,” Rock said. “I’m just a bunch of rocks.”

  “Tell me,” the Empress said. “Did you notice the dark scales forming on them?”

  “Yes,” Diamond said.

  “That is an ancient magic,” the Empress explained. “It found them and attached to them, like a virus. It fed off of them.”

  “It brings darkness,” Squint said. “I found a scroll that said as much.”

  “Yes,” the Empress said. “And slowly, very slowly, it began to control them, feeding off their hate, their fear, their jealousy. Adding to the darkness. And they were completely unaware, doing things they wouldn’t normally have done.”

  “That’s no excuse,” Squint said.

  “I think you’re right,” she said. “But did you notice your own neck and shoulders?” she asked, looking at his shoulder.

  What did that mean? Squint glanced down and found scales. On him. “What?” he said. “How did they get there?”

  “It fed off you. Your hate for those who wronged you,” she said. “It brought darkness. And when you follow it, darkness grows. You have to shed it. Get rid of it.”

  “How?” Sq
uint asked, looking at his own scales again.

  “I will leave that to you to figure out,” she said. “But now more darkness is coming. You all have made it strong.”

  She pointed out over the cliffs. A giant snake burst from the waves. It was the length of a wall around a large city and as thick as a castle. And it was covered in the same black scales.

  As Squint gazed at the huge beast, his eyes glowed and his hands were tinged with light. “Can we defeat it?” he asked.

  “We must face it,” the Empress said. She looked down as the enormous serpent slithered across the top of the sea toward them.

  Diamond covered herself in a completely impenetrable shield. Apparently, she had figured that out.

  “We may need help,” the Empress said. She reached out and touched Squint. His eyes blazed, he could feel the fire, the power. And then more.

  Was the Empress giving him a new power? Or was this related to his own light? He didn’t know, but he could see more. He could see farther. The serpent and beyond. And more. He could see through someone else’s eyes. And those eyes were looking at him.

  It was Diamond. He was looking through her eyes. And he could feel she knew it was worth it to side with him, to help the Empress. She was proud and strong. Yet scared. Scared to face another beast.

  Then more light and Squint saw through someone else’s eyes.

  Gunn was awakening and Squint could see the world as he regained his footing. He felt the pull of the scales. Anger. Fear. Competition. Pressure. Everyone looking to him. It all surged through him.

  Then Traz. The need to not back down. To show confidence. To not appear weak.

  Then Lash. Then Madame Cool.

  And then the Empress. Her eyes were different. Hers saw the good and the bad in everyone, yet tried to emphasize the good.

  Squint gasped as he came back to his own eyes and the Empress let go.

  “You must release your scales,” the Empress said. “Then maybe you can help them release theirs. And then maybe, we may stand a chance.”

  “Okay,” Squint said. “And I think it might be helpful to know how to blast light out of me. It was kind of a reaction last time.”