Red Shirt Kids

by Bryce Clark

They all stood on the driveway, staring up at their enormous new home illuminated by two hulking porch lights. David walked up the wooden stairs and slid a key into the lock. The door opened with a puff of dust and a creak. Everyone fell in line behind David as he entered.

  The family entered the spacious foyer and looked around. A den was off to the right, and a long hallway extended toward the back of the house. A massive spiral staircase led up to the second and third floors. A bulky chandelier with sparkling lights came to life as David flipped the light switch on the wall.

  Mike looked up and saw a skylight at the top of the staircase. Moonlight filtered through the glass, refracting the light into distinct rays that danced upon the carpeted floor. “Cool,” was his assessment. A grandfather clock sat to the right, and tasteful carpets, benches, paintings, and plants were placed in their optimal decorative locations. Amy jumped as the grandfather clock suddenly chimed ten o’clock.

  “Well, let’s get up to our rooms. The furniture in those rooms has already been moved in,” said Laura, heading for the stairs.

  The door creaked open to a darkened bedroom. Mike slipped inside and flipped on the lights. An array of new, unfamiliar furniture filled the room. There was a bunk bed—but instead of a lower bunk, there was a desk and chair with bookshelves. On the wall were Celtics and Red Sox posters. A computer sat on the desk.

  Laura peeked in. “Do you like it?” Mike nodded and picked up his baseball glove, which rested on top of a dark dresser. “It’s okay,” he said.

  “Okay? That’s it?” asked Laura, disappointed.

  “Yeah, this stuff is cool. But this isn’t my room.”

  “Your father and I tried to make this just like your room at home—I mean, back in Boston. Oh, Mikey, it’s going to take some time to adjust, but I want you to know we made this move for you and Amy.” Laura put an arm around Mike.

  “Really?” Mike doubted that was true. His parents hadn’t even asked him if he wanted to move. They just announced it. Adults could just do whatever they wanted. Mike couldn’t wait for that.

  “Yes. Now look, we’ll get the rest of the furniture set up tomorrow, and you can explore the backyard. It really is quite big.”

  “I know. I came here before, remember?”

  “Yes. But now it’s yours.” Laura tousled his hair. “Get some sleep. We have a long weekend ahead of us, moving in, and then school starts Monday.”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “It’s a great school, Michael, and you’ll make lots of friends.”

  “We’ll see,” Mike said as Laura left, closing the door to a crack. Mike ran his hand over the wall by the door. It was pristine white and completely smooth. Mike looked around and saw a pencil on his desk. He picked it up and made a small mark on the wall. “Now it’s mine,” he said.

  03

  MIKE LAID ON the top bunk; moonlight peeked in through the curtains. His hands were behind his head, and his eyes were closed. His door creaked open, and Amy tiptoed inside. “Mike,” she whispered.

  Mike’s eyes opened, and he shot up in bed. “What!”

  Amy stifled a laugh. “Wow, you scare really easily. Come on, I want to show you something.”

  Mike rubbed his eyes, swung his legs over the side off the bed, and dropped to the floor. He followed Amy into the hallway.

  They headed toward the staircase, which led to the third floor. Amy wore a white nightgown, and Michael had on a Red Sox T-shirt and boxer shorts. They climbed the spiral staircase, Amy lighting the way with a pen flashlight. “Check it out,” said Amy, pointing to the right. There was a door in the ceiling with a cord hanging down.

  “This is what you wanted to show me? Oh, wow, it’s amazing,” droned Mike. “Why’d you wake me up? It took me forever to fall asleep.”

  Amy ignored the remark. “Do you even know what it is?”

  “Yeah, it looks like a door in the ceiling. So what?”

  “Watch this.” Amy grabbed the cord and pulled down some folding stairs.

  “Okay, that is pretty cool. What’s up there?” asked Mike.

  “That’s why we’re going, stupid.”

  “I am not stupid!” exclaimed Mike, raising his voice.

  “Shhh. Quiet down. I’m sorry, I forgot you’re a genius. Come on. Don’t be a wuss.” Amy started up the stairs, and Mike followed behind.

  Emerging from the well of stairs into the attic, Amy saw that the attic ceiling was sloped on either side. There was a path down the center of the floor surrounded by piles of ancient items stacked high. Moonlight glittered through two small windows on opposite ends, making the room almost bright.

  Amy moved the flashlight over the room as Mike joined her on the top step. They moved slowly past old chairs, a sofa, a broken mirror, dusty books, old records, rolled carpets, and odd shapes draped with sheets. Amy pulled back a sheet revealing an antique writing desk; another sheet exposed a love seat. Amy continued her search, pulling sheets off of really old stuff. Dust flew everywhere. Amy coughed, waving her hands in front of her face to clear the air.

  Mike started to yank the white linen sheets, as well. An old record player held little interest for him, and he wasn’t thrilled to find a wheelchair. But then he pulled back a third sheet, and his eyes widened with excitement. “Cool.”

  “What is it?” Amy walked over from across the room, and they looked down on a huge oak chest with a thick gold padlock on it.

  Amy shined her light on the lock, which was in the shape of a shield flanked by crossed swords. On the shield were intricate engravings. On the upper left side was the Scottish flag, the Cross of St. Andrew against a shaded background. On the upper right was the Royal Scottish flag, a shaded etching of the Rampant Lion. Taking up the bulk of the shield was a lion’s head in a roar. The key, if they had it, would fit in the lion’s mouth.

  “What is that stuff?” wondered Mike aloud.

  “Like some European flag or something,” said Amy.

  “How do you know?”

  “I’ve seen it in a book, I guess.”

  “The lion’s head is cool.”

  “Yeah, I guess it’s pretty cool.”

  Mike tried to open the heavy lock. He pulled hard, but it wouldn’t budge. The lock clanged against the side of the chest as Mike let go. “Did you see a key anywhere?”

  They searched, lifting sheets, opening other chests and cabinets, and looking under cushions and antiques, but they didn’t find one single key.

  “Whoever heard of a lock without a key? Whose stuff is this, anyway?” asked Mike.

  “Gee, I wonder. I’m guessing it’s whoever lived here before us, don’t ya think?” Amy’s comment was laced with sarcasm. Mike pretended not to notice.

  “Yeah. I guess that makes sense.”

  Amy rolled her eyes. “I’m glad you agree. Come on, we can look this stuff over tomorrow.” They climbed back down the stairs and folded them up, accordion style, back into the ceiling.

  Mike lay in bed with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. He couldn’t stop thinking about the antique chest and what could possibly be inside. He made a promise to himself that he would find out.

  04

  MIKE WOKE UP to a loud knock at the front door. The knock echoed through the foyer, and the sound floated to his room. He jumped out of bed, flew down the stairs, and barely beat Amy to the front door. Mike threw open the door. Standing on the doorstep were a woman his mom’s age and a chunky eleven-year-old. The boy wore red shorts and a blue T-shirt. He stood shyly behind his mother.

  “Hello,” said Laura, joining Mike and Amy at the door.

  The woman carried a stack of fliers. “Hi! I’m Kathy Mayfield, and this is my son, Sam.”

  Laura turned to Mike and Amy. “These are my kids, Mike and Amy. I’m Laura.”

  Sam waved halfheartedly. Mike thought Sam looked like he might be pretty shy, so he waved back at him.

  “Hey,” said Mike.

  “Hey,” said Sam.


  But Sam’s focus was completely on Amy. He couldn’t take his eyes off her. Mike rolled his eyes.

  “Hi Sam,” Laura smiled.

  “We just wanted to come by and give you a real ‘welcome to the neighborhood’ greeting,” Kathy said as her eyes scanned the interior of the house. “I love what you’ve done with the house.”

  “Thank you,” replied Laura.

  “You know, Mike,” said Kathy, looking down at Mike. “Sam’s father grew up in this house.”

  “Really?” asked Mike.

  “Right, of course. Mayfield—I knew I recognized that name. The woman we bought the house from was a Mayfield,” said Amy.

  “I knew that too,” said Mike.

  “Whatever,” Amy replied.

  “Hey guys, come on,” Laura chided.

  “Yes, well, Sam’s grandma is who you bought the house from,” said Kathy.

  Mike nodded. He’d noticed that Kathy didn’t refer to Sam’s father as her husband, or his grandmother as her mother-in-law. Strange, he thought. But he quickly forgot it; he couldn’t understand adults, anyway. Then Mike remembered the chest they found the night before. “Hey, is that her stuff up in the attic?”

  Kathy’s smile faltered. “What stuff is in the attic?”

  “You’ve been in the attic?” asked Laura.

  “What’s the big deal? We went up there last night. There’s a lot of cool old stuff,” Mike stated.

  Sam touched his hand to his chest. “Really? Like wha—” Kathy put a hand on Sam’s shoulder before he could finish talking.

  “Oh, I’m sure it’s just some old junk. I wouldn’t worry about it,” said Kathy.

  “We should give the stuff back to you,” said Laura.

  “No!” Kathy exclaimed a bit too forcefully. Mike and Amy looked up at her in confusion.

  Kathy shook her head. “What I mean is, we just wanted to drop this by.” She handed Laura a dark blue flyer. “Someone’s been stealing lights all over town,” Kathy said, quickly changing the subject.

  “What?” asked Amy. “Why would someone want to steal the town’s lights?”

  “Maybe they ran out of light bulbs,” said Mike.

  Amy rolled her eyes at Mike. “Seriously?”

  “What? It’s possible,” said Mike.

  “I’m pretty sure they could buy light bulbs at the store,” said Amy, challenging Mike’s thought process.

  Laura sighed. “Kids, please don’t argue in front of our new friends.”

  “Oh, that’s okay,” said Kathy. “I’m sure Sam would bicker if he had a sister.”

  “What if they want the town to be covered in darkness?” offered Sam softly.

  Everyone fell silent and looked at Sam. He continued, “You know, whoever is taking the lights. What if they just want it to be totally dark? So they could do bad stuff.”

  Kathy put a hand on Sam’s head. “Well, whoever it is, he’s stealing it all—street lights, neon signs, everything. He got our porch lights last week.”

  “That’s crazy,” said Laura. “Are you sure you don’t want to come in?”

  “Oh, no, no, we’ve gotta run. So nice to meet you,” said Kathy, taking a few steps backwards. “And don’t worry about that stuff in the attic.”

  “Oh, okay, and thanks,” said Laura.

  Mike grabbed the flyer from his mom and looked down at it. It read, “WHO IS STEALING OUR LIGHTS?” Well, at least this town is interesting, he thought. Plus, there’s still the mystery of the chest in the attic. Mike felt happy for the first time in weeks.

  05

  ON MONDAY MORNING, the front of Falton Junior High School was crammed with cars, station wagons, and SUVs as parents dropped their kids off for the first day of school.

  Laura guided the Volvo to the front curb. Amy and Mike unbuckled their seatbelts and scampered out of the SUV. “I’ll be here at three sharp, okay?” said Laura.

  “Yeah, Mom, don’t worry,” said Amy.

  Mike nodded, and they took off for the front door. Mike wore chinos, a grey Polo shirt, and white Keds, while Amy wore her usual school clothing: khaki pants and a scooped-neck T-shirt.

  Mike found a seat in the back of his sixth-grade classroom and looked at the other seventeen kids and the assortment of math, science, and history posters on the wall.

  Sitting at the desk next to his was Ben Daniels. Ben was clearly older than the other kids. He wore jeans with grease stains and a ratty T-shirt. Ben was staring at Mike, and it made Mike uncomfortable. He tried to avoid eye contact.

  “Hey,” said Ben. Mike finally looked at him. “Your shoes suck,” Ben sneered.

  Mike looked down at his Keds as if checking them out for the first time. Did they really suck? They seemed all right to him. But he remained silent.

  A three-toned bell rang out, and the distinct clicking noise of a school intercom system diverted Mike’s attention away from Ben.

  A deep voice came over the intercom. “Good morning, students. This is Principal Garber. On behalf of the entire staff here at Falton Junior High School, we welcome you back for the new school year. Sadly, today we must take a few moments of silence in honor of Diane and Darren Miller, who are still missing. We also want to remind you to always have a buddy with you. Your teachers will be instructing you further on our new buddy system. And now, please, a moment of silence.”

  Mike looked around, curious about this newfound information. Who were these kids that had gone missing? The other kids in the room hung their heads in reverence. Even Ben. Mike lowered his head too. His mind raced with all of the possibilities of kids going missing. Have they been kidnapped? he wondered. He hoped they were all right and that they would be found. But Mike was starting to think there was something strange about his new town. Missing lights? Missing kids? And what was in that spooky old chest?

  Amy sat in the front row of her seventh-grade class. The boys and girls, ages twelve and thirteen, looked up as the moment of silence ended. Amy wondered about Diane and Darren Miller and what had happened to them. She said a silent prayer that they would come home safely.

  Sitting in the desk next to Amy was a thirteen-year-old girl with pigtails, named Shauna Greene. Shauna leaned closer to Amy. “Is your house haunted?” she asked.

  Amy stifled a laugh. Was this girl serious? Amy mustered the necessary level of sarcasm in her reply. “Uh, I haven’t seen any ghosts.”

  Shauna leaned back. “Oh, good. That’s good.”

  Amy wondered what the girl was talking about. Haunted? Was it some kind of new-girl-in-school hazing thing? She tried to put it out of her mind, and her thoughts turned back to Diane and Darren Miller. But like Mike, she was starting to think Falton, New Hampshire, was a strange place indeed.

  06

  MIKE STOOD ON the sidelines during gym class, dressed in grey athletic shorts and a blue T-shirt with “Falton Junior High” written on it. Boys and girls, all of them in the same grey shorts and blue T-shirt combo, were gathered to play basketball. Most of the boys wrestled each other for the ball, only to turn around and pelt the closest player with it. The goal of the game seemed to be inflicting pain on others. Most of the girls sat on the first row of the bleachers, gossiping and looking at a copy of People Magazine.

  An elderly man, Coach Heller, sat in a folding chair reading a newspaper. He paid little attention to the game but looked up as Ben Daniels made a layup. Coach Heller looked up and whistled. “Two!” he shouted, holding two fingers in the air to reinforce the point.

  Some of the less athletic boys stood on the sidelines near Mike. Mike looked over and noticed Sam Mayfield, whom he’d met at his new house the other day. Sam kept pulling his shorts up and trying to stretch his T-shirt over his belly. Mike smiled as Sam looked over at him. Sam waved, and Mike took a step closer.

  “Hey,” said Sam.

  Mike nodded. “Hey.”

  “I like to shoot,” said Sam.

  Mike shot Sam a sideways glance. “Huh?”

  “The basketbal
l. I like to shoot it. They never pass to me, though.”

  “Oh, right,” said Mike.

  “Do you like to play?” asked Sam.

  Mike shrugged. “It’s all right.”

  “Yeah. You look like you might be athletic.”

  Mike shrugged again. “Not really.” Mike wasn’t very athletic, but he liked the fact that Sam thought he might be.

  “I’ll play if you play,” said Mike.

  Sam looked out over the game, which had just degenerated into a dogpile for the ball. “Yeah, okay.”

  Sam and Mike slowly made their way onto the court.

  Amy bit into a slice of pizza as she took in the chaos of seventh-grade lunch echoing in the large cafeteria. A girl named Shauna sat across the table from Amy, eating a tuna sandwich.

  “The lady who lived there? She was wicked rich. Her maiden name is Falton, you know? Like our town name. She’s my great, great aunt or something,” said Shauna.

  “What?” asked Amy.

  “Her family started this town.”

  “Okay.”

  “And she went crazy. And they put her in a hospital.”

  “We know.”

  “Did you know that she saw ghosts?”

  “I’m guessing that’s how they knew she was crazy.”

  “Oh. Wow, that makes sense. But is the house freaky?” Shauna’s eyes were bulging with excitement.

  “Nope. Hey listen, do you know anything about those kids who are missing?”

  Shauna paused, now serious. “Yes,” she whispered.

  “So, what happened?”

  “I was at the carnival that night. That’s where they went missing. Their parents came and couldn’t find them. I guess they dropped them off or something. My dad took me to the carnival with him. I really liked the Tilt-a—”

  “Shauna, the missing kids?” prodded Amy, trying to get Shauna back on point.

  “Right. So anyway, their parents came and were like yelling their names all over—’Diane,’ ‘Darren,’ like that—and my dad heard them. He knows them ‘cause he fixed their car or something. And like a lot of parents came over and they started searching. They looked all over, and then the police started to help and a lot more of them came with huge flashlights and a couple of dogs, and they even went into the woods. They made all of us line up on one edge of the park, and they searched us and asked us questions, and then they told us to go home. They didn’t find them.”