Red Shirt Kids

by Bryce Clark

  Amy stared at Shauna for a moment. “Do they think someone kidnapped them?”

  “I heard my mom and dad talking, and they think that is what happened. Now I can’t even walk home from school this year. My mom’s going to pick me up in her dorky station wagon.”

  “That must be awful,” said Amy.

  “It is. It has wood paneling.”

  “No, I mean about Diane and Darren. Can you imagine how scary that would be?” asked Amy.

  Shauna thought about this then shook her head and took a bite of sandwich. But Amy could imagine it, and it scared and frightened her. She shuddered.

  Mike and Sam had joined the game of push, grab, shove, and a little basketball. The kids ran around grouped together like a herd of sheep, all of them following the basketball wherever it bounced. Mike ran with the herd, jabbing at the ball and stumbling over intertwined legs and feet. Sam hung out just over half court, about twenty feet from the basket, his eyes following the ball closely.

  Ben Daniels poked the ball away from another kid, and it bounced over to Sam. Sam scooped up the ball, turned to face the basket, and launched the ball with a two-hand set shot. The ball sailed through the air and made a crisp swoosh sound as it plummeted through the net.

  “All right, Sam!” yelled Mike. Mike ran over and gave Sam a highfive.

  Coach Heller was so astounded, he lowered his newspaper. “Now wait a minute. Wait just a minute.” Coach Heller tossed the paper aside and stood quickly. “The kid can shoot. I’ll be … Hold on there, fellas.” Coach Heller walked slowly onto the court. The boys eyed him with suspicion. Up until this moment, Coach Heller had never shown an interest in any game they had played during gym class. In fact, it was school legend that Coach Heller was secretly dead.

  The girls also took note, looking up from People Magazine long enough to see what the fuss was about. As Sam basked in the attention, Ben glared at him, jealousy oozing out of his pores.

  Coach Heller stood near Sam. “You’re a good twenty feet back, big guy—I mean, Sam. You shoot much?”

  Sam shrugged. “I guess.”

  Coach turned to Ben, who had picked up the basketball. “Daniels, toss the ball to Sam.”

  Ben smiled wickedly as he rifled the ball at Sam, the ball making a dull thud as it slapped into Sam’s gut. Sam doubled over in pain. Mike glared at Ben. He hated bullies. He wished he were bigger. Then he could march over there and teach this Ben kid a lesson.

  Coach Heller winced. “Ouch. Okay, okay, let her fly, Sammy boy.” Heller moved back as Sam recovered from the stomach blow and lined up his shot. He let the ball fly, and it went in again. Coach Heller danced a little jig. “Boy can shoot!”

  Ben sneered at Sam. “Yeah, too bad you’re wicked fat.” The other kids laughed as Sam stared at his shoes.

  Mike walked over to Sam. “Don’t let him get to you.” Mike put out his fist for a bump. Sam looked down at Mike’s fist and made one of his own. Mike smiled—he’d made his first friend in his new town. Coach Heller waddled back to his chair, waving his hands in a “get on with it” motion. Heller grabbed his paper, resumed his regular position, and the game went on.

  Mike rejoined the herd, and Sam stood still at his spot. The ball was batted around as the boys wrestled for the ball, not really understanding the rules of the game. Mike poked the ball away with one hand and grabbed it with the other. He turned to Sam.

  “Sam!” Mike shouted and tossed the ball to Sam, who knew exactly what to do with it. He turned to the basket, lined up his shot, and was immediately slammed into the floor by Ben as he shot the ball. The ball sailed wide of the rim.

  Sam went down like a bag of sand, landing hard on his backside. Ben stood over him. “Looks like you missed.” Ben laughed and ran back to join the game.

  Mike took a step toward Ben, and Ben looked him over. “Seriously? Back off, shrimp,” he sneered.

  Mike bit down on his anger, ran over to Sam, and leaned over him. “Are you all right?”

  Sam moaned. “I think so.”

  Mike leaned down further, extending his hand to help Sam up. Mike froze, his eyes widening as he noticed a gold medallion on a gold chain around Sam’s neck that had popped out from beneath his shirt.

  Mike leaned in for a closer look. The medallion was in the same shape as the shield that Mike had seen on the chest in his attic. It even had the lion’s head carved beneath the two flags. “What’s that?” Mike asked, pointing at the medallion.

  “Nothing,” Sam said, shoving the medallion back under his shirt. Mike helped Sam up, still wondering about the medallion. He was sure it was the exact same lion’s head that was on the lock in his attic.

  Mike stood with Amy as they watched kids streaming out of the school, free for sixteen hours until the inevitable ringing of the school bell the next morning.

  Amy held a flyer in her hand. She showed it to Mike. It was a picture of Darren and Diane, the kids who had gone missing. “Have you heard anyone talking about these missing kids?” Amy asked Mike.

  Mike was distracted. His eyes were on the front door, and he was clearly looking for someone. “What? No. But I’m telling you, that Sam kid can help us open the chest in our attic.”

  Amy sighed. “You don’t even know if it’s the same lion’s head on his necklace.”

  “It looked the same,” said Mike. “I’m sure of it. Remember, that stuff in our attic is his grandma’s.”

  “Whatever.” Amy didn’t really care. “It creeps me out that these kids are missing. Does this town seem weird to you?”

  Mike looked at Amy. “Actually, it kind of does. Like all the lights being stolen and the missing kids.”

  “Yeah. When we came up here in the summer to visit, I thought this town seemed perfect … too perfect. I thought it would be boring. Now I kind of wish it were.”

  Mike pointed toward Sam as he shuffled out of the school. “There he is.”

  Amy followed Mike as they made their way over to the bike rack where Sam worked the lock on his bike.

  “Hey, Sam,” Mike said as they approached.

  Sam looked up and saw Mike. “Oh, hey.”

  “This is my sister,” Mike gestured toward Amy. Sam’s eyes moved to the left and he froze, captivated by Amy’s beauty a second time.

  “Hi Sam, I’m Amy.” Amy extended her hand. “We’ve already met.”

  Sam stared at Amy’s extended hand awaiting a shake. She reached down, grabbed Sam’s hand, and shook. Sam’s fingers latched onto Amy’s, and a smile spread over his face. “Sam I am.”

  Mike and Amy laughed as Sam blushed. He held onto Amy’s hand a little longer than would have been normal, and Amy detached herself as politely as possible.

  “Okay,” Mike said, shifting gears. “Anyway, Sam, about that chain around your neck.”

  Sam fingered the medallion through his shirt. “I don’t know, my grandma gave it to me. Some kind of key.”

  Mike and Amy looked at each other. A key? “Want to come over to our house?” asked Mike.

  Sam looked at Amy and then quickly at his shoes as she made eye contact. “Uh, I don’t know.”

  Amy was suddenly curious. “It’d be really cool,” she said, smiling widely for Sam.

  Sam looked pretty excited now, but it took a moment for him to speak. “Yeah, yeah, all right. I have my bike, though,” Sam bluffed indifference.

  Mike slapped Sam on the back. “No problem. Our SUV has a rack.”

  Mike and Amy led Sam over to the front curb, where Laura was just pulling up in the Volvo SUV.

  Mike opened the front passenger door. “Hey, Mom, can Sam come over?”

  Laura looked back at Sam and his bike. She turned back to Mike. “First of all, hay is for horses.”

  “Yeah, okay, but can he?” Mike replied.

  “Sure. Let’s get his bike on the rack.” Laura put the SUV in park and opened her door.

  07

  “YOU THOUGHT THAT medallion was a key?” Sam, Mike, and Amy stood bef
ore the large oak chest in the attic.

  “Yeah,” said Sam. He bent down to inspect the gold lock with the lion’s head then yanked his medallion from underneath his shirt, comparing it to the lock. “Cool! It’s the same design!”

  “So, let’s see it.” Mike couldn’t mask his impatience—he wanted to see what was in that chest.

  Sam slowly pulled the chain over his head. He turned the thick gold medallion in his hand until it clicked. The shield split open, and the two sides folded down, exposing a gold key extending from its top. Sam inserted the key into the lion’s mouth on the gold lock. The key fit quickly into place inside the lock, the two pieces interlocking and becoming one. Sam, Mike, and Amy peered closely at the lock, waiting to see what would happen.

  “Whoa.” Sam stood back, letting go of the chain as the lock and the medallion began to spin clockwise. There was another clicking sound, and the lock popped open.

  “Okay, that was pretty cool,” Mike said as he removed the lock from the chest. Amy slowly lifted the heavy lid. A pale light glowed from inside the chest.

  “What are those?” asked Mike, staring inside the chest.

  “I don’t know, some pieces of fabric,” mused Amy.

  “Why are they glowing?” Sam wondered.

  Amy reached inside the chest and grabbed the fabric but jumped back with a yelp.

  “Ow! It shocked me!”

  “Are you okay?” Sam asked, concerned.

  Mike managed a “you okay?” but couldn’t care less—he wanted to know what was inside the chest. “What? Come on, let me try.” Mike reached down into the chest. “Ow!” he jumped back as a strong electric shock jolted his body. “What just happened?”

  Amy laughed, recovering from her own shock. “What? Does it hurt?” She mocked Mike.

  Mike flicked his hand. The feeling was starting to come back. “Yeah, it did. What’s going on?”

  Sam stood over the chest, staring inside. “Maybe it’s just static electricity.” He leaned closer and lowered his hand inside, inching it down carefully. He closed his hand around something soft that felt like silk and raised it up out of the chest.

  Mike and Amy stared as Sam lifted out a peculiar red shirt. The shirt glimmered, as if lit from inside. It was shiny, silky, and smooth. Sam held it up to his torso. “Cool.”

  Mike stared at the chest. “I want one.” He reached in and was immediately shocked. He recoiled in pain.

  Amy snickered. “That will never get old. Why don’t you try again?”

  “Shut up. You try,” said Mike.

  Amy turned from Mike to Sam and then to the chest. She stepped slowly forward and reached inside, moving slowly like Sam, closing her eyes, expecting a shock. But it never came. She pulled out a red shirt similar to Sam’s but more her size. She held the shimmering shirt up, appraising it. “I like it.”

  Mike eyed Amy jealously as she slid the shirt on over her T-shirt.

  Mike’s eyes widened. “Wow!”

  “What?” Sam asked.

  Mike pointed at Amy. Amy stood back, and the shirt seemed to have disappeared. All Mike and Sam could see was her regular T-shirt.

  Amy looked down at the shirt. “Wow. It seems to have been absorbed into my clothing. It’s shimmering—can you guys see it?”

  “No,” said Mike as Sam shook his head.

  “Let me try,” said Sam. He pulled his red shirt on, and Mike gasped as it disappeared into his clothing, as well.

  Sam looked down. He could see the thin, shimmering outline of the red shirt over his clothing. He turned to Amy and could now see her red shirt. “Wow! I can see your shirt now, Amy! Wicked! Can you see my shirt?”

  Amy squinted and could now see Sam’s red shirt. “Yeah, I can! It’s the same glimmering as mine. That’s so cool. How does this work? How is this possible?”

  Mike looked at Sam, then at Amy. He couldn’t see them. “I want one.” He approached the chest carefully. “Maybe it’ll be okay this time,” he muttered. Amy could barely conceal the smile that crept over her lips as Mike reached inside the chest. But this time there was no shock, and he came up with another red shirt.

  “Awesome!” Mike began to pull the shirt on.

  Sam and Amy looked at each other, beaming. Mike could now join the Red Shirt Club, or whatever this was becoming. But their smiles quickly faded and were replaced with looks of confusion. Amy scrunched her nose. “Mike?”

  “Yeah? Can you see my shirt?”

  Sam’s mouth dropped. He was staring at the space where Mike had just been standing, the space from where the sound of Mike’s voice was coming. But Mike was gone. “Where are you?” Sam asked.

  “I’m by the chest. Why? What’s wrong?” asked Mike.

  Sam and Amy leaned in close to the space beside the chest.

  “Mike, can you see us?” asked Amy.

  “Of course I can see you. What’s going on?”

  Amy turned to Sam. “Do you see him?”

  “No.” Sam said, staring intently.

  Amy stepped back, stumbling against a vase. Shocked. Stunned. How could this be? Did her brother just become invisible? “This is impossible,” she whispered.

  Sam couldn’t move. He couldn’t speak. Nothing in his life had prepared him to watch a kid become invisible. He stared straight ahead where Mike should be standing. Suddenly Sam got worried. “Does it hurt?” he asked Mike.

  “Does what hurt?” Mike asked. “What’s wrong with you two? What’s the big deal?”

  Amy looked around and spotted a medium-sized antique mirror. She lifted it off the ground and brought it over to where Mike’s voice was coming from. “Here,” she said, holding the mirror out. The mirror floated away from Amy as Mike took hold of it. “Got it?” Amy asked.

  “Yeah, I got it,” said Mike’s voice. The mirror turned in the air. It then rose up and floated in place for a moment. “Holy crap!” The mirror dropped to the ground and smashed into pieces. Mike’s feet, then legs, then torso, and finally head came into view as he ripped the shirt off.

  Amy was silent. Her tongue played over her teeth, deep in thought. Sam just stared.

  “Put it back on,” said Sam.

  Amy nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, we probably just imagined it.”

  Mike was breathing heavily. His eyes widened, and a small smile began to creep over his lips. He slid the shirt back on and disappeared.

  Sam and Amy looked at each other. “It really does make him invisible,” whispered Sam.

  “Mike!” Amy exclaimed. “Mike, do you feel different?”

  “No. Well, kind of. I mean, I’m invisible!” said Mike.

  Sam looked down at his shimmering red shirt and pulled on it. “Wait, what does mine do?”

  “I don’t know,” said Amy. “This doesn’t make sense. It’s … impossible.”

  “What a jip!” complained Sam.

  Mike took his red shirt off, again becoming visible.

  “What are you doing?” asked Amy.

  “Hold on. I have an idea.” Mike pulled the polo shirt he was wearing off. He then slid the red shirt on. He disappeared from view. His polo shirt floated in midair for a few moments. Then Mike came back into view as he pulled his regular polo shirt on over his red shirt. “Can you see me?” he asked Sam and Amy.

  “Yes,” replied Sam.

  “Cool!” Mike was excited. “When I wear clothes over the red shirt, the powers get deactivated or something.”

  Amy glanced at her shirt. “Okay, but then why aren’t we invisible?”

  “Maybe yours don’t work,” said Mike.

  “That’s unlikely,” said Amy.

  Mike looked back into the chest. “Hey, there’s another shirt in here!” He reached in to grab it, and it shocked him. He jumped back.

  Amy snorted. “The shirt might make you invisible, but it didn’t make you any smarter.”

  “Shut up,” said Mike, rubbing his hand.

  “I think we should close it,” said Sam.

 
; “The chest?” asked Amy.

  “Yeah. Put the shirts back and close it up,” said Sam, his voice growing louder.

  Mike shook his head. “No way. This is too cool to just lock away.”

  “But it could be dangerous!” Sam practically yelled.

  “You’re just jealous because your shirt doesn’t do anything,” said Mike.

  “Am not.”

  Amy looked at Sam and Mike. She leaned against a huge armoire to think about the situation.

  “Look out!” shouted Sam, staring at Amy. He lunged in her direction and caught a large brass pot just before it hit Amy on the head.

  Amy jumped back as Sam lowered the pot to the ground.

  “Thanks, Sam,” Amy smiled at him.

  Sam blushed.

  Mike tilted his head slightly and looked at the pot. “Wait a minute.” He gripped the pot with both hand and tried to lift it. It was too heavy. “Amy, try and lift this.”

  Amy shrugged and tried to lift the pot with one hand, but it was way too heavy. She tried with two hands. Nothing.

  “Sam, you lift it,” said Mike.

  Sam leaned down and lifted the pot with two hands.

  “Now try one hand,” said Mike.

  Sam lifted the pot easily with one hand, as if with superhuman strength.

  “You still want to put the shirts back?” asked Mike.

  “Uh, no, I don’t think so.” Sam stared down at his hands, now stronger than any kid in the sixth grade. He saw a face in his mind’s eye and felt a flash of anger as he recalled the day’s events. Then his eyes filled with excitement.

  Sam felt his bicep, grinning like a fool.

  Amy looked down at her red shirt again, frowning. “Don’t worry, Aim, we’ll figure out what yours does,” Mike said.

  “I guess,” Amy replied.

  Sam picked up the lock and removed his key from it. The medallion automatically closed shut, and Sam hung it around his neck, placing it underneath his shirt.