by Chris Yee
Mrs. Shepherd arrived and greeted her guest with a high cheery smile. “What a surprise. It’s so good to see you. Please, come in.”
Mrs. Vigo stepped in and slipped her shoes off before following her host into the kitchen. They both took a seat on the wooden stools, facing each other across the table.
Mrs. Shepherd interlocked her fingers and placed them in front of her. She crossed her legs and tapped her foot against the leg of the table. “How are things at the shop?”
“A little slow, but good enough to get by.”
“I’ll stop by sometime. Your meats are top notch. Best in Rodin.”
“Tell that to everyone else. Luckily, we have loyal customers like you to keep our business running.”
“I wouldn’t even think of shopping anywhere else.” She switched her legs to cross the other way. “I don’t know how your husband keeps up with it, at his age. The hunts must be exhausting.
“Vincent has been helping a lot. He brings most of our meat now.”
“How is Vincent doing anyway?”
“That’s actually why I’m here.” She leaned forward. “As you already know, his birthday is coming up.”
“Oh yes. When is that? In three days, right? I’m looking forward to the party. Have you finished planning everything?”
“Almost. It’s a surprise, so I need someone to keep Vincent away from the house while we set up. Saul’s a good friend. I was hoping he could take Vincent out for a little while, just to keep him busy.”
“He would be glad to.”
“Great. Thank you so much.” Mrs. Vigo shivered in her seat. “I’m so excited for the party.”
“It will be a good time, I’m sure.”
“I hope so. Vincent deserves to have a little fun. He always works so hard.” They both smiled in agreement. “Anyway, I should get going. Dinner is waiting for me back at the house.
“Very well,” Mrs. Shepherd said. They both rose from their seats. “I’ll make sure Saul keeps Vincent distracted.” She walked Mrs. Vigo to the door and held it open. “Have a pleasant evening.”
Mrs. Vigo left with one less thing to plan. The pieces were falling into place. Everything was going to be perfect.
NINETEEN
ROGER WAS DREADING school as usual. Ever since the move to Rodin, he had built up a good deal of enemies. Nobody treated him poorly, they just avoided him altogether. He struggled with school work too. For Roger, school was a place of lonely confusion.
He entered the classroom and walked to his seat in the back corner. When Vince and Saul entered, the only seats open were the two in front of him. They squeezed by to sit down. “Oh great,” he heard Saul say. “We have to sit in front of this loser.”
“Shut up,” Roger said. “I’m the one that has your big head blocking my view.”
“It’s no wonder you don’t have friends. Your parents probably can’t stand you.”
This was true, and Roger knew it. The last five years in Rodin were the worst of his life. No friends. Irritating parents. He wanted to move back to Vassor but knew that would never happen. Slice and dice. Of all his classmates, he hated Saul the most. So when the insulting words left Saul’s mouth, his temper skyrocketed. “At least I have both of my parents.”
As soon as he said it, he wanted to take it back. Saul had lost his father only a year ago and bringing it up now was the most tasteless thing he could have said. Saul’s posture sank, and his eyes dropped to the ground. He turned his back and sat down with no response. The surrounding kids glared at Roger. Guilt and anger mixed together to create a whirlwind of confusion in his head. Saul provoked me. It’s not my fault. But everyone’s judging me. Overwhelmed, he reached for his bag and pulled out The Happy Turtle. He looked at the image of Walter marching down the trail with a smile on his face. It was calming. He stared at the cover until his mind settled. Once he was calm, he lifted his head to see that Ms. Martin had already started class.
He tried to focus on her words, but could not grasp the material. He needed to refresh his mind. His arm shot straight up, to get her attention. “Ms. Martin, may I be excused?”
“Of course Roger. But don’t take too long. You’ll miss some important stuff.”
Roger placed the book back in his bag and left the room. He paced about outside, making laps around the building. The air was cool and refreshing, and the temperature was just right. The singing birds were soothing. The fresh air was exactly what he needed to clear his thoughts.
As he strolled back into class, Ms. Martin was lecturing on the types of clouds. He returned to his seat and reached into his bag. His book was gone. The Happy Turtle had vanished.
His heart pounded like crazy, pumping hot blood to his face. A grinding headache invaded his mind. His hands trembled. His thoughts were incoherent. He twisted around. Looking for the book. Searching on the ground. Under a seat. On a desk. Anywhere. Rage filled his stomach, traveled up his chest, and burned his throat until he could no longer hold it.
“Where is my book?” he yelled, slamming his desk in a sudden rage.
Ms. Martin stopped mid-sentence and stared at Roger, along with the rest of the class. “Where is my book?” he repeated. “I put it in my bag, and now it’s gone. One of you took it. Stole it. I know you all hate me. And now you think it’s okay to take my stuff!”
“Calm down Roger,” Ms. Martin said. “I’m sure no one stole your book. You must have misplaced it.”
“No!” He slammed his fist. Tears streamed from his eyes. “I put it down right here. And now it’s gone. One of you took it!” He turned and pointed his finger. “It must have been Saul!”
“Don’t accuse Saul,” she said. “He didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I’m telling you! He stole my book! He stole it to get back at me for what I said! You know what? Now I’m glad I said it! I’m glad your father is dead!”
“Roger!” She stomped her foot and pointed her finger. Her voice echoed across the room and pierced the children’s ears. “That’s enough! I will not allow this kind of behavior! You are excused from class! I will have a serious talk with your parents after school!”
“But—“
“But nothing! Leave this classroom, now!”
Roger grabbed his bag and dragged his feet out the door. His face was drenched with tears. How would he explain this to his parents?
TWENTY
WITH FIVE YEARS of hunting experience, and plenty of time to experiment, the boys learned much about their powers. They drained mostly deer. It was popular at the shop, and they were common throughout the woods. They had developed unexpected benefits from draining. They could go for long periods without food or water. They needed less sleep and always woke up refreshed. Their cuts and wounds healed quickly, and they never got sick. Their physical strength was at peak form. They took full advantage of these benefits, but they kept their powers hidden, frightened of how others would react.
They also noticed a drop in efficiency. The drains were less potent. The energy from each drain had a lesser effect, as their bodies adapted. To counter this, the boys started to drain more frequently.
It was the night of Vince’s birthday party, and on Mrs. Vigo request, Saul took Vince to go hunting, to distract him from her plans. They were both familiar with these woods now. Every path. Every clearing. Every landmark. It was all committed to memory. They knew exactly where to find deer, how to track them, and the best ways to wound them without killing them.
They stood over the body of a freshly drained deer. As they cut the meat with their knives, Vince looked over at Saul and saw intense thought in his expression. “What are you thinking about?”
“What?” he replied, a little startled by the question.
“Something important is on your mind,” he said as he began loading chunks of meat into an empty bag. “I can tell. It’s been on your mind for a while.”
“Oh, it’s nothing.”
“Nothing, huh?” He adjusted the bag, pulling i
t towards him. A branch grabbed the side and tore open a large hole. “Damn it. I ripped the bag.” He examined the hole and then continued loading in meat. “I know something’s on your mind.”
“You’re not going to like it. Are you sure you want to know?”
“Positive.”
“Okay…” Saul took a deep breath. “I want to drain a human.”
Silence…
“You can’t be serious,” Vince said, shocked that his friend could consider such a thing.
“I am completely serious. Think about it. Draining is getting weaker, right? But humans live longer than rabbits and deer. I’m sure you’ve sensed the energy coming from the people around us. I have too. It feels so much stronger. Imagine the feeling of draining something that strong. I miss that rush that we used to get.”
“But these are people you’re talking about. It’s not for food. It’s not for survival. You want to kill for pleasure. You don’t see anything wrong with that?”
“You know what I see? Sooner or later these animals won’t be enough. If we truly want to live forever, we need to upgrade.” He looked at the deer carcass. “If you ask me, there are plenty of human scum out there. People that deserve to die more than this deer.”
“If animals aren’t enough, what makes you think humans will be. If you start draining people, eventually the same thing will happen.” He shook his head. “No. There is no way we can drain a human. If we really want to live longer, we need to drain less. No more draining for pleasure. Only use our powers when we need to. Take a break.”
“Take a break?” Saul said. “You want us to stop draining? I didn’t expect you to take my side, but this…this is ridiculous. I don’t want to take a break.”
“You don’t want to live for as long as possible?”
“I want to enjoy this gift we have.” His voice had grown louder.
“What about living forever?” Vince asked. “Isn’t that why we’re doing this? I know that’s why I am. I don’t enjoy killing these animals. And now you’re talking about killing people? There’s no way we could get away with that. They would catch us. We can’t let this get out of hand.”
“Maybe it’s time for people to know what we can do.” He was yelling now. “We can’t hide forever. We don’t know how they’ll respond. Maybe they’ll support us.”
Saul had a good point. They could never hide it forever. At some point, their friends and family would know. It was inevitable. Perhaps it was time to show other people. They would have to plan it carefully. If they did not handle it properly, things could go very bad. Draining a human being was not the proper way to show off their powers. “Saul,” Vince said, staring directly into his eyes. “You have to promise me you will never drain a person…ever.”
Saul’s jaw tensed up and his breaths shortened. Hot blood rushed from his racing pulse into his trembling face. His frustration built until could not contain it. “Stop telling me what to do!” he screamed, throwing his bag to the ground and stormed off.
Vince was speechless. He sat alone, looking down at the bloody carcass.
TWENTY-ONE
AFTER LOSING HIS book, getting yelled at in class, and being completely humiliated in front of everyone, Roger was dreading going home. But where else could he go? He had no friends. Nowhere to go to stall. And he wanted to tell his parents first anyway, before Ms. Martin could get in touch with them. Of course, nothing could excuse his hurtful words to Saul, but it was not completely his fault. Saul had provoked him. His mind raced as the thought of confronting his parents set in. What would he tell them?
When he got home, he was completely exhausted. He entered the front door and checked the house. “I’m home!” There was no answer. He struggled up the stairs and collapsed on his bed.
*****
When he woke up, the sky was already dark. He had slept through the entire afternoon. He rubbed his eyes and stretched as he yawned. The sound of clattering dishes came from downstairs. His parents were home. Ms. Martin had surely spoken to them by now.
He snuck down the stairs, as quiet as possible. When he reached the bottom, he tiptoed around the corner and into the dining room. His father sat patiently at the dinner table as his mother prepared the food. There was no sign of anger. No disappointment. Maybe she had not yet spoken to Ms. Martin. She held a large carving knife and fork, which she used to slice the juicy ham.
Slice and dice.
She looked up and saw Roger, peeking around the corner. “You’re finally awake,” she said. She sounded more cheerful than usual. “I was worried you would sleep through dinner. Come, sit down before the food gets cold.” Roger approached the table with caution. Did they know about the incident? It was hard to tell. He watched his mother as she cut the succulent ham.
When she finished, she took her seat and placed the knife on the table, near Roger. “So sweetie, how was your day at school?”
Roger stared at his food to avoid eye contact. “Just like any other day.”
“Nothing unusual happened?”
“No,” Roger said, shaking his head.
“Ms. Martin came by this afternoon. She seems to think differently.”
They knew. He needed to explain his side of the story. “Saul started it.”
“You told him you were glad his father is dead?”
“I told you. He started it. He said—”
“I don’t care what he said or did to you. What you said is completely unacceptable.”
Slice.
“You don’t understand. Saul has been picking on me ever since we moved here.”
“I don’t care. You never say that to someone who has lost a loved one. There is no excuse. As punishment, I’m afraid I will have to take your books. All of them. No more reading those ridiculous stories of yours.”
Slice and dice.
“What?” Roger yelled. His books were everything. They calmed him down. Helped him relax. Reading made his miserable, lonely life at least a little bearable. He would never let her take them. “You can’t do that!”
“Oh yes, I can. From now on, you will come straight home from school. You will study quietly in your room until dinner’s ready. No reading. No horseplay.”
Slice and dice, she’s not so nice.
“Maybe that’s a bit much, honey,” his father said.
“It is a perfectly reasonable punishment. We raised him better than this.”
Roger jumped to his feet. “This isn’t fair. You haven’t even heard the whole story.”
She rose to her feet as well. “You insulted a boy in a completely inappropriate manner.” She started to walk towards him. “You were in the wrong. If you can’t understand that, then clearly you need to think about it some more. Go to your room.”
Slice and dice, I hate my life.
“I’m not going anywhere!” he screamed as she approached. “I’m staying right here!”
She grabbed his wrist. “I am your mother. You will listen to me!” Slice. She tugged his arm, but he tugged back. His defiance infuriated her. Dice. His father rose from his seat as well, to break up the scuffle, but he found himself caught in it instead. Roger’s face burned bright red as he struggled to break free. Slice and dice. He screamed with anger. Tears poured from his eyes. Slice and dice. He thrashed his limbs back and forth. Slice and dice.
And then he saw the knife.
Slice and dice,
She’s not so nice,
So grab that knife,
And end her life…
Roger’s fingers were tightly clenched around the handle of the carving knife. Fresh blood trickled from the blade’s tip. He dropped the knife and pressed his hands to his face, but realized he was rubbing blood into his skin. He lowered his hands and saw two bodies. His mother at his feet. His father hunched over the table. They were both dead.
He panicked. How did this happen? Anger had gotten the better of him. It had taken control of his body. But the anger was not towards his parents. Not even his mothe
r. It was Saul. Saul was the reason his parents were dead.
He grabbed the blood crusted knife and marched out the front door. Tonight was Vince’s birthday party. That was where Saul would be.
TWENTY-TWO
SAUL WALKED BACK from the woods, over the hill toward Vince’s house. After his argument with Vince, the party was bound to be awkward. He was still upset, but Vince was his friend. He would place his frustrations aside for now, and celebrate his friend’s birthday.
He had not planned on telling Vince about his desires to drain a human, at least not yet. He never expected Vince to understand, but he took a chance. Even though Vince objected, he still planned on going through with it. He would still drain a human, just not tonight.
He arrived at the house. The windows were dark, and the only sound was the soft chirp of crickets. Was the house empty? Either that or everyone was really good at hiding. He opened the front door and walked through.
“Surprise!” Lanterns burst with light, filling the room with bright colors. A chorus of people began to sing but stopped when they saw Vince was not there.
“Where’s Vincent?” Mrs. Vigo asked.
“He insisted I go ahead without him. He’s just finishing up out there and didn’t want to keep me waiting. He should be here soon.”
“Good.” She turned around to face the guests. “False alarm. That was good practice, though. Everyone back to their positions.” The people dimmed the lanterns and shuffled back behind the furniture. “How long will he be?”
“I don’t know. He shouldn’t be too long. Maybe five, ten minutes.”
As the time passed, people began to disperse from their hiding to take advantage of the refreshments. Mrs. Vigo had completely outdone herself. The food was delicious, the drinks were refreshing, the decorations were outstanding, and the cake was beautiful. It was a double layer cake topped with buttercream frosting and chocolate sprinkles. She had drawn intricate flowers around the edge, and in the middle wrote, Happy 17th Birthday Vincent!