Stranger Things Have Happened

by Jeff Strand

  18

  If it had turned out to be a foam hammer, Marcus would have laughed and laughed and laughed. “Good one!” he would’ve said. “You totally got me!”

  It was not a foam hammer.

  If it had been a rubber hammer, Marcus also would have laughed and laughed and laughed. “I thought it was a real hammer!” he would have said, wiping tears of merriment from his eyes. “Oh, what a fun-filled, lighthearted joke you’ve played on me! For the next few decades, whenever I’m feeling a bit sad, I’ll look back upon this moment, and it will immediately cheer me up!”

  It was not a rubber hammer.

  Nor was it made from very thin plastic, which might have harmlessly shattered upon striking Marcus’s hand. Nor was it made from soft squishy clay. Nor was it made from duck feathers that had been molded into the shape of a hammer.

  It was a real steel hammer.

  The head of the hammer did not pop off in the nick of time. The hammer did not slip out of Shaggy Hair’s hand an instant before impact. It did not harmlessly bounce off of Marcus’s palm and smack Shaggy Hair in the face. Nobody flung a lasso around it and yanked it away.

  No, a real metal hammer bashed into Marcus’s hand. It hurt so badly that he dropped to his knees, crying out in pain.

  Was his hand broken?

  It might be.

  Was Shaggy Hair going to finish the job?

  He might.

  It was hard for Marcus to keep track of what happened next because he was shrieking “Aaahhhh!” so frequently. He thought he heard the trunk pop open, and he thought he heard a car door open. He thought he heard Spiky Hair make an oomph sound as if he’d been struck by a car door, and he thought he heard something metal like a large knife clatter to the ground. But he couldn’t verify any of these sounds because his eyes were squeezed shut as he screamed.

  But Marcus definitely heard both Spiky Hair and Shaggy Hair say extremely unkind things, and then he heard some commotion and sounds that could have conceivably been generated by hockey sticks smacking against bodies multiple times. Other sounds included but weren’t limited to the noises a pair of guys might make when they dropped unconscious as a result of being repeatedly struck with a hockey stick.

  “Marcus?”

  Marcus looked up at Peter, who was still wearing the witch mask. He held a broken hockey stick. Shaggy Hair lay motionless next to him, and since there was no sign of Spiky Hair, he was presumably lying on the other side of the car.

  “How—”

  “Are you okay?”

  “What—”

  “How’s your hand?”

  “Huh?”

  And then everything went black.

  • • •

  “Marcus? Hey, Marcus! Wake up!”

  Marcus opened his eyes. “How long was I out?”

  “You just hit the ground. A second and a half maybe?”

  “Okay, good.” Marcus cried out again in pain. He’d never known that being hit in the hand with a hammer could hurt so much. He had never entertained the thought that it might be a pleasant sensation, but this was at least 35 percent more painful than he would have predicted.

  “How’s your hand?”

  “Didn’t you just hear me scream?”

  Peter crouched down next to him. “It doesn’t look broken.”

  “You can’t see that through my skin.”

  “At least he didn’t use the claw part.”

  “Yes, everything is simply wonderful.”

  “Can you move your fingers?”

  “There’s one that I’ll be happy to move,” Marcus snapped.

  “Seriously, can you move them?”

  Marcus wiggled his fingers. It hurt like crazy, but his fingers seemed okay. His palm was starting to swell.

  “I’m really sorry,” said Peter. “I thought I had this under control.” He gestured to Shaggy Hair. “I mean, I did have it under control, just not before he hammered your hand.”

  “We should run. Let me get my phone. And could you take off that mask? It’s creeping me out.”

  “If they wake up, they’ll know my secret identity.”

  “Are you kidding me? Peter, you’re not a superhero!”

  “The two unconscious villains would disagree.”

  “I won’t lie. I’m impressed that you knocked them out. But you’re a high school freshman in a witch mask holding a hockey stick. We’re not in a comic book or a TV show or a big-budget movie or a video game or a web series or any of the made-up places where superheroes exist! Whatever issues you’re working out are none of my business, but because of you, I have to make a shark disappear with a broken hand, so forgive me if I’m not calling you the Amazing Peter Chumlin!”

  “Chumkin.”

  “Whatever.”

  “You don’t even know my name?”

  “I was close!”

  “I revealed my secret identity, and you don’t even know my name?” Peter sounded heartbroken even through the rubber mask.

  “You didn’t reveal your secret identity. Your secret identity by definition is your real identity. I already knew that. You revealed your superhero identity.”

  “You know what I meant.”

  “I don’t know what anything means right now! I’ve never been so confused in my life! There’s a giant vortex of confusion swirling around my head! And I apologize for getting your last name slightly wrong. I got it right when I told my friend Kimberly about you. But I’m still reacting to my broken hand, so cut me some slack!”

  “I really don’t think it’s broken.”

  “Unless one of your superpowers is X-ray vision, you don’t get to tell me if my hand is broken or not!” Marcus was so frustrated and angry that he wanted to punch something. Of course, that would only worsen the situation. He reached into the car and picked up his cell phone. “And you’re not helping me do the trick anymore.”

  Peter pulled off the witch mask. “What do you mean?”

  “What do you think I mean? We’re done! I can’t trust you to be around a shark.”

  “I saved your life!” said Peter. “How do you know he wasn’t going to bash in your head next?”

  “You put me in this situation in the first place!”

  “You came along willingly!”

  “No, I protested the entire time!”

  Peter thought for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you did. I just thought that once you saw me defend justice, you’d…I don’t know—”

  “I don’t know either. I have no idea what you were thinking. Why are we still standing around talking? They could wake up any second.”

  “If they did, I’d just knock them out again. It’s not that difficult once they’re already on the ground.”

  “Let’s go.”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” said a sinister but familiar voice.

  Seamus was standing on the other side of the car.

  “How did you get here?” Marcus demanded. He was so angry that he forgot he should be frightened for his life.

  “Magic.”

  “Seriously, how did you get here?”

  “I followed you, of course. I had no other plans for this evening. My social calendar is light these days. Bingo on Sunday nights, but that’s about it. And yes, I cheat at bingo.”

  Marcus didn’t ask how he cheated at bingo. Some other time he might have been interested, but right now he didn’t care. Seamus stood there as if waiting for Marcus to ask how he cheated, but when Marcus said nothing, he shrugged and dropped the subject.

  “Who are you, and how did you follow us?” asked Peter.

  “My name is Sinister Seamus. Your friend knows and fears me. I’m not a master private investigator, but I’ve followed people in their automobiles on a few occasions. I was wondering why you would travel to such a
n unsavory destination. I’m still wondering.”

  “Me too,” said Marcus. “It’s a long, baffling story.”

  Shaggy Hair let out a groan.

  “We need to get out of here before he wakes up,” said Marcus.

  “I’m not quite ready to flee yet,” said Seamus. “We’ll have to subdue him again. Your name is Peter, right?”

  Peter nodded.

  “You’re the one who knocked them out the first time, and since you clearly have your technique down, it makes sense that you’d do it a second time. You’d be re-knocking them out to protect your friend and to serve justice. If I did it, it’d be because I like to hit people. Which reason should we go with?”

  “Uh, it doesn’t matter to me.”

  “Perhaps we should make Marcus do it?”

  “I vote we run,” said Marcus.

  “I vote we run too,” said Peter.

  “Here’s how it will work,” said Seamus. “For every human being you have killed, you get one vote. Marcus, how many people have you killed? On purpose or by accident, it doesn’t matter.”

  “None.”

  “Really? Fifteen years old and you haven’t killed a single person? What have you been doing with your life all this time?”

  Shaggy Hair started to push himself up.

  “Peter, same question,” said Seamus. “Let me know if you need me to repeat it.”

  “None,” said Peter.

  “You don’t even sound ashamed of that.”

  “I guess I’m not.”

  “Both of you have squandered your lives. We can’t all be killing people by the age of three like me, but fifteen? That’s just plain lazy.”

  “Who is this guy again?” Peter asked Marcus.

  “If Marcus is in a squeamish mood, I suppose I’ll have to step up to the plate,” said Seamus. “That’s a baseball reference. A hockey reference would be more appropriate, but I’m not that familiar with the sport. Do you have a reference I could use, Peter?”

  “Uh, time to skate out onto the ice?”

  “I suppose I’ll have to skate out onto the ice.” Seamus kicked Shaggy Hair in the head, and he flopped back onto the ground, motionless. “Oh, I enjoyed that. I’m going to do it again, even though it’s unnecessary.” Seamus kicked him twice more.

  “Can we go now?” asked Marcus.

  “We cannot,” said Seamus. “I may have misheard, but if I’m not mistaken, you told your friend that he would not be participating in your illusion. Is that correct?”

  “Yeah,” said Marcus, holding up his swollen hand.

  “In the world of magic, there is nothing more important than loyalty. Perhaps it’s misplaced loyalty in this scenario. Your friend caused a punk to break your hand because he took you into a terrible part of town, all because of his delusional belief that he’s a superhero. Still, misplaced or not, I reject your effort to cut him loose.”

  “What?” asked Marcus.

  “In the world of magic, there is nothing more important than—”

  “I heard you.”

  “I must have misunderstood what you meant by what.”

  “Are you saying I have to work with him?”

  “Bingo!”

  “He almost got me killed. He still might!”

  “Yes, he’s not an ideal partner. You should have chosen better before you saved him from bullies.”

  “How do you know everything?”

  “Like I said, light social calendar.”

  “He didn’t save me,” said Peter. “I was protecting my secret identity.”

  “Also,” said Seamus, “because of your attempt at disloyalty, I’m cutting one month off your deadline.”

  “What?”

  “In the world of magic, there is nothing more important than—”

  “I heard you,” said Marcus. “But you can’t do that!”

  “Of course I can,” said Seamus. “I can also order you not to tell the police, your parents, or any medical professionals what really happened to your hand. You’ll have to make something up. Something interesting but not too interesting.”

  “I can’t do the trick in a month,” Marcus insisted. “I probably couldn’t do it in two months! It’s gone from ridiculous and impossible to ridiculouser and impossibler. I mean, more ridiculous and more impossible! This isn’t fair!”

  “Life isn’t fair,” said Seamus. “In life, sometimes you get the middle seat on a plane and sometimes your selfies get photobombed. Deal with it.”

  “You’ve already printed the posters.”

  “I’ll print new ones. When you reach my level of sheer evil, you don’t care about the paper waste.” Seamus frowned. “I mean, obviously I’ll put the old ones in a recycling bin. It’s important to take care of the environment.”

  “If you’re making it impossible for me to do the trick, I might as well call the police.”

  “I wouldn’t.”

  “I will.”

  “I wouuuuuuuuuldn’t,” said Seamus, singing his words.

  “Evil people suck,” said Marcus. “I just want to throw that out there.”

  “Noted,” said Seamus. “So let’s recap. You have one less month to prepare your astounding illusion. You are required to work closely with Peter, even though he’s proven himself to be unstable. You are also required to work closely with Kimberly, because she seems quite delightful.”

  “Hey, I think I hear the other guy moaning,” said Peter. “Do you want to whack him again, or should I? Or should we leave now?”

  “You go ahead and whack him.”

  “All right.” Peter went around to the other side of the car. There was a loud whack followed by a groan from Spiky Hair, and then Peter rejoined Marcus and Seamus.

  “Is he dead?” Seamus asked.

  “No, no, just sleeping.”

  “A pity. Is there anything else we need to discuss?”

  “Nah,” said Marcus. “I think we’re good.”

  “Okay. Well, I don’t know about you two, but I’ve had a most enjoyable evening. I’m sure I’ve had more fun than you two, but that’s because I’m evil.”

  “You keep talking about how evil you are,” said Peter. “A truly evil person wouldn’t need to keep saying it to everybody.”

  “Do you want me to demonstrate it instead of saying it?”

  “No, that’s okay.”

  “Are we finally done?” asked Marcus.

  “Almost,” said Seamus. “I’m also a pretty good mechanic. Pop the hood, and let’s see what I can do.”

  19

  Marcus and Peter drove away. Seamus had indeed fixed the car, though he kept threatening to kill them while he was doing it.

  “I’m sorry about all of this,” said Peter. “I shouldn’t have put us in danger.”

  “No, you really shouldn’t have.”

  “I’m trying to apologize.”

  “I get that. Nobody has ever needed to apologize to me more.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t accept your apology.”

  “You have to accept an apology.”

  “I have to accept an apology if you spill soup on my shirt. I don’t have to accept one if you get my hand broken.”

  “I’m still going to make you a great shark tank.”

  “Oh, gosh, yay.”

  “I guess we need a cover story,” said Peter.

  “We were building a mock-up of the tank using wooden boards. You were hammering in a nail and hit my hand instead.”

  “That makes me sound clumsy.”

  “Too bad.”

  “It doesn’t make you sound all that great either. You shouldn’t have your hand on a board if people are hammering nails into it.”

  “Do you have a better idea?”

&nbs
p; “I figured a hammer fell off a shelf onto your hand.”

  “That sounds like a lie. Why would a hammer fall off a shelf?”

  “Earthquake?”

  “No.”

  “Maybe I accidentally bumped the shelf,” Peter suggested. “That still makes me sound clumsy, but it’s not as bad as me accidentally hitting your hand.”

  “That’s completely… Actually, yeah, that makes sense.”

  “What about the car windows?”

  “We found them like that.”

  “Wow, you’re a good liar. But I guess that’s what magicians do.”

  “No,” said Marcus. “Magicians deceive people who know they’re being deceived. When a magician goes up on stage to perform a trick, it’s understood by everybody in the audience that there’s an illusion involved. That’s the whole point. This isn’t the same thing at all.”

  “Sorry. I didn’t realize you were so sensitive about it.”

  “Now you know.”

  Peter nervously drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “So, uh, this is going to sound crazy, but we don’t have to make up a cover story. What I mean is that we could just keep driving wherever the road takes us. That Seamus guy can’t follow us forever.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Leaving all our problems behind. Drive away.”

  “Are you out of your mind? Don’t answer that. I already know.”

  “We wouldn’t have to worry about dying or making a shark disappear. It’s win-win.”

  “I don’t think you understand what win-win means,” said Marcus.

  “I’m not saying it would be an easy life, but there would be no homework, no tests, no psycho magicians. At least think about it.”

  Marcus gaped at him. “Do you really for one fraction of a split millisecond believe that I’m going to leave my parents, leave school, leave my entire life so we can drive around the country? Do you really think I would take you up on that offer?”

  “I guess not,” said Peter.

  “Every time I think you can’t get weirder, you get weirder. And though I like weirdness, that’s not a compliment.”

  “I’m sorry. It was a bad suggestion.”

  “Yes, it was.”

  “I guess you have more to stick around for than I do.”