“We will, in a sec.”
He approached the statue in a slight crouch, ready to react if it suddenly up and charged at him. He tiptoed down the steps and put his hand out, tapping one finger on the top of its head.
It didn’t move or react.
His parents would be back soon. He didn’t want them to see it. He’d have to hide it. He glanced at the treeline. The yard butted up against several acres of woods, a declared sanctuary or something.
He lifted the statue, praying it wouldn’t suddenly squirm like his sister did when he carried her.
Hugo held it away from his body and marched it to the back gate. He opened it and checked on Katie. She still sat on his skateboard but was trying to rock it toward the steps.
He took five paces into the woods and tucked the statue behind a fallen tree he’d featured in a spectacularly lame tightrope video. He hustled back into the yard and scrambled across the grass to head off toward his sister.
Katie sat on the skateboard, its front wheels about to shoot off the edge of the deck and drop her onto the steps.
He took the stairs in one leap and halted her progress.
“Easy there, wild child.”
Katie laughed.
Hugo needed to distract her. He placed the skateboard on the sidewalk up by the octagon and carted her over. He hit record on the GoPro and got her to lay on her stomach. He pushed her across the chalk drawings, narrating the action much to his sister’s delight.
“Katie Hammersmith is racing across shapes she drew herself. This genius knows her polygons.”
Katie said, “Twiangle, whombus.”
He tickled his sister and then lifted her off Red Lightning to have her soar up onto the deck and land in a chair. “She is so wild and crazy, folks. What awesome stunt will she perform next? Watch her next video to find out.” He wondered if his sister’s videos would land him more followers. He decided against it. His parents would be upset at him sharing her life on the Internet. His mom would really tear into him. Privacy is important to us, Hugo. What were you thinking?
Katie tugged at her helmet, clearly done with it.
He helped her take it off.
“Dwink please.” She ran to the door.
He wondered if she’d bring up the statue. If she did, he’d have to make something up. He didn’t want his parents to know he had a rock creature stashed in the woods. Of course, what would keep it from walking off? Maybe later, he’d sneak off and tie it to the log or something.
Hugo got a juice box from the fridge, made a dramatic show of stabbing the box with the straw, and handed it to Katie.
He got himself a bottled water. Hugo pulled up the Lou/Nelson group text, his only group text for that matter, and attached the video. He wrote a simple message. We need to meet. Get over here as soon as you can.
He sent the text and checked the time. His parents would be home in less than an hour. Hopefully, he could convince them to have some friends over. He could say they needed to swing by because he owed them the ice cream from yesterday. He thought his parents would go for that excuse. And how could they say no? His dad would practically be doing cartwheels that he was interacting with living, breathing peers.
He looked at his sister playing with her mushroom unicorn monstrosity at the table. He’d kept his sister in one piece. That counted for something, right?
Hugo escorted her into the playroom and was subjected to dress up. After several not-so-quick costume changes—a cowboy, a ninja, a dinosaur cop and a princess—he heard the garage door roll up. He quickly removed his tiara and veil and pink skirt and reminded Katie to talk all about the shapes they’d done so he could show off their video. He didn’t dare tell her not to mention the statue because that would have the opposite effect. He just had to hope her toddler brain had simply forgotten the incident.
Chapter 7
Lou Meets Not Quite a Golem
Lou couldn’t believe her eyes. She watched the video again. The statue had walked.
She wrote in the group text. What’s this? Did it attack you? Is your sister okay?
Hugo didn’t respond, but Nelson did. This can’t be real. He faked it.
Why would he do that?
I don’t know, but statues don’t come to life, not in the real world.
She paused, uncertain if she should type the word on her mind. She waited, hoping Hugo would respond and introduce it into the back and forth.
Nelson filled the conversational void. Hey, Hugo, you can’t just send this along and not comment further.
Maybe he can’t. Like maybe his sister is upset about it and he’s trying to calm her down.
She decided to mention what was flitting around at the edges of her thoughts. It could be magic.
Nelson didn’t reply.
Hugo was also radio silent.
Guys? She felt like an idiot. Lou glanced out her window at Nelson’s bedroom window. Was he also laying on his bed texting? She had no idea what his room looked like. Probably pretty tidy with lots of nature books and maybe some animal posters. Definitely no stuffed animals but maybe some realistic model kits of predators and prey. She wasn’t sure why she thought that, but now she couldn’t get the image of a model featuring a panther laying in wait to pounce on—what? What did panthers eat? Nelson would surely know.
Nelson finally responded. I’m not prepared to embrace or endorse that idea.
She laughed to herself. Nelson had such an odd way with words. Why couldn’t he talk normal? Although, she truly didn’t mind. It challenged her. And if she was being honest, her own vocabulary had been shaped by the hundreds of comic books she’d read. She’d received smug judgment from her classmates at some of her own word choices the last few years.
She kept it simple. He’ll get back to us. Distract yourself for a little. Going to read until I see him respond. If he can have us over, will you go?
Yes. Then a follow-up text. Will contribute again when I see Hugo has responded.
****
About a half hour later, Hugo finally texted.
Lou put down her Teen Titans comic and focused on her phone.
Sorry, guys. Had to keep tabs on my sister. Mission accomplished. Parental units have returned now and are distracting her with a giant bouncy ball they picked up on the way home.
So he’d been alone again, taking care of his sister no less. Lou was impressed, although she was a little mortified that a twelve-year-old was babysitting. While he was in seventh grade and not sixth like them, he was still close to their age. Last night, she’d looked him up in her yearbooks and found he’d skipped third grade. He had apparently been in the same class with her in kindergarten, but she couldn’t remember anything from that age other than crying in a big sandbox over touching rabbit poop. Pellets, Nelson would say.
Hugo answered her earlier questions. The thing showed up in my backyard. He walked up to my sister while I went inside for something. She was wearing my GoPro and recording. It—he didn’t attack her. She’s fine and, so far, hasn’t said a word about it to my parents. Hoping it stays that way.
Nelson typed. Is it still in your backyard? My mom says I can come over after 1:00. It’s 12:25 right now. Are you coming, Lou?
Lou hadn’t asked her mom yet, but was confident she’d jump at the chance to have her socialize. Pretty sure I can. Is 1:00 good with you, Hugo?
Hugo replied to both of them. He’s not in the backyard anymore. Hid him in the woods out back. Hoping he didn’t walk off. 1:00 is good. I’ll eat lunch after. Both my parents say it’s okay for you guys to swing by. I said you were coming to claim your rightful ice cream from yesterday. Mom laughed and said sure.
Lou wanted to get a move on. Let’s talk more face to face. Gotta go get ready. Nelson, bike wheels on the ground in twenty minutes?
Nelson’s reply made her snort. Not sure you’re using that aviation analogy correctly. It’s referencing when a plane lands. Neither of us are currently airborne astride our bicycles. At least I’m not.
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Hugo threw in the Tears of Joy emoji and one word. Hilarious.
****
They quickly ate their ice cream while watching Katie dance on the couch in the family room. She sang some sort of tune about a ‘gingabed’ monster. Hugo’s mom stood behind her to act as a safety net in case his sister tumbled backward. Lou giggled at how the toddler teetered about thanks to the cushiony terrain underfoot.
Mr. and Mrs. Hammersmith were gracious hosts. Hugo’s dad seemed rather excited that his son had friends over, commenting several times on such. He asked easygoing questions of both guests. Lou volunteered her love of comic books and also shared how Nelson really liked nature, since her neighbor wasn’t very forthcoming. He kept looking at the woods between spoonfuls.
Hugo’s dad pointed at the slurry Nelson had whipped into being and now slurped away at. “I like mine all runny, too. Tastes better that way.”
“I get a headache if I eat it frozen, so I imitate a decomposer and liquify my meal.”
“You want a straw?” Hugo’s dad was pleased Nelson had finally chosen to engage.
“Not necessary. I have only six more spoonfuls to go.”
Hugo finished his bowl first, Lou placed second, and Nelson sucked down his final puddle last.
Katie looked tired of dancing and was straying from her performance. Still, she kept singing her silly, now much breathier song, and bowing as she drifted over to a doll Lou thought looked like a mushroom with a single horn.
Hugo wagged his eyebrows at them as he took their bowls and dropped each in the sink. “Dinner and a show. I should’ve insisted on slapping you two with a cover charge.” He looked knowingly at his dad.
“Hey, that’s my joke. Hilarity thief!” He crossed his arms and harrumphed at his son.
Hugo’s mom directed Katie into the other room and set her up with a tablet, declaring she could begin her half hour of video time. Katie said, “Sunshine Worms, Mommy!” She hugged her mom’s leg and added, “Please.”
Nelson now sat on his knees on the bench of the breakfast nook and stared out the window at the woods.
Hugo’s dad noticed. “A wonderland, Nelson. Hugo tells me you like nature.”
Nelson kept his gaze fixed out the window. “Yes.”
“That’s a conservation area. 8.7 acres. Even a little creek runs through it. Bet you might find tadpoles there.”
“If there was a delay with their thyroid hormones, we might see tadpoles. They will likely overwinter as polliwogs this late in the year. Smart of them, as tadpoles are better suited to surviving the winter’s low-oxygen conditions compared to their adult counterparts.”
Mr. Hammersmith looked taken aback. It was clear he’d been trying to offer some connection to Nelson and hadn’t expected such a robust answer.
Hugo slapped Nelson on the back. Lou almost expected her skittish neighbor to protest, but he just shuffled off the bench and stood, out of reach from any further backslaps.
Hugo said, “That’s what we were hoping to do. Is it okay if we mount an expedition to the creek? We’ll be back by four.”
His mom chimed in from the other room. “Three and just as long as you each grab a water. And take an extra, mister, in case any of your friends needs another.”
Hugo was already raiding the fridge. He removed four bottles, handing one each off to Lou and Nelson while he socked the other two in a camo drawstring bag and slung it over his shoulder. He patted the front pocket of his jeans. “Phone’s fully charged, so shall we?” He looked at Lou and Nelson.
They left out the back door, exited the deck, crossed the yard, and stood at the back gate.
Hugo hung on it as if he was about to swing it open and cling to it like a monkey keen for a little ride. “Ready to have your mind blown?”
“What if it walked off?” Nelson asked.
“A possibility. Let’s find out.” He flung the gate open and traipsed into the woods. He avoided a thorn bush and leapt over a fallen tree, keeping his attention on the backside of the log the whole time. His eyes widened, and he smiled. “He’s still here. Hello, Rocky.”
Lou and Nelson jogged around the ragged end of the log. She thought Nelson was taking note of the many termites racing about along a barkless section of the log, but he quickly reoriented on the statue.
Hugo waited until the back gate closed itself before he stood the statue up.
“So what do we do? Ask it to walk for us?” Lou said. The statue looked the same as before, its arms out and palms cupped to receive water.
Something about its birdbath-hand arrangement nagged at her.
Hugo addressed the statue, “You obviously are drawn to me. What’s on your mind? Speak.” He gestured with both hands as if casting a spell.
The statue did nothing.
Nelson inspected it. “Maybe it’s dormant.”
“Like he’s sleeping?” Hugo eyed his house. “We can try to wake him, but if we get too loud, Dad’ll get curious. He’s always curious.”
“No, I doubt screaming at it will do any good. Maybe it needs a catalyst.”
“Like a temperature change?” Lou asked.
“Dad has a blowtorch, but I don’t think I can sneak that out of the garage and not raise suspicion. He has a sixth sense when it comes to detecting when I’m playing with fire.” He ended with a lightning-quick grin.
Lou felt he was kidding. She thought she could tell. He seemed to smile too quickly when he fired off a new round of his humor.
Nelson stayed serious. “No, I don’t think it’s that.”
“What about its hands?” Lou said. “Could it be trying to tell us what it needs?”
Nelson drew in a breath. “You’re onto something.” He twisted off his bottlecap and held up his water. “Could hydration be the trigger?”
“Certainly is with my parents,” Hugo said. “They act like it’s the single most important thing in the world. Like people have died from not drinking enough water.”
Nelson shot him a look and then surprised Lou. “Your sarcasm is not appreciated, and I’m sure you don’t want me to search for the exact statistic of how many people expire daily from not imbibing enough H2O, right?”
Good for you, Nelson. Happy to see you exhibit some snark.
Hugo blankly stared at Nelson, startled at being put in his place.
Nelson leaned forward and hovered the bottle’s lip above the statue’s right hand. He tipped it ever so slightly, allowing a dribble to flow. The water hit its open palm and splattered. He let more flow out until the palm was filled with water. He did the same with the other.
Nelson capped his bottle and stepped back, disappointed.
“Theory blown. Sorry about that,” Hugo said. “Want to try Lou’s heat idea? Maybe smuggle out some matches or a candle and go for hot hands?”
Lou studied the tiny reservoirs. They were slowly shrinking.
Nelson must’ve noticed the same thing as he looked under each rocky hand. “Nothing dripping out the bottoms.”
Hugo caught their meaning and added his two cents. “Then where’s it going? It’s disappearing too fast for it to be evaporation.”
Nelson nodded at him. “Look at its forearms.”
The gray was still dominant, but the flecks of brown were connecting to one another, forming veins or tributaries that flowed upward along its arm.
The brown rivulets traveled down its body until they covered every part except the statue’s head.
Hugo pointed at the statue’s hands. “It needs a second helping.”
Sure enough, the puddles were all gone. It had absorbed the water.
Nelson quickly filled each cupped hand again.
They watched the water seemingly soak into the palms and travel up its arms, thickening the veinlike pathways. This time, they spread up to the head.
Suddenly, the statue blinked.
Hugo jumped back. Lou and Nelson held their ground, but both tensed.
The statue brought its hands together an
d batted away the unabsorbed water. “A thousand thank yous, young man.”
“He talks,” Hugo said.
The statue touched his toes and performed several stretches, reaching to the sky and indulging in some limber twists.
“See, told you—magic!” Hugo wagged a finger at the rock creature.
“Of course I’m magic.” He did several lunges.
“What are you?” Nelson asked.
“Answers will be forthcoming but allow me to be cryptic a wee bit longer. I positively find keeping folks in the dark invigorating. Most wizards do. Some even draw power from it, but I’m not parasitic like that.”
“Wait, you’re a wizard? You don’t look like one.” Lou pictured Doctor Strange. Although, he went by sorcerer. This little guy looked nothing like Gandalf or Harry Potter, either. Now that the water had awakened him or whatever, he was more brown than gray, more like mud than stone. In fact, he looked softer all over. Like if she poked him, he’d be doughboy squishy.
“Ah, because I’m currently not in my true body. This shell is on loan to me. Its rightful owner is in here as well, submerged and not aware. He doesn’t know I’m subletting, and nobody should tell him as there’s a chance he could expel me, and no one wants that, especially me.”
“You need to get to the point,” Nelson said, looking frustrated.
The creature reached out as if to pat Nelson on the back. Lou’s neighbor shied away from the gesture. “Yes, very well. I’ve worn out the suspense with this little scene.” He bowed with great flourish. “I am the Wizard Itzel.”
“And do you practice ‘pretzel’ magic?” Hugo snickered.
Now wasn’t the time for lame humor. Lou side-kicked his sneaker.
Hugo sent her a hurt look, but complied, making his expression slightly more serious. It wasn’t a good fit for him. She decided his perpetual grin was preferable to the constipated look he now sported and regretted putting him in his place.
“No, my magic is not specialized. As I said, I am the Wizard Itzel. Please adhere to including my title when you address me by name. It’s a courtesy I insist my fellow magic beings employ.”
“We’re not magic, we’re mortal,” Nelson said.
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