by Mike Thayer
“Good morning, sunshine!” my dad said, briefly glancing up from draining the bacon grease into an empty tin can.
“Good morning,” my mom croaked.
“Sleepy mommy. Go to sleepy, mommy,” the twins yelled.
My dad made up a plate of food and set it down at my mom’s spot at the table before he even noticed my mom’s condition. “Are you okay, honey?”
“I’m wonderful,” my mom said, grabbing her plate of food and taking it to the couch, where she slumped down. “Enjoy the game. Don’t worry about me. The twins will keep me company.”
My dad loved and took care of my mom, but she’d have to be in worse shape than slightly groggy for him to miss a game when he had tickets. Common cold, headache, even the flu wouldn’t have been enough. Pneumonia was a maybe.
“You’re a trooper, my love,” my dad said, walking over to my mom and giving her a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll make it up to you. Danny, you almost ready? We need to be heading out.”
My text message had come just in time. I’d gotten a reply from my dad when Mr. Wilding was discussing the method his grandfather Merle Wilding had used to congeal the potato scraps into a patty and then eventually a Tater Tot. I’d managed to avoid Jaxson the rest of the afternoon, mainly because I had his and Braxlynn’s schedules memorized for just this reason. I wasn’t looking forward to that one eventually catching up to me, but I had a Shoebox Game to worry about first.
While seeing the ISU Bengals was a far cry from going to an NFL game in Texas, it took less time to drive, park, and walk to the stadium than it took to just get onto the freeway in Houston. The stadium was small enough that I was able to easily spot Zak and his family up in one of the box seats.
Before settling in, I pulled up my pre-drafted message entitled Grand Shadow Team: Cheaters Among Us. I scanned the list of thirty recipients we’d handpicked as Shoebox Game participants who’d proven they wouldn’t squeal back to Noah. With a tap of the screen the message was sent. The wheels were in motion.
The game was a good one, but it was hard to focus with the Shoebox Game on my mind. The score was tied during the last few minutes of the fourth quarter, and I couldn’t help but repeatedly glance at my phone and cross my fingers that it wouldn’t head to overtime. The opposing team drove the length of the field and set up for a game-winning field goal. With the crowd cheering wildly, I’m pretty sure I was the only ISU fan that was actually rooting for them to lose, and lose they did. The ball sailed through the uprights and gave the Weber State Wildcats a three-point victory.
My dad cursed under his breath but was happy when I told him how much I had enjoyed the game. Zak texted me to wish me luck and let me know that he’d be pretty late to the Shoebox Game since his dad was taking him to meet some of the players. That was fine. Zak’s part in this plan was over. It was up to me and Freddie now. The roads were pretty busy getting home, but it was only the difference of five or ten minutes. Not exactly Houston traffic.
We walked back into the house to a war zone of toys, stuffed animals, and couch cushions. Bags of cereal were dumped all over the carpet. My mom was passed out on the couch, and my sisters’ mischievous laughter echoed from upstairs.
“Oh dear,” my dad said. “Danny, can you start cleaning this up? I’ll get your mother to bed.”
I checked my phone. I had twenty minutes before the Shoebox Game started. It would take me five minutes to bike to the park if I hustled. “Sure, Dad.” I launched into a cleaning frenzy that would put Mary Poppins to shame, and on a discard day to boot. By the time I had things somewhat back to normal, I had eight minutes to get to the park.
“Wow, nice job, son,” my dad said, inspecting my handiwork.
“Thanks, Dad. Hey, I know it might be a bad time, but a bunch of kids from school are meeting at the park right now for a big game, and I was wondering if I could go.”
“The park? That’s great. Better than you being cooped up playing video games or something. I’d give you a ride, but I need to keep one eye on the twins and another on your mother. Actually, probably both eyes on the twins.”
“Thanks, Dad. No problem. I’ll ride my bike.”
I rushed out to the garage, hopped on my bike, and raced down the street. It was a gorgeous fall day. I zipped through the streets and made my way out to the river, the autumn wind whooshing past my ears. Even though it was a discard day, I was still nervous, and the bike ride felt good to burn off some of my anxious energy. I glanced back and saw a couple more kids on bikes behind me, no doubt hurrying to get to the Shoebox Game as well. I made good time getting to the park and turned the final corner, only to slam on my brakes. I bucked off my seat and almost flew over my handlebars as my bike skidded to a stop in the gravel. Jaxson stood in the center of the path.
“Care to read my mind, Texas turd?” Jaxson said, as two of his henchmen came up behind me, blocking my retreat. I was surrounded.
I swallowed hard. I knew I’d have to confront Jaxson sooner or later, but this was sooner than sooner. I didn’t have much time left to get to the Shoebox Game, and once the game started, you couldn’t join late.
“I don’t know what’s on your mind, but can I please get past? I’ve got to get to a game.”
Jaxson made a buzzer sound effect. “Wrong answer. Give me your phone, turd.”
“Look, man, I can’t give you my phone, but I didn’t take a picture of Braxlynn. I swear to you.”
“Then why won’t you show me your phone?” Jaxson took a step toward me. I didn’t have time for this. If I gave him my phone, there was no telling what he would do with it. If I didn’t give him my phone, he might just take it by force. If I could get to the clearing with the other gamers, there’d be enough kids to step in and stop this. I ran away from him once, I could do it again.
“Fine.” I put my hands up. “I’ll show you my phone, but when you find nothing, you have to give it right back.” I dismounted from my bike and very slowly set it down. I’d have to do this quick. As I put the bike on the ground, I grabbed a handful of gravel and flung it in Jaxson’s face. He flinched backward, and I dashed in the direction of the clearing where the other gamers were gathered. I could do this—
I slammed into the dirt, flattened by what felt like a pickup truck. I wheezed, my lungs paralyzed from the impact. I gulped for air, Jaxson’s voice filling my ears. “You think you’re clever? Read my mind and tell me what happens next.”
He flipped me over and put his knee on my chest, making it even harder to jump-start my breathing. My lungs would collapse. I’d never breathe again. Jaxson’s rage and carelessness would kill me right here and now.
I finally, somehow, took a rasping, shuddering breath.
“C’mon, Texas turd stain. Read my mind.”
I should have said something like, I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t talk to you or Braxlynn ever again, oh great Jaxson, king of Snake River Middle School. But it didn’t really matter with kids like Jaxson. I had thrown gravel in his face, run from him twice, and denied him looking at my phone two days in row. He wasn’t going to just let me off the hook. In situations like this, Discard Danny went down in a blaze of glory.
“It’s hard to do when there’s nothing there … Bozo the Brainless.”
Jaxson paused, his face twisted in a mix of surprise and rage, most likely wondering how I knew what his brother had called him at the escape room in front of Braxlynn … then he went nuclear. He bellowed like a madman and pummeled me with heavy, hard fists. He stood up, and I curled in like an armadillo as kicks pelted my body. There was no one to pull him off me this time. Sometime during the beating I must have blacked out, because by the time I opened my eyes, Jaxson and his goons were gone … with the front wheel of my bike, apparently.
I grunted and gingerly sat up. My head swam and throbbed like my heart was now lodged in my skull. I sighed but stopped short, a shooting pain lancing through my ribs like the ghost of Jaxson was still getting in shots.
“What
the deuce?” I said, looking down at the crotch of my pants, which was wet. “Don’t tell me I…” I trailed off as I saw my discarded water bottle. How very classy of Jaxson and his buddies. I looked around for my phone and finally saw it discarded in the dirt some twenty feet away.
I looked at the time. “No, no, no.” I gritted my teeth and struggled to my feet. I left my bike and hobbled down the trail to the Shoebox Game as fast as my busted-up body would take me. Noah’s taunting voice echoed from the trees as I approached the designated spot. A huge crowd filled the hidden clearing, a perfect place for a secret gathering. About twenty kids were still in the game with huddles of people around each of them looking over their shoulders. Freddie was still in it, but so were six of Noah’s cheaters.
I limped over to Freddie, who saw me out of the corner of her eye but didn’t look over. “Where have you been? It’s a disaster.” Freddie’s fingers blitzed over her phone, and she sounded on the verge of tears until she glanced in my direction and did a double take. “Holy fish farts and rat boogers, what happened to you? Are you okay?”
I wiped some blood from my nose, which I just now noticed was bleeding. “Who, me? I’m great. Just thought I’d go play with Jaxson and his buddies on the way over. I’m not late, am I?”
“Danny, take a seat or something.” Freddie put her phone down to help me get settled against a tree. “Just chill for a second and let me focus.”
I stole a glance at Freddie’s screen. She was doing well with six kills and two lives left and looked to have a little squad of her own as they pushed their way to Fangthorn Peak. Her improvised shadow team, however, turned on Freddie before she even had a chance to threaten SpudMasterFlex and his cheater punks. It was hard to blame them too much. It was supposed to be an every-man-for-himself game after all. Eventually they’d have to turn on each other, and without someone to watch her back, Freddie had to fight off both SpudMasterFlex’s crew and part of her own. Her last death came at the business end of a two-hundred-yard snipe from SpudMasterFlex. She ended up placing eighth overall.
Noah stood on top of a picnic table, grabbed the shoebox, and roared in victory. Half the crowd started to boo and a few frustrated kids yelled for their money back, but no one had the guts to make a move. The reaction from the gamers only seemed to make Noah’s smile grow wider.
“We need to get you to a hospital or something,” Freddie said, putting her phone down and inspecting my battered face. I knew how much winning this Shoebox Game had meant to Freddie. I knew she was dying on the inside, but for her to bottle it all up and look after me just showed how good of a friend she really was.
“I’m fine, Freddie. It looks worse than it is.”
“Have you seen what it looks like?” she said, eyebrows rising.
“Uh, no, actually.”
“Pleasure doing business with ya, puke stain,” Noah said to Freddie as he walked by, shoebox under one arm and a trail of his cronies in his wake. “I would tell you to stick to solving escape rooms, but I enjoy taking your money too much. I truly hope to see you again next year … if you can scrounge together enough money.”
Freddie stood up and took two steps toward Noah, her nostrils flaring like an enraged bull ready to charge. “You’re a cheating, snot-gargling dork face. And half this group knows it! Come play me online, and I will wash the floor with your blood and use your skull for a mop bucket.”
Noah actually took a step back at this last comment. “Whatever, psycho,” Noah said, warily eyeing Freddie as he retreated to the trees.
“Wow,” I managed. She wasn’t kidding about this epically courageous thing. “Savage.”
Freddie turned to me, shaking and with tears welling in her eyes. “I can’t believe that mold-sniffing turd nugget got the last laugh. He won again, Danny. We … lost.”
I nodded slowly. She was right. I had never been beaten so thoroughly and completely in my entire life. Not only did I fail to get the information I would need to pull off a sticky-day victory, but I had no idea how I was going to get past Jaxson to even play in the Shoebox Game. Heck, my football team had even lost.
Maybe if I hadn’t run my mouth to Jaxson, I could have made it to the Shoebox Game on time, but I hadn’t even tried. Discard Danny just did his thing yet again. After robbing Freddie of her moment at the escape room, I had vowed to never let her down again, and yet here I was.
I turned and spat a loogie of blood onto the grass, thankful I had the double day to fix my mistakes and terrified because I had no friggin’ clue how I was actually going to do it.
CHAPTER 27
YIN AND YANG
(Discard Saturday—Oct. 16th)
I peered over the steering wheel of my parents’ minivan, headlights illuminating a dark gravel road on the edge of town. I saw a sign for the rock quarry and kept driving, trying my best to keep the car straight. I had waited until just after eleven o’clock for my little joyride for several reasons. One, I wouldn’t be able to “borrow” my parents’ car until they were asleep. Two, fewer people on the road meant that I might actually reach my destination without someone noticing me and calling the cops. And three, in less than an hour, at midnight, no matter what I was doing (asleep or wide awake) the double day would work its magic, and I would find myself waking up on sticky Saturday. That way I didn’t have to worry about making my way back home or the fallout from my parents freaking out if they happened to find me and the car missing.
I parked the van next to the quarry’s perimeter chain-link fence and opened the trunk. I removed a large backpack and a big pair of bolt cutters, which I used to snip an opening in the fence. The backpack (its contents clinking and clanking) probably weighed half as much as I did and would have been difficult to carry even without my bruises from earlier in the day. My parents hadn’t really accepted the excuse that I had crashed my bike into a tree, but I didn’t want to spend the evening in a battle between my parents and Jaxson’s, so I stuck to my story.
I walked around the quarry for a while until I found the biggest pit and gingerly lowered my backpack to the ground. I unzipped it and took out a cup of my mom’s fine china. I tossed it over the edge of the pit and watched it fall until it shattered against a boulder with a satisfying crash. I threw another cup and Frisbeed out a plate before calling Zak.
“Hello,” Zak said groggily.
“Hey, man.” Crash.
“Dude, it’s like the middle of the night.”
“No,” I said, launching a bowl end over end into the night air. “It’s eleven forty-seven.”
“Are you outside?” Zak asked, turning on a lamp and sitting up. “What the heck are you doing … wait. It’s still discard Saturday, isn’t it?”
“Yep.” Smash. “I took my parents’ car down to the quarry to blow off a little steam and smash some stuff. I would have invited you, but something tells me you would have said no.”
“What makes you say that?” Zak said, yawning.
“Uh, you, actually. I’ve asked you before. You said no. We’ve been over this, Zak. You’re always along for the ride, but you’re much more comfortable with Sticky Danny’s speed.”
Zak rubbed his face with both hands. “Well, considering that’s the only Danny I actually know, I’d say that isn’t a bad thing. And for the record, I think I’ve gotten into a sensible amount of mischief in my time, thank you very much. I apologize if stealing a car, breaking into a quarry, and destroying valuables is just slightly over the line for me. Every time I meet Discard Danny it’s like it’s the first time for me, by the way. So what’s going on?”
I pulled out a Snickers bar, unwrapped it, and took a bite. “I don’t know how I’m going to pull it off tomorrow. I need to go to the game with my dad, and there’s no way to stop the twins from destroying the house. At the very most I will have about ten minutes to make it to the Shoebox Game, I have no one to give me a ride to the park because my mom is sick, and I have no way of knowing where Jaxson’s buddies started following me.”<
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“Can you go a different way or something?” Zak asked.
“Not with the time crunch. I was looking it up on Google Maps and couldn’t really see a different route out there that I could take in time. You sure you can’t get home any earlier?”
Zak clicked his tongue. “No, man. I didn’t get home until like an hour after the game. I could try shooting Jaxson a text in the morning, but I’m not sure what good it would do. We know each other, but we’re not friends.”
I grabbed a stack of plates and spun them out into the air one after another. “So do I even try to go? Did you see my pic on Duds today? It has more comments than the last ten posts put together.”
“You saw that, huh?” Zak said, scratching the back of his neck.
“Uh, yeah, Zak. I saw that.” After I’d dragged myself home from the Shoebox Game, I checked Dud Spuds and was greeted with a pic of me unconscious in the dirt next to my bike with the caption Probably should have kept his training wheels on a little bit longer. Got scared, peed his pants, fell down, got a boo-boo.
“I’ve got an idea,” Zak said tentatively. “You won’t have to face Jaxson and Noah won’t win, but you aren’t going to like it.”
“Sounds pretty good so far. I’m listening.”
“You familiar with something called a scorched-earth strategy?”
I was familiar with the term. It had come up a few times in social studies when talking about conflicts like the Civil War and World War II. When an army withdrew from or advanced through a location it would sometimes burn everything useful to the ground so the pursuing enemy would be left with nothing. Scorched Earth was also the name of one of my favorite old-school computer games, which was probably why I actually remembered the term.
“You’re saying if I can’t win the Shoebox Game that I destroy it?”
Zak shrugged. “It’s an option. One anonymous phone call to someone like Noah’s dad with the details of the Shoebox Game and the whole thing would go up in smoke. You’d probably get a lot of kids in trouble, but if you made the phone call early enough then no one would question why you didn’t show. You could probably even make up an excuse for Freddie to stay home. Live to fight another day.”