Coach Jackson now pointed directly at Mrs. Garcia. “You will not interfere with my students!”
This would be a great time to slink away. Peter knew this idea was solid, but it could not overcome his desire to stay and see how this all ended.
“Peter, are you late to Coach Jackson’s class?” Mrs. Garcia asked calmly.
Peter looked to Coach Jackson, who scowled at him, and replied, “No, ma’am. I’m going to biology.”
Mrs. Garcia turned to Coach Jackson. “There. It’s all settled. Peter can go to class and the rest of us can get back to what we are supposed to be doing: teaching.”
Peter could not spell the word ‘impugned’ if he tried—and he had, several times, in his own English class—but the look on Coach Jackson’s face made him think of that word. Mrs. Garcia had impugned what Coach Jackson felt was his absolute authority. As she calmly turned and shut her door and Coach Jackson’s attention settled solely on him, Peter deliberately lowered his gaze, spun around and began fast-walking to biology class.
He could not see Coach Jackson’s face—he did not want to see Coach Jackson’s face—but he knew he had made an enemy for life. As his sneakers squeaked, his mind buzzed with a number of troubling thoughts. What would Coach Jackson do to get even? How did he get into these situations? Yes, he had been late but not on purpose. And, very much related, what had happened over the past day and why could he not remember it?
***
Later that day, Peter sat on his bed and stared at his closet. Eli and Matt were outside shooting cans with a BB gun. Peter could hear them chattering among the plinks of the BBs finding their targets. The once-again flowing river filled any silences between their conversation or the impact of the BBs. It all felt very natural. It felt like home.
Good for Eli, Peter thought. Maybe getting Matt back would make him a little easier to get along with. At least for Peter, Eli had ceased to be fun several years ago—so focused and determined on leaving that he did not have any time for anything else. Peter frowned. But what would happen if Irene broke up with her college guy?
Using only his feet, Peter shrugged and squeezed his way out of both his socks. Continuing to stare at the white door of his closet, he leaned down, grabbed both his now very dirty socks, and threw them toward the corner next to the closet where a pile of dirty clothes already sat.
Now what? There were not many options for Peter. He was not welcome outside with Eli and Matt as they were making up for lost time and considered him a little kid. His dad was off somewhere, probably at the co-op office. He did not have any homework, at least any he felt compelled to do. He had nowhere else to go besides the river, where he used to spend hours and hours exploring, but the river now reminded Peter of Orb.
Peter’s world at this point centered around the alien sphere in his closet. Orb had in many ways saved Peter’s home, his family. Orb had also put him in harm’s way. Now Orb wanted, no, insisted, that Peter go with him again to retrieve his final receptacle. Orb continued to insist on complete secrecy, which meant that Peter would be caught between his natural impulses to be truthful and threatened repercussions if he shared his plight.
Orb was a giant sun and Peter was a small planet trapped in the grip of that sun’s gravitational pull.
Peter got up, walked over, and opened the door then sat down heavily and cleared the debris away from the bottom of his closet until he could see most of Orb, still dark, sitting atop a large pair of Eli’s old tennis shoes. Peter was the recipient of all things old and used from Eli, including his smelly shoes. Peter wondered if this pair still stank and, if it did, whether the odor had any effect on Orb.
Peter leaned in closer. “Orb? You must have been awake yesterday. You did something to us. I can’t remember much of anything.”
Peter extended his index finger and pushed on Orb, who wobbled but remained dark.
“Orb? Stop playing around. Talk to me.”
There was no reaction.
“What did you do, Orb?”
***
That night Peter fought to stay awake to reread one of his favorite books. It was part of a series about a young wolf that struggled to survive in a world increasingly full of humans. It made him a little sad, which then made him feel guilty. Big Ed’s grandfather, Peter’s great-great-grandfather, had famously killed a number of wolves when he first settled on this land. The wolves had killed his sheep, and his grandfather could not abide that. The guilt kept Peter from falling fully asleep and his mind wrestled with what he would have done in his great-great-grandfather’s place.
“Do not worry, Peter. The wolves persist. There is a small pack not far from here that has managed to avoid people and hunts only small animals in the forest. Wolves are very adaptable.”
Peter lay in his bed; his book lay open across his chest. He had fallen asleep trying to read his book. It was dark outside in what was now the middle of the night. His reading lamp cast a small cone of light across his face and, as he groggily awakened, he wondered who had been talking to him. Suddenly he realized that there was more light in the room than his lamp could produce.
Peter sat up, fumbling to put his book down at his side, just as Orb finished rising from beneath the floor to hover next to Peter’s bed. Peter, bathed in red light, could not find words.
“You were talking in your sleep about the wolves, Peter. I was not intruding on your thoughts.”
Peter nodded then found his voice. “How did you come up from under the floor?”
“I have been preparing for our departure and thought it wise to establish a safe location in the event our perimeter was breached.”
Peter’s mind chewed on these words. His gaze then went to the closet.
“You weren’t really in the closet?”
“No, you were speaking to what you call a dummy. A fake version of me.”
“And if something else, like Cube, was reading my mind it would have thought you were in the closet?”
“Yes.”
Peter nodded. It made sense as plans go. It also made him feel a little bit used and a lot like a piece of bait.
“When did you start moving around by yourself?”
“With the addition of the other five receptacles and the time to recharge, I now have full mobility. I apologize for altering your senses, as well as the senses of your father and brother, for a span last night and this morning. I thought it best for the preparations as well as our collective protection.”
So, Peter thought, Orb volunteered that he had done something to them. Peter sensed that this was all Orb would say on the topic and that, as always, Orb would feel no guilt or remorse at how he impacted the lives of others. Orb was not human. Other than anxiety over reuniting with his receptacles and gratitude that may or may not be authentic, Orb displayed no emotion. Peter thought about asking Orb more about what kind of alterations he had performed, but then realized that there was no point. Orb was not going to say anything Peter would understand, nor would he share information he wanted to keep secret. Orb then demonstrated his new power by moving slowly across the bed, a foot above the tangled sheets, before settling on Peter’s spare pillow. The small, blonde hairs on Peter’s arms and legs stood slightly as Orb passed, then they fell back, replaced by a wave of goosebumps that Peter tried to control by rubbing his hands across his skin.
Peter shifted in his sheets so that Orb sat directly in front of him. “Does that mean you don’t need me to go with you now?”
“No, Peter, I very much need your help. In fact, the situation has escalated somewhat since you saw me power down.”
Peter, wary, pushed himself up and stood by his bed. “Escalated how?”
“Cube has gathered additional forces to protect my last receptacle. We must match this increase with our own.”
Peter scratched at the leg of his gym shorts. “You mean you are going to call additional guardians to meet us in Costa Rica?”
“Yes, and we are also going to bring additional
allies with us.”
Peter’s gaze narrowed. “What additional allies?”
Orb pulsed briefly. “Those staring in your window, to start.”
Peter looked up to his window and saw, through Orb’s red illumination, Eli and Matt staring in at him.
***
Minutes later all three were sitting in Peter’s room in a triangle of sorts with Orb in the middle. Peter tried his best to explain his history with Orb, but Eli and Matt kept interrupting.
“Tell me again how long this has been going on,” demanded Eli.
Peter did his best, but Eli was angry. Peter could not tell if Eli was angrier because he had been kept out of the secret or because of all the changes Orb had caused in their lives. Eli’s voice rose with each new revelation, and it was good that Big Ed slept so soundly.
“All this stuff with the river, the governor, Dad’s new job—it was all because of this?” Eli pointed to Orb, both incredulous and angry.
Eli’s questions caused Peter to ask some of his own—but only in his own head. What would have happened if Eli had been the one to find Orb? Would Eli have gone along with Orb’s plans or would he have fought him every step of the way?
Many more rounds of questions later, things finally settled down to the point that Peter could ask Orb questions.
“So, despite everything you told me about needing to keep all this a secret, we are now telling Eli and Matt everything because you need a larger army?”
“Yes.”
“Didn’t you say that once more than one person knows about something it’s no longer a secret?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have anything to say besides yes?”
Orb appeared to consider the question for a moment before answering. “Yes, there is much more to say and, no, I do not like sharing our secret with others, but we have no choice. We will mitigate the exposure of the secret by leaving as quickly as possible.”
Eli leaned in and poked at Orb’s side with the index finger of his right hand. “We haven’t agreed to do anything. We still don’t know what you are or why we would want to help you. We are going to need a lot more information before we agree to do anything.”
Eli sat back and crossed his arms, a smug look on his face.
“If you do not help me you will soon have no choices and no future. Your world—already deteriorating rapidly--will remain under the full control of Cube, and none of your questions will mean anything.”
Eli’s smug look wavered a little. “And you need me because I’m so smart and wonderful?”
“I need you because Peter already knows the secrets and you, despite how you carry yourself, are loyal to Peter. Matt, despite his hormone-induced transgressions with the girl called Irene, is loyal to you. Loyalty is paramount if we are to succeed.”
Eli for once had nothing to say. He turned to Matt, who continued to look confused about everything. Matt mumbled “hormone-induced transgressions” to himself.
“We will also need the help of this Irene, who will be loyal due to her love of Matt, which surpasses her temporary infatuation with the older boy and his new car.”
Matt’s eyes widened. “She loves me? Loves me, loves me? Are you sure?”
Eli reached across Orb to slap Matt on his shoulder. “Why do you think she called you this afternoon, moron?”
Matt beamed, his freckles glowing in the red light of Orb, before Eli again reached across and hit him on the shoulder. “Just don’t let it go to your head this time, Matt. You don’t have to spend every waking minute with her.”
If Matt felt or heard Eli it was not obvious. Matt instead continued to stare at Orb, waiting for him to provide confirmation of Irene’s love.
Orb finally provided confirmation. “Yes, Matt. Irene loves you. My word is my bond.”
Peter, having heard that particular phrase numerous times in reply to any question, almost said “my word is my bond” along with Orb. He had restrained himself because another, much more important thought occurred to him. “Orb, I know I already asked you to stay out of the minds of my family, but please also now stay out of the minds of Matt and Irene.”
“Agreed. My word is my bond.”
Matt turned to Peter. “Wait, you mean Orb has been able to read my mind?”
Peter nodded. “Yes, everything you have done or even thought up until about five seconds ago.”
“And when did you ban him from my mind?” Eli asked.
“A few days ago,” Peter replied.
Peter watched as Matt and Eli both thought back through all they had ever done or said.
Matt immediately thought of the time he had gotten up early to steal money from his mother’s purse. He slunk down the hallway before dawn, floorboards creaking, and found her purse slung over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. Holding his breath and jumping at every noise—real or imagined—he groped through the contents until he found his mother’s large leather change pouch at the bottom.
Clutching the pouch closely, he slunk to the bathroom and risked turning on the light—a bare bulb—above the porcelain sink. He unclipped the pouch and used his finger to greedily probe through the contents. While there were a number of coins, the only paper money was a five-dollar bill. Refusing to believe what he saw, he put the rubber stopper in the drain of the sink and slowly poured out the contents of the pouch into the basin. A few sad moments later he confirmed what he already knew.
Now at risk of being caught for stealing what amounted to nothing, he quickly but carefully grabbed the coins out of the sink and put them back into the pouch. He stared for a moment at the folded-over five-dollar bill, then added it to the coins and clipped the pouch shut.
He turned off the light and gave his eyes a moment to adjust, then opened the door and slunk back to the kitchen. He opened his mother’s purse and slid the coin pouch back to the bottom. That was it. His chance to buy something to impress Irene was gone. His father wisely slept with his wallet on the nightstand. Matt had already spent what little money he had on Irene. There were plenty of odd jobs he could do to try and make money, but young labor was cheap and plentiful and it would take weeks, maybe months, to save enough to buy something worthy of Irene.
As he pulled his hand back out of the purse his hand touched on something. A pocket? He stopped and looked around. The house was still quiet.
He retreated again to the bathroom, this time with the entire purse, closed the door and clicked on the light. He opened the purse wide and saw that there was indeed a small pocket with a zipper atop sewn to the inside of the fabric purse. He balanced the purse on the edge of the sink and unzipped the pocket.
Moments later he held two crisp fifty-dollar bills in his hand. One hundred dollars! He stared at the mirror with the money clenched in his hand and did not like what he saw. His eyes were lit up with greed as they stared at the bills while his mother’s pilfered purse sat below.
He paused, unsure of his next step. Over the next couple of minutes he alternated between putting the money back and giving up on his quest to impress Irene or going the opposite direction—taking all of the money and then, when the theft was eventually noticed, coming up with a story about how he had seen a drifter lurking around the back of their house the week before.
Matt eventually split the difference and took one of the bills. He put the other back in his mother’s purse, which he returned to its spot on the back of the chair in the kitchen. That day he snuck out of school at lunch and ran to a small nearby store that sold a variety of gifts, including jewelry. He bought Irene a sparkling, fake diamond bracelet, which she unfortunately did not like. A couple of days later he returned home to find his mother crying at their kitchen table. The money had been meant for food for his father’s surprise fiftieth birthday party. A party for which she had scrimped and saved for over a year.
Matt had been overwhelmed with disgust and self-loathing. He broke down and told his mother what he had done, and although she forgave him she never ag
ain looked at him the same way.
Now, Peter saw the torment in Matt’s eyes and completely understood the feeling. Peter looked to Eli and found that, for once, he had nothing to say.
Eli’s mind was stuck in his own memory of self-loathing.
He was in their main field with Big Ed, crouching down transplanting seedlings of rice in a backbreaking, time-consuming practice they repeated each year in the flooded field. Peter had, per usual, claimed to need something from inside the house and slunk off—likely never to return. Eli’s anger at Peter, and the lack of reaction from Big Ed, prompted him to push an idea that he knew in advance would go nowhere.
“Dad, have you ever thought about selling this place?”
Big Ed stood up and grabbed at a pain in his lower back. He smiled at his son, knowing full well that he too had harbored thoughts about doing something else in the midst of planting season.
“No, Eli. I know you hate planting—I don’t love it either—but it’ll all be worth it in three or four months when we get to harvest.”
Eli scowled in return. “And Peter? He’s the shortest one of us. Why isn’t he out here helping?”
“Your brother is still little, Eli. He’ll get there.”
“Peter is lazy.”
Eli had just crossed a line with Big Ed. One did not speak ill of others. One NEVER spoke ill of a family member. All pretense of good will abruptly evaporated.
“Why don’t you concentrate on planting and leave Peter to me.”
Eli threw his handful of seedlings to the flooded field below. “That’s great, Dad. Peter’s so helpful. You’re doing a great job.”
Big Ed’s jaw clenched, sending ripples amongst the muscles alongside it. They had all had a tough couple of years. Big Ed had tolerated any number of things: laziness, acting out and selfishness. He did this because they needed each other now more than ever. He had to hope that they would one day come out the other side of this situation and find at least some level of happiness.
But deliberate defiance and personal attacks? No. That was not going to happen.
“Pick up the seedlings and get back to work, Eli. I’m not asking you.”
The Promise of the Orb Page 9