by M. A. Torres
The mall was a sea of activity, with shoppers of all ages rushing back and forth in all directions. Christmas music filled the air and the gleam and color of Christmas garlands hung from every pillar.
Kevin and his family had stood in the Santa line for hours, it seemed, but they were nearing the front. There was just one family ahead of them—a family with twin one-year-olds.
The parents were struggling to keep their twins upon Santa’s lap long enough to take a picture, but the twins were having none of it. The boy cried and arched his back, slipping off Santa’s thigh every time they placed him on. His twin sister was sitting on Santa’s opposite thigh, staring up at him with a terrified frown upon her face.
Santa himself looked flustered, with the twin boy screaming in his right ear and the twin girl now screaming in his left. He stared up at the parents with pleading eyes, but they were oblivious. They continued the struggle to keep their terrified children upon his lap. The frightened boy arched and swung his arms, slapping Santa’s glasses off his face.
“Oh Johnny, that’s not nice,” his mother said.
The angry boy flailed his arms again, poking Santa in his eye. Santa flinched away, but now his face was next to the baby girl on his left, who took a page out of her brother’s book and slapped him. Santa pulled back, away from the relentless twin attack, his right eye shut and watering.
Finally, the parents wizened, and pulled their vicious twins off his lap. One of Santa’s elves rushed and picked his glasses off the floor. He waited for big red jolly to compose himself before handing them back.
Ms. Martinez cringed as they carried the angry, wailing twins past them. Kevin hoped Santa wouldn’t quit and rush out of the mall before Tara could present him with her letter.
“Mommy, can Kevin come up and sit with me?” she asked.
“Wait, what?” asked Kevin.
“Oh, yes, that’s a great idea!” answered Ms. Martinez.
“No, Mom, it’s not.” Kevin looked at Tara. “Tara, Santa is tired. The last thing he needs is a grown kid sitting on his lap.”
“Oh, please?” she begged.
Kevin looked at his mom, who stared back at him with pleading eyes.
Tara clasped Kevin’s leg. “Pleeease.”
Kevin sighed. “Okay!”
Tara jumped up and down and clapped her hands. Ms. Martinez smiled and readied her cell phone. Kevin led Tara up to Santa, whose right eye was red, watery, and swollen. Santa looked at her with a smile of relief.
Tara handed him an envelope. “Here’s my letter, Santa. Thank you for getting me my vintage Barbie Dream House last year; I’m still using it almost every day. I didn’t ask for anything vintage this year, so you might have an easier time finding my gift.”
Santa nodded. “Wow, I’m thrilled you liked your gift! And you’re right, I had a tough time finding it, but you were very good last year, so I had to put in the extra effort.”
Tara smiled and sat on Santa’s left thigh. Kevin approached and stood to his right.
“Kevin, aren’t you going to sit on Santa’s lap?” Tara asked.
“What?”
Kevin and Santa exchanged a worried glance.
“Tara, I’m too big and heavy, I don’t want to hurt Santa.”
“Oh, you won’t hurt him, right, Santa?”
Santa looked at Kevin, grinning helplessly. “I suppose not...”
Ms. Martinez smiled and raised her phone. “Yes, Kevin, it will be fun. Sit on Santa’s lap!”
Kevin tried his best not to roll his eyes. He sat on Santa’s right thigh.
“Okay, smile!” said the photographer as Ms. Martinez took photos of her own.
Kevin smiled and hoped the ordeal would soon be over. He glanced at the crowd, and spotted the seventh-grade football players, Jimmy Smith, Rodney Jones, and Joe Villa approaching from the right. They would soon cross the Santa section, and Kevin hoped to be off his lap by then.
“Okay, take the picture!” Kevin urged, a hint of desperation in his voice.
But the photographer was still messing with the camera.
“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon already!” Kevin urged.
The photographer finally fixed his issues and placed his camera into position. “Ready? Everyone give me a big smile!”
Kevin smiled as best he could. “Never say I don’t love you, Tara,” he mumbled through his fake grin.
Tara smiled.
“Excellent... one more!”
The football players reached the Santa section. Rodney Jones was still on crutches and was the first to spot Kevin. His eyes widened, and an enormous smile stretched across his face. He tapped Jimmy with his crutch and gestured towards Kevin. The football players burst into laughter. Joe Villa held his stomach and pointed in his direction.
“Okay! We’re all done!” informed the photographer.
Kevin jumped off Santa’s lap as quickly as possible, took Tara by the hand, and led her to their mother. He pretended not to notice the football players, but their mocking gestures were not lost in his periphery.
“See? Now that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Ms. Martinez asked.
“No, Mom, it wasn’t,” he lied.
Tara leaned and gave his waist a big, tight hug, which made the entire ordeal worth it.
“Okay, okay.”
The ride home was slow, the streets thick with fog and falling snow. Flashing ambulances were stationed at the Wakefield Nursing Home roundabout, and Kevin wondered how Jey’s Pops was doing. He decided he would visit him in the coming days.
Minutes later, they turned into their cul-de-sac. Kevin noticed Old Em’s home decorated with colorful twinkling Christmas lights. A large Santa animatronic stood as the centerpiece, waving its hand at the passersby. The other homes were also adorned, but not as elaborate as Old Em’s.
As they drove into their driveway, they noticed someone sitting by their front door.
“Kevin, is that one of your friends?”
Kevin squinted. The person wore a thick, blue hoodie over his head. The hoodie looked familiar—it was the one Kevin had gifted Zander a few weeks past.
“He looks your age,” Ms. Martinez observed as she opened the car door.
Kevin exited his car and walked up his walkway. The hooded kid looked up—it was Zander.
“Hey, man,” he said as he stood.
“What do you want?” Kevin said sternly.
“I need to talk to you, man. I saw something horrible.”
Before Kevin could respond, his mom and sister were there.
“Is this one of your friends, Kevin?”
“He was just leaving, Mom,” he said.
“Oh, okay... Well, can you at least open the door for me?”
Kevin took the keys and opened their front door, then closed it behind them.
“What do you mean, you saw something horrible?”
“I saw some kids playing with a mirror, then roots came out of it and turned them into branches—just like we saw in fairyland!”
“What? Where?”
“Down in an abandoned building on my side of town! I came as quickly as I could! This stuff is crossing over, just like Jey said!”
“Who was there? Who were those kids?”
“I think they were high schoolers. They were wearing white dress shirts under black vests. The vests had a logo of a white face on them. They said they were ‘feeding Vengara!’”
Vengara... that name again!
Kevin thought for a bit. Before he could respond, Kevin’s mother was at the door.
“Kevin, dinner is ready. Want to ask your friend if he wants to stay?”
“I don’t think...”
“Okay!” interrupted Zander.
Minutes later, they were sitting at the table, eating lasagna. Zander was stuffing his mouth like a ravenous animal—filling it to the brim and chewing feverously with his mouth open. His lips were dirty with cheese and tomato sauce, but he kept on. Kevin froze and could do nothing but stare w
ith disgust.
Tara watched him too, her mouth gaping and a look of disbelief in her eyes. A second later, a smile stretched across her face. “You eat like a pig!”
“Tara! Don’t be rude,” scolded Ms. Martinez.
“Huh?” Zander looked up, wide-eyed. Then he took a napkin and cleaned his mouth. “Sorry, this is just so good.”
“I’m glad someone likes my food,” mentioned Ms. Martinez, shooting Kevin a side glance.
“You don’t like this?” Zander asked Kevin.
“I do; it’s the spaghetti I don’t like.”
“So, Zander, why haven’t we seen you before? Are you new to the school?” asked Ms. Martinez.
“I’m not new. I live far from here, though. I live on the south side of the tracks.” Zander’s attention turned to the television broadcast in the living room.
‘Police are still searching for the missing Wakefield Middle School secretary, Barbara Chambers, who disappeared last week...’
“Oh, that’s far. Is someone coming to pick you up?” followed Ms. Martinez, breaking Zander’s focus.
“Huh?”
“Is someone coming to take you home?”
“No. I’ll walk home.”
“You can’t walk home in this weather! I can give you a ride.”
“No, it’s okay. I’ll walk home. I still have things to do.” Zander stood. “I have to leave.”
Zander walked to the front door. Ms. Martinez gave Kevin a puzzled look. Kevin stood and followed him. They walked out onto the front porch.
“Kevin, you need to return to fairyland and tell Jey they’re here too! You need to bring him before this witchery spreads.”
Kevin stared at the floor. He looked up at Zander, his eyes glossy.
“Jey’s dead.”
“What? How do you know?”
“I held him as he died.”
The snowfall seemed heavier now, the thick white flakes dropping silently ahead. Zander stood frozen in shock as the flakes collected on his head and shoulders.
“Raven killed him,” added Kevin.
Zander was speechless. He cleared his throat. “So, you went back...”
“I told you I would. Matthew and Jake joined me. We could have used your help too.”
“What could I have done against that monster?” he said. “I can do something about the freaks in Wakefield, not in fairyland.”
“Why are you so worried now, Zander? I thought you didn’t care about anyone but yourself!” Kevin said.
Zander shook his head and stared ahead into the evening gloom. “We need to do something. I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he said, ignoring Kevin’s question.
Zander turned and jogged down the street. Kevin watched him until he reached the intersection. He paused before Old Em’s house and gazed around suspiciously. Then he crept into her yard and grabbed her Santa Claus animatronic and unplugged it.
“Hey!” Kevin yelled, but Zander was off and away with the Santa Claus, disappearing around the corner of the street.
Chapter Two:
Back to School
Mr. Bruily was surprised to see Zander walk into his classroom early, carrying a full backpack for a change. He watched him take a seat in the middle of the classroom, instead of the far rear like normal. Kevin thought it an odd occurrence too. Zander opened his backpack and pulled out a textbook and notebook, then glanced at Mr. Bruily, who was staring from his desk.
“What?” he blurted.
“Oh, nothing, Mr. Jeffers. Good morning,” Mr. Bruily responded.
Zander looked at Kevin with confusion. Kevin shrugged.
‘Today at Wakefield Middle’ aired minutes later, with Wendy Perez’s shrieky voice waking those still in a half-sleep daze.
“Good morning, Wakefield Rebels! A reminder that we need everyone at Wakefield High School this Thursday evening for our drama club’s theatrical debut of A Masquerade! Make sure you pack that auditorium to support our drama club. They’ve been working hard to present this show to the community.”
Harry Miller followed. “In other news, the cafeteria staff wants to inform our student body that they will no longer serve extra Tater Tots. Many of you are smuggling them to class and leaving smashed up tots in random places, like inside teacher purses, inside teacher briefcases, and inside some of our teachers’ laptops. Just last week, Mr. Sanders was attacked by a swarm of birds trying to get to the tot crumbs falling from his bag. He lost his balance and fell, fracturing his knee cap. So, if this continues, we will suspend Tater Tots from all future menus.”
Some students scowled at hearing the news while others chuckled.
After the announcements, Mr. Bruily continued his lecture on ancient Egyptian civilization and the Pyramids of Giza.
“So think about this, class... These pyramids were constructed around forty-five hundred years ago by people who didn’t have electrical machines. The largest of the pyramids contains over two million blocks, each weighing from two to eighty tons. These blocks are believed to have come from a quarry over five hundred miles away. Let that sink in, students—how did these folk move over two million blocks, each weighing an average of two tons, over five hundred miles without machines?”
The students stared blankly.
“These blocks are shaped to fit together almost perfectly, like a puzzle. Precisely shaped corners and edges all fitting together to make a six-sided pyramid!”
Many of the students gawked, and some gave him a puzzled stare.
“That’s right; the Great Pyramid at Giza has six sides! It wasn’t discovered for centuries because it’s not noticeable from ground level. The six sides are observable from above, during a specific time of day when the sun is at a certain angle.”
Mr. Bruily posted an aerial photo of the six-sided pyramid. The students were amazed, staring wide-eyed, some with their mouths open. Then, he posted a picture of the three pyramids at night, with bright matching stars hovering above each of the pyramid apexes.
“The three pyramids of Giza are perfectly aligned with the stars of the Orion belt—and the main pyramid faces true north,” he explained. “So how do you think they did it? How were they able to carve out millions of blocks that heavy, and how do you think they could stack them hundreds of feet high with such precision, without cranes?”
The students thought silently.
“Using thousands and thousands of slaves?” answered Eric Miller.
“Yes, maybe. That’s the most agreed-upon answer. However, scholars believe they were hired workers, not slaves. Any other ideas?”
“Maybe they used some technology that was lost to time?” answered Sandra Palinski.
“Yes, definitely. To this day, archaeologists continue to discover new artifacts and ancient scrolls. Maybe one will reveal some lost technology. Any other ideas?”
Zander raised his hand, surprising everyone in the classroom.
“Mr. Jeffers! Yes, what do you think?”
“They could have found a portal to another dimension and received the power to make the pyramids from the people there. Then the portal was lost over time.”
Mr. Bruily nodded with surprise. “Uh-huh. Anything is possible...”
“Anything but that!” chuckled Paul Heedy, one of the smarter students in the class.
Zander shot him a menacing stare, and the chuckle died there.
“No, not at all, Paul. The fact is, is that as smart and advanced as we think we are, and with everything we know of our universe today, there are countless questions that remain unanswered. Way to think out of the box, Mr. Jeffers.”
Many of the students frowned with bewilderment at Zander’s sudden interest in class participation. Most often, Mr. Bruily had to question him directly, and most often, he’d responded with the bare minimum; yes, no, or most frequently—I don’t know.
Class ended a few minutes later. Kevin took his books and proceeded towards the doorway.
“Kevin, wait,” said Zander.
Kevi
n paused and turned. Zander approached him when Mr. Bruily spoke.
“Mr. Jeffers, thank you for participating today. I would like for this to continue. I’m sure class discussions will be more interesting and productive, the more students are involved.”
Zander nodded but didn’t respond with words. He turned away when Mr. Bruily grabbed his arm.
“Wait. This portal idea... where did you come up with it?”
Zander stared at Mr. Bruily’s hand on his. Mr. Bruily released him.
“It was just an idea—an idea that popped into my head.”
Mr. Bruily nodded and wheeled himself back. “Very well, Mr. Jeffers. Please continue to enlighten us in future discussions.”
Zander turned and he and Kevin walked out of the classroom.
“Wow, that was weird,” Kevin said. “Knowing what we know, your suggestion was actually not that far off.”
“Mr. Bruily is too nosy,” said Zander.
“I’m sure he just wants to know you better and make you a better student. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Well, there is in my book. I don’t like him.”
“Sorry to ask, but is there anyone in this world you do like?”
“Definitely not you!”
“Yeah, we all know that.”
“I’m just kidding with you, Kevin.”
They walked silently for a few moments. “By the way, why did you steal Old Em’s Santa Claus yesterday?”
“Old who?”
“Old Em. She lives in the corner house. The one you stole the Santa from. I wouldn’t have done that if I were you. She’s a creepy old lady, and some say she’s a witch.”
“I don’t care; I need money.”
“Did you steal anything from my house?”
“No. Now mind your own business.”
Kevin could do nothing but shake his head.
“So, what did you want to tell me?”
“I’m going back to that clinic today. I’m going to find out who those kids were, and who their leader is.”
“So, you’re positive you saw what you said you saw?”