by M. A. Torres
“I’ll be taking this,” he said with a smile.
The evening crept up on them. Sven started a fire in the cooking pit, and the boys huddled around it, opening their food pouches. Matthew ate chicken breast from his MRE while Kevin chewed on an energy bar and beef jerky. Jake pulled out a Mexican burrito and gave it a huge bite.
“No way! Where did you get that burrito from?” asked Matthew.
“I made a Rosita’s run before we came.” He unzipped his backpack and opened it, revealing a cache of foil-wrapped burritos.
Kevin eyed them desirably, his mouth open and watering. “Did you get any picadillo?” he asked.
“They’re all picadillo,” he said between bites.
A sliver of drool oozed out of Kevin’s mouth. “Oh, man.” He wiped the drool with his sleeve. “I wish I’d thought of that.”
Rosita’s was Wakefield Fall’s best Mexican food eatery, famous for its thick and tasty burritos.
“You’re gonna have to share now,” said Kevin.
“Yeah, you have enough burritos in there to last you days!” said Matthew, staring down at his MRE with disappointment.
“What’s a burrito?” asked Sven.
The boys’ eyes widened.
“It’s a delicious compact meal wrapped in a tortilla,” explained Jake. He took another from his backpack and placed it into the iron pot.
“A tort... tort...”
“Tortilla! You’ll see.” Jake pulled the burrito out of the pot and unwrapped it with his gloved hand. “Here, have a taste.”
Sven took it and gave it a soft, hesitant bite. He chewed for a moment, and his face brightened. He took another, larger bite, this time with a full smile. “This is superb!” But seconds later, his chewing slowed, his face reddened, and his smile turned to a frown. “My mouth is burning! My mouth is burning!” Sven grabbed his canteen and drank with desperation, slivers of water running down his chin.
“Wow. I didn’t think they were that spicy,” said Jake.
Sven drank the entire contents of his canteen, but his cheeks were still flushed, his forehead glistened with sweat, and his face and eyes spelled panic. He rushed outside. Seconds later, he returned, his hands holding a pile of snow and his tongue buried deep inside.
Kevin took the rest of Sven’s burrito and bit it. “Deliciousness... not very spicy either.”
“Gosh, Sven, is there any spicy food in Derathiel?” asked Matthew.
Sven couldn’t answer. His tongue was still buried in the snow. Seconds later, his cheeks paled, and he raised his head. “That was horrible. How can you eat that so... so... calmly?”
Jake and Kevin exchanged a glance and shrugged.
“I don’t know; I guess we’re used to it. That’s considered mild in our world. You would have died if you tasted the spicier options,” said Jake.
“There’s spicier than this? Oh my...”
Suddenly, Jake’s eyes widened with realization. “Oh, Sven... I’m going to warn you about something.”
“What? What now?”
“When some people eat spicy food and aren’t used to it, they get sick.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean sick... in the stomach.”
“Will I vomit?”
“Oh, you’ll vomit... but not from your mouth.”
Matthew and Kevin chuckled.
Sven’s eyes widened. “From where then?”
Jake gestured towards his behind.
“Oh...OH!” A look of sorrow overtook him. “I saw a chamber pot upstairs. Might as well get it ready.”
An hour hadn’t passed before Sven excused himself into the stables, chamber pot in hand.
“So sorry, Sven!” Jake hollered. “I swear I didn’t know that would happen,” he whispered to Jake and Matthew.
Night was soon upon them. Sven and Kevin slept on the first floor, with Sven taking the bed and Kevin his sleeping bag. Jake slept on the third floor and Matthew on the second, but after just one hour, the four boys found themselves together on the first floor.
“I couldn’t sleep, so I went to Matthew’s room, but he couldn’t sleep either,” said Jake.
“It’s too cold up there,” explained Matthew. “It’s too creepy too. Can’t hear anything but the howl of the wind.”
And the howl of the wind intensified. An hour later, all four boys were tossing and turning. Kevin glanced at his watch and saw it was 11:38 p.m. Wakefield time—not too late but well past his school day bedtime. He looked at the others, their forms restless in the dark, so he sat up.
“Sven, you awake?”
Sven raised his head. “Ser Kevin. Yes, the wind is terribly loud. Did you have something in mind?”
“What do you know about the gods? About their war?”
Sven rolled on his side. “We know what’s passed down through word of mouth. Many of the details have changed over the centuries, but the key points remain—Zaron and Grimm’s infatuation with Maviel, the resultant war, and Emory’s effort to end it.”
“Anything else you can think of? Any mention of someone named Vengara?”
“I’ve never heard that name mentioned.”
Kevin lowered his gaze and thought silently. “So what else can you tell me about the war?”
“That period... I’ve heard it described as a dark and dangerous time. A time when the demons of the underworld walked the land, and the dead rose from their graves. A time when magic was rampant, and peace and civility went extinct.”
Kevin nodded, hungry to hear more.
“The Derathiel kingdoms took sides, joining one god’s faction or another, depending on whose promise of wealth and power benefited them most. Allied kingdoms became enemies and warred one another. A crusade was born. Followers of one god fought those of the others, destroying them and their places of worship, for a god’s power comes from the quantity and passion of their faithful.
“The gods taught their supplicants magic, and soon, Derathiel was crumbling beneath the weight of standard war and a war of magic and sorcery. Half the kingdoms supported Grimm and his faction, which included Whispawn, the god of the sky, and Parelore, the goddess of the seas and oceans, while the others supported Zaron’s faction, backed by Brealin, the god of fire.”
“But then Emory stripped their power and ended the war, right?” asked Kevin.
“She did. There are tales of a sacred knighthood she created, named the Knights of the Mortal Dawn. They wielded magical pale swords that had the power to destroy the demons of the underworld and fight the Knights of the Void.”
“Knights of the Void?” asked Kevin.
“Knights fighting for Grimm’s faction. They wielded weapons made from the essence of the underworld. Weapons made of black blades—so black they would drain a person’s soul.”
Matthew and Jake were now up and alert, listening.
“Eventually, Emory ended their war by stripping the gods of their essence. They didn’t lose their immortality, but they lost their spirit form, becoming physical beings—subject to pain, stress, and emotion. They possess some remnants of their previous power, but are nowhere as strong.”
“How did she do that?” asked Jake.
“No one knows.”
“What happened with Emory? Is she still around?” asked Kevin.
“The tales don’t all agree. Some say the effort to strip her siblings destroyed her. Some others say she sacrificed herself before Mother Amos to prevent her from ending this world. Others say she too became a physical being and locked herself up in an unknown tomb. Whatever the story, they all agree on just one point—no one has seen her since, as they have the rest of the fallen gods.”
Chapter Ten:
Kevin Parker The Dreamer
The crowd flowed out from the theater after the final showing of the night. It was 1:30 a.m., and Kevin Parker stood by the side isle, broom and dustpan in hand. He was biting his bottom lip, his foot fidgeting with anxiety.
He sighed loudly, urging
the last few stragglers to hasten and leave, but the trio of teenaged boys remained oblivious to his desperation. Kevin had never seen them at Wakefield High, so he assumed they attended Rocky Valley High. The trio was taking their time descending the steps, laughing, joking, and being obnoxious.
Kevin shot his co-worker, Megan Donnelly, a look of annoyance. Megan returned a soft nod as she waited for an older couple to descend the last few steps on the opposite side.
Kevin had crushed on Megan for years but had never summoned the courage to tell her. She was smart, tall, and pretty, while he was a ‘C’ student, short and owned a face scarred by acne. Never in a million years would she agree to date him; after all, she only courted tall, handsome, and athletic guys like Sage Vincent and Harry Roberts.
But something had been eating at him lately, a vision that had crept into his mind and set deep roots within—an image of him and Megan hand in hand, deep in love, strolling through the annual Wakefield Carnival of Pines. He was convinced this recurring dream was an omen of things to come, but he’d have to act fast to make it happen, or live the rest of his days pondering what could have been.
He had planned his move for weeks and decided this would be the night. Their shifts usually ran concurrently—they were scheduled for closing duties on Friday and Saturday nights, then worked a few hours on Sunday mornings. Most often, they cleaned theater four together, after the final showing of the night. This was the time they were alone, and the time they would often converse.
Kevin had marked this night as the one he wouldn’t coward; the one where he’d make his feelings known. He had a way of making her laugh, so much so he’d made her snort a few weeks back. And what girl doesn’t like a guy who makes her laugh?
She thought him funny, especially when he goofed on their manager, Tom Tesh. Tom was an arrogant, mean, and power-hungry guy—the type who wouldn’t think twice about scolding his subordinates before others, showing off his position in the staff hierarchy. He berated them after slight mishaps and shot out orders with impunity. Tom was in his mid-twenties, tall and lanky, with large round eyes and an enormous balding head. He had a bulbous nose that hung down to his upper lip. Kevin had called him Squidward once, and the nickname spread like wildfire among the rest of the employees.
As much as Kevin despised him, he was grateful for one reason—Tom had teamed him up with Megan. Cleaning theater four with her had become his favorite time of the week. While at school, he yearned for those thirty minutes they would spend together, where no one else existed but them. Those nights were his favorite daydream, and he often fantasized about their first kiss happening then.
Kevin and Megan had also developed a ritual during their shift. They competed to see who would find the most disgusting leftovers. From half-chewed, soggy hotdogs inside cups of beer, to a basket of popcorn mixed with steaming vomit, Kevin and Megan had turned a grotesque job assignment into a fun and humorous task. As fun as it was to clean repulsive leftovers off the floor, Kevin had also made her laugh by placing the trash onto a tray and describing it like a five-star meal, talking like a sophisticated server at a posh restaurant. The first time he did this, she laughed so hard she snorted, a moment Kevin would never forget.
The obnoxious teens left, oblivious to Kevin’s glare. Megan ascended to the top row, where they usually started their clean up.
“I thought they would never leave!” he said.
“Oh, I know. Those kids from Rocky Valley are so annoying.”
Kevin reached the top aisle, opposite Megan. He swept under the seats and noticed his heartbeat hasten.
“Not too bad so far, how about your side?” she asked him.
“Not t-t-too bad either,” he stuttered—something that would rear its ugly head whenever his nerves crept in.
They made their way down to row fourteen. Kevin swept the floor, nearing mid-aisle where he would be closest to Megan. That’s where he would act—he would finally confess his feelings. He had rehearsed it countless times before. He would start by calling her name, then he’d mention how much fun he thought she was; how he always looked forward to their time together. He would tell her how he loved the way she flipped her hair and the way her nose scrunched when she laughed. He would tell her how he thought she was the prettiest girl he had ever seen; and how honored he’d be if he could take her out sometime.
They met mid-aisle, shoulders almost touching as they worked. Kevin took a deep breath and opened his mouth, about to speak...
“Oh, disgusting!” Megan crouched and pulled up a wrapper stuck in a green gum-like goo. “What do you think this is? It’s even got hair in it!”
Kevin looked closer. The green goo’s consistency was softer than chewing gum, but just as sticky. There was a wad of hair and some popcorn kernels trapped inside it. Near the wrapper, the goo thickened into a marshmallow consistency.
“Dare me to smell it?” she asked him.
Kevin smiled. “No, just throw it away... Or we can save it and stick it on Tom’s car’s door handle.”
Megan’s eyes widened with excitement. “Yes!” But a second later, she frowned. “Never mind, he’ll figure out who it was. There are cameras out front.” Megan walked to the side aisle and dumped the contents of her dustpan. Then they stepped down to row thirteen.
Okay, here’s my chance again.
They cleaned the aisle, gradually nearing mid-row. Kevin’s heart pounded in his chest, the perspiration glistening on his forehead. He opened his mouth to confess his feelings...
“Kevin, I forgot to tell you. Sage and I are back together.”
“Wait, what?”
“We got back together just before our shift. I’m sure it was the right thing. It’ll give us more time before graduation. You know, before we leave for different colleges. Then we’ll decide what to do.”
Kevin’s heart sank into the pit of his gut. For months he had waited patiently for her to be single. For months he had endured the endless tales and complaints about Sage. They had broken up a few weeks back, and now here they were, getting back together.
Kevin, you fool! You cowered too long!
“Wait, I thought you said you weren’t compatible! Remember how often you complained about him! You like theater and opera; he doesn’t! You like to dance; he doesn’t! He likes sports; you hate them! You’re a liberal; he’s a conservative!”
“I know, I know! I’ve complained about him so much these past few months. At first, I ignored the thought, and I was ready to move on. But, week after week of seeing each other at school... you know... feelings re-emerge.”
Kevin resumed his work, silent and angry.
“I’m just so thankful for friends like you, Kevin. You helped brighten up my dark days. You made me smile so many of those nights I was feeling down. Honestly, I look forward to work because of you and your friendship.”
Your friendship. Kevin forced out a smile. “Me too,” are the only words he could muster.
They resumed their work and twenty minutes later they were done and preparing to exit.
“Ready to head back?” she asked.
Kevin nodded.
I don’t care. I need to tell her!
He took a deep breath and spoke.
“I like you.”
Megan frowned. “What?”
“I said I like you.”
Megan smiled. “I like you too, Kevin.”
“No, I like you, like you. Like, I really like you.”
Megan’s smile faded.
“I’ve liked you since we first spoke in Mr. Shockie’s class back in seventh grade. We’ve had no classes since, and that’s a shame. But ever since we started working here, and I’ve gotten to know you, my feelings have just intensified. I miss you when we’re not here. All I do during the week is look forward to cleaning theater four, because that’s when we’re together. I look forward to our talks and I count the days ’til I get to see your pretty face. The thirty minutes we’re together are my favorite part of the week
. I love your laugh. I love how your hair falls down the side of your face when you look down. I love the way you flip it back over your shoulder.”
Megan stood in stunned silence.
Kevin lowered his gaze. “It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. Well, it would suck for me, but eventually, I would be okay. I just had to tell you.”
Megan touched the side of his arm. “Kevin, I...”
“What’s the holdup?!” Tom’s voice boomed from behind. He approached from the side wall, then stood there, hands on his hips. “I’m still waiting for you two to come help clean the front!”
“We’ll be there in a bit,” said Kevin.
“How about you’ll be there now! I need to close. This theater looks clean; if you missed a spot, the morning crew will take care of it!”
Kevin walked out of the theater. Megan followed behind, and Tom followed them both.
“Megan, just because you’re going to Stanford doesn’t mean you get to skip front clean-up.”
“I wasn’t planning on it, Tom. Theater four was particularly dirty tonight,” she said.
They reached the front counter and assisted the others. Kevin swept the floor while Megan wiped the counters.
“Anyone want some leftover popcorn?” asked Richard Long, one of the cashiers.
“If you all want popcorn, you better pay for it!” hollered Tom.
“C’mon Tom; I’m about to throw it away.”
“Doesn’t matter. You buy it if you want some; if not, throw it away.”
Richard and Kevin exchanged an irritated look.
Just then, Hunter Keaton, an usher, appeared. Kevin didn’t know him well, but as far as he could tell, Hunter was a quiet and hardworking guy who attended Rocky Valley High School. He had a scar bisecting his right eyebrow, which Kevin thought made him look cool and rugged.
“Kevin, I just saw a trash bag by the theater four doors,” he announced.
Kevin frowned, then glanced over to Megan. She shrugged, a look of confusion on her face.
“We just came from theater four, Hunter. Megan and I dumped all the trash.”