Colin and The Rise of The House of Horwood

by M. E. Eadie

  ***

  Colin tried to ignore the raucous crowd, not that he found the cheering embarrassing. He rather appreciated Holdfast, Magenta, and the rest of the circus troupe that crowded into the limited space around the indoor field; but he found the presence of Frederick distracting. He didn’t know what to feel. He wanted to do well, to impress his father, obtain his approval, but he felt awkward. Then the voice inside him whispered. It was somewhat different than before, not so external, but somehow part of him, trying to speak for him. It was him -- but not him.

  “Why should I care? He’s never been anything to me.”

  Colin shook his head trying to get the malcontent buzzing out of his head. If this was anything what Grizzelda was going through…

  “Are you all right?” asked Rhea.

  In the game preparations, as the Terminators were moving to their bench, Edge brushed up against Colin, knocking him off balance. Usually, he could ignore such intrusions by Edge--and Edge, prudently, had given him a wide birth ever since being flattened by The Wind--but this time it was different; Colin wasn’t able to ignore him. Edge simply stood there, taunting him. Irritated, because this was the last thing he wanted to deal with, he turned on Edge and the person standing beside him.

  The same self-satisfied, arrogant smirk was on Edge’s face. “I’d like you losers to meet somebody. He’s a relative of mine, just visiting for the weekend. This is Gunter Jaeger. Say hello to Rain … I mean, Colin Blunder … oops! I mean, Colin … what is your last name anyhow?”

  Gunter was smaller than Edge, and rather slender, but there was something reptilian in his eyes that said he was going to be a formidable opponent.

  Colin put out his hand to Gunter but the boy refused to shake his hand.

  “Yeah, right!” said Edge sarcastically, putting his hand out for a high five from Gunter, who didn’t respond to that either. Nonplused Edge stumbled with his thought then a little bit embarrassed recovered. “He’s going to be playing today.”

  “You can’t do that!” protested Rhea. “You can’t bring in a ringer for the last game!”

  Edge’s cynical grin spread wide across his face. “Yes, actually, I can! Read your rules, Rusty. In the case of sickness, you can replace a player with anyone, as long as they are within the age limit. So, see you on the field, dipsticks.”

  Colin watched them as they walked away. He shook his head. “As if I care,” he said tying up the laces on his shoes, but the coolness in the new boy bothered him.

  “You should care,” admonished Rhea, “unless you want to lose.”

  Colin looked over to where the Terminators were setting up. Coach Bone was staring at him. Those eyes in his ruddy flesh, captured him, held him. It was as though he was trying to tell him something, to pass on a secret message, a type of understanding only they shared. Bile rose up into Colin’s throat. As if he would ever want to share anything in common with him, he turned away to break the connection.

  “That was really weird,” he mumbled.

  “What?” asked Rhea.

  “Coach Bone winked at me.”

  “Why would he do that?” asked Rhea screwing up her face and looking over at the man.

  “I don’t know,” he said irritably, which he immediately regretted.

  Grandma Li held her book, ready for reading during the game. During the season, she had made it through several books. This one, as did the others, looked particularly interesting. On it was a dragon coiled about a mountain of gold. Steam curled out of the dragon’s nostrils, and one of its eyes was partially open. Colin couldn’t stop staring at the cover.

  “Interesting, neh?” shouted Grandma Li. (Rhea said she was partially deaf, but Colin suspected the little woman just liked to be heard.) “Good reading! Not all dragons are the same, neh? Some are good, but some need to be slain. Now, gather round, we have game to win! Where is ghost boy? Can’t start without mascot! Bad luck, very bad luck!”

  Just then Sergeant Peary ‘POPPED’ out of the air startling Tan, jarring his thick glasses askew. Sergeant Peary was wearing a big red/white/and pink flower-patterned dress, with a kerchief and sunglasses on his head to disguise his features. Its effectiveness was negligible because of the dusty army boots that weren’t adequately covered by the hem of the garment, and the smoldering cigar clenched between his teeth.

  Ruffled and harried looking, he offered his apologies, “Sorry for being late, but the Union goons are hot on my trail. I might not be able to stay for the entire game, but I’ll try,” he said scanning the crowd.

  “You look like Principal Devonish,” giggled Rhea.

  “Thanks,” said Peary dryly.

  “Now, lean in your heads so I can give plans,” said Grandma Li. She did this before each game. For someone that seemed unaware of what was going on, she was keenly observant. “Now, it look like red and black team...”

  “The Terminators,” interrupted Rhea.

  Grandma Li made a sour face as if she had just eaten something that disagreed with her. “Stupid name! They sound like those people that kill bugs! Now listen, they have hotshot boy. He is very good. Has his own guardian spirit, same as Bullyboy has his. They will be hard to stop, but remember who you are. Trust in your selves. Trust in your instincts. Try not to win and you will win. Let go of victory and you will win! On three,” she said sticking her hand into the pile of hands in the center of their wheel. “One, two, three, NOODLES!”

  The other teams had ridiculed their name, but now it was a matter of pride, and vengeance. No matter what the Noodles were called--Chicken Noodles, Wet Noodles, Noodle Heads, or Noodle Legs--they had gained a high level of respect.

  As Colin walked to midfield with Rhea, the big voice of Holdfast boomed in the background, “Go get ‘em!” which was followed by a wild raucous shouting and applause. The circus knew how to have a good time. Rhea felt a bit embarrassed as she stepped up to the referee that was looking at them questioningly.

  “Relatives,” she said shrugging apologetically.

  Edge, his hair spiked with gel, stared at them angrily, as though they had no right being there. Gunter Jaeger’s face was emotionless. “He’s my co-captain,” said Edge glaring at Rhea. “Got a problem with that, Rusty?”

  She shook her head. “Just as long as you don’t have a problem with losing.”

  “I want a clean game,” said the referee asserting his authority. “You,” he motioned to Rhea, “call the toss in the air before it hits the ground.”

  Behind Edge flickered the ghostly image of a rooster, but Jaeger’s spirit guardian lurked, ominously, giving the impression of being stealthy, and fast.

  The coin spun in the air, and just before it bounced on the artificial grass, Rhea called, “heads.”

  It was tails.

  Edge flicked the ball up into the air, over Rhea and Colin, even over Spike and Chloe who had confidently moved up (perhaps a little too confidently) from Tan. Before they could react there was a blur, an intense feeling of manic energy burning past them, and Jaeger was driving the ball towards a surprised, wide-eyed Tan. Fortunately, Tan’s Samurai guardian spirit was there, guiding his arms, barely getting them in front of the ball to knock it down where he scooped it up.

  Because Grandma Li didn’t want to expend any timeouts, she sent Sergeant Peary floating over to the net to talk to the defense.

  “Listen, that boy there, Jaeger, has the Black Hunter as his guardian spirit, deadly fast and very intense. You’ll have to play back.”

  Sure enough, the dark blur behind Jaeger had solidified into what looked like a black panther.

  “Come on keeper, move the ball,” said the referee who seemed to be calling more and more infractions against the Noodles, much to the displeasure of the circus performers. While Edge’s face was full of smug satisfaction, Jaeger’s still held no emotion. There was something peculiar about this kid, and as the game progressed, Colin seemed to see a pa
ttern in his play, a pattern that had Jaeger dogging his every move. Every time Colin made a dash down the center to receive a pass from Spike or Chloe, or to take a lob from Rhea, Jaeger was there. After about the fifth interception Rhea stopped trying to get the ball to Colin through the air, because the kid was just too fast; but this wasn’t the peculiar part. The part that caused the tiny hairs on his arms to rise in alarm was what he did once the Terminators got the ball: he did exactly what Colin had just done. If he had gone down the center, Jaeger would test their center. If he tried the side, Jaeger would try it. It was as though the kid was Colin’s shadow, except for the unmistakable fact that Jaeger was a better player. Spike and Chloe had their hands full dealing with Jaeger’s lightning dashes. Without them and, of course, Tan’s acrobatics, much to the delight of the circus entertainers, especially the bellowing Magenta, the game would have already been lost.

  On top of this difficulty, there was the incessant voice of the Nix in Colin’s head. It kept mentioning, at great lengths, how he would deal with the matter, how it would be easy to trip Jaeger, how no one would see it, how he could simply hurt him badly enough to force him out of the game. At first, Colin had been able to dismiss the voice, but it was only a matter of time before Jaeger or Edge scored, and he doubted, the way things were going, that he would be able to resist the tempting negative thoughts for long. Self-doubt was beginning to wear away at him from the inside. He was beginning to resent and blame those around him, to question their efforts.

  “Why can’t you get me the ball?” he hissed impatiently at Rhea after another fizzled-out drive. Tan was stalling; pretending there was something wrong with the ball, trying to give his team more time to organize before kicking it.

  Rhea, her eyes initially wide with surprise, narrowed them. “You’re no cripple. Why don’t you go after him?” she said bitingly, indicating Jaeger who wasn’t even sweating.

  A long whistle sounded and everybody stopped. The referee had something to say. He ran over to Tan, whose eyes behind his thick glasses seemed even more buggy than usual, reached into his pocket and pulled out a yellow card for delay of the game. The crowd erupted.

  “You can’t do that!” bellowed Holdfast as he pushed his considerable bulk to the sideline. Grandma Li stopped the big man from crashing onto the field with a flick of her hand. She casually looked up from her book and arched an eyebrow in mild interest. Holdfast bent over as she whispered something into his ear. The mollified Holdfast gave a nod with a satisfied grunt.

  The referee, believing he had won the battle, signaled for the game to continue. Tan kicked the ball.

  There was an ugly darkness growing inside him. Colin felt it bubbling to the surface, bursting into an idea. Yes, why didn’t he go after Jaeger? Maybe he should take him out, when the referee wasn’t looking.

  Colin bided his time, waited until the action moved away from him, and just as the referee turned his back, he ran up to Jaeger and gave him a bump. He felt an immense satisfaction in it. Jaeger seemed to notice him for the first time.

  “Sorry,” said Colin falsely. He was beginning to hate himself.

  Jaeger nodded and gave him a frigid smile that left Colin numb. The boy seemed to know exactly what was going on. The ball spun back to Jaeger, who quickly found the opportunity to return the bump Colin had given him.

  Chloe and Spike double-teamed him, but Jaeger was able to get the ball to Edge who had a good shot on net. Again, Tan sailed through the air, thick eyeglasses perched on the edge of his nose, making an amazing stop. Again Colin saw the image of the samurai warrior flickering strongly over Tan.

  After the kick, Edge charged the net and hit Tan hard. He pretended to slip, and fell heavily on the slender Tan. The collision had knocked Tan’s glasses off and as he groped around blindly for them, Edge stepped on them breaking them into pieces.

  Chloe flew through the air and landed on the back of Edge and hammered him hard with her fist, then began to choke him by using the crook of her arm to wrap around his thick neck. Fortunately, Rhea and Spike were between the ref and Chloe so he didn’t observe the extent of her ‘unsportsmanlike conduct’, and they were able to peel Chloe off Edge before he did, but not in time to avoid another penalty. The whistle blew and the referee reached for another yellow card. He was going to give Tan his second card and then a red, which would mean he would no longer be able to play.

  In the process of reaching for the yellow card to wave in front of Tan’s nearly blind eyes, the referee’s face took on a sickly pallor, turning from red to white and then to a yellowish-green. His hand flew to his mouth and his lips tightened, but the vomit flew out of his mouth and all over the pitch. Everybody stepped back, staring with disgust, as the ooze splattered onto their shoes. Coach Bone, first to the aid of the referee, wrapped a towel around the retching man’s shoulders and led him off the field. The delay of the game brought the teams back to their collective benches. Colin noticed that Holdfast was patting his stomach and waving his finger at the oblivious referee.

  Colin was suddenly, strangely aware of where he was. While everybody was milling about the goal, he stood, detached, simply watching as though this wasn’t his fight at all. He also noticed Jaeger was doing the same thing.

  A time out was called by Coach Bone.

  Grandma Li inserted herself in the circle they had formed and gave them all a good look. Their foreheads were shiny with sweat, exhaustion starting to show in their eyes. They looked and felt as if they were in the middle of a battle, a battle they were losing.

  “We can’t keep this up forever,” breathed out Spike. His tongue looked long and pink, his eyes, the eyes of a coyote, flickering about looking for a solution. “They’re breaking us down, slowly, but they’re doing it.”

  “I can’t see, and those were my only glasses,” lamented Tan.

  “I can’t believe he was going to give you another card!” said Chloe. “I should’ve gotten it for jumping on meat head!”

  “No, you shouldn’t have gotten it,” shot in Rhea. “Edge stepped on Tan’s glasses. He broke them on purpose!”

  Colin said nothing, but the voice inside him was chuckling with glee at the contention.

  Grandma Li brought her hands together in a loud detonating clap to gain their attention.

  “Yes, all these things are true, and the referee got what he deserved!”

  “What did you do, Grandma?” said Rhea.

  She shook her head. “No, I only suggested.”

  “Well, why don’t you suggest Edge falls and breaks a leg, or better still, how about that new kid!” proposed Spike.

  “There is difference between justice and cheating, and that would be cheating. If you are going to win this game, you have to win fairly or it become lie, and lies and cheating end up in mess on floor. Instead of complaining, ask the question, ‘What do I need to do to win?’”

  The question led to a heated discussion, but no matter how hard they tried they couldn’t come up with anything viable, anything that would actually work.

  Colin watched them as though he was looking through someone else’s eyes. The voice in his head finally broke through his efforts to suppress it:

  Why don’t you just trip him, take him out at the ankles. You might get lucky and injure him. Sure, you’ll get a red card, but, hey, he’s a better player than you.

  Surprisingly, Holdfast was squeezing his bulk into a black shirt, which looked as though it was about to burst. He waved a big hand at them as he looped the whistle over his head and it disappeared into the bush of his beard. No one dared tell him he couldn’t do what he was intent on doing.

  “All right now, let’s have a good, clean game!” he said, his voice booming throughout the room as he strode onto the pitch and gave the whistle a great blast.

  The nearly sightless Tan kicked the ball high into the air, and Colin made sure to get under it. Jaeger was in the way. When he pressed up against Jae
ger, he felt … nothing! He should have felt the heat and the sweat of a working body, but instead, he felt nothing, just a cold, clammy body, and that made him shiver. As the ball came down, he jumped and managed, somehow, to get up above Jaeger. Circus training did have its benefits. The ball came in contact with his head and he tipped the ball over to Rhea who had a good shot on the opposing goal. Unfortunately, the keeper made the save, robbing the Noodles of a goal, but the Nix inside Colin was gleeful, seeing its plan achieved as Colin came crashing down on Jaeger, making sure to land on Jaeger’s ankle. The pain he felt in his own ankle was severe and entirely unexpected. Both of them grabbed for their ankles. The voice inside his head was laughing deliriously, as though seeing people hurt was the funniest thing in the world.

  “Shut up!” yelled Colin.

  Rhea’s concerned face loomed over him, framed by the wild red nimbus of her hair. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “It looks like you two boys have badly twisted your ankles,” said Holdfast kneeling down. He shook his big hairy head, and then stared into Colin’s eyes with penetrating clarity. “Accidents do happen, and regrettably the angels are currently tied up.” He had paused on the word accident as though hoping for its validity.

  Spike and Rhea lifted Colin up, draped his arms over their shoulders and helped him as he limped painfully towards the sideline. Edge and one of the Terminators were doing the same thing for Jaeger. A smattering of applause grew until the entire field was clapping. It sounded like one great waterfall.

  There was a sadness in Rhea eyes; she was looking at him as though she was seeing him in a new light. His heart sank. He could tell she already knew that he had purposely injured Jaeger. He felt ashamed, but the Nix inside him rose up and arrogantly suppressed it. Why should he feel shame?

  The only thing he couldn’t figure out was how he got injured because he hadn’t twisted his ankle at all--it just, sort of, gave out on him. He was lowered down onto the bench beside Grandma Li who quickly removed his shoe, elevated his foot and placed a big pack of ice on it.

  “Crazy boy, what did I say about cheating,” she whispered intently shaking her head.

  Was everybody aware of what he had done? Was it so obvious? He dared not look at his father out of fear of seeing disappointment there. But, what did it matter anyway; the man didn’t have a clue he had a son, and if he had known, he probably wouldn’t have cared.

  “You’re not yourself are you?” Grandma Li asked, intently peering into his eyes.

  He didn’t answer her. Instead, he tried to jerk his head back and avert his eyes but she held his chin with her small hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong.

  “No, you are not. You will see Maestro directly after we lose the game, understand?”

  “What do you mean lose? We have as much a chance of winning as they do!”

  Grandma Li shook her head. “Not now. You upset things. Crazy boy, you upset apple cart. Now, cart must be fixed! It is balance, action, reaction. Understand?”

  Colin wanted to say he didn’t understand, but he did. It was why Zuhayer Horwood wanting to come back from the dead was wrong, how living forever was wrong, how winning at any cost was wrong. It went against the natural rhythm of things, and he knew that there had to be a correction. But what if the correction didn’t happen; what if, despite everyone’s efforts, Zuhayer did come back and did manage to become immortal – if that was even possible. What would that do to the balance?

  Well, then, said the unctuous voice inside his head, then a new order would be created now, wouldn’t it, and would that be so bad? Who says the old order of life and death is worth keeping anyway?

  Colin was horrified by the cold logic of the voice, not because of what it said but because of its familiarity. It was as though he actually knew the voice. It was as though he was listening to himself, or a part of himself.

  “Do you understand?” repeated Grandma Li, squeezing her fingers tighter on his chin until he winced from the pressure. Gratefully, it brought him out of his head and back into the present.

  “Yes, I understand.”

  Nodding her satisfaction, she let go of his chin and resolutely picked up her book with the dragon on the cover, and began to read, oblivious to what was happening on the field.

  Not even Holdfast’s fair calling of the game could save them. Poor Tan was squinting so hard, but could only see directly in front, anything at any distance was just a blur. Then the defense finally broke down, mainly because Chloe and Spike were exhausted, and the ball went into the net while Tan jumped in the opposite direction. Not even his samurai guardian could pull him back. This goal was all the Terminators needed. They fell back to protect their net, and no matter what Rhea did, she couldn’t get it past their keeper. After a few agonizing minutes, it was all over. They had lost the game, and with the game the championship. Grandma Li and the entire Circus crowd were on their feet clapping and cheering. The colorful form of Magenta led the rush onto the field to congratulate the players. Colin didn’t see much of it; he was staring down at the ground. The ghostly hand of Sergeant Peary lightly touched his shoulder.

  “It isn’t your fault, kid. It’s not easy having a Nix inside you. I lived with one for most of my youth, until I could get rid of it,” he said, surveying the crowd for twin stove pipe hats.

  “You lived with a Nix?”

  “Sure, my dad was like a Nix. He could get under your skin and try to take over, get you to do what he wanted you to do, not what you wanted to do.” His transparent eyes widened as the two massive ghosts from the Union, in their signature hats, appeared on the field.

  “Sorry, kid, I’ve gotta evaporate,” said Peary as he did just that.

  The Union ghosts also disappeared in close pursuit.

  Colin seemed abandoned, alone, even though the place was filled with people either rejoicing or needing consolation. Oddly enough, his ankle didn’t hurt anymore. He wondered wryly if Jaeger’s ankle was hurting. Standing up, he quietly slipped out of the room, unseen, and--to his way of thinking at that particular moment--unwanted. Losing the game was hard, submitting to the Nix was harder, but having to face his father was the hardest. Having a Nix inside him, he suddenly felt an affinity for his Aunt. If this was unhappiness, then he didn’t like it, not at all. He was going to see Maestro right away. Even though, the voice of the Nix was, thankfully, quiet, he wanted the Nix out and he wanted him out now!