Shade and the Skinwalkers

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Shade and the Skinwalkers Page 2

by Marilyn Peake


  I have to admit, though, she was extra decent about my name. She paused after reading it out loud and made a nice comment: “Galactic ... Why, you’ll fit in perfectly here with a name like that!”

  I raised my hand.

  She said, “Yes, Galactic?”

  I said, “I go by Shade. My middle name. I prefer to be called Shade.” I did have to get along with my peers, after all.

  She seemed flustered for a moment. Then she scribbled a note on her list of names and said, “Sure. No problem. You should be called whatever you like.”

  After roll call, she handed out the syllabus for the year. I was happy to see that graphic novels were going to be the first things we read! However, I felt a lot less excited when she handed out the first one. It wasn’t actually a graphic novel. It was a cheesy comic book about aliens and UFOs, no doubt free copies she got in Roswell. Oh well, things could be worse, I suppose.

  She did say, “Principal Marquez has assured me he’s set aside money in the budget for me to purchase better graphic novels. By next month, we should have money for Over the Wall by Peter Wartman and both graphic novel volumes of Neil Gaiman’s The Graveyard Book.”

  We were given the rest of the period to read through The UFO Came for Me. It was actually kinda fun. No one in class laughed, although I wanted to a bazillion times. The pictures were so corny. But, then, the comic talked about abductions and maybe friends and family of people who’d gone missing around here blamed it on UFO abductions, I don’t know. I forced myself not to laugh. I studied the graphic design. I could draw better than that.

  After school, I took some time to look at the club listings posted on the Bulletin Board outside the main office. I was happy to see there was a Newspaper Club! Club Day was the next day and I definitely planned to join that one.

  The bus ride home was OK. The usual. Lots of noise. A few kids picking on other kids. The bus driver threatening to pull over if everyone didn’t sit down and behave themselves.

  When I got home, my mom was there. Sober. That was a big improvement over our last move when the whole first floor reeked of alcohol and pot while she unpacked boxes.

  She was sitting in the living room, reading a magazine. When I walked through the door, she gave me a smile and started talking a mile a minute. How was school? Did I make any friends? Would I like to check out Roswell with her on the weekend?

  I did not feel like talking. My answers: “Fine ... Not yet, but the kids were OK ... Maybe, I’ll have to see how much homework I have.”

  I dashed off to my room. In a trailer that small, you could dash off to any room and be there before the other person even had a chance to finish their sentence. My mom said, “But it’s only the first week of...”

  Bam! Door shut.

  “...school.”

  See what I mean? Trailer living might suit me after all.

  I opened up my art notebook to the beginning of Leotard Girl. Then I pulled The UFO Came for Me out of my backpack. I was relieved that my artwork looked much better than the comic, and that Leotard Girl had a better story. I started feeling that maybe I could actually publish it.

  I settled into working on a second book in my Leotard Girl series. My mind wandered. I wondered exactly where Brandon, my ghost friend, was and how Annie was doing.

  Then I heard crying. It seemed like it was coming from far away; but I thought maybe it was Kai again, since I was hearing it so clearly. Rats! I was supposed to meet Kai outside to go see some caves. I had completely forgotten.

  I grabbed my sweatshirt jacket and headed outside. She wasn’t there. I walked completely around her trailer. Not there. I waited until my mom called me inside for dinner to give up waiting for Kai to notice me and come outside.

  As I walked back to my trailer, a black raven the size of a cat sauntered across the desert dust of our front yard. Man, rodents wouldn’t have a chance against that thing!

  All through my dinner of hot dogs, sauerkraut and instant mashed potatoes—one of my most favorite meals ever—I heard crying. Again. It was haunting and disturbing and made me feel sad.

  After dinner, I told my mom I was going for a walk. I threw my jacket back on and followed an overwhelming compulsion to find out where the crying was coming from. It led me across my yard, down the street, and out into the desert. The sun dropped from the sky through ribbons of hot red and lilac. As the sun’s rays dwindled down to nothing, I arrived at the mouth of a cave.

  The crying blended with the wind that whistled around the outer edges of the cave and rustled through the wild grasses sounding like whispers. I peered into the cave. Nothing in there but darkness.

  Then, suddenly, the air filled with the awful sound of frantic fluttering, as hundreds, maybe thousands, of bats flew out of the cave.

  I shrieked without meaning to, and ran as fast as my feet could carry me back home.

  When I got there, Kai was waiting for me. And she was crying.

  I asked her if she’d been there all along. She said, “No. I couldn’t get away earlier. My mom’s boyfriend was picking on her. He doesn’t usually beat her up when I’m around, so I stayed inside with her.” She cocked her head and looked at me with a funny expression. She asked, “Where were you?”

  I told her about following the sound of crying out to a cave in the desert.

  Kai asked, “Was it the one with wild grasses growing outside it?”

  I said, “Yes...”

  Kai said, “Yeah, you might not want to go out there at night. Rumor has it several people have been murdered out there.” She looked up at the sky and pointed. “That’s Venus.”

  Feeling annoyed that she had changed the subject from murder to sky-watching without even so much as blinking an eye, I said, “I know,” referring to Venus. Then, more to the point, I said, “Did the murders really happen or is that just rumor? People go missing all the time. I’ve heard people around here claim that aliens came in UFOs and abducted people they knew. I doubt that’s true.”

  Kai looked up at the sky and pointed again. “It’s a big universe up there. How do you know it’s not true?”

  Well, I didn’t, really. I thought about Brandon and his grandmother and all the other ghosts I’d seen and Annie’s faeries, and I reminded myself that maybe there were lots of creatures walking and flying around that only revealed themselves to certain people. But then I banished that thought from my mind. I wasn’t ready to deal with it. It was too disturbing and frightening to think there might be all kinds of creatures around me every single day that I was totally unaware of. It threatened my view of reality and whatever fragile sense of security I had. My life was so unstable, I didn’t want to think that the few things I felt certain of might not be true. Aliens? I scoff at your madness. Ghosts? Well, sure, ’cause I’d seen them.

  I missed Brandon!

  Kai shook me by the arm. I guess I’d gotten lost in my thoughts and tuned her out. She said, “Shade ... Hey, Shade...”

  I acted like nothing was wrong, like I hadn’t missed a beat. I said, “Well, I don’t know for sure that it’s not true. But I doubt it. You’d think the aliens would have revealed themselves to us by now.”

  Kai stomped her foot. She tensed her face and arms. She said, “Other people say they have revealed themselves. Just because you haven’t seen them doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

  Why were we having this ridiculous conversation, anyway? I said, “OK. Fair enough.”

  Kai smiled. “You want to go out to the cave with me tomorrow? The same one you visited tonight?”

  I stared at her with eyes as wide as I could possibly make them. “Seriously? The one where you told me people were murdered?”

  Kai replied, “The cave where I said there are rumors people were murdered. You don’t sound like you’re the kind of person who gets frightened off by rumors.”

  Suddenly, someone started banging pots and pans inside a trailer close by. Then the sounds of something being thrown against a hard surface and glas
s shattering. A woman screaming, “Stop it!” and a man yelling, “I’m sick ta death of there bein’ nothin’ ta watch on TV and nothin’ decent ta eat fer dinner! I work hard all day and then I come home ta this!”

  That was it. Silence.

  Kai laughed. “Don’t worry. Not everybody here is like that. Yeah, sure, my mom’s boyfriend and a few other people are jerks, but they only stand out ’cause they’re loud. I’ll introduce you to some nice people, don’t worry. So, you wanna go to the cave with me tomorrow or are you too chicken?”

  Challenge accepted! I replied, “I’m never too chicken.” That was an outright lie, but I wasn’t going to start my new life in a trailer park with a reputation for being frightened.

  CHAPTER 3

  When I got to school, I remembered Newspaper Club was that day. I had totally forgotten about it when I promised Kai I’d go to the cave with her. Oh well, it would still be light outside when I got home. We’d just have to go then.

  All through school, I couldn’t wait for club. The Newspaper Club back at Central High had completely changed my life.

  That reminded me, I should try to call Annie, see how she was doing. I should work up the courage to call her mom, see if Annie was out of the hospital yet. I am chicken, I decided—a big, fat coward. I was so traumatized by what happened to Annie and Ursula and Misty, I fell apart and shut down. Well, nothing happened to me. I came out of everything a big hero. I even got credit for everything the ghosts helped me accomplish because most people can’t see them and don’t believe in them.

  I decided I’d call Annie no later than the following week. Other ideas started floating around in my brain, too threatening for me to focus on. If the newspaper club at my new school had any real interest in journalism, I could probably work with other members to find Misty. The police said she’d been sold into slavery and thought she was somewhere in Romania. A lot of online forums are global. If the newspaper club here didn’t have a forum like The Tiger’s Den that we started back at my old school, I could start one and try to open up at least a section of it to the whole world.

  I thought about how intense things had gotten back in The Tiger’s Den. So many students with serious problems. But, then, students chatted about Annie and worked hard to find her. Maybe we could find Misty, even if she had been taken out of the United States.

  My last class of the day was Algebra. All of a sudden, I heard my name. “Shade? ... Shade! ... Galactic Shade Griffin!”

  Rats! I’d been daydreaming again.

  It was the teacher, a young guy barely out of college. His blue eyes glittered with intensity when he solved math equations. To each his own. What was he calling on me for? I always tried to figure things out quickly when I got caught daydreaming because I did an awful lot of that when I wasn’t supposed to.

  There was an equation on the blackboard. A lot of x’s and y’s and solve for y. OK, I can talk my way through this. Hopefully, the teacher ... What was his name? ... The blackboard said Mr. Paul Reed ... was actually calling on me to solve the equation.

  I heard the words coming out of my mouth too quickly, like one of those Angry Birds when Brandon shot them out of a cannon. I just started solving the equation out loud.

  The class giggled. Mr. Reed interrupted me. He said, “Ms. Griffin...”

  I cringed. I didn’t want to be called that.

  When I looked away from the board, I saw that he had crossed his arms. He was studying me with a humorous expression. He said, “Thank you for giving away the first part of the solution to tonight’s homework. I commend you. Well done.” He did sarcasm well, with subtlety, I’d give him that.

  He continued, “Ms. Griffin, I had read your name off as signed up to attend Newspaper Club today. I need to know: Are you signed up for the late bus?”

  My face grew hot. I said, “No. Where can I do that?”

  He said, “Why, right here, as a matter of fact. On the first Club Day of the school year, teachers in the last class of the day record the names of students who need the late bus but haven’t signed up yet.” He scribbled something on a sheet of paper—my name, no doubt. He looked up and said, “Now you’re signed up for the late bus.”

  The bell rang. I was outta there as fast as I could grab my books and scramble out of my seat.

  Newspaper Club was a major disappointment. Kids mostly sat around killing time. A couple kids read the comics section of some local newspapers. Physical, paper newspapers, mind you ... and local. Man, there is nothing more boring and old-fashioned than a local newspaper in a small town.

  Every once in a while, a kid would start laughing and showing their comic around. Why not read comics online and text the link to everyone else? Everyone could laugh at the same time. Someone shoved a newspaper at me. I read the comic. OK, it was funny. Political satire, and funny.

  I waited for the meeting to start.

  Ten minutes later, the teacher walked in. Talk about disappointment! It was my English Lit teacher, Ms. Rose Bell. She had divided her hair into two braids. The braids were pink; everything above that was blond. OK, let me get this straight. Had she walked around with helmet hair yesterday because the pink was designated for the braids section? Weird. Today, she was wearing an outfit that if my mom had a fashion magazine, it could have come straight out of that. She had on a red sleeveless dress covered with bright yellow flowers and, under that, a long-sleeved purple shirt. She was wearing purple tights and flat leather shoes. Well, at least the shirt and tights matched. She was so colorful, it was near-blinding. How were we supposed to concentrate? My eyes, my eyes! It was like staring into the sun ... or almost an entire half of the color wheel. I sure hoped, for their sake, no one in the club was on LSD.

  Ms. Bell clapped her hands. She looked so happy. Her voice, however, was incredibly timid. She said, “Hi, everyone. Welcome to this year’s Newspaper Club. As you know, the adviser for last year’s Newspaper Club died.” Her lips turned pale and most of the color drained from her face. “What a terrible accident...”

  I looked around the classroom. Everyone was so quiet, you could have heard a pin drop.

  She continued, “Well, now I’m in charge. I’d like to make this club interesting for all of you. I thought we’d write stories about some actual events. Now, they don’t have to be life-shattering events. You could write about UFO events in town.” She smiled. “Not necessarily aliens swooping down in a tin saucer or anything that dramatic...” It was supposed to be a joke. No one laughed. I thought to myself, Wouldn’t a tin saucer get crushed into a flat plate coming through our atmosphere? She cleared her throat. “What I mean is, you can write about something dramatic enough to get into national or international news or you can simply write about everyday life events that you find interesting. If your grandmother has a cool cactus garden, for example, you could write about that.”

  I worked up my courage. I raised my hand and asked, “Can we have a forum?”

  She looked at me blankly. “A forum?”

  My heart pounded. My voice was going to shake, I just knew it. Why did I have to mention this on the first day of club? Because of Misty. Because of Misty. I kept telling myself: Because of Misty. I forced the words out way too fast: “We had a forum in my old school. Our newspaper was called The Tiger’s Tale, so we had a forum called The Tiger’s Den.”

  She clasped her hands together, as though delighted, and said, “Why, that’s absolutely brilliant. I like it! Now, by forum, do you mean a public meeting where we talk about important issues, maybe current events?”

  Oh my God, this was like talking to Brandon and he was a ghost who had died decades earlier, before computers or cell phones had even been invented. He did, however, catch on to Angry Birds. Perhaps there was hope for Ms. Bell.

  I said, “No, not that kind of forum. An online forum—a virtual forum that students can access by computer or cell phone. That’s what The Tiger’s Den was. Kids could sign into it and chat. It actually helped a lot of kids.”
r />   You could see her mind working through her squinted eyes. Finally, she said, “Well, that sounds great, but we have very limited access to computers here.” She turned to the class. “How many of you would be interested in putting together an online forum?”

  Practically everyone raised their hands. Well, that was promising.

  She said, “OK. It’s always good to use our imaginations. What would you like to call the forum if we can get a computer?”

  A computer? One computer? That was totally disappointing. Every kid in my old newspaper club was given their own laptop to work on.

  Names for the forum were suggested and voted upon. The Flying Saucer won. Wow, this town had a one-track mind, that’s for sure.

  Annnnd ... that’s all we accomplished in the first meeting.

  When I got home, Kai was waiting for me at the bus stop. No smile and she looked annoyed. She snapped, “You’re awfully late today.”

  My mouth tightened. “What are you, my mom?”

  Kai grinned, then rolled her eyes. “Sorry. I just don’t want to end up at the cave after dark. Can you leave right away?”

  I said, “Yeah, sure. Let me say hi to my mom and grab a jacket. Give me a few minutes.”

  Kai stuck her hands in the pockets of her jeans. Heading off in the direction of her trailer, she just said, “’K.”

  My mom was home. Everything was unpacked and the place was spotless. The carpet was even vacuumed. She was sitting in the living room, watching a soap opera. She barely noticed me.

  I made myself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, then decided to make one for Kai. I dumped all my school stuff out of my backpack. I filled it with the sandwiches and a couple cans of soda, my jacket, a flashlight and a spool of twine. I wanted to be prepared to not die of hunger and to not get lost inside a cave. I put some extra flashlight batteries in a side pocket.

 

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