by Oisin McGann
Fortunately, the receptionist was well used to speaking to people whose mouths didn’t work properly. Like dentists, orthodontists regularly listened to what their patients had to say while they had their hand stuffed into their patients’ mouths.
‘Certainly,’ the woman replied. ‘Just a moment.’
Shapiro’s chirpy voice came on the line.
‘Hello, Jason! How are the braces? I’ve been getting some funny readings off them here. You haven’t been eating any mobile phones, have you? Ha, ha! Everything all right?’
‘No,’ Jason replied. ‘Jer graces aw jooin’ shum funny shtuff. Ah nid joo to sheck jem.’
‘Can’t have them doing any funny stuff, can we? Let’s make an appointment for tomorrow, shall we? Get you all squared away. Would nine fifteen be all right?’‘Datsch purrfick,’ Jason grunted.
‘That’s great, we’ll see you then.’
Jason put do
wn the phone, and went looking for some ice cream.
7
No Help At All
Nightmares plagued his sleep that night. He had visions of being wrapped up with wire and his jaws turning inside out and swallowing his own head whole. Dr Shapiro appeared, waving his tiny hands and snipping at the wire with a weensy little pair of pliers. Then Jason was running away from his own teeth, which chased him on metal legs, as they snapped at him. They changed into the ghostly bully, and Jason ran in terror until the only place to go was up the phone mast outside the school. He climbed it, but the bully came after him, and with nowhere else to go, scared out of his mind by the ghost boy, Jason leapt from the top of the mast and fell screaming towards the ground.
He woke up to find himself clinging to the bed. Nervous and exhausted, he rolled out of bed and got ready for the visit to Dr Shapiro.
* * *
‘Well, the computer hasn’t been picking up anything unusual,’ the orthodontist sighed, gazing into Jason’s mouth. ‘You’re not the first child to think they’re picking up radio transmissions on their braces–’
‘It’s not just radio signals,’ Jason exclaimed. ‘I’m seeing things too. And it all started after you put these things in!’
It was then that he realised that this man was the only person who could help. He knew what the braces were capable of, but more importantly, he didn’t know what Jason was capable of. There was no way his mother or teachers would take him seriously if he told them what he thought was going on; they had all heard too many lies from his mis-shapen mouth. So now, with no one else he could trust, he told his orthodontist what had been happening at school. Shapiro listened quietly, with a raised eyebrow.
‘Yes, well. Maybe all this tingling is triggering your imagination. Let’s hook you up with a direct connection and see if there’s anything we’ve missed. Open wide!’
Shapiro took what looked like a large, flat baby’s soother and put it in Jason’s gaping mouth. It had wires running from the handle end, which connected with the laptop on the counter.
‘Bite down, that’s a good boy.’
Jason caught a glimpse of himself in the polished surface of a steel cupboard door. With this thing in his mouth, he looked like a big baby in a car-seat. He prayed that nobody would come in and see him like this. At least there were blinds covering the windows.
‘Now, we’ l l just download the data,’ Shapiro was saying to himself, tapping away at the keyboard.
The screen suddenly went a blank grey.
‘What’s this now–?’ he punched a few more of the keys.
At first, nothing happened. Then part of the screen went lighter, and an image started to appear. It was a creepy face, with bushy eyebrows, unruly black hair, and dark, piercing eyes.
‘Crikey! What the blazes is that?’
Sparks burst from the laptop, and then there was a crackling sound, and all the lights went out.
Dr Shapiro was standing in the dark with his tiny hands covering his face. Reaching over with one hand, he opened the blinds on the window. He peered through the fingers of his other hand at Jason.
‘Are you all right?’ he whispered. ‘What on earth just happened? What was that thing?’
Jason spat out the big soother and glared at his orthodontist.
‘That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you about! Are you going to listen to me now, or what?’
‘I’m sorry, Jason, but I don’t see what I can do,’ Shapiro avoided his gaze. ‘You should go and tell your mother. She’ll take your story to the police, I’m sure. They’ll help you.’
‘You’re the only one who can help,’ Jason insisted, in desperation. ‘Nobody else will believe me; I’ve got a bit of a reputation … Anyway, that doesn’t matter. You saw the ghost bully thing, and you know what these braces can do. You’ve got to help.’
The orthodontist was fiddling with his burnt-out laptop. Jason frantically tried to come up with some way of spurring the man into action.
‘Dr Shapiro, this thing … this ghost? It’s making the kids grind their teeth!’
For a few seconds, Shapiro’s face was set in a look of absolute shock. Clearly, the idea of something causing such damage to children’s teeth filled him with horror. Jason thought he was finally getting through. But it was no use; the orthodontist turned away and picked up a pen.
‘How about if I write a note about this to your mother?’ he offered, without looking around. ‘How about that?’
Shapiro was a grown-up, and grown-ups thought everything could be solved by going to some authority or other. And what good would teachers or the police do against a spectre that could appear and disappear whenever it liked? Jason pulled the napkin from under his chin, threw it in the bin, and walked out. He would just have to deal with this thing on his own.
8
Drawing Monsters
Jason showed up late for school. He didn’t go in immediately. He stood behind one of the legs of the huge phone mast that towered over the empty lot across the road from the school. The bell was going and all the kids in the yard were lining up to go in. Fintan was back, and Jason waited to see if the ghost boy would be there to pick on him again. But there was no sign of the spectre. With no idea what to do next, Jason hurried across the road to the now-empty yard.
A horn blared at him, making him jump, and he bounded backwards just in time to avoid being hit by a large, white van with darkened windows. It swept past, and down the road. There was a sign on the side, saying:
Spectron Educational Supplies: Helping Build Better Children.
‘Road hog!’ Jason roared after it.
It pulled in to the kerb and stopped. Deciding he should make himself scarce, Jason trotted into the schoolyard. He realised his teeth were tingling again, worse than ever.
‘Orange, this is Mauve. We are in position. Ready to begin next testing phase.’
Jason stopped in mid-stride, listening intently to the voices coming from his teeth.
‘That’s a roger, Mauve. Is Subject Alpha clear of the testing area?’
‘Affirmative, Orange. The boy is out in the yard – we nearly ran over the little idiot. We’re looking at him now, over.’
Jason swivelled slowly to stare at the van. He could see nothing through the dark windows. Swallowing a lump in his throat, he considered going over. No, he thought. No way. He ran on into the school, and hurried to his class.
They were doing art, and Miss Taylor had already given out paper and colouring pencils.
‘All right,’ she was saying. ‘Seeing as everybody seems to be in such a dark mood, I want you all to come up with a monster. Go mad with it – I want to see some really nasty beasts!’
Tony was sitting in Jason’s usual seat beside Vince, so the only free chair was beside Fintan. Heaving a disgusted sigh, Jason sat down and took out his pencil case. Miss Taylor gave him a sheet of paper, and he began to create a creature that looked like a carnivorous truck. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Fintan’s monster was quite different. It was a boy
with dark hair, solid black eyes, and bad teeth.
‘Very creepy, Fintan,’ Miss Taylor said from behind them. ‘But who’s copying who, here?’
Jason looked up at her, and back at Fintan’s drawing. Then he glanced past Fintan at what the Singh Twins were doing. They too, had drawn the dead-eyed ghost boy. From various points around him, he could hear the quiet grinding of teeth. Without thinking, Jason stood up, and walked around the class.
‘Jason!’ the teacher barked. ‘Get back to your seat!’
He didn’t hear her. He was looking at the pictures. They were all different styles, but they all showed the same thing. The boy with the black hair, the dark eyes, the jagged teeth, and the pale, lumpy face. Every kid in the class was drawing the ghost. They’d all seen him.
‘Jason! Miss Taylor’s voice snapped him out of his reverie.
‘Sorry, Miss.’
‘Sit down. And the rest of you, try and be a little more original …’ she paused, looking down at the drawings around her, and then over at Jason. ‘My God, Jason. I never even realised. I’m sorry.’
Before he could ask her what she meant, she slammed the book she was holding down on her desk, making them all jump.
‘I don’t know what you’re all playing at, but it’s a horrible thing to do,’ she shouted. ‘I want you all to tear those pictures up, and apologise to Jason right now!’
Most of them looked genuinely surprised that others had drawn the same thing. Some of the children started tearing up their pages. But Tony held onto his, looking away, and Vince folded his arms defiantly, casting a sullen eye at Jason.
‘I’m not apologising for nothin’,’ he said.
‘Then you can go and see the principal,’ Miss Taylor retorted.
Jason was no longer listening. From all around him, he could feel the hateful stares of his classmates. They had all seen the mysterious bully; they all had that scared, furtive look in their eyes. This thing was coming after all of them now.
‘What are you all looking at me for?’ he blurted out. ‘It’s not me! You know it’s not!’
In a moment of shock, he realised he was crying. He was blubbering like a little kid in front of his class.
‘Go to hell, the lot o’ yiz!’ he shrieked, and ran out of the classroom.
Miss Taylor was calling out from behind him, but he kept on running. Out of the school, across the yard, and out the gate. He charged straight across the road without even looking for oncoming cars, and slammed into the side of the white van, hammering on the door.
‘Get out, get out, get out, GET OUT OF THERE YOU RATS!’
Jason felt a sharp tingle in his teeth again, and instinctively went to scratch the imaginary itch with his fingernail. But the tingling in his braces rose like a fizzy drink exploding in his mouth, his head suddenly filled with white noise, deafening him.
‘Aaaugh!’ he screamed, falling to the ground.
He covered his ears, but it didn’t make any difference. The side-door to the back of the van slid open, and two men stepped out.
‘He could pick up the signal, then,’ Jason heard one of them say over the noise in his skull.
‘We’ll just have to see that never happens again, won’t we?’ the other one said.
That was all Jason heard, because at that point – much to his relief – he fainted.
9
A Secret Government Plot
The voices seemed very far away at first.
‘It must be his braces,’ someone said, in a gravelly growl. ‘They’re acting as a receiver. Picking up all our transmissions. They’re weird. Never seen anything like them before.’
‘Can we pull them off?’ another, watery voice asked.
‘Not without pulling out his teeth too. I’m no orthodontist.’
‘It’s just braces; it can’t be that hard!’ the watery one insisted.
‘Look at his teeth, for goodness sake!’ the gravelly voice whined. ‘It’s like some kind of tooth bomb went off in his mouth. And there’s enough wire in there to hook up some Christmas tree lights. I can’t do it, I’m tellin’ you. Not without taking out the teeth.’
Jason was wide awake now, but he stayed perfectly still, despite being terrified.
‘With teeth like that, we’d be doing the little brat a favour–’ the weaker voice paused. ‘Hey! You awake?’
A hand slapped Jason’s face.
‘Stop faking, you little maggot. Look at me!’
Jason opened his eyes.
He was in some kind of computer lab. Banks of technical-looking machines with screens and lights on them lined the walls. There was a hum of a hundred little fans running, and the smell of warm metal and dust was in the air. He was strapped to a stainless steel table shaped like a big fat ‘X’. A mass of cameras and needles and other gadgets hung from an arm above his head that reminded him of the lamp in the orthodontist’s.
There were three men in the room, all wearing long, dark coats and black sunglasses, even though it was warm, and there weren’t even any windows to let the sun in. Jason hated people who wore sunglasses indoors. The two really big guys looked almost exactly alike, except one was black, and one was white. They both had tight haircuts and designer stubble. The other man was smaller and chubbier, with fuzzy red hair, half-closed eyes, and an untidy goatee beard.
‘Let me go!’ Jason shouted, pulling at the straps.
‘Whoa, we’ve got a wild one here!’ the goateed one said, the one with the watery voice. ‘Calm down, kid. Don’t have a conniption! Steady now, we’re not going to hurt you, are we boys?’ ‘No way,’ the big white guy said. He had the gravelly voice.
‘We’re not out to hurt anyone,’ the big black guy added. He had a gravelly voice too. Almost exactly the same as his mate. Jason wondered if that ever got confusing.
‘These are just to stop you hurting yourself,’ the watery-voiced one waved at the straps holding Jason’s wrists and ankles. ‘And so you don’t go damaging our equipment. Nothing personal. You can call me Agent Orange, by the way. And these are Agents Indigo and Mauve.’
The two big guys nodded. Jason wondered which was which.
‘What’s going on?’ he asked in a surly tone.
‘I’m afraid you’ve stumbled upon a secret government plot,’ Agent Orange gave him an exaggerated frown. ‘A highly classified educational project. Even your teachers don’t know about it. In fact, you’re an important part of this project – even a vital one, you might say.’
‘Yeah, vital,’ one of the henchmen grunted with a smile.
Jason said nothing. He knew that this was where the bad guys would tell him everything, and he had to concentrate on escaping, so that he could get this out in the open and defeat the plot. That was how John Crater always did it in the Fireflight films. Bad guys couldn’t help themselves, they had to boast about how smart they were. That was always their undoing.
‘But anyway, enough of that,’ Orange stood up and went over to a control panel, and touched the commands on one of the screens. ‘We can’t go telling you all our plans, can we? Give me a minute here, and we’ll just pull those braces off – hopefully we’ll leave most of your teeth where they are – and then I’ll erase your memory … just the last couple of days or so, and then we’ll send you back to school. Lie back and relax, this won’t take long.’
Jason gazed up in horror at the apparatus hanging over him. Orange leaned in to attach a chain to his braces with a set of small claws. The other end of the chain was wrapped round a winch hanging from the ceiling.
‘I would say that this won’t hurt,’ he said, making a friendly grimace. ‘But it probably will.’
‘Wait!’ Jason exclaimed, his eyes as wide as saucers at the sight of the claws. He knew exactly how solidly those braces were bound to his teeth. ‘Aren’t you … I mean …’ His mind raced, as he tried to think of some way of keeping those claws away from his mouth. He couldn’t come up with anything – and so he did what came naturally. ‘To hell
with it – pull out my braces then! You think I’m scared of you? Wipe my memory, you pigs. I don’t want to remember you anyway. Who would? I mean look at you, tryin’ to look cool; wearin’ sunglasses inside and dressing like a bunch of … of science fiction nerds. When’s the UFO due? Secret agents? You must be kiddin’! You look more like a sad pack o’ mummy’s boys tryin’ to be with it. And what’s with your names? I mean, colours? That’s like from a kid’s programme isn’t it? What are you, cartoon characters? Or are you just a gang of big girls’ blouses?’ He put on a girlie voice. ‘Oh I want to be Agent Indigo – it, like, y’know, so goes with my handbag…’
Orange was looking back at Mauve and Indigo, grinning.
‘This is good stuff. We should be recording this.’
‘… Oh, I want to be Agent Mauve,’ Jason went on. ‘That way I can, like, paint my nails with my name, won’t that be so cool?’
He ran out of breath, and let out a burst of gasping laughter that surprised him as much as them. There was a sweet smell in the air that reminded Jason of something that he couldn’t put his finger on. Agent Orange was giggling as he reached over and pressed a button on the control panel. Then he continued attaching the cable to Jason’s braces.
‘No, no,’ he waved at Jason, chuckling. ‘Keep going, we can use this.’
‘Whah aw yow kalkin’ abou’?’ Jason demanded, around Agent Orange’s fingers. He was feeling dizzy now, and for reasons he couldn’t understand, the idea of having all his teeth pulled out in one go was starting to seem quite funny.
‘We came to your school trying to find all the meanest, slimiest, nastiest, most horrible bullies in the area for our experiments,’ Orange told him with a big grin, as he took out a small screwdriver and started adjusting the claws gripping Jason’s braces. ‘All the imaginative little rat pieces of lowlife scum. And you were one of our stars!’
