by David Lubar
Kay tried to remember if she’d visited this playground before. She’d been watching Tommy almost every day for these first three weeks of summer, and she’d dragged the sticky little nose-picker to a lot of places. They’d all looked pretty much the same. This one was a bit shabbier than some. But it wasn’t like any of the equipment was actually dangerous. It wouldn’t do to bring the little bug home with broken parts. Kay suspected Mrs. Walton wouldn’t pay her if her precious Tommy snapped an arm or a leg or cut his forehead open on a rusty piece of jagged metal.
There didn’t seem to be any danger of that at the moment. The monkey bars looked safe enough to Kay. The little cockroach wasn’t so high up that a fall would fracture anything important. Kay settled back on the bench and glanced around. Usually there were other sitters to talk to. Not today.
Next to the bench, Kay saw a garbage barrel, and next to that another large barrel for aluminum cans. A sign on the second barrel read: PLEASE RECYCLE. Kay sipped the last drops of her soda, then tossed the can toward the barrels. It hit the rim of one, then bounced to the ground. Kay laughed. It didn’t matter if she missed—someone would pick it up. That was the nice thing about recycling, as far as Kay was concerned—there was always someone willing to step in and do the job.
No matter how unpleasant a job, there was always someone who would do it … for a price. Kay knew she was living proof of that theory. But there were lots of worse things in life than watching a slimy little grub run around. And it wasn’t like she’d be doing it the rest of her life.
Kay looked at the piece of equipment nearest her bench. It was one of those tube slides—a big, slanted plastic tube with a ladder at one end. The middle of the tube was held up from the ground on another short tube. A little kid was just springing out the bottom. Kay watched him slide to the ground and land on his feet. His untied sneakers hit the dirt with a plock. He bent his knees, taking the jolt like an expert, and ran off. A moment later, a second kid came out. Plock. Kay glanced at the top—there were no other kids waiting to enter the slide.
For a moment, Kay thought about going through the slide herself. It almost looked like fun. But she was too old for that. And what if one of her friends saw her? She’d never live it down.
“Kay! Watch me!” Tommy screamed from the monkey bars. He was hanging from a bar at one corner, swinging his body and kicking his legs. Kay turned her head his way for a moment. She didn’t even bother trying to appear interested. The little worm seemed satisfied just to have her eyes aimed in his direction.
Plock. Another kid had just come out of the tube slide. Like the first two, he hit the ground with both feet and went running off.
Kay hadn’t noticed him at the top of the ladder. She realized the kid must have climbed in when she’d looked toward Tommy. For all the noise they usually made, there were times when little kids could move as silently as spiders.
“Push me, Kay!” Tommy called as he ran from the monkey bars to the swings. “Push me! Push me! Push me! Push me!”
“They don’t pay me enough for this,” Kay muttered as she trudged over to him. She noticed that there were a lot of kids in the playground. They all looked the same, except for Tommy, who was a stupid little four-year-old dressed in jeans and a red shirt. The rest of them were mostly stupid little four-year-olds dressed in jeans and blue shirts.
Kay gave Tommy a push, resisting the urge to shove the ridiculous creature right off the swing, then went back to the bench. As she sat, another kid came out of the slide. He hit—plock—stood for a second as if figuring out where he was, then went running off to the seesaws.
Kay could have sworn she hadn’t seen anyone go in the top. She got up and walked to the slide, then bent to look inside the bottom of the tube. An odd smell drifted out, moist and old, like the scent of earth beneath a rock. Kay could barely make out a dark place where the slide rested on the support tube. It almost looked like a hole, but she knew that couldn’t be right. If there were a hole in the middle, the kids would fall in.
Unless …
Kay had a glimmer of an idea, but it was too strange. She let it go and went back to the bench. Tommy came running over. “Play seesaw with me,” he demanded.
Kay shook her head. The last thing she wanted was a seat full of splinters. “Why don’t you make some friends?” she suggested.
“They don’t like me,” Tommy said.
Now there’s a surprise, Kay thought. But all she said was, “Go back to the swings. Practice pumping. I’ll be right here.”
Tommy ran off. Kay watched as he wove his way around the other kids, keeping as much distance from each of them as possible. It reminded her of a video game.
A moment later, another kid came sliding out of the end of the tube. Plock. The place was crawling with kids. Kay was sure it was more crowded now. There were kids piled on the seesaws and the swings and all over the climbing equipment. There were kids running around chasing each other in a nonstop game of tag. But there weren’t any parents or sitters in sight. Kay glanced at the parking lot next to the playground. It was empty. She thought about leaving. Tommy would pitch a fit. But he’d do that whether they left now, or in ten minutes, or in ten hours.
Kay checked her watch. It was only a few minutes after eleven. She figured she’d wait another half hour, then drag Tommy home. With luck, he’d be tired by then.
As Kay sat and waited for time to pass, she noticed something odd. There weren’t any girls in the playground. Kay looked around to make sure she wasn’t mistaken. As she did, another little kid popped out from the end of the tube slide. It was a boy. He looked just like all the others.
It was almost as if—No, she dropped that thought. It was too ridiculous.
“Don’t be silly,” she whispered. Kay shifted uncomfortably on the bench. Maybe it was time to leave.
Another kid came out of the slide.
Maybe it was time to leave right now.
Yes. Time to get Tommy and head home, Kay thought. It was definitely time to get out.
Plock. Two more feet hit the dirt in front of the slide.
Kay jumped up from the bench. The playground was swarming with kids. They were everywhere. Everywhere except the top of the slide, Kay realized. She was certain she hadn’t seen a single one of those kids go in the top.
They all just slid out the bottom.
It was almost like … She took a deep breath, not wanting to think about that image but unable to keep her mind from turning down that dark corner—almost like insects. Kay shivered as she remembered a film she’d seen in science class. In a disgustingly large close-up shot, a swollen termite queen was popping out one egg after another. Smooth, slimy, white eggs squeezed out. Plock. Thousands of them. Plock, plock, plock. Kay couldn’t wipe the image from her mind. She knew what was happening. Instead of eggs, the tube was plocking out snotty little kids, creating thousands of workers to serve its needs.
“That’s crazy,” Kay said.
She started to move away from the bench.
“Kay, look at me!” Tommy shouted from high up on the swings.
Kay hesitated. She wanted to run from the playground, but there’d be big trouble if she left Tommy. She stepped toward him.
Kids swarmed forward and blocked her way. Another kid slid from the slide. Plock—his feet hit the dirt. The mob moved closer. They were all around her. Except for the swing that held Tommy, the equipment was empty. They’d all left the swings and seesaws and monkey bars to gather around her. Kay could feel them pushing in from the sides and from behind.
Insects, Kay thought as she stared into the empty faces of little kids closing in around her. They pressed closer. They all looked the same, and none of them looked quite right. This close, Kay saw that their arms were a bit too long, their heads a bit too small. The skin of their fingers as they grasped at her was slippery and wet.
Plock. Another kid came from the slide. Plock. Plock. Two more.
Kay was sure, now.
The
y surged against her. They shoved. They herded. They lifted her. Kay grabbed the bench, struggling to keep her feet on the ground. They pried her fingers loose and raised her over their heads. Dozens of hands held her up in the air.
“No!” Kay screamed.
They carried her toward the slide.
“Not there!” Kay tried to twist from their grip. “Please, not there …”
None of the kids spoke. But all together, they produced a droning buzz that filled her ears.
Across the playground, Tommy was still swinging, trying to pump himself higher.
Little rat, Kay thought. No, she realized. He wasn’t a rat. He was an insect. They were all insects.
They hauled her toward the top of the slide. Behind her, more were born. Plock. Plock. Plock. They lifted her higher, crawling on top of each other to form a mound. The droning buzz grew louder and louder until it filled her head and made her body vibrate. The tube swallowed the sunlight as Kay slid in. She clutched at the edge for an instant, but a dozen tiny hands pushed her deeper.
Kay lost her grip. She slid. Halfway down, she fell into a hole. For an instant, Kay remembered the high dive, and the stomach-lurching feeling of plummeting toward the water.
Kay dropped.
Her fall ended far too soon. She hit something large and soft and moist, like a giant, living wound. Kay sank. Ankles, knees, then thighs slipped into the goo. It was a huge insect, Kay realized, living in darkness, too swollen to move, buried in a hive beneath the playground, producing countless insect children. Here it waited, fat and slow and blind.
Beneath her, in a voice that came right into her mind, she heard a huge and old and terribly strange life-form speak.
“Oh, good,” it said. “You are here. Good. Thank you, my children.”
Kay sank deeper into the moist mass of flesh. All around, she could feel the little ones emerging, scrambling out and climbing toward the tube that led to the middle of the slide.
Kay’s last thought almost made her laugh. This creature was about to absorb her, using her to create more of its own kind. She realized she was about to be recycled.
Somewhere outside and above, the buzz of the children drowned out any sounds Kay made.
BIG KIDS
My friend Stu is scared of just about everything. He’s almost a year younger than me. I guess that makes a difference, because he’s always saying “Watch out for this,” or “Look out for that.” He’s especially scared of the Big Kids. He’ll say, “Don’t go in there, Danny, the Big Kids will get you,” or, “We’d better leave before some Big Kids come.”
I don’t see what the problem is—I’ll bet I could outrun any Big Kid. I could probably outfight most of them, too. Not that I want to find out …
We’d been swimming in the quarry that day. Actually, I’d been swimming. Stu was too chicken to go into the water. He was afraid he’d get a cramp and drown, or that some girls would come along and see him in his underwear. So I was swimming and Stu was sitting. That’s when I got the idea. “Hey, Stu,” I said, treading water.
“Yeah?” He glanced up from the stick he was peeling.
“It’s too hot here. Let’s go to the caves.”
He stared at me like I had suggested we jump off a bridge. “No way. There might be Big Kids there.”
“Come on, nobody goes there. It’ll be great.”
Stu shook his head. I got out of the water and climbed up the steep bank. In a few minutes, the hot sun had dried me better than any towel could. “Come on, the caves.”
“Not.”
“Come on. Are you chicken? Let’s go.”
Stu shook his head. “I don’t want to.”
I put on my jeans and shirt. “I’m going. You do what you want.” I’d learned that trick from my parents. I started walking. In a few seconds, I heard Stu running to catch up.
“But what if there are—”
“No problem. I’ll deal with anything that comes up.” After all this talk, I was almost hoping to run into some Big Kids. I’d show Stu there was nothing to worry about.
Stu jabbered a bit more on the way to the caves, but I didn’t pay much attention. He hung back when I reached the entrance. I went ahead without waiting for him. It got dark pretty quickly, but there were enough cracks and openings that the passageways never got completely black. I figured Stu would catch up with me in a minute. I went a few feet farther, then stopped, expecting to hear Stu chugging up behind me. Instead, I heard a shout.
“Ow!”
I ran back to the entrance. Wouldn’t you know that bad stuff always happens to whoever expects it to happen? I think if you’re afraid enough of something and worry enough, it almost has to happen. So there was Stu, caught by the one thing he feared the most. Yup, the Big Kids had him. They formed a ring around Stu and were pushing him back and forth, like a game of human hot potato. His face was pretty much frozen with terror and red enough to use for a stop sign.
I figured I could wait and see how bad it got, or I could rush in now and try to help him. So far, they were just pushing. There was a good chance they’d get bored with Stu and leave him in a minute or two.
I’d forgotten that Big Kids can get really cruel when they’re bored.
One of them hit Stu a hard shot to the stomach. “Ooff,” Stu grunted. He doubled over and staggered back, crashing into the Big Kid who was closest to the mouth of the cave.
I was moving before I even realized what was happening.
As the Big Kid stumbled from the impact, I stuck my foot out behind him. He went over backward. I reached out, grabbed Stu by the arm, and yanked.
“Huh?” he cried out.
“Shut up and run.” I pushed Stu ahead of me. The surprise was worth a few seconds’ head start. There was a good chance we could escape.
“Get them!” one of the Big Kids shouted from behind us.
Stu was whimpering, but he kept up his speed. I herded him, taking the familiar turns. I really knew the caves as well as anyone.
At least, I thought I did.
After a while, the sound of the Big Kids’ footsteps faded. We’d escaped. At worst, they’d be waiting at the mouth of the cave. But they wouldn’t stay there forever. They’d get tired of waiting, and they’d leave.
“Thanks,” Stu said quietly when we stopped running.
“Anytime.”
“I told you the Big Kids would get us.”
I nodded. But there were more important worries to distract me. I was pretty sure I knew the way out, but the chamber around us didn’t seem familiar. I started tracing the way back, trying to remember the path we’d taken.
“You sure this is how we came?” Stu asked.
“I don’t know.” I didn’t recognize the shaft we were in. It led up at a slight angle, but it kept getting narrower. The ceiling was so low, I was almost crawling.
“This can’t be right,” Stu said.
“Yeah. Maybe we should turn back.” I looked ahead. “Hang on—I think it gets wider.” Sure enough, a bit farther along the shaft got bigger. Then it opened into a large chamber.
And there were Big Kids there.
Different Big Kids.
I didn’t see them at first. I climbed up on a boulder that was near the opening. It was warm. It moved. It wasn’t a boulder. It was a toe. A big toe …
Stu made a gurgling sound as he stared at the huge foot. To be fair, I wasn’t saying much either. In fact, I’m sure any bat in the cave would have had no trouble flying into my open mouth at that moment.
“Hi,” one of the Big Kids said. His voice rumbled through the chamber. I looked up. Trickles of light filtered in from cracks in one of the side walls, but the speaker’s head was lost in the darkness far above me.
“Uh … hi,” I said.
“Whatcha doing?” another voice asked.
“We were running from some Big … uh, from some bullies,” I told him.
“I hate bullies,” the first Big Kid said.
“Me,
too,” another agreed.
“So do I.”
I was surprised by this last voice. It was Stu. I guess once you face your worst fears, you can either crumple up or you can deal with things. To my surprise, Stu seemed to be dealing with the situation. “If you tell me how to get out of here,” he said, “I’ll bring some tiny little bullies for you to play with. Okay?”
“Deal,” one of the Big Kids said. A huge hand descended from the darkness and reached out to seal the bargain with a shake. Stu held out his own insignificant, microscopic hand and grasped the Big Kid’s fingertip.
“Go straight back until you reach the wall,” the Big Kid said. “Then keep making lefts. You can’t miss the exit.”
“Thanks.” Stu headed out.
I started to follow him, but he turned and said, “Stay here. This is for me to do.”
He went off, walking tall, then ducked into the tunnel and disappeared. I stayed and made small talk with the Big Kids. I wasn’t sure what they were like, and I didn’t want to say anything that might upset them, so I let them do most of the talking. In a while, I heard the sounds of a mob heading this way. Stu came racing in, panting and puffing but looking pretty happy to be in the lead.
“Get the little weasel!” someone behind him shouted.
“Smash him!”
“Pound him to bits!”
They came tearing in after Stu, popping one by one through the narrow opening like marbles spilling out of a bottle.
Hands swept down and grabbed the bullies the way I’d grab a root beer from the cooler in the corner store. The hands rose again, with tiny arms and legs dangling at all angles, kicking and twitching and flailing. There were some shouts and a lot of whimpers.
“Thanks, guys,” Stu said as we walked to the exit of the chamber.
“Our pleasure,” a Big Kid said. He rattled a bully in his fist like a can of spray paint that needed mixing. “Thanks for the toys. Come see us again.”
“We sure will,” Stu said. He led us out.
“What do you feel like doing?” I asked as we walked away from the mouth of the cave. It was still early.
