Snapdragon Book I: My Enemy

by Brandon Berntson

  Seth didn’t know why, but he liked the kid sitting next to him.

  The boy had made several comments throughout the morning. He felt the two of them were broadcasters at a sporting event, monitoring the movements of the classroom.

  “Did you know Sadie McCall?”

  Seth turned. The kid was staring at him. “Huh? No. Well, yes and no. I went to his birthday party last year. But I didn’t really know him. My mom made me go.” He thought of saying something like, “No. Do you know Ben? The tiger in the meadow?”

  “What’s your name?” the boy asked.

  “Seth.”

  “I’m Malcolm.”

  Malcolm. Seth wondered if he should put out his hand, but that seemed trite, even for ten-year-olds.

  “Hey, Malcolm!”

  Seth turned and saw a small Asian boy waving at Malcolm, a white, neatly pressed, button-up shirt tucked into black pants. He wore thick, black-framed glasses. Mousse kept his shiny black hair in place. He looked like a scientist, a miniature math wizard. All he needed was a polka-dotted bowtie, Seth thought. Curiously, Malcolm laughed at the boy.

  “That’s Eddie,” Malcolm said. He waved Eddie over, and the boy took a seat in front of Malcolm. “What’s up, Edds?”

  Eddie pushed his glasses onto his nose. They looked too big for his face. He set his binder on the desk, turning to Seth. “What’s your name?” he asked.

  Seth raised his eyebrows. He blushed again, uncomfortable with all the attention. “Seth Auburn.”

  “My name’s, Eddie Higglesby.”

  Is Higglesby an Asian name, Seth thought?

  “Nice to meet you,” he said.

  “You’ve met Malcolm?” Eddie asked.

  “We’ve been introduced,” Malcolm said, with scholarly appeal.

  Seth was surprised when Malcolm put out his hand. Seth gripped it and shook, wanting to laugh.

  “His grandfather’s a writer,” Eddie said, beaming.

  “Was a writer,” Malcolm said. “Now he’s just a—” Malcolm searched for words.

  “Retired?” Seth said.

  “Yeah,” Malcolm said, grinning. “He’s definitely retired.”

  “Hey,” Eddie said, changing the subject, and looked at Seth. “You like comic books?” Eddie Higglesby was anxious to make acquaintances, apparently.

  Seth was amused. He’d never be alone again.

  You were never alone to begin with.

  Ben?

  “I know Malcolm likes comics,” Eddie said. “He’s a Ghost Rider fan, huh, Malcolm?”

  “Hell spawn demon on a flaming motorcycle,” Malcolm said, staring into the confines of his book; only he didn’t seem to be reading.

  “Ghost Rider was popular in the seventies,” Eddie said. “I think it’s cool they brought those old guys back. Like the Surfer. I’m a Silver Surfer fan myself. Power Cosmic. What super-hero do you like, Seth?”

  “The same as everybody,” he said. “Spider-Man.”

  “Yeah” Eddie said. “Everybody likes the web-slinger. You don’t like Silver Surfer?”

  “Never heard of him,” Seth said.

  Eddie looked crestfallen.

  “He was a pansy in the late sixties,” Malcolm said, adding further sting to Eddie’s comic book icon. Eddie made a dramatic move to his heart as if someone had stabbed him. “People thought he was too sympathetic to mortals and never wanted to destroy the villains he actually faced, so no one wanted to read him.”

  “He’s back now, though,” Eddie said, sticking up for the Surfer.

  “Yeah,” Malcolm said. “And he’s a bigger cry-baby than ever before.”

  Seth laughed.

  Eddie wasn’t amused. “He’d kick Ghost Rider’s butt any day.”

  “Maybe,” Malcolm teased. “But he’d have to get over his insecurities just to fight. Do they have therapy for super-hero’s?” he asked Seth.

  Seth shrugged, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

  “Oh, that’s low!” Eddie said. Several kids looked their way.

  “Hey! You guys talking, comics?” The pale, creepy kid looked back at them. A bleach stain covered the shoulder of his blue shirt.

  Another boy a row up to Seth’s right with bright, carrot-colored hair, and wearing gold-rimmed glasses similar to Malcolm’s, was listening in as well. Seth smiled, and the boy nodded.

  “I heard, ‘Ghost Rider,’” the creepy kid said from up front. He stood up, walked over, then sat at the desk in front of Seth. Seth noticed his jeans frayed at the cuffs. The sole of his left shoe flapped when he walked. The mark on the kid’s neck was not a birthmark, but a huge, purple bruise. Seth looked away before the boy noticed him staring.

  “Yeah,” Eddie asked. “Who do you like?”

  “Spawn,” the kid said. “Ghost Rider’s cool, though. I like gruesome stuff.”

  I wonder what he thought of Sadie McCall? Seth thought.

  “Shoot! Spawn ain’t worth any money,” Eddie said. “We collect comics that are gonna be worth something someday. You know, like X-Men and Fantastic Four.”

  “Ain’t worth any money!” the kid said. “He’s not only worth money, he’d put a hurtin’ on all your Marvel Comic friends.”

  “Not the Surfer,” Eddie said.

  “Surfer Smurfer. What can he do?” The kid rolled his eyes.

  “He’s got the Power Cosmic,” Eddie said. “He can destroy an entire planet with a blast from one finger.” As if needing to emphasize the point, Eddie held a finger in front of the boy. “He’d turn Spawn into spaghetti sauce.”

  The ill-looking boy shook his head. “Jeez!” he said. “Spawn would dice him up. He’d load ’em full of bullet holes.”

  “Bullet holes wouldn’t do anything,” Eddie said, on the verge of laughter. “Heck! The Surfer’s practically invincible.”

  “Oh, well that’s original,” the boy said. “How are you supposed to have a good story with someone who can’t even die? All his comics are probably the same. You’d never feel any suspense cause you know nothing can happen to him.”

  “He’s a pansy,” Malcolm said. “He’s the most powerful cry-baby in the universe.” Malcolm gave Eddie a look that said he was only joking.

  The haunted boy looked at Eddie, then burst out laughing.

  “Oh ha ha ha,” Eddie said, playing along. Even the boy with the gold-rimmed glasses and red hair was listening in, laughing. “Very funny. Just a bunch of freakin’ comedians. If the Surfer were here, you’d all be toast.”

  This made the boys laugh again. Seth wanted to say something to make Eddie feel better, but he couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

  “You guys like the Fantastic Four?” said the kid with red hair two seats away. He was smaller than Eddie, Seth noticed.

  “Yeah? What’s your name?” Eddie asked.

  “Howard,” the boy said. “Howard Colorcup.” The boy shifted in his seat. “Ya know, if it weren’t for the Fantastic Four, the Surfer would’ve never made it back to Zenn-La.”

  Everyone looked at one another, raising their eyebrows.

  Eddie nodded happily. “At least someone here’s got good taste.”

  “Isn’t anyone gonna ask my name?” the ill-looking boy asked.

  “No one cares about Spawn freaks,” Eddie said, still somewhat wounded.

  The boy turned and faced the front of the class. He couldn’t win with the ladies, and he couldn’t make an impression with Seth’s new friends.

  Mrs. Dunbar—a short, gray-haired woman—walked into the classroom then, wearing a blue and white striped dress. Silver glasses connected to a long chain around her neck.

  The bell rang, and everybody scurried to the last available seats.

  “Take your seats,” Mrs. Dunbar said, in a sweet, obnoxious voice. “Take your seats everyone. The bell has rung.”

  Kids shuffled to their seats, taking off backpacks, and setting folders and notebooks on their desks. The more studious kids sat in the front row, opened their notebooks,
and got their pencils ready.

  Mrs. Dunbar wrote her name on the chalkboard with pretentious pomp in long swoops and swirls, then turned and addressed the class: “My name is, Mrs. Dunbar,” she said, in belittling fashion, loud and clear. “Can you say, ‘Mrs. Dunbar?’”

  “You’ve got to be kidding,” Malcolm said, slumping in his seat.

  Seth couldn’t help but share Malcolm’s disgust while the rest of the class piped: “Mrs. Dumm—barr!”

  “This can’t be happening,” Malcolm said.

  “Now then,” Mrs. Dunbar said, peering over the top of her glasses. “I’ll grant you the liberty of sitting where you want, but you must promise you won’t disrupt class while I’m conducting the lessons. In case you haven’t noticed, the bell has rung. I’m going to call role to make sure everyone is present and accounted for.”

  “Please, God, help me,” Malcolm groaned, and put his head on his arms.

  Seth thought Mrs. Dunbar’s behavior a trifle pretentious, to say the least.

  She called out their names one by one, catching Seth unawares by calling on Malcolm first, Rebecca Anderson second, and him, third. Kids raised their hands, calling, “Here!” When Mrs. Dunbar reached the letter M, Seth’s world came to an abrupt halt.

  “Kinsey MacKay?” Mrs. Dunbar said.

  Several rows up, and two rows to the left, sat the prettiest girl Seth had ever seen aside from Jeanie Masterson. Jeanie, of course, was already sixteen, and Kinsey was roughly his own age, but Seth’s heart galloped in his chest when he looked at her. He couldn’t stop staring. Dark, reddish brown hair spilled to her shoulders, two pink barrettes fixed above each ear. Her eyes were huge, deeper and darker than Jeanie’s root beer brown. Kinsey MacKay was a striking beauty.

  When he realized he was gawking like an idiot, he turned away, and closed his mouth.

  Kinsey raised her hand and said, “Here,” in a voice that mesmerized him.

  Easy, champ.

  Was that Ben again? How was he supposed to enjoy his first day of school if the tiger kept invading his thoughts?

  “So much for privacy,” he said.

  “What?” Malcolm asked.

  “Nothing,” Seth said, and blushed, looking at Kinsey again.

  Seth’s imagination overrode every reverie of Jeanie Masterson. Kinsey tugged at him with mystic power. He felt helpless suddenly. If love at first sight was real, Seth was experiencing it now.

  You know, if you told her that, she’d think you were a wacko. It sounds okay when you’re ten, but only to you. Wait ’til you’re older. And what about Jeanie?—a voice said. You remember the pond, the kiss, the flirtation, and the ice cream? You remember how those lips felt pressed against yours?

  It wasn’t as if he had a chance to live happily ever after with Jeanie Masterson. Weren’t those fantasies merely that…fantasies?

  No offense, Jeanie, he thought. I’ll always love you. But this transcends everything. This is more than infatuation.

  But who was he kidding? He was getting carried away already, imagining the rest of his life with Kinsey when he didn’t even know her: marriage, family? Perfect love? What made him think he’d be that lucky? What made him think she’d even notice him?

  Yeah, he thought. You’re just a stupid kid who can’t pay attention. So, forget it.

  But looking at Kinsey, the last thing he could do was forget it. He saw nothing else. Difficult year? With these distractions? Seth felt doomed already.

  Chuckling filled the space in his head, the laugh of a tiger.

  Seth forced himself to look away, and it took all his willpower to do it.

  Mrs. Dunbar finished role and told the students what to expect in the coming year. Suddenly, Seth wasn’t sure what class he was in. Reading and writing, arithmetic, social studies? Seth noticed Gavin Lolly, the haunted boy, looking at Kinsey as well, and felt a pang of jealousy. The only reason he’d caught Gavin’s name was because it had come before MacKay.

  “The seats you pick tomorrow will be assigned to you for the rest of the year,” Mrs. Dunbar said, in the same, patronizing tone. “I’m being more lenient than most teachers, so make sure you behave. I don’t want to have to separate you later.”

  Seth sighed. His eyes shifted to Kinsey again.

  “Like what you see?”

  He turned. Malcolm was smiling at him.

  Seth groaned, blushed, and sank further into his seat.

  The interminable school year had begun.

  ii

  You’re growing up, and things are going to change.

  It was Ben again.

  A gradual shift took place inside, but he didn’t know if he wanted the shift. Ben said he was an instrument; that he needed him. What did it matter if he wanted change? Change would happen whether he wanted it or not; it was happening now. He could rebel, but change would still occur.

  The first day of school, despite the pompous Mrs. Dunbar, proved promising. The summer was one he would never forget. Another part of him, however, longed for the solitude of the meadow again, to think freely with the roaming wild of his imagination. He learned more about himself and Ellishome, more about things out of his control than he’d ever experienced before.

  Not a simple, quiet boy any longer, are you?

  Ben chuckled again, and Seth thought the sound strange. He hadn’t seen the tiger since that night in the meadow when Ben had shown him his immortal companion, yet the tiger was with him now.

  Do you know what it takes to be a young man?

  Young man? He was only starting the fifth grade!

  Mommy, the reason my grades are slipping is because this tiger talks to me from the meadow. His name is Ben. He’s a real nice tiger, Mom. You’d like him.

  Anyway, he’s been telling me about this thing that’s out here, what killed Sadie. It rides a horse. I think it’s the bogeyman. And then Jeanie Masterson, well, I just can’t seem to get her out of my mind. It’s a lot for a kid to deal with.

  Seth grinned, still daydreaming in the classroom. Malcolm looked at him, amused.

  “Something funny?” the boy asked.

  Seth blushed. “Just thinking.”

  He was already facing his first problem. Mrs. Dunbar had been talking for a while now, and Seth hadn’t been paying attention. He felt weird, sitting here, thinking about the summer. He couldn’t grasp the fact that school had already started, and Ben had left an imprint as well.

  He’d been thinking about change, but already he wanted life to go back to normal.

  Kinsey captured his attention also. As the hours trudged by, Seth couldn’t seem to look at her enough.

  He closed his eyes. Mrs. Dunbar was talking about Mrs. Higgins, the math teacher, and Mr. Bimble, the physical education teacher, something about walking in single file down the hallway as they switched from one classroom to another.

  Seth opened his eyes. Malcolm looked at him again.

  “You’re a dreamer, too,” the boy said.

  iii

  At ten-thirty, Mrs. Dunbar’s class moved into Mrs. Higgins room for math and science. The day proceeded with gym, art, music, then back to Mrs. Dunbar’s room for history.

  When the final bell rang, everyone heaved a sigh, especially Malcolm. The more studious kids lingered after, asking Mrs. Dunbar questions.

  “Hey, you want to walk home together?” Eddie asked Seth.

  “Sure,” Seth told him.

  They walked outside and were soon standing at the corner of First Avenue and Maple Street where Ellishome Elementary School sat situated on a vast green lawn bordered by a high chain-link fence. Kids idled about, rode home with parents, or climbed aboard the school bus. Some walked home, others riding bikes, some on skateboards. The sun was out in a sky patched with thin clouds, the day warm and breezy.

  Malcolm walked alongside them with a black and yellow BMX. “Well, I’m off this way,” he said, nodding northwards. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”

  “Bye, Malcolm,” Eddie said, wavin
g.

  Malcolm hopped on his bike and pedaled off down the street. Gavin lagged behind Seth and Eddie. Seth wondered if the kid resented Eddie’s comment about ‘Spawn freaks,’ the reason he kept his distance.

  A young blonde girl, smacking on a piece of gum behind the wheel of a silver Mercedes, waited for Howard at the curb. Seth wondered if it was Howard’s sister. Gavin teased him about his luxury ride, but Howard didn’t seem too thrilled about it. Eddie and Seth waved to the boy, and Howard returned the wave through the window. He and the bubble-gum chewing blonde drove away.

  “It doesn’t look like it’ll be the worst year,” Seth told Eddie.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about Kinsey, even now. In gym class, she’d sat right beside him. Seth thought it had to do with Malcolm and the boy’s clever rearranging of the line, so they could walk in together. All it did was make Seth breathe heavily, his palms breaking out in sweat. Seth, standing next to Kinsey, shuffled his feet and looked awkwardly at his shoes, feeling ridiculous and foolish.

  “Yeah,” Eddie said, as they walked. “I think it’ll be kind of cool. We can hang out on the weekends and watch movies at my house, if you want. We have a big screen t.v. in the basement. I’ll have to ask Mom, though.”

  “That sounds cool,” Seth said, wondering what life would be like with a big screen television.

  Eddie did most of the talking as they walked, and Seth’s thoughts veered from Kinsey to the meadow, a stranger on a horse…

  My enemy. My phantom adversary—

  Was summer really over?

  The weather was much warmer as they walked. Sweat gathered on Seth’s palm where he carried his books.

  “Shoot! I can’t go that way!” Gavin said from behind them. “I have to go up Columbus.”

  Eddie and Seth turned. Gavin eyed the street as if it were an entity. Eddie and Seth were quick to notice the change. Gavin did not want walk down Columbus Avenue. The boy had spent the last hour fidgeting uncomfortably in his desk. Seth thought he was simply anxious for the day to be over. He looked at the bruise on Gavin’s neck and wondered what waited for him at home.

  “Well,” Gavin said. “I’ll see you guys tomorrow.” Gavin lifted his hand, then dropped it in a thoughtless wave. His chin fell to his chest, and he kicked at a rock on the sidewalk. The sole of his shoe flapped, slapping against the cement.