Snapdragon Book I: My Enemy

by Brandon Berntson

  “I have a date,” Seth said, proudly.

  “Oh, you have a date, do you?” Masie said, folding her arms.

  She was sitting on the couch with her feet tucked under her. The television was on. Lately, it seemed everyone was smiling. Malcolm had been smiling; Kinsey had been smiling. He had been smiling, and now, here was Masie, smiling, smiling. Seth didn’t know whether to laugh of gag. He was hanging around Malcolm too much. Masie, though, seemed to have some secrets of her own.

  Seth sat on the couch next to her.

  “And who, pray tell, do you have a date with?” Masie asked. “Not Jeanie Masterson, I hope?”

  “Nope,” Seth said. “A girl named Kinsey MacKay.”

  “Hmmm,” Masie said. “I don’t know any foxes by that name. Where are you taking this special girl?”

  “I don’t know,” Seth said, playing along. “I was thinking of taking her to Warton’s Pond. Isn’t that what you guys do?”

  Masie laughed.

  “Just kidding,” Seth said. “We’re having a skate party at school. I asked her if she wanted to go. And she said yes.”

  “Gonna let her sit on the handlebars while you pedal?”

  “Of course.”

  “Well,” Masie said. “That’s the coolest. It just so happens I have a date myself.”

  “No way!”

  “Rudy McCall.”

  “Sadie’s older brother?”

  “Yep,” she said. “It’s not a real date, though. He was supposed to meet me at my locker after school on Friday, but something came up. I got a note telling me he was sorry. Something about his mother. She doesn’t seem to be doing so hot. I think he just needs someone to talk to.”

  “Hmmm,” Seth said.

  “You go easy on Kinsey, tiger,” Masie said. “And you might not want to tell Jeanie. She’ll be jealous.”

  Seth thought about Ben and how people had been calling him tiger for a long time now. “Masie?”

  “Yes.”

  “When are we gonna go out again? With Rheanna and Jeanie?”

  Masie mulled this over and said, “I don’t know. Jeanie said something about going to the drive-in the last time I talked to her. How would that suit you?”

  Seth’s eyes lit up. “That would be cool,” he said.

  “You’re not thinking of two-timing already, are you?” Masie asked.

  He grinned. “No. I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Just making sure,” Masie said.

  ix

  Howard Colorcup was alone in the house with Francis Deveroux, his parents still gone on a business trip.

  Francis thought Howard easy enough to baby-sit. At times, though, she couldn’t stand him! He never left her alone! If she didn’t need this baby-sitting job so bad, she’d have quit long ago. He always wanted to play. Sometimes, he came downstairs while she was talking on the phone to Greg Sehorn when she really wanted to be alone. Howard would linger, making a sandwich, trying to get her attention. He’d sit there as if waiting for her to get off the phone. Howard talked funny, too, because he always had that disgusting retainer in his mouth. It drove Francis crazy! It wasn’t her fault he didn’t have any friends, and he had everything in the world to keep him occupied, too. She’d never seen a kid with so many toys before! And he never played with any of them! No! Howard would rather talk to her!

  “Why don’t you go watch one of your stupid movies and leave me alone,” Francis would tell him.

  Howard tried telling his parents he wanted a new baby-sitter. But it was his responsibility to get along with her, they’d said. She was trying to save money to buy a car.

  Howard was glad when school started. He’d made his place with some of the kids there, and they didn’t seem to mind the stupid retainer. They welcomed him into their gang even though Howard didn’t talk much because of the stupid retainer. He hated the retainer as much as he hated Francis. Maybe this year he would bring one of his new friends over. They could play with all the stupid toys as far as he was concerned. They could come over for the stupid toys! Howard didn’t care, as long as someone came over! They could even have the stupid toys!

  Howard did have the telescope, though, the only possession he really cared about, one of the many gifts he’d received from his parents. He got it last year for Christmas. His dad had set it up by his bedroom window. Howard could look at the stars and the moon for hours at a time. His dad had told him about the meteor shower last year, and it just happened to be a clear night. It was one of the finer moments he’d shared with his dad. They must’ve switched back and forth for two straight hours, staring through the telescope as meteors filled the night sky.

  Howard liked the telescope because he knew somewhere out in that vast, limitless universe, another child was staring through a telescope looking at him. Howard didn’t know how he knew this; he just did. Sometimes, you just needed to know you weren’t alone in the world.

  Any day, he thought. Any day, and I will not be so alone.

  He would meet the boy on the other side of the universe, staring through a similar telescope. They could send signals back and forth like Morse code.

  “You’re out there, aren’t you?” Howard said, into the dark night sky, peering through the telescope now. The boy was there on a distant planet somewhere, looking at the same stars, doing exactly what Howard was doing. All Howard had to do was find him.

  At least he had the telescope, something to take his mind off his stupid parents, and Francis Deveroux.

  “There you are looking through that stupid telescope again,” Francis told him one day. She’d been wondering what he was doing, why she hadn’t heard a peep out of him for several hours, and come upstairs to investigate.

  Howard looked up at Francis, ignored her, then looked through the telescope again. She almost seemed disappointed.

  Another time, he’d been sitting at the kitchen counter eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich while Francis was talking to Greg Sehorn on the phone.

  “Who’th Greg?” he asked, the retainer clearly having an effect on his speech.

  “He’s my boyfriend,” Francis said. “Now, leave me alone.”

  “Wha’s he do? Play foo’ball? Ith he in high thool?”

  “Yeah, he’s in high school, you little twerp. Now, leave me alone! Can’t you see I’m on the phone?”

  But Howard wasn’t daunted. “Doths he play foo’ball or not?”

  “Yes! Yes! He plays football! Now shut-up!”

  Howard winced. Jeez! He wondered if Greg appreciated having Francis scream into his ear like that. Real attractive, Howard thought.

  After he ate his peanut butter and jelly sandwich, he made a glass of milk, and took it upstairs. He didn’t say anything to Francis for the rest of the night.

  “Thcrew you, Fran-th’s” he said, thinking of that day. “And thcrew you too, Mom and Dad.”

  Howard started to cry. He hated his life. He hated the house. He hated the toys, and he really hated Francis. He hated her because she always picked him up from school everyday, driving his dad’s brand new Mercedes. He couldn’t go outside by himself to play, and here was Francis—a total stranger—trusted with his dad’s car! Why couldn’t Howard just walk home?

  When he choked back the sobs, Howard peered through the telescope again, sniffing back tears. “Plee-th,” he said, in desperation. “Plee-th be there. Let me fin’ you today. Plee-th. I hate it here. I hate it!”

  After school, Howard thought he would find someone—a little boy with red hair, wearing glasses, a retainer in his mouth—peering through a bright red telescope like he was doing. He could feel it. He would make contact. He would see a boy from far away, living on the moon, looking through a telescope, an exact replica of Howard and his life.

  But it never happened.

  In the dark, all Howard saw was the same stupid moon, the same dumb stars, not even a degenerate comet.

  “Ith a thtoopid telethcope anyway,” Howard said. “I hate it. I hate every-the
eng about thith thtoopid pla-th.” He put his head in his hands and cried. “And I hate you, Fran-th’s!” he shouted. “I hate you more th’n ANYTHEENG!”

  When Howard looked at Francis, he sometimes saw a face of bones, like the magician who’d come into his room the other night. But lately, it had gotten worse. Now, when he looked at her, her face writhed with a mass of black widows.

  x

  The day Rudy approached Masie in the hallway hadn’t turned out the way she’d hoped. Rudy’s father had tracked him down at school and asked him to come home. The note in Masie’s locker explained everything, not in vivid detail, but enough. ‘Mom’s not well. I’ll see you soon,’ the note had said, and that was all. She hoped Rudy was okay.

  It was Wednesday afternoon, five days after Rudy had talked to her in the hallway. The day was bright and warm, the air still and heavy with an uncomfortable heat. The early hints of autumn on the first day of school had vanished, and summer, at least for the moment, was back in full swing.

  Masie waited outside in front of the arcade, Game Busters, in downtown Ellishome. She was in the shade under the awning. Sweat beaded her forehead. Rudy had called her thirty minutes before, just after school had let out, asking if she was free to talk. She was glad he’d called, she’d said. And yes, she was free.

  She hadn’t expected it to be so hot, but was glad she’d opted for her light, summery shorts and sandals. Her hair was in a ponytail.

  It was strange, she thought. Strange for complete strangers to get to together and talk about their problems as if they were old friends. But something about this—despite how awkward it should feel—seemed the most natural thing in the world.

  Masie leaned against the tall glass window of the arcade. It was cooler in the shade. To her left, the door was propped open by a large rock. The bells and dings of pinball machines rang through the air, along with the galactic sounds of spaceships, laser-fire, and explosions. She heard the slap and crack of an air-hockey game. Kids laughed and hollered.

  Rudy, she saw, was coming up the block to her right. She waved, and he put his hand in the air. He was wearing a white Led Zeppelin T-shirt, blue jeans, and flip-flops. He smiled, squinting against the sun’s glare. “Wasn’t expecting this heat,” he said. “You wanna go someplace cool?”

  “Thirsty Burst is only a couple of blocks away,” Masie said. “And they have air conditioning.”

  “I should have had you wait there out of the heat,” Rudy said. “Sorry I’m late.”

  Masie shrugged as if it made no difference to her. They walked north, back the way Rudy had come along Main Street.

  “Sorry about the week,” Rudy said. “I really wanted to talk to you earlier.”

  “Me, too,” Masie said, and smiled. “But it’s okay.” She put her hand on his arm. Rudy looked at it, then looked at Masie. Feeling awkward and blushing, she pulled her hand away.

  Soon, they came to Thirsty Burst. Masie looked the place over, expecting it to be different than the last time she was here, because she felt different now.

  Rudy opened the door and motioned her inside. A blast of cool air touched her face. The ice cream case and frozen treats made the atmosphere more inviting. The hot day also made for a busy afternoon. Families, couples, teenagers opted for coolness, and the Thirsty Burst was in full swing.

  Rudy followed her inside. The oldies weren’t on today. “Zombie” by the Cranberries was coming from the jukebox.

  At the counter, Masie and Rudy ordered Cool Mistys, frozen, slushy drinks in tall plastic cups. Masie ordered a large raspberry. Rudy ordered lime. A young brunette took their order and made the drinks while they waited. Rudy pulled out his wallet before Masie objected, reaching for her purse.

  “For having a lame week, and making you wait in the heat,” he said.

  Masie smiled. “Thank you, Rudy.”

  They took their drinks and sat at a booth next to the window overlooking Main Street. Masie churned her Cool Misty with her straw and took a sip, a blast of delicious raspberry chilling her throat.

  “How is that?” he asked.

  “Good,” she said.

  Rudy looked at her, shifting uncomfortably, and played with his straw. “Sorry,” he said. “I keep going over how stupid this is. I mean, not like that…just…” He shook his head. “I tried to think of reasons why not to talk to you today, Masie. Thought…maybe last week was a sign, ya know? I saw Dad in the main office asking about me. I just happened to walk by at the time, and there he was. Of course, I wasn’t in class. I haven’t really been going to class. I think he was just as surprised to see me. I tried telling myself maybe I didn’t need to talk to anyone.”

  “I’m glad you decided against it,” Masie said.

  Rudy nodded, trying to smile. “Me, too. And thanks. I know this seems weird. It seems weird to me anyway.” Rudy still ignored his Cool Misty. He played with the straw and stared into its lime green depths.

  “So?” she asked.

  He looked at her and chuckled; it sounded forced. “You want me to just go right into it?” he asked.

  Masie smiled. “Whatever you think is best.”

  “I keep thinking how I wanted to talk to you,” Rudy said, looking down into his drink again. “Now that you’re here, I feel kinda stupid.”

  Masie shrugged. “First off...no feeling stupid. It’s not allowed. Second…no more apolgies, or I’ll pour that Cool Misty on top of your head. I’d pour mine on top of your head, but it’s too good to waste. Besides, you paid for it.”

  Rudy nodded and gave her a genuine smile. “Deal.” He took a deep breath and looked at her.

  “Just tell me,” she said.

  Rudy looked at her for a long time. “Okay,” he said, and closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, opened them, and began:

  “I don’t know what it is.” He shook his head. His tone was serious, as if he’d been reciting these words for over a week. Masie thought maybe he had. “I thought the way the week was turning out, maybe I shouldn’t talk to you. My mom…she’s like…I don’t know. Since Sadie…Dad’s been trying to get through to her, but…” He paused and thought for a moment. “It’s like, ever since Sadie died, things have just been falling apart. I can’t explain it. Like something isn’t right. Like Sadie didn’t just die. Something worse happened to him. I can’t get the idea out of my head. None of us, I mean Mom and Dad, are looking to get back together, to make it work, you know? Like a family? It’s as if we’re just all falling apart. And no one even cares.

  “And then the Pattersons,” he finished.

  Masie looked at him, nodding.

  “I mean, my little brother wasn’t just killed,” Rudy said, looking into her eyes. “Something devoured him. Something chewed him up and spat him out again. And now it’s like…I don’t know. Like everyone is…pretending it didn’t happen. I don’t know what to think. Maybe if it was someone else’s little brother…but…I’m the one who has to live with it. I’m the one who feels it every day. I wake up and think I’m gonna see Sadie. That it’s all just a dream. But he’s never there. And when I see he isn’t there, and I realize what happened—what Mom and Dad are going through—this thing goes off in my brain. Something…I can’t explain.”

  Rudy was silent for a moment. “Sorry,” he said, again, and tried to smile. “I just…get the feeling something really terrible is going on. I mean, of course something terrible is going on, but I don’t get it. Sadie. The Pattersons. Mom. It’s like everything good, everything bright, is twisting into some dark, diabolical thing. Just this feeling…horrible. Evil, even.” He looked at her. “I get this feeling I can’t shake. Dread. Incredible dread. Something that won’t go away. I wish to God someone would explain it to me. I just wish to God I knew.”

  Rudy paused. “That wasn’t why I wanted to talk to you…to explain it to me, or to answer any of my questions, Masie. I just…felt kind of alone. So, there you go. In one heap. I’ve dumped it all on you. I’ve been waiting to talk to you for a wee
k, and it took me about two minutes.”

  Masie grabbed his hand and squeezed. “I’m listening,” she said. “I’m still right here.”

  “I know,” he said. “Thank you, Masie.”

  Masie squeezed his hand again. “Hey,” she said. “It’s okay.”

  Rudy shook his head. He stared into his drink. “Everything isn’t okay, though,” he said. “That’s just it. I was talking to Dad a couple of nights after Sadie was killed. He saw the body. He said he couldn’t understand why the sheriff asked him to identify it. He could barely even recognize him. He couldn’t even recognize his own son! He kept saying to himself, ‘There’s the little racecar pajamas we got him for Christmas. There’s his little racecar pajamas.’”

  Masie was at a loss. She didn’t know what to think, let alone what to say.

  “And Mom,” Rudy said, shaking his head in disgust. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so sorry for her, or hated her so much at the same time. She’s a basket case.” Rudy churned the straw in his drink. “She talks to someone who isn’t even there. Like she’s willingly put herself in this place no one else can get to. It’s like Sadie was her entire world, and now that she doesn’t have him anymore, she’s completely lost. I never pictured my mom like that, you know? That weak. She’s completely gone. I hear her talking to Sadie or whoever it is. Like she doesn’t even realize me and Dad are even there. What are you supposed to do about something like that? How am I supposed to feel? Do I just ignore it? Let it run its course?” Rudy finally took a sip of his Cool Misty. “Sorry. I say that a lot, don’t I?” He shook his head. “I guess, I just…I don’t know…thought you’d understand for some reason. Crazy, huh? I don’t even know you that well, but when I saw you that day, I just thought for some reason that you’d understand. I can’t explain it. And now I feel even more like a jackass.” Rudy rubbed his hands over his face. He looked tired.

  Masie said the only thing she could think of:

  “I don’t know what I can do, Rudy, but I’m glad you wanted to talk to me. I think it’s important for you to be supportive with your mom and dad…not let the anger get the best of you. Try to make amends with your dad somehow. Baby steps, you know?”