Laura Monster Crusher

by Wesley King

  When we climbed out of the car their dog, a beautiful golden retriever named Stella, ran out to meet us. I had always wanted a dog, but my mom was allergic to them. The only pet we’d ever had was Muffin, and after she died, I didn’t really want another one. It was too sad saying goodbye. I’d had enough of that with my grandparents.

  Aunt Sandra met us at the door, and after a flurry of joyous hugs, she led us right to the dinner table. She was a very pretty woman who seemed a bit tired herself. Her long russet hair was frayed and her normally cheerful blue eyes looked worn and cloudy. I could tell that the factory closing down was having a big impact on both of them.

  “How are you?” she asked, heading to the kitchen to get dinner.

  Uncle Laine walked in, trailed by my cousins, Emma and Peter. They were only five and nine years old, and they were really cute with their jet-black hair and big blue eyes. I had seen Emma running around at school earlier but hadn’t gotten the chance to say hi. I smiled at them and turned to the kitchen.

  “Pretty good,” I said. “Getting used to everything, I guess.”

  Aunt Sandra smiled as she walked back in with a ham. “It always takes some time. Can you help me with the vegetables, dear?” she asked my uncle.

  There was noticeable tension in her voice.

  He gave me a lopsided grin and went to help her, and I turned to my cousins.

  “Hey, guys,” I said. “How’s school going?”

  “Good,” Emma said immediately. “I like my new teacher. Peter doesn’t. He said his teacher is mean.”

  Peter nodded. “She is.”

  “It happens,” I said. “Everything else okay?”

  Peter shrugged. “I guess. Mom and Dad have been fighting—”

  “Okay then,” Uncle Laine said, coming in with two big plates of steaming vegetables. “That’s not happy dinner talk.” He put the plates down. “Everyone dig in! I’m starving. Got to work a night shift tonight.”

  “Really?” my mom asked. “I didn’t know you had to do nights.”

  “Oh yeah,” he said. “Have been for awhile now. Tom, what do you want?”

  “A bit of everything,” Tom replied.

  “That’s my boy,” Laine said, dumping some food on his plate.

  Aunt Sandra gingerly sat down beside Laine at the table, still looking slightly agitated. I wondered what was wrong as I filled my plate up and dug into the ham.

  “It’s delicious,” I said.

  “Thanks, sweetie,” she replied, pouring some red wine. A little rivulet spilled over the lip of the glass, she poured so much. “How’s the house coming along, Pat?”

  “It’s coming,” my dad said, already digging into the roasted potatoes. “Gonna take a lot of work, but it’ll be worth it. Laine was right: it has a lot of potential.”

  “And a lot of spiders,” I added distastefully.

  Laine snorted. “I knew you’d like it. Anything else of interest in there?”

  “Well, I’ve already heard mysterious rattling, found a warning carved into the wall, seen yellow eyes watching me from the woods—”

  “She has a vivid imagination,” my mother cut in, glaring at me.

  When I’d shown her the warning, she told me that clearly the person living in my room before me had been equally “creative,” as she called it. I had just scowled and left it alone—clearly my mother was going to be no help. She wasn’t one for conspiracies.

  “Rattling?” Laine asked, glancing at me. “What bedroom are you in? I took a walk through there a few months ago—didn’t mess with the spiders, of course.”

  “The one with the walk-in,” I replied. “Facing the backyard.”

  I saw him glance at Tom, as if surprised, and then back at me. “You didn’t want the bigger one at the back of the house? I figured Tom would take the one with the closet.”

  I shrugged. “Mom said I should have the walk-in. Not that I use it.”

  “Yeah, I guess it makes sense,” he said slowly. “What’s the rattling coming from?”

  “I don’t know yet. Probably a ghost trying to escape my closet.”

  Laine was silent for a moment, and then he just laughed and shook his head. “Nothing would surprise me in this town.”

  “What do you mean?” Tom asked.

  “The old guys tell stories,” Laine said casually. “Things they’ve seen in the woods…stuff like that.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Thanks for encouraging us to move here.”

  Laine waved a hand. “Just old guys seeing things. You want more, honey?”

  Emma nodded and he scooped some potatoes on her plate and gently kissed her forehead. He might have looked like a bear, but I’ve never seen a more affectionate parent than my uncle Laine. I knew he’d do anything for his kids, which explained why potentially losing his job was having such a big impact on him.

  The rest of the dinner was normal enough, and when we all stood up at the end, I felt my belt straining. Thanking Aunt Sandra profusely, we all went to get our coats on. I stopped at the bathroom on the way, which was just beside the kitchen. On the way out, I heard a quiet conversation and stopped at the door, listening.

  “I just don’t know why you have to work again tonight,” Aunt Sandra was saying.

  “I told you,” Laine replied. “We need the money.”

  “Well, why am I not seeing it?” she asked, her voice rising just a little.

  “It’s a bonus at the end. I explained all this. It adds to the severance payment.”

  “I just wish you’d stick around a little more. The kids miss you. And look at this place. I’m embarrassed to have your family over.”

  “It looks fine! They had fun—”

  Feeling rude, I loudly opened the door and hurried to the front. The conversation stopped immediately. Throwing on my jacket, I joined Tom and my parents just as my uncle and aunt came to say goodbye. Peter and Emma were already watching TV.

  My uncle gave me a big hug. “Good luck with the haunted house.”

  “Thanks,” I muttered, hugging my aunt. “See you guys soon.”

  We went out to the car and waved to them as we drove down the road.

  “That was awkward,” Tom said.

  “Yeah,” my mom agreed quietly. “I’m a little worried about them.”

  “They’ll be fine,” Stache said. “Laine will figure out something.”

  “I hope so,” I murmured, staring out the window.

  —

  Later that night I sat in my room at my brand-new desk and looked at a picture of Liam R. Kelp online. That sounds bad. I just glanced at it, really. His profile picture was him standing with his arm around his mom. Literally asking for someone to make fun of him. It was official.

  I really did love him.

  I’d exchanged cellphone numbers with Mia and Shal, but I didn’t actually expect them to call me. As a result I almost fell off my chair when my phone rang at 10:15, and I quickly closed Liam’s page, as if whoever was calling could see what I was doing.

  “Hello?” I said tentatively.

  “Hey, Laura,” Shal said. “What’s up?”

  “Uhh…” I replied.

  Anything but staring at Liam. Anything but staring at Liam.

  “Cleaning my room?”

  “Are you asking me?” Shal said. “Never mind. Mia’s on the line.”

  “Hi, Laura,” Mia said brightly. She actually kind of sounded like a mouse too.

  “Hi,” I said. “What are you guys doing?”

  “Just talking,” Shal replied. “Were you thinking about Liam when we called?”

  “No,” I said way too quickly.

  They both giggled.

  “She’s in love,” Shal said. “You can tell.”

  “I am not in love,” I replied sternly.

  Shal snorted. “Don’t be so embarrassed. Mia can’t even look at a boy without blushing.”

  “It’s true,” Mia said sadly. “And Shal likes Carl.”

  “Mia!” Shal sai
d. “That was classified.”

  “Isn’t Carl the guy who always talks to Allison Black?” I asked.

  “Maybe,” Shal murmured. “Your crush doesn’t have to be realistic.”

  I clicked on Liam’s page again and smiled. “I guess not.”

  “Are you looking at Liam’s profile?” Shal asked.

  “No,” I said quickly, closing it again. I knew that was going to happen. “Besides, you could get Carl. You’re just as cute as Allison and three hundred times nicer.”

  “Don’t lie to me,” Shal said. She paused. “You really think—”

  Then I heard it. Rattling. I slowly turned to my closet, tuning out Shal as she talked about a possible love affair with Carl. The rattling grew louder.

  “Sorry, guys, my mom needs me,” I said distractedly. “I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

  I didn’t even wait for them to respond. This time the lights were on, and I wasn’t curled up in bed. There was no excuse. I wanted to see what was making the noise.

  I crept toward the closet door and gently pulled it open. The rattling grew even louder. I nervously scanned the closet and froze. One of the white wooden panels was shaking back and forth. It was the one with the message carved on it.

  I crouched down and slowly ran my fingers along the edge, and I was halfway down the side when I felt a sudden catch. A little square on the side of the panel popped inward if you pressed on it. Well, I’d gone this far. I pressed the square all the way in, hearing a click, and then pulled the panel open. My eyes widened.

  “I’m really starting to dislike this house,” I whispered.

  Chapter Six

  I was looking into a tiny wooden room, tall and narrow and unmarked except for what looked like a crude lever on the opposite wall. The walls were made of a light wood, and I realized that the room must have been built inside of that overlarge, fake chimney that dominated the living room downstairs. I just crouched there for a moment, trying to wrap my head around what I was seeing. There was a room in my closet.

  I knew I should probably go wake my parents, but I was a bit hesitant. For one, I’d seen enough movies to suspect that this door would somehow disappear by the time I got back here, and my mom would just pat my shoulder and tell me how the stress of moving was causing me to hallucinate again. I was really getting sick of those comforting pats. Besides, a secret room in my closet might come in handy if I ever managed to get popular or have a social life. I figured I might as well investigate.

  I crawled through the panel and stood up in the small room, looking around curiously. Maybe it was a hideout built during the war or something. Maybe there used to be a witch living in this house who had to hide whenever the peasants came around. The possibilities were endless. I ran my hands along the three wooden walls, which were worn and smoothed from wear. Inevitably my eyes fell on the lever. It was nothing more than a small plank of wood attached to a rusty old cog, but what it did, I had no idea. Perhaps there was another secret room behind this one?

  I reached out for it, the much smarter side of my brain telling me that it probably wasn’t a great idea to pull a lever without knowing what it did.

  But I don’t listen to the smarter side of my brain nearly as much as I should…probably because it’s usually telling me to eat some celery and go for a jog. My hands found the old lever, and with a final guilty look back into my closet, I pushed down on it.

  Yep, I’m an idiot.

  The room suddenly plummeted downward, and I realized with a feeling of complete and utter stupidity that it wasn’t a room: it was an elevator. And it moved fast. My socked feet started floating off the floor as the elevator dropped like a stone. I frantically tried to grab onto something. My grasping hands found the lever, and I clutched it desperately and screamed as the elevator just kept falling. I tried to pull the lever up but it wouldn’t budge. I was trapped.

  My panicked brain started to wonder if the elevator was even attached to anything, or if I was literally just plummeting down a hole. What if it went on forever? What if I smashed into a lake of lava? My body just kept rising higher and higher off the floor, and I gripped the lever, my knuckles turning white, and screamed until my voice was hoarse. I pictured Stache and my mom when they found the elevator shaft in my closet, when they realized what had happened, when they told Tom. My eyes started to water and then tears streamed freely from my face, heading up instead of down and soaking into my hair. It was all over. I was going to die. I remembered the warning carved into the panel: it’s not too late. I really wish they’d been a little more specific.

  And then, suddenly, I saw light. White light.

  I assumed I must have died, since any light under the earth would obviously be the fiery red of lava. There was no other explanation: I must have died. Except why was I still falling?

  The light grew brighter and suddenly the shaft slipped away at the front of the elevator. The elevator only had three walls—the front was completely open. I wasn’t staring at endless rock anymore. I was staring at…a landscape. For a second, I forgot I was even falling. I just looked out in bewilderment as a massive green expanse opened up in front of me, stretching for miles in all directions and seemingly meeting distant, towering rocky walls on all sides. It didn’t make any sense: I saw what looked like homes and roads and even a brilliant blue lake shimmering in the light. But how was there light? I peered up, leaning out just a little to get a better view, and saw something shining far above, nestled against the ceiling of stone that stretched farther than should have been possible. None of it made any sense.

  And then I looked down and saw that the beautiful green landscape was rushing toward me at breakneck speed. I was going to smash into the ground.

  I screamed again, even more desperately than before, clawing at the wooden ceiling of the elevator to see if there was any way out. My body was still weightless, powerless, and the ground rushed ever closer. I was going to smash into it.

  It happened slowly, so that I didn’t even really notice it at first. I started feeling heavier, and my kicking socked feet touched the ground, my grip on the lever loosening. The ground started to approach a bit more slowly, and I realized with a tinge of hope that the elevator might not be broken after all. In fact, I was soon gliding along at a comfortable clip, and when it finally touched down, it was just a gentle bump in the tall grass. I leaned against the elevator wall, unable to move. My entire body was shaking violently.

  I found myself looking at a winding dirt pathway running out from the elevator, cutting across an emerald meadow of tall grass and tiny flitting butterflies. Squat farmhouses lined the pathway like patches of flowers, and in the distance a huge stone castle, white as ivory, perched on a rocky outcropping, bordering a quaint town and that crystal clear lake that glinted in the blazing light of whatever was up on the ceiling. I even think I saw a bird wheeling around overhead, though it looked abnormally large and blue.

  But most notable of all was the little old man sitting in a rocking chair beside the elevator, smiling at me through a beard like a snow-covered thicket, tiny yellow stumps of teeth just visible through the brambles.

  “So it was you,” he said thoughtfully. “Eldon won’t be happy.”

  I stared at him for a moment before finally finding my voice. “What?”

  His eyes were grey and stormy, not matching his frail appearance or smile. “You’re the one,” he said, looking me up and down. “Eldon said it had to be wrong. That the house had made a mistake and would fix it. But you’re here, and that means it’s you.” He chuckled. “The other ones are going to have a field day. And at such a time, too.”

  I gingerly walked out of the elevator, testing the spongy ground with my toe. Yep, it was real. I turned around and looked up, feeling my stomach drop to my toes when I saw just how far I had plummeted down in that elevator. The dark opening in the cavern ceiling was just a pinprick.

  “Was it fun?” the old man asked, following my gaze. “I’ve never been
.”

  I turned and looked at him again. “Who are you?”

  “Porton,” he said, extending a frail, wrinkled hand. I shook it out of habit, and I felt him test my grip. He was much stronger than he looked. “I’m a Watcher…one of fifty. We keep an eye on the doorways. Of course, you’re one of fifty too.” He laughed again. “But they weren’t expecting you, my dear. I can tell you that. On that note, you should get along. Head for Arnwell Castle. Well, it’s a training ground these days, really, I suppose. If you want to call it that.”

  “A training ground for what?” I asked nervously, my eyes on the great stone castle in the distance. How was any of this possible? How was I under the ground?

  He smiled. “You’ll see.”

  I looked back at the elevator, thinking maybe it was time to get out of here. Porton obviously guessed my thoughts, because he smiled and folded his frail hands in his lap.

  “You can go back, of course. But I don’t recommend it. Have you seen the yellow eyes yet?”

  I frowned. “Yes.”

  The smile disappeared from his face. “Then go to Arnwell. Your time has come.”

  I held his gaze for a moment, locked on those stormy eyes. There was something in his soft voice that told me he was the kind of man you wanted to listen to. That he meant what he said. I shifted, still looking out over the strange landscape in front of me. Rocks and boulders and stalagmites rose from the grass like quiet sentinels, watching me.

  “Will you at least tell me where I am?”

  “Of course. You’re in Derwin, one of the last five realms in the Under Earth. The smallest of the five, but perhaps the most important.”

  He smiled again when he saw the look of incredulity on my face.

  “I suppose you never thought there was life beneath your feet?”

  “But…how can that…I don’t get it.”

  Porton nodded. “Understandable. Be content for the moment to know that there have always been two worlds, and only one has ever really known about the other.” He gestured to the gleaming white castle. “Now go. Eldon is waiting.”