by Ryan Conway
As interested as Spencer was to learn the meaning of the inscription, there was a more important task to carry out: He needed to visit the Chinese restaurant in New York, assuming it was still in business, and follow his father's instructions. In the meantime, it would be wiser to conceal his father's letter and any knowledge of his trip from everyone. Somehow, he felt he had already divulged too much information just by showing off the amulet.
From that point on, Spencer decided, he would wear the medallion under his shirt.
"Say, Spencer," Pastor Meadows addressed him. "Seen Drake around, by any chance?"
Spencer was caught off-guard by the question. All eyes were on him, awaiting an answer, a fact that baffled him even more. Apparently, Drake had gone upstairs to use the bathroom without even telling anyone. Of course, that explained why he had seemed lost; he hadn't even asked anyone where the upstairs bathroom was. But it was still odd manners in someone else's home.
"Well, actually…" Spencer started to answer.
"Actually, I'm right here." Drake sounded off from the other side of the room. Everyone jumped in shock, surprised that they hadn't even noticed his presence.
"Whew. Where were you, Drake?" Pastor Meadows asked.
"Well, I had to use the bathroom too, and it was, um, an emergency." Drake replied. "Not life-threatening, of course."
Laughter broke the silence for the first time since the party had disbanded as Spencer and Tom looked at each other. Spencer chuckled a little, but Tom wasn't amused; he began to scrutinize Drake closely. Spencer looked closer as well. Drake was wearing an ear-to-ear grin showcasing his big white teeth, like a hungry reptile (now, why did he think that?), while the adults laughed. As Drake walked over to join everyone on the couch, Tripper and Cookie came to attention, just as they had during his piano recital.
Spencer and Tom resumed their walk outside to the porch to chat for a while, with Cookie and Tripper shaking their bodies and following them out the door. They sat outside for over an hour, talking about their plans for the summer, since they were both heading off to the same college. They even discussed times they would get together during holidays and summer vacations in the future. Tom suggested driving up to New York together if Spencer wanted to visit the campus that summer, which would provide the perfect opportunity to visit Chinatown… but if he were to take his father's message seriously, he wasn't supposed to let anyone in on it, not even friends and family, and in Spencer's opinion Tom was both. He tried to think of a way to invite Tom to New York and slip away on his own without Tom while they were there, but that seemed like too much of a jerk move. He'd have to tell him at least a little.
"Tom, I have something I need to take care of in New York," Spencer admitted finally, "and I'm not supposed to have anyone with me at the time."
"Oh, that's fine." Tom said. "I can go sightseeing while you do your thing, and we can meet up afterward or something… It's New York, man. Empire State Building 9/11 Memorial, the Statue of Liberty. I want to go up into the torch."
Spencer was relieved by Tom's response. He didn't want to tell Tom he couldn't come to New York, and he figured it would be a boring road trip if his best friend couldn't come with him.
"You're not in the Mafia or something, are ya?" Tom asked jokingly.
"If I told you, I'd have to kill you," replied Spencer.
"Oh yeah, that's right," Thomas continued. "In your case, it would be the Yakuza." Thomas began laughing in amusement at his own joke.
"You never know," Spencer shrugged.
"How about this," Thomas insisted. "We can either make a trip up to New York City right after we check into our dorm rooms in Claremont, or if you have to get there sooner, we can take a weekend trip to Chinatown only." Tom waited patiently for Spencer to make a decision, knowing he'd probably just ponder the choice without making one any time soon. "I'll tell you what." Tom said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his two red crystal dice. "Two through six, we take a day trip in two days and go straight to New York City. But seven through twelve, we wait about a month, until we move into the dorms, and visit the city then."
"Yeah, let's roll for it," Spencer agreed, knowing he would just hesitate with the decision otherwise. Tom held his closed hand out and shook it to and fro as if he were playing a board game. He opened his hand and released the dice, bouncing them across the surface of a little coffee table. They rolled halfway down the table before finally coming to a halt. One die displayed three dots, and the other showed a four.
"Aha, seven." Thomas said. "We'll go to the city when we move into the dorms."
Spencer thought about it for a moment. "All right," he concurred. "That gives us some time before we have to make the trip."
"Well, I've gotta get going, Spence." Thomas got to his feet. "It's pretty late, and I've got a few errands to run tomorrow. I gotta be up pretty early."
After agreeing to meet the next afternoon, Tom headed out. After he took off, Spencer went back inside, followed by the oddly quiet dogs. "Did Tom go home?" Uncle George asked as he eased the screen door shut.
"Yes sir. He needs to be up early tomorrow."
"Spencer, where's Tom going to school?" asked Pastor Meadows.
"Actually, he's going to the same university as I am," Spencer replied. "He's already got scholarships. He was our salutatorian."
"Interesting. So, what makes you want to go up to New York for school?"
People had been asking him that for months now, so he didn't think of the pastor as being nosy; it was basic human curiosity to ask about a graduate's plans. Something about a young person spreading his or her wings for the first time really struck a chord in people. Noticing the smiles on his godparents' faces, he said "Well, I remember that when I lived with my parents in Maryland, I met some people who'd gone to Isaac Francis Claremont University, and many of them were doctors. And they were doing pretty well for themselves, actually. That was even before I thought about becoming a doctor or a researcher. I guess they just left an impression on me."
"Have you kept in touch with any of them?" Pastor Meadows inquired, his eyes bright.
"No sir, they were friends of my parents. And well, I had no reason to keep in touch with them. I guess in retrospect they would have been good references for me if I knew them today. But either way, I'm going to IFCU. And who knows—maybe I'll run into them again someday."
The atmosphere seemed to grow somber as everyone fell silent. Uncle George and Aunt Sandra were looking at the floor, lost in thought, no doubt thinking about Spencer's parents and how life might have been different for him if they were still alive; they seemed to do that a lot lately. Or at least, that's what Spencer assumed they were doing. A moment later, Michael looked at the clock and said, "I'd better get my overnight bag out of the car," and stood up to walk out the door. Of course, as he made his way down the hallway, Cookie and Tripper jumped up and formed their usual entourage to follow him out the front door. Meanwhile, Pastor Meadows glanced at his watch and mentioned it was probably time to go to bed. Everyone was yawning by then anyway.
After retreating upstairs, Spencer found himself too alert to sleep. Instead, he read and reread his father's letter by lamplight, staring awestruck at his father's last words to him. He became a little misty-eyed, but not to the same extent as before. Holding the letter in one hand, he ran his fingers over the inked writing with the other, reminiscing about his father. A bittersweet joy welled up in his chest, knowing his father was still connecting with him even in death.
Spencer rolled over on his side and slid the letter back into the envelope, then stuck the envelope back into the front pocket of his jeans, which were lying on the floor beside his bed. Usually Spencer put everything away, and his pants would normally be folded up and placed in his laundry hamper; but he was feeling a little more complacent and distracted than normal on this particular evening, and planned on wearing his jeans again the next day anyway. He pulled his T-shirt off, because the air was too humi
d in the summer night, but suddenly remembered the amulet when he felt the metal against his bare chest. He immediately removed the necklace and marveled at the medallion one last time, rotating it in the lamplight and studying the grooved design.
After a few minutes, Spencer reached over to place the amulet on the nightstand and turn off the light. He laid in bed awake for quite a while before his eyelids grew heavy and he drifted off to sleep.
Chapter Three
Party Crasher
S pencer, wake up!" yelled a deep, startling voice, in a tone of dire urgency. The boy's eyes popped open in fright, and he leapt to his feet before reaching over to flick on the lamp. He was astonished to find Drake standing beside his nightstand, the amulet in one hand, staring at Spencer with a stupidly surprised look on his face.
Spencer was speechless—but Drake's surprise quickly faded into anger. His eyes bulged and glazed over, taking on a yellow tint, while his face and arms elongated and darkened until his skin was the color and texture of an alligator's hide. He started pacing towards Spencer, clenching and unclenching hands whose nails seemed to be growing into black claws, while his perfectly combed blond hair faded into a straggly orange mane. His ears stretched into points—and so did his pearly white teeth.
Spencer tried to yell, but was too petrified, and his voice was caught in his throat. He couldn't even manage a squeak.
But before Drake even made it half a step, he suddenly flew sideways against the wall, as if he'd been picked up and thrown by some invisible force. The impact left a human-sized dent in the sheetrock. The amulet fell from his grasp and bounced on the carpet; Spencer quickly dove on it, snatching it up before he rolled back to his feet, running for the door. He looked back and saw a transparent shadow figure fighting Drake off and holding him back, enabling Spencer to flee with the medallion. Meanwhile, Spencer's room was being destroyed: bookshelves, desk, and other belongings were being knocked over and smashed into kindling as the crocodilian Drake struggled with the man who wasn't there. Papers and books were strewn across the room as Spencer ran out the door and down the hallway. He looked back just in time to see Drake break free from the shadow; by then, Spencer was already stumbling down the stairs in the dark, but Drake was in hot pursuit by the time Spencer thumped down in the living room. As the dogs leapt to their feet and followed Spencer into the kitchen, the monster appeared at the opposite side, having taken a different route through the house.
"Give me the amulet. Now!" Drake demanded in a deep, rumbling voice.
"What the heck are you?" Spencer asked fearfully. "What's going on?"
"If you give me the amulet, I'll let you live!" Drake shouted.
Spencer was so frightened he was actually contemplating throwing it on the kitchen table and fleeing in the other direction. But while he was shaking in fear and considering his next move, the shadow figure sprang out from behind Spencer, bouncing off the table and into Drake, shoving him in the other direction. The figure wasn't really transparent, Spencer realized; he just faded into the background, like a chameleon. Drake shrieked, Spencer forgotten for the moment; for his part, Spencer just watched the fight, what he could see of it, because he couldn't believe what was taking place before his eyes. He was trembling with so much fear that he never even realized he'd dropped the amulet.
Meanwhile, Tripper and Cookie sat motionless and silent, watching the fight without even a whimper.
The chameleon and Drake wrestled around on the floor in the living room, knocking into furniture and making a huge ruckus, especially when they started boxing each other against the piano, both landing crushing blows. Oddly, blue and orange sparks lit up the room with almost every kick, punch, and slash from Drake's claws; was he hitting some sort of shield, or shorting out the technology that kept the chameleon all but invisible?
A second there-but-not-there figure joined the fight seemingly out of nowhere, to Drake's disadvantage, and the hand-to-hand combat escalated. During the melee, Drake's marble necklace was torn off and went bouncing across the floor. Tripper and Cookie immediately lost the glazed look in their eyes, and began growling and barking like vicious wolves at the intruders, showing a ferocious side that Spencer had never seen in them before. Tripper lunged forward at Drake, chasing him into the hallway and out the front door. Cookie followed behind, growling and yipping, but was unable to keep up.
After Spencer ran out the front door onto the porch to watch Tripper chasing Drake from afar, he observed maybe ten or eleven other chameleon figures receding off the property and into the surrounding woods. There may have been more, but they were difficult to spot. By then, Spencer was trembling from the strange and frightening ordeal that he had just experienced. He went back in the house, closing and locking the door, and darted off to wake his family. He burst into the living room only to find Uncle George, Aunt Sandra, and his cousin Michael staring at him in absolute shock. They were surrounded by a house in shambles, with couches, chairs, and lamps knocked over and cloth shredded. Pictures on the wall were hanging sideways if they weren't lying on the floor. There were scrapes and holes in all the walls, and books and trinkets all over the floor. Oddly enough, nothing was actually broken, though the piano was damaged slightly. No surprise there; that dent was probably shaped like the back of Drake's head. Spencer didn't even know how to begin explaining, and was actually starting to feel a little dizzy and faint.
"What the heck just happened in here?" Uncle George demanded. "Who did this?"
"You wouldn't even believe me," Spencer said quietly.
"Where were the dogs?" Aunt Sandra asked. "Where are they now?"
"They just chased the person who did this out the door." Spencer explained. "It was Drake."
"What?" Uncle George snapped. "You're saying Drake did this? The missionary? I can't believe that."
"I know it sounds crazy," Spencer replied, putting his hand to his head. A headache was coming on. "But I woke up and found Drake in my room trying to take my medallion… except he wasn't Drake, he was… something else. Then he came after me, and then a bunch of weird stuff that I can't even begin to explain happened—"
"Well, Spencer, you're going to have to explain something to us!" Uncle George exclaimed. "Our house is wrecked, Drake is gone, and the dogs are missing. What happened?"
All Spencer could do was to stare at his family with wide eyes, like a rabbit caught in the headlights of an oncoming car.
"Spencer." Aunt Sandra pointed. "Come sit in the kitchen." She and Spencer walked into the kitchen and sat down at the table, which was now scarred by Drake's claws. Aunt Sandra stared at them. "Those look like claw marks," she said faintly. "Did Tripper…?"
"Too big to be Tripper's," her nephew said quietly. "Drake did this." He laid his hand over the parallel claw marks to show that they'd been made by something larger than a man's hand, not a Labrador Retriever's comparatively narrow paws.
Michael started reorganizing the living room and setting the furniture back up, while Uncle George headed back upstairs to check on Pastor Meadows and see if Drake was really missing. Spencer, meanwhile, stared off into nothingness, still trying to make sense of everything he had just witnessed. Aunt Sandra opened up the cupboard and pulled out a canister of coffee, preparing to start brewing a fresh pot in the coffee machine. It looked like it was going to be a long night.
When Uncle George got to Pastor Meadows' room, he cracked the door a little and tried calling to him a few times in a whisper. Then he got louder, but still got no reaction. After a long moment, he flicked the bedroom light on and saw Pastor Meadows lying in bed, fast asleep; but Drake's bed was empty, with the covers and sheets all messed up. On the nightstand was a half-full glass of water, which Uncle George knew Pastor Meadows always took with a few prescription pills every evening. On the nightstand closer to Drake's bed, he saw a tiny blue glass bottle with no label. Uncle George then started shaking Pastor Meadows awake. Meadows was in such a deep sleep that it took him a full five minutes to wake up;
George had begun to worry that the old man was in a coma when Meadows finally opened his eyes, squinting against the light.
"Huh? Wha, wh-what's going on, George?" Meadows inquired.
"Bill, you have to get up—we got ourselves an emergency situation here. Something's happened with Drake, and now he's missing."
"How do you mean?" Pastor Meadows asked, looking a little more alert.
"Come on." Uncle George said. "We gotta figure out what's going on and what we're gonna do."
***
Spencer was still sitting at the kitchen table with his aunt, who was gently prying the events of the night out of him—or trying to, anyway. He wasn't saying much that made sense to her. Sighing, she slid a cup of coffee over to Spencer and sat down opposite him with her own mug. "Spencer, please help us understand what happened here," she said firmly. "We're not mad at you, but the house is destroyed and you're saying that Drake is responsible for it. Please, we need to know."
Spencer shook his head hard and blinked rapidly several times. "Someone yelled at me to wake up, so I jumped out of bed and turned on the light. Drake was standing next to my bed, holding my amulet. You know, Dad's medallion?" Aunt Sandra nodded. "Then he came at me—and I swear I'm not making this up, but his face changed… to-to something not human. I know I sound crazy, but it really did. And then he started fighting this weird shadow…thing all over the house, and that's where all the damage in my room and the living room came from. Then they started fighting in the kitchen before Tripper chased him out the door. I ran outside, watching all this, and then ran back inside to lock the door." Spencer wrapped his arms around himself. "Aunt Sandra, I'm really scared."
She just stared at Spencer, expressionless, evidently trying to process what she'd just heard. He looked at her, waiting for some response; any response was better than a blank stare, but that was all she was showing. "Aunt Sandra, are you okay?" "Yeah," she murmured faintly, a faraway look on her face. "I'm fine. I'm glad I'm sitting down, though." She shook her head and came back from her daze. "Well, hon, we're gonna have to go find the dogs. Could you go upstairs and get your uncle, please?"
