by Daka Hermon
“Interesting,” Lyric says. “Sweet Dreams is out here dropping knowledge with their sugary goodness. Listen to this …” He studies his Popsicle wrapper. “Hide and Seek is the most popular kid’s party game.”
“Really?” Nia’s face scrunches into a frown. “That can’t be right.”
Lyric chews on his treat. His tongue and lips are blue. “Maybe we could play when—”
Suddenly, the backyard fence door swings open and smacks the small table with Zee’s gifts. Lyric drops his treat and dives for the presents but misses. Aww, man, I hope nothing’s broken.
“What up, losers?” a beastly voice asks. “Startin’ the party without us?”
I groan. Forget a dropped ice cream cone. This is the real bad luck.
Carla Jenkins and her twin brother, Quincy, stroll into the backyard. My mom used to say they weren’t bad kids, only misunderstood. Most days they’re really misunderstood, especially Carla.
“Hey, Dumbo,” she says to me.
I roll my eyes. I have big ears. It used to bother me, then Nia said that in some cultures big ears mean good luck and that you’re a good listener. I’m not so sure about the luck part. When my mom was having really bad days, I would wiggle my ears and she would laugh like it was the best thing ever. For a little while she was happy, but then—I slam the door closed on those thoughts. I can’t go there. It hurts too much.
Carla swats a sagging streamer as she walks around. “Is this it?”
She’s in our grade, but people always think she’s older. She’s taller than all the other students at our school. Sometimes she has trouble sitting in the desks.
“Some welcome home party. This sucks,” she says.
“It does now that you’re here,” Lyric mutters. He places the presents back on the table and moves so there is more space between him and Carla.
Her head snaps around, and she glares at Lyric. “Seen your daddy lately or you gotta wait until visiting hours?”
Lyric stiffens like concrete is flowing through his veins. Overall he’s pretty chill about everything, but he has one button you don’t push—the “don’t talk about my family” button. Carla just stomped on it.
Red blotches appear on his neck and spread to his pale face. He steps to Carla. “What’d you say?”
Carla sticks her chin out. “You heard me.”
This girl is acting all kinds of stupid. Lyric opens his mouth to say something, but Nia jumps between them and shoves Lyric back.
His right eye twitches and he never looks away from Carla, who smirks, flashing a crooked smile. Her mission to irritate is accomplished.
“Lyric, did you know that the most common types of bullying are verbal and social?” asks Nia. “She’s all talk. Don’t let her get to you.”
“Whatever. He wasn’t gon’ do nothing,” Carla says, popping a piece of candy into her big mouth.
“That wasn’t nice,” her younger brother, Quincy, says with a frown. He’s smaller than Carla, and not as annoying most days.
She stares at him for a moment, then turns away to look for more treats.
Why did Mrs. Murphy have to invite them? I reach for the puzzle piece in my pocket. I run my fingers along the edge of the frayed cardboard.
After my mom died, I had to see a counselor because I had trouble dealing with everything going on. I missed her, missed Zee, and I felt too much at once. I hated the sessions at first because they didn’t help, but after a few months I learned how to handle stuff. I haven’t had a real bad panic attack in a month. I’m not gonna let them ruin my new record.
The back door squeaks open. Mrs. Murphy exits carrying a tray of bottled water and soda.
“Carla. Quincy. I didn’t know you were here.” She sets the drinks on a table.
“Yes, ma’am. We came in the back way.” Carla smiles so sweet, I get a toothache.
Nia rolls her eyes. Lyric coughs and whisper-shouts, “Posers.” He’s lounging in a chair, with his long legs outstretched. He looks relaxed, but I know better. The anger is still simmering in his blue eyes.
“I’m glad you made it.” Mrs. Murphy peeks over her shoulder. “Zee is almost ready.”
I exchange a glance with Nia. What’s taking so long?
Lyric pushes to his feet and walks toward the house. “I can help—”
“No!” says Mrs. Murphy.
We jump.
She laughs nervously. “Everything is under control. I just want all of you to have fun.”
“How?” Carla asks, with her hands on her hips.
“Why don’t y’all play a game until I send Zee out?” Mrs. Murphy says, her eyes pleading with me. “I’m sure you can come up with something.”
I hold back a sigh. “Yeah, we can figure it out.”
“Thank you,” Mrs. Murphy says.
There is a loud crash from inside the house.
“I’ll be right back.” She hurries up the stairs and through the back door.
Nia turns to me. “Justin—”
“What are we gonna play?” Quincy asks as he dances away from a large flying bug. His skinny arms rotate faster than blades on a fan. He swats the bug down to the ground and stomps on it until it’s deader than dead. “Hate bugs,” he mumbles.
“I wanna play Dodgeball,” blurts out Carla.
Of course she does. The goal of the game is to hit someone. Hard. She was captain of our school dodgeball team until she got kicked off for being too violent.
“No ball,” Nia says.
“I knew that, stupid,” Carla mutters.
Nia’s eyes narrow. She crosses her arms. “Any fool can know. The point is to understand. Albert Einstein said that.”
Carla stares blankly. “What?”
“Exactly.” Nia holds up her closed fists and then opens her hand. She drops the mic. “Boom.”
I rub a hand over my mouth to hide my smile. She’s awesome.
“You’re still stupid,” Carla mumbles. “Remembering all that weird stuff doesn’t make you smarter or better than me.”
“What about Freeze Tag?” asks Quincy.
“No.” Lyric shoves a hand through his wild hair. “Red Light, Green Light?”
“How about Hide and Seek?” a whiny voice suggests.
We all spin around. Shae Davidson? Mrs. Murphy must have been desperate when she created this guest list. Sure, we all live in the same neighborhood, but we aren’t friends—she’s not welcome-home-party worthy for sure. Shae, Carla, and Quincy don’t belong. When you force things that don’t fit together, it ruins everything.
Shae’s lips twitch to form a smirk. “Hi, everybody.”
“Why am I being punished?” Lyric mumbles with a groan.
Shae’s family has money. They’re not rich or anything, but they have the nicest house and cars on our block, and their grass is always green and cut low. They act like they’re better than the rest of the neighbors.
“What are you doing here?” Carla asks, crossing her arms.
“I’m here for the party.” Shae brushes past Quincy as she enters the backyard.
“Hi, Shae.” He watches her, his eyes full of beating hearts. “You look sparkly. I like your … oomph.”
Carla elbows him in the side. “Don’t talk to her.”
Doubled over, Quincy mumbles, “Sorry.”
Shae toys with the long brown braid coiled on top of her head. “Hide and Seek is the best and we have enough people to play.”
Nia side-eyes me. Shae never plays with us. She doesn’t like to get dirty, sweaty, or smelly—her words. Sometimes she watches us, but always from a distance, usually where there’s shade.
“There’s not many places to hide,” says Lyric. “What if—”
“Sounds good to me,” Carla says, cracking her knuckles.
“Say what?” I jerk my head toward her so fast I almost get whiplash. Not more than a second ago she was shutting Shae down. “Why?”
Carla shrugs. “Not many choices since we don’t have a bal
l.”
“Justin?” Nia says, her expression pained.
Indigestion and nausea play tag in my stomach. “Fine, whatever.” Anything to get this over with.
“Who wants to be the Seeker?” Lyric asks.
No one volunteers.
“I’ll do it,” I say with a heavy sigh. Shouldn’t be too hard. It’s gonna be a foot race and I’m fast.
Shae stands up straighter. Her attention is focused on me. I’m a bug under a microscope. “Rules?”
“Duuuuh,” says Carla with an eye roll. “Same as always.”
“If I tag you, you’re out,” I say. “You can’t reveal the hiding place of another player. Can’t hide inside a building or car. Only hide in the set backyard area. You can’t block home base from any player. No roughing up anybody. Touch home base to be safe. And we have to finish the game. There has to be a clear winner.” I’ve witnessed too many arguments and fights over games that were suspended because of darkness or pee breaks.
We form a circle. I extend my arm. Lyric places his hand over mine, then Nia adds hers. Quincy and Carla are next. Finally, Shae’s hand slowly falls on top of the pile. A static shock zips up my arm.
My eyes dart around the group. They all have strange looks on their faces, like they felt something, too. Well, everyone except Shae, who stares at Zee’s house with an odd smile.
“The rules are set. If you break them, you’re out,” I say, mostly to Shae since she doesn’t seem to be paying attention. I don’t wanna hear any whining later about being confused.
I wait for everyone to accept the rules, then lower my hand from the pile and flex my tingling fingers. I nod toward the large oak tree in the center of the backyard. “That’ll be home base.”
“Got it.” Shae blinks rapidly and for a moment her eyes are the color of midnight, then they shift back to their normal green.
I step back. An eerie sensation weaves its way through me.
“What’s wrong?” Nia says.
“Uh, nothing. Just the sunlight … I’m seeing things.”
“Let’s do this, losers.” Carla shoulder checks me as she strolls by.
My mom used to say I shouldn’t hate “nouns”—a person, a place, or a thing. Carla is a person; does that mean I can’t hate her? Because most days I do.
I give everyone a moment to strategize as I walk over to the lonely oak tree standing between the sagging back porch and the snack tables. Its limbs droop from heat exhaustion. I slide my hat around so the brim is facing the back, close my eyes, and rest my head on folded arms. The rough bark makes small imprints in my skin. A bee buzzes around my head and the sound matches the odd static that fills my ears. I mentally shake myself and focus on the game.
“I went up the hill, the hill was muddy, stomped my toe and made it bloody, should I wash it?” I yell.
“Yes,” the players shout from different locations as they search for hiding places.
The hot wind pants through the trees, and dead leaves shower down upon me.
“I went up the hill, the hill was muddy, stomped my toe and made it bloody, should I wash it?”
“Yes!” I recognize Carla’s and Lyric’s voices. They’re still looking for a hiding spot.
“I went up the hill, the hill was muddy, stomped my toe and made it bloody, should I wash it?”
The backyard is eerily silent; it’s holding its breath. No responses. They’re ready.
I lift my head and slowly turn around. Brown brittle grass and wild weeds peekaboo out of the thirsty ground. Candy and ice cream wrappers chase each other like tumbleweeds.
The hunt begins.
I creep away from home base, my eyes skating across the backyard. Movement near the porch catches my attention. Carla. Somehow, she’s managed to squeeze herself into the small crawl space.
A twig snaps under my foot as I prowl closer to tag her. The tablecloth flutters around the snack table. Nia rolls from underneath and races toward home base. I bolt forward, and then skid to a halt. No chance.
She smacks the tree and performs a few cheerleader high kicks. “Safe. I’m first. So cool. I rule.”
With an eye roll, I walk toward Carla. Wedged in so tight, she’ll be an easy out for sure.
“Shae’s hiding behind the house!” she yells.
“Hey, no fair!” Nia cries.
“You can’t—” I stumble back as Shae slinks from behind the side of the house. She watches me with an unblinking stare. Her lips curl back over her teeth in a creepy smile. My skin crawls.
“What, uh, are you still playing?” I ask. “You have to touch the tree to be safe, remember?”
She doesn’t respond and makes no move toward home base.
Caw. Caw. The crows burst from the treetops, blasting leaves into the air. I jump.
“Shae, what—”
Suddenly, the shed door flies open, slamming against the wall. Quincy rushes out. His eyes widen when he spots me so close. He recovers and scrambles for the tree.
“Get him, Justin,” Nia cries.
“Don’t you touch my brother.” Carla scoots from underneath the porch on her stomach. She crawls to her feet covered in dirt and cobwebs. “I’ll hurt you.”
With a growl, Lyric pops up from his hiding spot. “You better not touch him,” he says to Carla.
My head whips back and forth. Shae. Carla. Quincy. Lyric. What is happening? It’s chaos.
“Both of you are cheaters!” Lyric races toward Quincy.
Nia blocks Quincy’s path, with her arms extended so he can’t get close to the tree.
Lyric grabs his shirt and tugs him back. There’s a struggle and they hit the ground, arms and legs tangled.
With a loud growl, Carla charges toward me. My eyes widen.
She lifts her fist and my short life flashes before my eyes. There’s no dramatic music to match the action; instead I hear the happy jingle of an ice cream truck in the distance. Suddenly, she skids to a stop. Her jaw drops.
I spin around. Zee stands on his back porch. His glasses are heavily taped at the corners and slightly tilted on his thin face.
“His arms,” Nia says shakily.
Lines of jagged, puffy scratches are on both of Zee’s arms. The scars are shiny. A beam of sunlight hits them, and they appear to glow. I gulp.
Lyric jumps up and inhales a loud breath. “What …”
He steps forward. We all fall back.
“Hi, Zee.” Shae waves. “Miss me?”
“No! You can’t be here! How are you here?” he shouts.
My eyes shift back and forth between Shae and Zee. What is going on?! Zee and Shae aren’t real friends, but he’d never be this rude to her. He’d never kick her out of his party.
“I came to get what’s mine. You wouldn’t play, but your friends did,” says Shae. “Now I get everything I wanted. Isn’t this fun?”
Zee shakes so hard, I swear I hear his bones rattle. His eyes dart around our group before zeroing in on me. “What did you do? I didn’t want this! You should have stayed away!”
My heart skips. “Zee …”
“Out of the darkness, no more light, now it comes to steal your life. On this day you’ve sealed your fate, by playing what it loves to hate. Once you’re tagged, then you’ll know. The mark appears, it’s your time to go,” Zee chants. “Now you’re in the final count. It’s closer to the set amount.”
“Whoa,” Lyric says.
Quincy shuffles back a few steps. “What’s wrong with him?”
“He ain’t right,” says Carla. “He came back wrong.”
Zee’s dazed eyes bob for apples. Up, down. Up, down. Now the locks on his bedroom door make sense.
Shae giggles, only it comes out like a growl. “This is so much fun.”
“Hey!” I say. “Stop messin’ with him. He’s—”
“I won’t let you do this! Leave us alone!” He leaps off the porch and dashes toward us.
Someone screams. We scatter like cockroaches in the light.
<
br /> Zee staggers forward. “You can’t let it win. You have to stop it!”
“I’m outta here!” Carla races past Nia, spinning her around and into a bush.
“Wait for me,” Quincy cries as he trips over his feet to catch up with his sister. They escape through the fence door.
Wide-eyed, Lyric backpedals as Zee dashes in his direction. “Whoa! Hold up. What’s going on?” Arms flailing, Lyric crashes into a table, sending the snacks flying across the backyard.
Shae is a pink blur. I used to run track, but I’ve never seen anyone move like that. She disappears around the side of the house.
I’m too stunned to move and that costs me. Zee swerves in my direction and tackles me. My head hits the ground with such force, black dots swim across my eyes and my hat sails across the lawn. I groan as he flips me over like a pancake. His body is a mini iceberg on my chest. I’m chilled to the bone.
“Hi, Justin,” he whispers. The words are so eerily soft the breeze carries them away as soon as they leave his chapped lips.
I stare into his haunted eyes. “Hi … hi, Zee.”
His mouth twists upward in the saddest smile I’ve ever seen. He leans closer and the smell of mothballs and baby powder tickle my nose.
“Because of me, it came.”
“It? What are you talking about?” I strain away from him, pressing myself into the bumpy ground. Jagged rocks and sharp twigs dig into my back.
His head jerks up and his wild eyes travel around the backyard. His body is still, tense. “Watching,” he whispers.
I get goose bumps.
Nia crawls closer. “Zee? What—”
He snaps out of his trance. “From the dark side it came to see, I failed the test it gave to me. It never loses; the rules aren’t fair. And now you have to live the scare.” His bony fingers handcuff my wrists. “One day soon you’ll leave from here and fight against all you fear.”
His words tornado through me. I feel a panic attack clawing at my skull. I struggle to get free, but he won’t budge. “Get off me! Move.”
