“Pens and pencils down,” Mr. Peters called in his deep voice that could never really be described as loud.
Only a small majority did what they were told. The rest started writing with a fury, attempting to put some finishing touch on an answer that no doubt would reveal to Mr. Peters their true genius. Samantha went with the former, leaving her sketch of the back view of the boy sitting in front of her incomplete. David attempted the latter but his paper was mercilessly whisked away, shortening the word because to ‘beca.’ He didn’t feel that bad about it. He wasn’t sure what else he would have added to his answer anyway.
Until one o’clock things went pretty much as they usually did. After the quiz there were questions to be done from text books. The books were old and felt mouldy. Samantha laid her colourfully painted finger on one only to push it away, shrieking her distaste. Her mouth was crumpled into an awkward shape that suggested she smelled something bad, and before he had realized it David was putting his book in the centre of the table and agreeing to do all the flipping back and forth between pages. Of course, no good deed ever went unpunished.
“What are you doing?” he whispered to Samantha, in the library silent classroom.
“I’m turning the page, what does it look like?” She had one of her coloured nails under the page and was about to flip it over.
“I thought you wanted nothing to do with the book.”
“I don’t,” she insisted, sounding irritated. “Would you like to turn the page for me?”
David, too, was beginning to loose his temper. “What I would like,” he hissed between clenched teeth, “is to finish reading this side before I go onto the other.”
Samantha’s face seemed comically astounded. “What are you doing,” she wanted to know, “translating each word into four different languages as you go along?” She giggled at her own joke, but soon stopped abruptly with the realization that the entire class, including Mr. Peters, was looking at her. In reaction a rosy pink settled under the artificial blush she had applied to her cheeks.
“Is there a problem, Samantha?” Mr. Peters asked in a voice that was probably supposed to be stern. Poor Mr. Peters. For some reason his vocal cords didn’t allow for sternness either.
“No,” Samantha replied in a neutral tone, then used her nail to open the cover of her own textbook which she had so definitively cast off only moments before. There was nothing, if not very little, from Samantha for the remainder of the class. She was probably aware that between her tardiness, her doodling and her outburst of giggles, she had to be on thin ice with Mr. Peters, even if he couldn’t yell or produce a stern voice.
When their quizzes were handed back Samantha had a large F slashed across her page. This put strict lines through her drawings that made them look like the slashes through a ‘No Smoking’ sign, highly suggesting that the doodles were banned. David also had an F. His was smaller and stood at the top of the page beside a mark reading 20%. He had only gotten one of the five questions right. He had a moment of disappointment but then figured that if Samantha didn’t let her F get to her, he shouldn’t let his get to him.
At last the school day came to an end and when it did David felt a sense of relief so huge, it did not seem reasonable for a teenager. Other than the reminder to work on their projects there had been no homework given for that night. When David caught sight of Samantha stuffing her science books in amongst the glassware of one of the cupboards in the lab he waited until she left then did the same. He quickly sought out a cupboard shelf that wasn’t overflowing with beakers and jars and hid his binder there, ready for tomorrow. Another great idea by Samantha. It meant he didn’t have to go home before calling on Mike. If they hurried he and Mike would just be able to catch a late matinee at Ceedon’s Valley Town Centre.
The day outside the small brick building was a little on the hot side but David didn’t mind. The breeze that had been cooling things off earlier had ceased. His light, sandy blond hair, along with the flags in front of Ceedon’s Valley Secondary School, stood still and limp beneath the one o’clock sun. David took a moment to allow himself to enjoy the feel of the sun’s heat on his skin and the glare of it in his eyes. Naturally this lead to thoughts about the stark contrast between being inside the classroom and being outdoors. Thoughts which in turn lead him back to his notion about how unjust summer school really was — not only because it was school but also because it was school during the summer months. Ugh!
As David was crossing the parking lot, lost in thoughts that alternated between gloom and relief, a red sports car came speeding toward him, out of nowhere, showing no signs of slowing. After a moment of being utterly immobilized by the realization that he was about to be struck by a speeding car, the adrenaline kicked in and David managed to dive out of the path of the oncoming car which, at the very last moment, swerved in the opposite direction to avoid hitting him. Although the car was within David’s sight for only a second he knew exactly who it belonged to. At the wheel there was a very muscular and very tanned man, his jaw firm and square. Sitting beside him, barely visible, was a profile David would know anywhere: Business-style jacket, bare legs, presumably with a tight mini skirt there somewhere, face painted with summer hues of make-up…. Samantha. David wasn’t prepared to swear on it but he suspected Samantha had turned her head to smirk his way. He couldn’t be a hundred per cent sure, of course, because at that moment he was busy planting a kiss on the hot concrete, only turning his head after the car had already sped past. With the adrenaline still flowing he quickly sprang to his feet, but by then the red car was nothing but a small dot up the road.
Somehow a rock had managed to dig itself under the meaty skin of his palm. The small triangle made quickly filled with blood.
“You’re going to be hearing from my lawyer!” David yelled, shaking a fist in the car’s direction, and wishing sincerely he had one to consult. He was absolutely sure that had been Samantha and her boyfriend and David’s first thought was to sue for damages, those being psychological as well as physical. But why should he settle for a law suit? He’d call it the way he saw it, and what he saw was an attempt of vehicular homicide. Samantha had motive enough and if half the things she bragged about were true, her boyfriend would do anything for her. Of course the chances of this going to court were zero to none. For one thing, both Samantha’s parents were lawyers. For another, David hadn’t even come close to getting the license plate number. For a third, if there were witnesses he only knew of one.
“You okay?” a tall, hulking figure had asked him.
David had nodded his head in response and started moving again. He no longer felt like going to the movies. He only wanted to go home. Maybe catch a nap under one of the trees in his back yard. This was something he almost did, and probably would have done, if he hadn’t seen Mike walking along the dirt road that ran alongside the Drop.
Just when David was about to call out to Mike has friend did the strangest thing. He paused about three quarters of the way up the dirt road and looked, first left, then right. Mike’s actions instinctively sent David ducking behind a tree. Mike then walked out to the centre of the road and took a long look in front of him and a long look behind. The next thing Mike did surprised David so much, he was left standing — but only for a few uncounted seconds — with his mouth agape: With the smooth ease of a cat and the sly air of a fox Michael Gregory disappeared through the high bushes and tops of trees alongside the Drop.
David’s amazed trance was broken by the faint sounds of snapping branches and grunts of pain coming from the direction of the Drop. All this was scarcely audible but in the still quiet of the day David heard it and struggled to part branches until he had managed an irregularly shaped peephole. Through the tangle of leaves and branches he saw Mike down on one knee, as if he were proposing marriage. He looked dirty, but not hurt. Easily getting up his friend walked two steps to peer down at a climbing rope on the floor of a very distinct clearing. That’s when
David realized that contrary to popular belief the centre of the Drop was not cluttered with trees and bushes. In fact, it was perfectly empty. All the foliage seemed to grow along the sides. Though unexpected, David could see how the branches of the trees could bend inward to look as though there was nothing but forest growing up from the hole in the ground.
The rope was, in several places, looped and knotted. It appeared to David that although Mike had obviously been down in the Drop more than once, he had never seen the rope. David suspected that it had been left there by the group of men he had come across earlier that morning. The significance of the loops made by the rope on the floor of the clearing was lost on him. If someone had suggested that perhaps trees had covered this unexplored landscape he would have needed convincing. If someone had told him that the trees had been there only a few hours before — sprouting up from the ground within minutes — he just didn’t see how he could believe such a thing.
However the rope was not what amazed David. What did the trick was a ball that came spinning fast out of the gloom towards Mike. David was about to yell for Mike to watch out, but before he could do so Michael held out his hand and the ball slowed and landed lightly in his friend’s palm.
David had to get a closer look. There was no way he could believe what he was seeing. In fact, he wasn’t even sure what he was seeing. He pushed his way beyond the tree line then slowly, taking quick but small shuffling steps, David managed to make it down the steep slope without falling. Upon getting closer he realized that the clear glass sphere was not a sphere at all. Its surface wasn’t smooth and round; instead it seemed to have many points making up many sides. Beneath the cover of the leaves and branches of the Drop there was almost no direct sunlight, but what light there was hit the object at peculiar angles, causing it to throw off rainbows of colour into the gloom. At the bottom of the slope David stood mesmerized as he looked first at the irregularly shaped ball and then at his friend.
Mike was smiling, the look on his face serene as he regarded the object in his palm, before tuning slightly so his back was more completely toward David. David got up from his crouched position behind one of the tree trunks at the base of the drop and approached his friend. In his chest his heart was beating at an impossible rate, with a rhythm no metronome would be able to keep. Nevertheless curiosity pulled him forward — he was about ten feet from Mike and about twelve from the glass shape. The shape kept turning as it hovered just above Mike’s open palm and although he could no longer see the look on Mike’s face he thought that had remained the same also. At two feet Mike had still not turned around and the multifaceted glass kept spinning. Standing about a foot behind Mike, David reached out and put one hand on his friend’s shoulder.
Suddenly everything grew grotesquely still. The ball stopped turning and the flesh beneath the cotton of Mike’s shirt changed, first becoming very hot then turning clammy and stiff. Michael began to turn his head to look behind him. So slow was the motion it seemed as though his head was attached to his neck by old gears that protested and strained at every movement. For no more than a second Mike viewed David out of the corner of his eye. Once he had identified the imposter Michael wheeled quickly on his heel so that the two were standing face to face within a small moment of a second.
“What are you doing here,” Mike said, slowly, in the same way he had spoken to David that Morning. His hand — the right one — that had held the glass shape, was hidden behind his back.
“What do you have there Mike? What is that thing?”
Mike didn’t answer, instead he took a step back, increasing the distance between him and David.
David reached out and grabbed his friend’s arm near the wrist. In response Mike screamed and tried to pull away, but David wouldn’t let up on his grip. Somehow he managed to twist Mike’s hand so the clear glass shape was held between them. It was about five inches in diameter and barely able to fit in Mike’s small palm, giving him minimal grip.
“What is that?” David asked again.
Again Mike didn’t answer. Instead he jerked his hand free and brought that glass shape above his head. David didn’t know what Mike planned to do but when the glass ball was raised and Mike’s hand drawn back as though he were about to throw it, David brought his own arm up to meet Michael’s forearm. Mike pushed forward; David did the same, pushing in the opposite direction. The stronger of the two won. The glass ball was sent flying backwards over Mike’s head. It flew towards the far corner of the clearing. Both Michael and David stood, looking at the ball as though they expected to see something of interest. And they soon did.
The imperfect orb went spinning across the clearing towards a patch of light. It was only later that David realized that that was the only direct sunlight within the Drop. Everything else that happened seemed to take place within the span of a second: The moment the conformation began to cast its shadow over the patch of light the heated July afternoon was quickly cooled off by a fierce wind, a strong breeze that, it seemed to David, tried to tear at their skin. David braced himself and squinted against the breeze. Through his half closed eyes he managed to see that as the glass shape spiralled further into the light it became creased with cracks. Fine lines decorated it within a moment, and, within another, the polyhedron was no more. It shattered with a distinctive “pop” and then a lyrical tinkling as the pieces abutted one another as they fell to the forest floor. There were now fine, clean cut pieces of glass covering most of the patch of light. The darkness of the Drop turned complete for a moment before an intense flash of blue, seemingly like lightning, lit up their entire surroundings for another, before again reverting back to the usual gloom of the Drop. At that point the wind simply vanished. In the Drop the silence was palpable. The glass geometric shape lay, shattered, in the far corner. Standing in front of David with his back towards David, looking in the direction of the patch of light, Mike began to tremble. Mike was shaking. Mike was angry. And soon Mike was turning in David’s direction.
CHAPTER NINE
Last night it had fed moderately, now it was dozing. Hidden far within the caves — much further than Michael would ever go — the creature was completely shielded from the hot July day. Within the caves it was slightly damp but very, very cool. It was also perpetually dark. The creature liked it there very much.
But now, within its doze, something had changed. It could feel this, and the feeling was so sickly familiar it took everything within the creature not to jar itself awake.
The creature was suddenly afraid. Sure, this had happened before: it had slept the deep sleep when it had only meant to doze. The creature had understood then, like it did now, that there was something wrong with the equidistant-self. Consequently, that meant there was also something wrong with it.
The creature could feel its respiration slowing down; it could feel its heart rate slowing also. Suddenly, in a moment of panic, it wanted to open its eyes, but its lids were too heavy to lift. It wasn’t long before the creature understood its other half was badly hurt.
The last time this had happened it had taken uncountable moons before the equidistant-self and the creature were revived. But this time things would be different. This time there were the medicament plants. The creature knew all about them. It knew the equidistant-self had brought them to rise — just like it had brought to rise the canopy — in order to protect itself. In order to protect them both, really. So why did the creature think this situation to be any worse? Why did it fall into its deep slumber thinking the inner-self would need more than the medicament plants to revive itself? True, the creature believed all this but it also believed this sleep would be much shorter than its last one. The equidistant-self would quickly revive itself and the creature… even if it took more than the medicament plants to do so.
CHAPTER TEN
Suddenly the air seemed thinner, and the light within the clearing brighter. Mike had sensed the change in the air’s texture before, but it was only now that he su
spected what it could be. Had the air been thin or thick when it had rained? Had it been thin or thick when he’d snuck away from the party? He suspected it had been thin. The same kind of thin that was outside the Drop. It was the kind of thinness one associated with clean air and toward it Michael held nothing but bitter contempt. Getting to love and relish the thicker air was a slow and lengthy process. It reminded Mike of something damp and old.
The realization that whatever it was that sometimes inhabited the Drop was alive had come out of nowhere, catching Mike by surprise. But it was true. Whatever had been in the air had been alive. It had had something to do with the polyhedron, he just knew. Chances were it was the magic. The magic and the polyhedron were somehow linked — that was something he knew with a certainty he could not explain. Whenever the magic had been in the air there was always that thickness. Mike only realized that now. Now that it was gone.
What had once been the seat of the magic now lay shattered in the furthest corner of the clearing. The glass pieces covered the patch of light and, although direct sunlight continued to shine upon it, the broken polyhedron did not reflect any colours. The blues, the pinks, the greens: all were absent. The polyhedron was destroyed and, he could only assume, so was the magic.
Mike stared at the shattered pieces of glass for a long, long while. He felt sick with rage and dizzy with hate. All of these emotions were directed at David. David who kept calling his name in that questioning tone.
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