After struggling a few moments to make out some of the words, he gave up. He set it on the night stand and went back to his spot on the floor.
By early evening, Miles wanted to pull his hair out. He couldn’t stand being grounded. Normally, he wasn’t such a poor sport when it came to staying in his room, but that was because, before, he’d always gotten to leave his room periodically. Plus, they’d never taken away his game before.
Miles paced about his room. He heard the television from the living room suddenly come on.
Thinking he was being clever, Miles cracked the door of his room so he could hear it more clearly.
He lay on the floor and stared at the ceiling when he heard a commotion outside.
Curiously, he sighed as he stood.
He pulled back the curtain, slightly. Across the cul de sac, at an angle, Seven’s back yard was slightly visible.
“Whoa!”
A bright, yellow light glared out from their house into the back yard.
A moment later, he heard a knock at the front door.
Miles leant his ear against the bedroom door and listened.
“Hi” said Seven’s voice. “My mom is having a barbeque. Some of the neighborhood kids are over. She wanted me to invite you and Miles.”
“Well, we can’t. Tell your mom I said thanks, but Miles’ is still grounded.”
The door closed.
He watched Seven walk back to his house, but, just before he closed the back yard gate, he looked directly into Miles’ eyes and smirked.
He went back to his spot on the floor and fell asleep.
“Miles,” said his mother, waking him up sometime later. “This door is to stay closed.”
She put a tray of meatloaf on the bed.
He ate jealously, as he thought of the kids, across the way, eating hot dogs or hamburgers.
Some of the kids screamed delightfully, followed by a splash.
He looked out of the window again.
Kids jumped up and down on a trampoline. Behind them, he saw they’d put in a swimming pool. A kid was standing on a diving board, about to jump in.
From down the sidewalk, a group of kids walked up the block, but they didn’t look like they belonged in that neighborhood. In fact, they looked a little rough around the edges, with torn jeans and dirty sneakers. One of them looked like he hadn’t brushed his hair in a couple days.
They walked up to the house and knocked.
About 9 pm, things began to wind down. Miles listened to the sounds of cars approaching, the parents’ chit chatting, and then driving away.
His mother and father had already gone to their bedroom, where they liked to have quiet time in the evenings.
Once more, he peeked out the window. Just like earlier, he saw a strange gold light flash from the house and light up the backyard.
Determined to find out what it was, he waited until he heard his parents turn off their television, and the sounds of their snores through the walls.
When he heard these things, he opened his bedroom door and tip toed to the living room, unlocked the front door and ran across the street.
Afraid that to approach the property from the front would set the squirrels – or whatever they were, off, he walked to the rear of the house, up to the gate.
A light glow was still coming from the house.
Carefully, he unlatched the gate.
Amazingly, the trampoline and the pool had disappeared. In the center of the yard was a large white refrigerator, only it looked like it was from the fifties.
It had a chain locked latch.
He turned his attention to the kitchen, which was completely visible through the glass.
First, he noticed that dozens of cups lined the counter. They surrounded an igloo with a nozzle, just like the one at Pizza and Stuff, except this one was blue.
Gently, he pulled back the glass door and walked in on the balls of his foot.
He looked into one of the cups and noticed that a gold liquid had been left on the bottom.
He stuck his finger in. It was warm; somehow, it gave him a lift. He felt energetic, like he could have run a mile in a minute.
There was a stirring from the other side of the house.
Miles exited, quickly, left the back yard and ran back to his house.
He looked out of the window, and could have sworn he saw a pair of red circles gleaming at him from between the curtains in Seven’s house.
The next morning, his mother brought him breakfast.
As he munched his corn flakes, there was a knock at the door.
Gently, he opened the bedroom door. From the sounds of it, two police men were looking for some kids who lived at the group home on the other side of town.
“They went missing last night. The lady who works at the house said they were headed this way, for a pool party.”
“No, I never saw anyone. We didn’t go to the party last night. My son is grounded, so we stayed here,” he heard his mother say.
They exchanged a few more words, and then the door closed.
Miles looked through the window. Seven was in his usual spot, but, this time, he was watching Miles’ window.
He returned to his breakfast. Later, he looked across the cul de sace, again. Seven was still staring at his window.
~~~
That following week, his parents decided to let him out of his room. He was feeling happy about that, until Seven came by and told his parents that they were planning a camping trip for the kids.
Although Miles tried to argue, his parents insisted that he go.
“Look, Mom, I didn’t tell you this because I knew you wouldn’t believe me, but I saw a couple kids that didn’t look like they were from around here. They showed up at the party just after dark.”
“What’s that got to do with anything?”
“I’m saying the neighbors lied about not the seeing the missing kids. They did, in fact, show up.”
“How did you know they’re missing?” asked his mother.
He was silent a moment before saying, “Whatever, I’m not going.”
“Miles, the neighbors are not bad people. And you are going. You’ve been moping around this house since school ended. This is a good chance to get out, get some exercise and make some new friends.”
Camp Happy Grounds
Chapter 8
The following week, Miles and several other kids from the neighborhood squeezed into Seven’s family’s SUV. Though he tried to fight his parents on this, they wouldn’t relent.
All the kids piled in, happily, not knowing what they were in for. But Miles wasn’t stupid; he’d packed his pellet gun and enough BBs to last a year. If they tried anything, they’d be getting stitches.
And he was sure they were going to try something. They kept throwing him evil glances, now and again.
Miles pretended not to notice, but he was prepared.
Also, he didn’t forget to pack the red marble. There was no way he was going to leave it in his room, so that when those invisible things came up the hole, they could steal it.
The leather bag was, now, hanging around his neck.
A few hours later, they pulled up to a guy at the camp entrance. He collected $50 from them, and gave them a map.
They drove up the dusty road, past many other camp settlements.
Finally, they made it many miles out to a large bald spot that was surrounded by trees. Miles’ heart pounded a little, as he realized that help was quite far away.
He sighed, deeply, when another family of campers came up the way, right as they parked. They waved as they drove by.
Miles looked at Janet’s face in the rearview mirror. She looked disappointed.
They climbed out of the SUV and began to setup.
Miles had been designated to sleep in the tent with two boys he’d never met before: Brian and Mike.
While they worked on the tent, Miles pretended to go looking for fire wood. Instead, he sat
on a stump in the trees by the SUV.
He watched the kids wondering how many of them were like his strange neighbors. Would they all jump him when he wasn’t looking, or would they wait until he fell asleep and kill him?
His answer came, a moment later, when he heard Seven talking to his mom.
They’d walked up to the SUV to get bottled water.
“So, tonight, I’ll grab him,” Seven said.
“No,” said the mother. “It’s not a good idea to make him disappear without a trace. We have to find another way. If we take kids from around us without clear explanation, then we’ll have more humans around. This would make our mission harder.”
“What do you suggest?”
“We rip him to shreds...” his mother said with a wicked tone.
“And blame it on a bear, haha.”
“Tonight!” she affirmed.
There was no doubt that they were talking about him. Now that he knew their plan, he would be prepared.
He wanted to stay in the bushes and watch, but his stomach started rumbling shortly after.
Trying to act normal, he joined the other campers.
That evening, as they were roasting s’mores, the neighboring campers came over and asked if they’d be interested in a sniper hunt.
Most of the kids were excited.
“Come on,” said Seven, trying to coax him.
“No, thanks.”
“Miles, go play!” said Janet with a meanness he’d never seen before.
He got up and walked with Seven to the next camp.
The adults of the campers told them to find the sniper, and whoever got it would get a bag of snickers bars.
Like the others, he ran into the trees, but instead of looking for the sniper, he snuck into his tent and got his BB gun ready.
He sat on his sleeping bag and listened to screaming and laughing in the forest.
About midnight, the kids returned to the camp.
Soon after, his tent-mates entered the tent.
Miles pretended to be asleep.
The snores of his tent-mates drowned out the sounds of the crickets.
He lay awake for many hours, wondering when Seven would come for him.
He’d just started to doze off when he heard the crunch of gravel getting closer to his tent.
He saw the fingers of a hand, through the nylon of the tent, reach out to the zipper and pull it up.
Miles didn’t waste time. Though he didn’t see for sure that it was Seven, he sat up and shot multiple pellets at the figure.
Whoever it was screamed high and mighty.
Miles crawled to the flaps and looked out. He didn’t see Seven, but it had to have been him.
He turned around and saw the other two in his tent were watching him.
“What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Go back to sleep.”
He stayed awake most of the night, but nodded off toward morning.
The kids had breakfast while he slept.
Then the sound of screaming came from the next camp over.
Soon after, a woman came into their camp and shouted, “My son, he’s gone.”
~~~
After Janet, Bob, and the kids answered the sheriff’s questions, they packed up and headed back.
He tried to explain to his parents that Janet and Bob were responsible for the missing kid, but they still didn’t believe him.
That night he kept up the same pretense, except he slept on the floor, facing the bed with his rifle in his grip.
He turned off the lights and pretended to be asleep.
Just when he felt he could no longer stay away, and was considering getting into his bed, he heard a stirring from the floor.
Miles stayed right where he was, with his eyes closed.
He listened intently for the sound of the carpet mushing inward under the things step.
When he heard it, he sat up, quick, pointed his rifle and shot directly in front of him.
Chuck, chuck, chuck chuck, came the squirrel noises.
He continued shooting when, finally, “Stop! Please, stop,” something said.
“Show yourself,” said Miles, “or I’ll keep shooting.”
Although he couldn’t see too clearly, a small boy-like creature appeared. Keeping the rifle steady, Miles flipped the light switch so he could get a better look.
The boy had the largest green eyes Miles had ever seen, and his hair was a greenish blond color, almost like he’d spent too much time in a swimming pool. He was the size of a large stuffed animal, standing at two feet. Even more shocking then its size was its button nose, red pupils, pointed little ears and little knobby horns that stuck out of its head.
“What are you?” asked Miles fearlessly.
The little person revealed two long canines when he spoke.
“I’m a Brownie,” he spoke in a high pitched voice.
“What?”
“A Brownie. We are a race of people. You have a book that explains, but you didn’t read it.”
“What book?”
“That book,” he pointed to the desk.
“That tiny thing?”
“You are insulting, sir!” he shouted.
“SHHHHH!!!” Miles said. “My parents are sleeping. Keep your voice down.”
He walked to the door and put his ear against it to make sure his parents hadn’t waked.
When he was certain they still slept, he said, “I didn’t mean to insult you. What are you doing in my room?”
“As if you don’t know.”
“No, I don’t. You got two seconds to answer, or I’ll start shooting again,” Miles said as he raised his rifle to the ready.
“Uh - uh – okay!” he said, holding up his hands in a give-in gesture.
As it was, little dark blue welts had begun to form on his body.
“There’s a war going on between my clan and the Sylphs.”
“Who?”
“Another race that wishes to take over our world.”
“Why?”
“Because our land is magical, and we have plenty of resources. They do not wish to stay here; they, like we, simply have no choice.”
“So what are you all doing here? In my neighborhood and in my house? Why aren’t you guys fighting in your world?”
“Because the way we cross into each other’s dimensions is through portals in and out of this world. Kind of like worm holes, if you will. The universe is made up in a yin and yang way. You have magical dimensions tied to a non magical one.”
Not sure if he understood, he asked, “So you’re saying that our world is non magical, and it’s tied to two magical worlds?”
“Not just two, but seven; however, your greatest scientists like to estimate that there are likely thirteen. But my people only know of the seven, as we’ve visited them all. Think of this world as a 3D puzzle piece, and all the pieces it connects to are magical. The universe is like that; many pieces interconnected.”
“That still doesn’t answer my question, though. Why are you guys coming in and out of my room? I’ve seen your buddies all over town. There must be other ways to get in and out of this world.”
“There are, indeed, hundreds of ways to get in and out of all the dimensions, but they’re all guarded by beings, like me.”
“But I never noticed you or any of your kind before.”
“The portals realign themselves every hundred years or so. That’s why the men wanted to buy this house, and everyone else’s on this block, because the portal realigned itself just a few months ago.”
“So what am I supposed to do, then? Just ignore the fact that you guys are coming in and out of my house like you own it?”
“Frankly, you have no choice. There’s no way you can stop it, and, really, who will believe you anyway? Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a meeting to get to.”
“Wait!” said Miles. “What’s your name?”
“It’s none of your business; preten
d you never saw me. Now, go back to sleep.”
He reached his little hand up to the door knob, turned it and left the room.
Miles was angry at the Brownie’s dismissiveness.
He wasn’t going to listen though.
Not his business, ha!
He was going to find the Brownie and his buddies, and then tell them to find another portal, or else.
Quickly he put on his shoes, and, not forgetting his pellet gun, ran outside.
He started to take off down the street, but then stopped.
Suddenly, his neighborhood was like a wild jungle. Chucking noises rent the air in the thousands. Trees and bushes shook everywhere, but, this time, he could see everything.
There were little people everywhere: in the trees and in the bushes around the houses. One was even sitting on a street lamp, brushing its hair.
Some of them moved around, inside and across, the trees and bushes by swinging from their arms, while others levitated or flew using wings.
At the end of the street, he saw the Brownie make a left.
Miles kept a distance as he followed him.
They went past the Mapley’s Liquor Store, and across the street and past the Thai restaurant.
Finally, they approached Miles’ school. He hung back a moment and watched the Brownie as he jumped clear over the chained fences.
A second later, Miles slipped through the fences and ran up the entrance of the school.
He walked down the side hall where all the lockers were. It led him down to the courtyard in the center of most of the classrooms.
He hung back, at the courtyard entrance and craned his neck just past the wall.
There, in the grass, a dozen creatures that were about the same height as the Brownie had a fist sized fire going.
They made the same chucking noises as before, only, this time, Miles’ seemed to understand what they were saying.
As the one he followed approached the group, they all turned their heads.
“Tess, what took you so long?” asked a little blond man with a long red beard.
“The boy detained me!” he said angrily.
“What?”
They looked horrified.
“How did that happen?” asked one that looked to be in charge. He had black hair and brilliant blue eyes, and stood with an air of importance.
“He was waiting for me, and then he shot me with that filthy human contraption!” Tess squeaked.
“Well,” said the one with the red beard. “We knew it would only be a matter of time. He’s a kid, after all. They notice things that adults don’t.”