CHAPTER THREE:
The Master’s Plan
“So, what do I do after this?” Max asks as he dumps the ground turkey into the skillet.
Tammie smiles at him from the sink as she fills a pot with water. “We’re going to put this on the stove, add a little salt, and let it boil. Pass me the lid?”
Max grabs a lid from the cabinet and hands it to Tammie. “What’s that for?”
“To speed up the boiling process!” Tammie hums as she makes her way to the stove. “A little trick my grandma taught me.”
Max shrugs and sighs as Tammie passes him a tomato, a cucumber, and a green pepper from their grocery bag. “Are these supposed to speed up the boiling process, too?”
“Nope!” Tammie laughs. “You cut these up for the salad.”
Max makes a face and grabs a knife. “You know, my dad and I aren’t really big on vegetables.”
“Rinse those before you cut them,” Tammie instructs him. “And I asked you what you wanted in your salad, but you told me ‘whatever.’”
“Yeah, that was before I found out I’d be cutting them myself.” Tammie laughs as she waddles over to the table and pulls out a chair.
“You okay?” Max asks, watching her carefully.
“Mhm,” Tammie smiles and pats her belly. “But the kitchen is way too small for both of us to be cutting stuff. I’ll slice the bread here.”
Max hands her the loaf of Italian bread and a knife before resuming his duties. “I really appreciate you doing this for me, Tammie. My dad and I suck at cooking. Besides, today was his first day at his new job, and I wanted to surprise him.”
“Anytime!” Tammie shrugs as she slices into the bread. “By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll be cooking as well as me!”
“Let’s aim a little lower and hope I don’t burn the house down,” Max smirks. “Veggies are done! Now what?”
“Take the lettuce from the sink,” Tammie points. “I already washed it and chopped it. Mix it in a bowl with the veggies. And don’t forget to stir that ground meat!”
“Ok!” Max obeys and stirs the meat before mixing the salad. Tammie finishes the bread and places it in a basket on the table. “You can take the leftover bread and put it in a storage bag so it won’t go to waste. Let me show you how to season the meat.”
Tammie leaves the table and pulls out the seasonings from the cabinet. “You don’t have any Italian seasoning?”
“Salt and pepper is all we got,” Max shrugs.
“It’ll have to do,” Tammie bites her lip. “Not my best work, but it’ll still taste good. Especially with the spaghetti sauce.”
“So how do I season the meat?” Max asks.
“I’m going to show you the way my grandma showed me when I first learned,” Tammie grabs the salt and pours some into Max’s hand. “Pour some in your hand, about the size of a dime, for one pound of meat. See?”
“Ok. How do you know it’s enough?” Max asks.
“We’re going to taste the meat before we add the sauce,” Tammie answers.
“Oh, makes sense. Then what?”
“For the other seasonings, in this case the pepper, we’ll do four shakes. The main thing you have to worry about is the salt. You can always add more salt, but start small, because you can’t take the salt away once it’s in there.”
“Water’s boiling,” Max observes. “I should add the pasta now?”
“Yep!” Tammie and Max finish up dinner and set the table just in time for Mr. Shaw’s arrival.
“Something smells delicious,” Mr. Shaw observes as he walks through the door. “Max, what’s this?” Mr. Shaw admires the spread on the table.
“I made dinner!” Max grins. Tammie clears her throat and nudges Max in the ribs. “With help, of course. Dad, this is my friend Tammie.”
“Nice to meet you, Mr. Shaw,” Tammie reaches her hand out, and Mr. Shaw shakes it vigorously.
“Likewise,” Mr. Shaw greets. “Thank you, Tammie. I’m sure Max wasn’t much help in the kitchen.”
Max makes a sound in protest. “Are you kidding me? I’ve never done so much chopping in my life!”
“I’d say it was about fifty-fifty,” Tammie laughs. “He did alright for his first time around. I’d better get going, though.”
“No, no, stay and eat with us,” Mr. Shaw interjects.
“Sorry, I’ve got to watch my sibs tonight,” Tammie apologizes. “But I hope you enjoy the food!”
“Thanks again, Tammie!” Max walks her to the door and hugs her goodbye. Max returns to the table and Mr. Shaw returns from washing his hands in the kitchen sink.
“I promise it’s edible, Dad,” Max chuckles as he begins loading his plate.
“It looks really good,” Mr. Shaw muses. “Max, is there something you want to tell me?”
“Hmm?” Max looks up with a mouthful of food. “About what?”
“Your friend, Tammie,” Mr. Shaw hems. “She’s pregnant, isn’t she?”
“Yeah,” Max shrugs and continues to eat.
“Max, I know your mother and I had this talk with you before, but I think it bears repeating if you’re going to have girls over when I’m not home. When boys and girls get together, sometimes things happen…”
Max snaps his head up. “Whoa! Dad, I don’t think this conversation is necessary. I asked Tammie to come over because I wanted to have dinner ready when you got here. From now on if I invite her over, it will be after you get home, ok?”
“Fair enough,” Mr. Shaw clears his throat and makes his plate. “Just give me a heads up if I’m going to be a grandpa, will you?”
“Dad…” Max rolls his eyes. “I think you’re safe.”
“Mmm, this is good,” Mr. Shaw smiles.
•••
Johnny has heard rumors about this place, but he’s never actually been here. He follows slowly as Frank leads him to a rundown shack in the woods behind Logoria Memorial Park. It looks abandoned, the window in the front is cracked, and the door is sitting slightly off its hinge. The only sign of life is a faint light, flitting through the window.
As soon as Frank opens the door, Johnny’s nose constricts. The air is thick with body odor, marijuana and sickly-sweet, pungent incense burning in every corner of the room. The shack is larger on the inside than it appears to be from the outside. As they walk down the long, narrow hallway, Johnny hears the faint sound of humming.
The chanting has already begun. Their group has rites of passage; Johnny’s invitation tonight is a clear indicator that they think he is ready to become part of the core; part of the brotherhood. His induction into the group tonight will include his recital of the creed and one of the ancient chants found in their chant book. Johnny isn’t sure if they’re really ancient, but they are required reading to become a part of the core, also known as the S.K.U.L.L.S.
Sons, Kings, United, Loyal, Limitless, Supreme; that’s their maxim. Johnny was introduced to the SKULLS only recently. Frank invited him to become part of the group the previous fall. After a humiliating fight with Martin West, and a disappointing rematch, Johnny had accepted.
The core is a family, a unit. They believe that they are all sons of a mighty creator. The faithful are rewarded with kingships and given their own territory to rule. All members of the group are required to be loyal to one another and follow the rules set forth by their king. The chant book provides spells and remedies, and for situations that require more powerful solutions, the kings are called upon for wisdom. Supposedly, a king has direct access to the creator; therefore, a son cannot bypass a king for power. Only a king can instruct a son on the spells of the chant book. The SKULLS are a well-known group in Johnny’s area. Along with the benefits, anyone who joins has to accept whatever judgment or punishment a king gives.
Frank leads Johnny down a stairwell, into the basement. There is a door at the bottom. They are about to open it, but a SKULLS member wearing an African tiger mask stops them as soon as they get to the bottom.
??
?Cite the code!” he demands.
Frank rolls his eyes. “Let us pass, Steve, he’s got an appointment.”
“Cite it!” he hisses again.
Johnny looks nervously at Frank, unsure of what to do next. Frank mutters a curse and holds up his right hand. “Sons, Kings, United, Loved, Limitless, Supreme! SKULLS forever, may all others burn eternally or conform to this creed.”
The tiger-man nods in satisfaction and lets them pass. Immediately, Johnny’s eyes dilate and his nose burns as the scent of marijuana attacks his sinuses.
The room is darkly lit, and there are two other SKULLS in the room. One is a young teenage girl. She has on an African mask as well; hers is a bat. She is sitting at the feet of a robed figure; her head is cropped in an angle of pure adoration. Johnny knows the figure before him is the one he came to see tonight.
He is called the Master. He wears no mask, but the hood of his black robe conceals his face. Johnny glances around the room. There are soft cushions on the floor, a large wooden chair where the Master sits, and a three-legged table beside him. Nothing else.
Johnny looks at the table beside the Master. There are three pipes and a syringe sticking out of an ashtray, as well as ashes from the remains of a joint. The Master nods his head slightly and the young girl gets up and walks out of the room. Steve, the tiger-man, follows her, closing the door behind him.
“You have come with an inquiry,” the Master states it as a fact.
Johnny clears his throat. “Yes, sir. I um... I have a problem with my fa—“
“First the creed, outsider,” the Master hisses menacingly.
Johnny feels the blood drain from his face. A jolt of terror fills his heart as he realizes his mistake. He knows better than to speak to the Master before giving the creed. Frank frowns at Johnny for his blunder, and Johnny looks down in shame. He can’t remember the creed...
“I grow impatient!” the Master hisses again.
Johnny is sure that he hears more than just the Master hissing the second time, as if someone or something else is in the room.
The words finally come to him. “To be a Son, to Serve the King, to Unite the Brotherhood, to Love with Blood, to surpass all Limits, to reign Supreme.”
The Master nods in satisfaction. “Now the chant,” he orders.
Johnny opens the chant book he brought with him and begins reciting the initiation lyrics. The Master’s head rolls back, and his body shivers eerily with every stanza Johnny parrots. When Johnny finishes, the Master smiles and waves his hand at Frank, who nods and leaves the room.
“Speak,” the Master invites him to bring his request.
Johnny begins again, this time more confident. “I have a problem with my father. Well, he’s not really my father, but he married my mother. But he mistreats her. He... ” Johnny looks at the scar on his hand, “he mistreats all of us.”
The Master grabs a vial out of his robe and taps it on the table. White powder pours out of it. “Why should this concern me?” the Master asks, disinterested.
Johnny stares at him wide-eyed. “Because he hurts us! Last fall, he threw me against a wall and gave me this cut!” Johnny lifts his hand high enough for the Master to see. The scar is visible enough, but the Master squints, as if it were no bigger than a paper cut. “He was mad at me for losing a fight at school.”
“If he is a problem, then handle him yourself,” the Master states. He adds cruelly, “Perhaps it was a mistake to allow you to become part of the brotherhood. You seem weak.” The Master sniffs in the powder with one of the pipes and rolls his head back.
“You didn’t make a mistake, Master,” Johnny states humbly. “But I lost that fight to Martin West. He’s a jock, and-”
The Master snaps his head forward, jerks off his hood and stands to his feet, revealing bloodshot eyes and a massive physique. “Did you say West?” he asks through clenched teeth.
Johnny swallows hard, unsure of what to expect.
“Yeah, Martin West,” he replies. The Master’s eyes pierce through Johnny’s, searching him for some sign of deception. Finally satisfied, he sits down again, returning his hood to its previous position and folding his hands together.
He beckons to Johnny. “Come, my son,” he stretches out his hand and motions Johnny forward. Johnny steps forward timidly. “I will help you with your problem, but first, you must do something for me.”
Johnny looks at him quizzically. “What can I do for you?” he asks, unsure.
The Master smiles. “Love with blood.”
Johnny’s breath catches in his throat. Something about the way he spoke sounded deadly. The part of the creed involving “love with blood” usually means some sort of living sacrifice. He can’t possibly be asking him to...
“I don’t understand,” Johnny replies. “What are you saying?”
The Master places his hand on Johnny’s shoulder, pushing him closer so that they are face to face. “What are you willing to do to ensure your family’s safety?”
Johnny’s answer is immediate. “Anything.”
The Master smiles. “Good! This is what I need from you.”
•••
Jennifer can’t take it anymore. She needs to find Martin, tell him exactly what she thinks of him, and let the chips fall where they may. They’ve spent the last few weeks at odds, and enough is enough. She rehearses what she’ll say during volleyball practice. She misses several volleys and is told off at least twice by the team captain, but she just can’t focus. Not while her relationship with Martin is in flux.
“Why does everything he says to me get under my skin?” she mutters in the locker room.
She will definitely call him today. No. She’ll go to his house and speak to him face to face. His neighborhood is in walking distance, same as hers, so she grabs her book bag and sets off toward the West residence.
•••
When Jennifer arrives she is both disappointed and embarrassed. Mrs. West answers the door.
“Hi, Jennifer!” she chirps. “What can I do for you?”
“Is Martin home?” Jennifer asks. Mrs. West tilts her head in confusion.
“Martin went to Mr. James’ house this afternoon,” she says. “Didn’t he tell you?”
“No,” she says slowly. Jennifer’s face grows hot, and she kicks herself for not calling first.
“Is everything alright?” Mrs. West asks. “I know Martin’s been a little distracted ever since Max moved. Maybe he forgot you were coming?”
“No,” Jen shakes her head. “He didn’t know I was coming.”
“Oh,” is all Mrs. West says, but she looks embarrassed for Jennifer.
Jennifer thanks her and walks towards Katalia Falls where her mother and siblings are probably enjoying an afternoon together. On the way there she stops by the public library. She has some research to do for her government class and needs to pick up some books.