Untold
By Brad OH Inc.
Copyright 2015 Brad OH Inc.
A Story Untold
A Short Story by Brad OH Inc.
“Myra is a damn cheater!” hollered Todd. He ran a hand through his dirty blonde bangs to keep the sweat out of his eyes.
“Watch it Todd,” warned Bruce, “don’t you remember we’ve got Zeke with us today?” Bruce was Zeke’s older brother, which made it his solemn duty to protect him. Usually, Zeke didn’t come out with Bruce and his friends, but their parents had something important to do that afternoon, so Bruce had been appointed as his deputy caretaker. “He’s only six you guys, watch your mouths.”
“I’m not a cheater, you stupid jerk!” yelled Myra. The stout, red-haired girl stood resolute at the far end of the playground, her hands on her hips as she turned her wrath upon Todd. “You didn’t touch me cause you’re not fast enough!”
With that, Todd tore off in pursuit of Myra, the two of them burning a path across the field and into the big forest out back.
“C’mon Zeke, we’ve gotta keep up,” said Bruce. A soft hand on his brother’s little shoulder led the way. Whenever they were out together, Zeke found some way to slow Bruce down. But their parents had told him that big brothers had big responsibilities, so he tried his best to live up.
“Let’s go!” Zeke squealed. He always acted like everything was just one big adventure, which left Bruce to worry about staying safe, and getting home on time, and all the important stuff. But these were distant thoughts in Bruce’s busy head as he guided his brother across the big grass field, following after his pals.
Myra and Todd were best friends. Always had been so far as Bruce was aware. They were an odd pair to be sure—Todd’s aggressive attitude had isolated him from nearly all their other classmates, except for Myra, whose tomboy nature and rough-around-the-edges demeanour found their welcome counterpart in his company.
When Bruce started at their school early last year, none of the other kids had seemed very friendly. Neither had Myra and Todd for that matter, but they weren’t unfriendly either, and accepted anyone willing to keep up and play along with their endless competitions.
“Why are they always yelling at each other? Aren’t we all having fun?” Zeke’s eyes lit up like fireflies whenever he spoke, as if all the same sorts big ideas and thoughts Bruce had were locked away inside his head, waiting patiently for the day Zeke would have the words to set them all free.
Bruce increased the pressure on Zeke’s shoulder, hurrying him along at his side. “That’s just the way they play. One always wants to be better than the other.”
They dashed to the end of the grassy field and ducked into the woods. The forest behind the school where Bruce, Todd, and Myra would enter the sixth grade at the end of summer was off limits when school was in. But that was still three weeks away.
“You’ll never catch me!” Myra’s voice came from just ahead.
“That’s what you think donkey-brains!” was Todd’s answer.
Their banter continued as Bruce carved his way through the bramble, checking back dutifully on Zeke every few steps. “Hurry Zeke!”
“Whoa!” Myra’s high-pitched yell startled Bruce. He’d never heard her express much beyond frustration, or the determination to rise to whatever absurd challenge Todd had placed before her.
Continuing along, Bruce waited for the teasing he could only assume would be Todd’s reply, but none came. The sudden silence of the forest made Bruce’s skin crawl, and he redoubled his efforts, rushing ahead through the trees to find his friends. “C’mon Zeke, hurry up!”
Pushing his way through a cluster of bushes and dodging under a low-hanging branch, Bruce finally burst free of the trees into the small clearing beyond.
There, Myra and Todd stood shoulder to shoulder, their arms hanging limp by their sides. Neither said a word. Neither shoved the other, nor issued any sort of challenge.
Bruce felt a big knot forming in his stomach.
Glancing back and forth at each of them in turn, Bruce was certain he’d find some clue of what they were up to. Todd wore his camouflage shirt…as if it would make him invisible. Myra stood lazily in torn up jeans and a bright orange shirt—she got to wear her ‘old’ clothes almost exclusively over the summer.
Bruce sauntered up cautiously. “What’s going on you—?”
Then he too fell silent.
Just in front of his two friends sat the strangest object he’d ever seen. Bruce hadn’t noticed it until just that moment. In fact, it almost seemed to shudder into being as he approached—just the opposite of the desert mirages he’d learned about from a Sunday morning TV show a few days back.
Shaped like a tear-drop on its side, it could have fit one…maybe two of his bedrooms in its fat end. It was shiny white—almost like a toilet bowl—save for a strange shimmer rippling over its surface, playing with its colours like wind passing over a still lake. ‘Iridescent’, Bruce thought his teacher had once called the effect.
Its surface was smooth, with no sign of paint or lettering—not even a single screw was visible on its long, flawless frame. At the very back—near the wide end of the tear-drop—a thin black space opened, with a white ramp leading up into it. Bruce saw no evidence of a shadow beneath the ship’s gently curving underbelly.
It didn’t make a sound. Rather, it seemed to Bruce that it may actually be gobbling up all the nearby sounds. No birds could be heard, no traffic in the distance. Bruce couldn’t even hear the sound of his heart, although he felt it pounding in his chest like a marching drum.
“What is it?” Todd’s usual bravery gave way to an uncertain murmur.
“Is it…” Myra ventured, before trailing off and staring silently, a queer look on her face.
Bruce just stood in silence, watching his reflected image wobble along the surface of the mysterious bulk.
“It’s like some kind of gnarly submarine. Remember we talked about those last year?” Todd’s voice was low and somber, and Bruce noticed that his hands trembled at his sides.
“It’s not a sub you dolt. Those only go in the water.” Myra always put on a bold front, but Bruce was certain her rough voice shook a bit as she spoke, and the competitive snarl she usually gave Todd was nowhere to be seen.
“A Spaceship! Wow!” Zeke broke through the woods at a gallop, and his excited screech shattered the fragile quiet of the small clearing, shocking the group out of their solemn considerations.
“I think he’s right,” said Bruce, turning to check on his tardy little brother. Zeke pulled up alongside, busily pulling at the legs of his khaki shorts, which had bunched all up as he ran.
“Oh boy! C’mon!” cried Zeke once he’d finished, and before anyone could say a word, he jockeyed around the older kids, jumped in the air with a clap, then sprinted across the small stretch of grass, up the ramp and into the dark interior of the imposing craft.
“Zeke, no…” Bruce’s protest got caught up somewhere in his throat, and came drifting out limp and stale. He took half a step forward and stiffened his lip, but then stumbled into a pathetic slouch. “We’ve got to go after him you guys!” he finished, failing to convince even himself.
“I’m not going near that thing,” said Myra.
“Me neither,” Todd agreed.
Bruce gazed up at the ship, which remained entirely still. Looking at it made him shiver—it felt so out of place, and sent a strange chill along his spine. He closed his eyes and wished more than anything that he and Zeke were back at home, curled up on the downstairs couch drinking root beer and watching all the shows their parents wouldn’t let them watch upstairs.
When Bruce opened his eyes, nothing had changed, and a terrible hollow opened up in his gu
ts that made his face scrunch up and his eyes itch. “Well, we have to…” he said, but his conviction suffocated in the warm, still air.
“You guys, this is so cool!” Zeke’s voice trilled out from the black space at the back of the machine, fresh and jubilant and so full of energy it succeeded in shaking the three friends from their terrified state. If Zeke could handle it, how bad could it be?
“Me first!” Todd gave Myra a hard shove and raced towards the ramp. Todd had always maintained that he was the bravest boy in town, and was certainly not willing to risk Myra beating him inside.
“You jerk,” shrieked Myra, hot on his heels.
Bruce was already moving, peeling away from the spot which had held him entranced a moment before and off to the rescue of his foolish little brother.
The ramp made no noise beneath his feet. Bruce felt a light breeze on his back as he walked; cool and fresh, like the wind off the ocean he remembered from a family vacation before Zeke ever came along.
Suddenly inside, Bruce stood blinking like he’d just been startled out of a deep sleep. Everything within the craft was the same pearlescent white as without, and the gentle curve of the room kept its exact dimensions a hazy guess. The floor was lost in this same confusing effect—a thin layer of smoke made firm beneath his feet—never obvious, but always there where it was needed.
There was no smell, and the air no longer had any feeling on Bruce’s skin. Not like the