What happens when curious little boys don't heed their mother's warnings. |
My mother always told me not to play with fire, unless she was around to supervise. She had a strange wisdom, my mother, and seemed to know that eleven year old boys would play around with fire regardless of their parent's wishes. I respected her for it. So when Robbie and I found that strange little match book in the gutter on the way home from school, we ran to my house. The matchbook was unlike any we had seen before. It had strange markings, like scrolls or something, on the side. All the words were in some language other than English. But my mother was very smart. She would probably be able to read it. Our little house was on the corner lot. My mother loved to plant flowers, so although the neighborhood houses were small and dingy, our house was colorful and bright. It stood out from the other houses and I was proud that our house appeared nicer than the others. My mother didn't work on Friday afternoons, and was out in the yard with our milieu of animals as we raced up. My father and I sometimes joked that she was a witch and all of our animals were her familiars. She would smile and say that if she was a witch, she would magic us everything we needed and she wouldn't need to work. "Mom, we found these matches and maybe Robbie could stay over and we could build a fire and make s'mores," I said breathlessly as Robbie and I stopped barely in time so as not to knock over her flower pots. "Oh, I suppose so. Give me the match book and run over to ask Robbie's mom if it would be OK." I handed her the matches. She looked at them quizzically and then quickly glanced up. "Where did you get these?" "We found them in the gutter on the way home. See you soon." Robbie and I glanced at each other and ran towards his house. In stark contrast to our house, Robbie's house was probably the worst kept house on the street, at least on the outside. It was painted this awful pea-yellow color. Robbie's mother and father didn't have any house sense and never fixed anything or mowed the lawn. But Robbie's mother made the BEST cookies for after school snack, so we usually stopped by there first on the way home from school. "Mom!" Robbie shouted as we went inside. "Mom, can I stay over at Peter's house?!" She came out of the kitchen just then. Robbie's mom was small and thin and barely spoke above a whisper unless you really made her mad. "You don't have to shout, I'm right here," she said. "Mom, I really want to stay at Peter's house tonight." With mother's intuition - I could never quite figure out how they knew when something was up - she said, "Why, what's so important that you have to go tonight?" Robbie groaned, knowing he would have some explaining to do. Robbie was very good at telling almost the truth and just leaving out the parts that he knew might not be good to tell. "Peter's mom said she would make a fire and we could camp out and roast marshmallows." "Oh," she said. "That sounds like fun. Make sure you pack your warm jammies. It's still a little cold out at night." I played with Robbie's guitar while he packed his stuff. It always seemed to take a long time for Robbie to get ready to go anywhere. I didn't know any tunes or really how to play, but the strums seemed to sound like something I might have heard before. Finally, Robbie was ready with a full, almost bursting backpack and his sleeping bag. "What do you have in there anyway?" "Oh, you know, some star wars guys, clothes, flashlight, pocket knife, a book about stars, rope, stuff like that." "Jeez, Robbie, we're just going to my house, not the moon." He snorted. "A cub scout is always prepared." By the time we got back to my house, my mother had set the tent out on the back porch and instructed us to set it up while she brought some wood over to the fire pit. We searched around the yard for a dry place, but the recent spring rainy season had made everything soggy. "Mom," I said, "I think we are going to need a tarp or something." "OK," she replied, "I have all the wood here, so you guys get the fire ready to start and I'll get the tarp." Both Robbie and I went to cub scouts every Wednesday, and although the fire building badge didn't happen until boy scouts, we had a fairly good idea about how to place the kindling in a teepee shape. "Good job guys," she said as she came out of the garage. "I must have misplaced the matchbook that you gave me, so I brought these matches out for you to use instead." "Oh, Mom," I sighed, "You lose everything. It's a good thing that Dad organizes or you'd lose your own head." She laughed. "I know. I looked right where Dad keeps the matches and there they were, imagine that." We heard the garage door open then, which meant Dad was home. It was a good thing, too, because I was starving. Mom wasn't much of a cook and Dad always made dinner when he got home. Robbie and I spent the rest of the evening feeding the fire, roasting marshmallows, and telling ghost stories, while Mom and Dad sat on the patio watching over us. A few times I glanced over and they waved, but went directly back to their grown-up conversation. Mom had a worried look on her face and Dad kept saying something like "We always knew that something like this had to happen sooner or later." After it was dark, Mom told us it was time for bed, and helped us put out the fire. "You must always be sure to put out a fire completely, or it will fester through the night. I wouldn't want to set the yard on fire." Robbie and I settled in the tent. He pulled out his flashlight and star wars guys. "You wanna play?" he said. "Sure," I replied. "OK, but first I have to go to the bathroom." I stayed in the tent and picked out my guys. I had already decided to propose to Robbie that we play the death star scene where Luke Skywalker learns his father is Darth Vader. "I found them," Robbie said as he came back in. "Found what?" "I found the match book behind the mirror in the bathroom." "Let me see it." Robbie was still standing in the door flap of the tent and a little moonlight fell on the matches as he handed them to me. The letters rearranged themselves and I could read them. "That's strange," I said. "I can read the box now." "It still looks like gibberish to me," Robbie said. "What does it say and why can you read it?" "I don't know... It says GO ANYWHERE MATCHES. WARNING: KNOW WHERE YOU'RE GOING BEFORE USING." "Well, I've heard of go anywhere matches before," Robbie said. "I think it means you can light them in any kind of weather and they won't burn out." He grabbed them from my hand. "Let's try it." "Robbie," I said, "not in the tent! Let's at least go outside." Robbie pushed open the box and pulled out a single match. "Wait," I said with a laugh, "The box said we should know where we are going first." "OK," Robbie said, playing along, "let's go to....hmm... let's go to the creek on the other side of town." He lit the match and purple sparks when everywhere, which blinded me since I had already gotten my night vision. When the sparks died down, it was clear that we weren't in my backyard anymore. We stood in the creek, and little puffs of white floated down from the cottonwoods on the banks. An owl hooted. "Whoa," Robbie said, "these are cool!" He opened the box to take out another match. "Let's go to the moon." "No, you idiot!" I swiped the match out of his hand. "We probably die there without any breathing apparatus. We only have what was on us." We looked at each other for a few moments. I briefly though we were probably dreaming and reached out to pinch Robbie. "Ow!" he said, "Why did you do that?" "Just checking. I have an idea. Let's go back to my house and grab your gear. Then we can talk about where to go next." He nodded and I struck the match. Again, the purple sparks blinded me and when I could see again, we were back in the yard, like nothing had happened. Except two things. Our feet were wet. And my parents were standing right there with their arms folded, not looking very happy. "Peter. David. Shepard." Words that meant I was in trouble. "Give me those matches." I handed them to Mom and she looked at my dad. "Boys," he said, "I think you've had enough excitement for one night. Come inside. You'll be sleeping where we can keep an eye on you for the rest of the night." He grabbed each of us around the back of the neck and we went inside. My mother laid our two sleeping bags on the floor of the living room and pulled out the sofa bed for she and Dad to sleep on. With my parents so close, there really wasn't anything to do but go to sleep. I mean, we couldn't even whisper or anything. And even though my mind was spinning with the whole adventure, eventually my eyes closed themselves and I drifted off. When I woke up, I could hear my parents talking in the kitchen. I thought to delay trouble as long as possible I would just lay there with my eyes closed pretending to sleep. I dared one quick glance at Robbie. I could tell from his face that he had the same idea. "Everything might have been fine, except for Robbie," Dad said. "We are going to have to do something about him." "Well, if were a little further into Spring, I would have the ingredients to make a forget potion," my mother replied. "But as it is, the only thing I can think to do is just tell Robbie, too." "That's a very dangerous proposition. He might not be able to handle the information, and if he tells someone, they will think he has gone crazy, poor boy. They'd lock him away." "He'll only have to know for a month or so, then I can make the potion and he won't remember the past month at all." Robbie started flailing, trying to get out of his sleeping bag. My mother must have heard him because she came in. "You should know that I have locked you both in your sleeping bags. You won't be coming out until you have heard everything that we have to say. Do you understand?" She still had the "you kids are in trouble" tone to her voice so I replied "Yes, ma'am." "Robbie," she demanded. He seemed to give up. "Yes, ma'am. But please don't kill me or turn me into a toad or anything." His face was ash white and he still had a wild look to his eyes. "I'm not going to kill you, although turning you into toad isn't a bad idea." Robbie choked back a scream. "Nora," my father said, "Don't scare the boy like that. It's not going to help." "Peter" my father began, "your mother and I had planned to tell you this when you were twelve, but it seems that events have dictated otherwise." I hated when he used grown up language. "We've tried to lead a quiet life, but it seems that someone might have placed an object in your path which leads us to believe that we haven't gone as unnoticed as we would have liked to believe." Why couldn't he just get to the point? "Your mother isn't exactly like a normal mother, she is what you might call a shaman, which has been passed down through her ancestry. In a week, you will be out of school and we will go on an extended vacation, and will invite you, Robbie, to go with us. Nora, do you think you can put together a convincing potion before then?" My mother nodded. "Good. Now Robbie, do you think you can keep this a secret? You don't want Mrs. Shepard to turn you into a toad." Robbie squeaked again, and my mother elbowed my father. "I'm sorry Robbie, I didn't hear you." "Yes, sir. I can keep this a secret. But you'll take me with you? I don't want to get locked up either." "Yes, son, we'll take you along, just until we can help you forget. Now, you boys are going to do exactly as I say. We are going to let you out of your sleeping bags now. You are going to pack up your stuff while Mother goes to talk to Robbie's parents. You will go about your life for the next week as if none of this had ever happened. You will not speak about it, at school or anywhere else. In one week, we will go on vacation and tell you more about what this all means. Understand?" "Yes, sir," we both said in unison. I risked a peek over at Robbie. He was still pale, but not quite as much before. "Do you trust me?" "Yes, sir," I replied immediately. Then "Yes, sir." whispered Robbie. In fact, over the next week Robbie and I barely spoke at all. He seemed to be avoiding me and often walked with the other kids to and home from school. But on the last day of school, at lunch, he sat next to me. "I'm ready to go," he said. "Your mom told my mom that we are going to Yellowstone for a month. Do you think that's true? I hope I packed the right stuff." "I don't know. My parents haven't said anything to me. Walk home with me today and we'll ask them before we go to your house to get your gear." He nodded. The bell rang and we picked up our lunch trays and headed back to what was supposed to have been best few hours of school. When the bus let us off at our stop, we could see that my parents had already almost packed the truck and the camper. The animals were waiting in their cages in the shady part of the lawn - Mom would never leave her animals behind for a month. Knowing everything I knew now, I guessed they probably were her familiars. Most of the rest of our camping gear, though was already in the back of Dad's truck, and the camper was hooked up to the back. "Well, it looks like we're camping, anyway," I said. "Can't say where yet." We checked in with my parents, who confirmed a trip to Yellowstone. In a way, I was kind of excited for this. Yellowstone was one of my favorite trips. My grandparents had a cabin in Island Park, and we would probably go to see them. My stomach turned, then. Dad had said that my mother's powers or whatever they were had been passed down to her. Did that mean my grandparents, my mother's parents, were also not so normal? I was going to have to contemplate this. Fortunately, I had a long car ride to do it. I looked down the street towards Robbie's house. I could see him walking toward me, pulling his suitcase behind him and carrying a plate of his mother's cookies. I was glad to have someone like Robbie with me. But at the same time, I felt guilty about getting him into all this. Who knew what would happen now? |