Archive for the ‘Luc Reid’ Category
Explained: Parents
Thursday, November 12th, 2009
“When I brought home my history test the other day, I thought my dad was going to kill me,” John said.
His friend Sunil just shook his head. “I know, seriously. My stepdad was the same way when he found out I flunked math.”
“He just keeps saying ‘Sixty four! Sixty four!’ like I couldn’t read my own grade–”
“I hate it when they do that.”
“–and he’s practically ripping my head off about it, and I’m like, ‘Give me a break, Dad! There’s more to life than brains!'”
“Whoa, heads up, man! Old Lady Heiserman, twelve o’clock.”
John looked up just in time to see Mrs. Heiserman throw her walker aside and lurch toward him and Sunil. He reached behind him and had to flail around with his hand for few seconds before he could get a grip on the iron pry bar he kept in his backpack, but he got it just in time and walloped Mrs. Heiserman over the head. She must have been hungry, though, because it barely slowed her down. John kicked her in the knee, and she collapsed on the sidewalk, hissing at him. While she was regenerating, he and Sunil ran across the Webers’ lawn and took the back way home.
“Freaking adults, man,”
“I know,” said Sunil.
Back at the house, John’s mom was home from work at the Children’s Hospital and was making coconut baked fish. They tried going through the living room, but she must have heard them.
“Homework! Do your homework!” she moaned, lurching toward them.
“I will, Mom. We’re just going to play Wii in my room for a few minutes, then we’ll get right to it.”
“Homework first!” She lurched toward them, snatching at John’s head. “Brains!”
“Come on, Mom, leave my brains alone,” John said. He and Sunil sprinted into his room and barricaded the door behind them.
“Comb your hair!” his mom groaned.
“Man, I hope when I’m an adult, I don’t turn into such a zombie,” John said.
“Seriously, man,” Sunil said, hooking an open bag of Doritos from the dresser. “Seriously.”
Really Big Presents
Monday, November 9th, 2009
Drood set the huge box on a table in the near-empty cafeteria. His friends Thea and Hector stared at it.
“It’s huge,” Hector said. He turned the tag toward him and read “Franz Evan Hahn-Drood. Hey Drood, your middle name is Evan?”
“You should just give it back,” Thea said. “Why did the creepy toy store man even give you a birthday present? He doesn’t know you.”
“He’s not that creepy,” Drood said. “And don’t you think we should at least see what it is?”
“Oh, he’s creepy,” said Hector. “But we should definitely see what it is. ” He began to peel off the heavy, bronze paper, and Drood joined him.
“You have no idea what’s in there!” said Thea.
“Duh,” said Drood. “Why do you think we’re opening it?”
It turned out to be a shallow box, about three feet long and two feet wide, made of some gleaming reddish material. The top was some kind of door or lid, with a handle set into it.
“Don’t–!” said Thea, but Drood pulled the lid open.
It was like looking through a window. Inside was a sunny forest clearing, in the middle of which sat a squirrel. The squirrel was petrified, being surrounded by at least fifteen cats, and the cats didn’t look any more comfortable than the squirrel: their attention was taken up by a dozen or so little silver-suited green men nearby standing at the entrance to a thrumming and glowing flying saucer. The aliens were preoccupied with several large, boot-shaped robots who were hovering over them, orange eyes glowing.
One of the cats happened to look over and notice the kids. “This just keeps getting weirder,” the cat said. The orange-eyed robots all turned to face the door and began floating toward it. The little green men shouted orders at each other and scrambled around the ship. The squirrel bounded over the cats and fled.
Thea slammed the door shut. She stared, wide-eyed, at Drood and Hector. Drood and Hector stared, wide-eyed, back.
“Oh my god! What was all that?” Thea said.
“I don’t know!” said Drood. “Should we open it again? They might be friendly.”
“No!” Thea said. “What if they’re not friendly? Those aliens or those flying things could go on a rampage. We have to keep it closed! You guard it: we’ll get a teacher.” She grabbed Hector’s arm and ran out, dragging him along.
Drood stared at the box, looked around the empty cafeteria, and stared at the box again.
Then he grinned and opened it wide.