Summer of Secrets

Summer of Secrets
(Words: 3544)

PART 1

Sam ambled down the dirt track while his dog, Brandy, bounded in and out of the trees and bushes.  He had tired of throwing sticks for her, so she had found other things to amuse her.  The beleaguered squirrels, however, were not amused.

Slivers of reflected sunlight twinkled off the water, through the trees and sprinkled across Sam's face.  He squinted and could just make out the dainty sailboats and the flashy motorboats.  The lake was pretty cool; his grandma's motorboat was awesome, but his father's sailboat was a lot of work for something that was supposed to be 'relaxing.'  All in all, the town of Lakeview was boring, and Sam wished he could spend the summer back at home with his mom and his friends.  The Divorce Settlement, however, stipulated that he spend his summers and Christmas holidays with his father.  And whatever Divorce Settlement said, went.

"No one ever asks me what I want," Sam mumbled.

"Hey, skid mark!"

"Huh?" Sam looked around.  He was right in front of the Carmine's house, and he hadn't even noticed.  Darn it! he thought, I should've been more careful.  Now I'm in for it. 

Greg Carmine and his posse descended on Sam like flies on road-kill.  They circled him and cut off any avenue of escape.  Greg shook his greasy black hair out of his face and strutted in front of his gang like a proud rooster.  He smirked down on Sam from his greater height.

"Do you know why you're the 'free king'?" Greg asked, then continued, "'Cause you're so freaking stupid!" Greg howled and his echo chamber followed suit.

"Whatsa matter?  Don't cha think that's funny?"  Greg slapped Sam on the back with a blow too hard to be friendly.  Sam's breath started coming in quick gasps.  His father's house was so close, but he had to break through the picket line of enemies.

"Y-you better watch it.  My dog's real mean," Sam said threateningly, but his nervous voice sounded more like a strangled chicken.  He cleared his throat and called: "Brandy!"

The big golden retriever gamboled up to the group.  Then she ruined the killer-dog image as she rolled on the ground, paddled her paws in the air, and displayed her most adorable please-tickle-my-belly expression.

Another round of snickers rippled through the older boys.  Brandy shimmied around in the grass and waved her paws at Sam.  Sam wished he could roll up into a tiny ball and disappear.  He wished he had the courage to stand up for himself, but he was just too scared.

Greg pointed at the dog and said, "Look at your broke-down dog.  That's a YouTube moment!"  The snickers graduated to laughter as the boys watched Brandy's antics.  Sam seized his opportunity.  He squeezed between two whooping boys, and ran his best fifty-yard dash to his father's house. 

Safe! he thought with relief, as the screen door slammed shut, separating him from the bullies.

Sam looked around the house and saw his father working at the computer as usual; so Sam grabbed some cookies from the kitchen and walked down to the basement workroom.  The Man Cave, as his father called it, was filled with tools, boating accessories, dusty extension cords and two old bikes which hung on the wall.  The crown jewel of the collection was Sam's Summer Science Project.  Back at his school, Sam was the first link in the Brain Chain.  He won the Science Fair every year.  His entry for this year was going to be a catapult; but not just any catapult – it was a model of an aircraft carrier's catapult - a giant sling-shot mechanism like they used to hurl planes off a carrier's deck and into the air.

After some tinkering, Sam placed a tennis ball in the cup attached to the spring and pressed the start switch.  The motor whirred as it pulled the cup back until the heavy duty spring was stretched to its limit.  Then Sam hit the release button.  With a snap, the pin released the spring.  The sling-shot crackled with kinetic energy, and the tennis ball shot into space. 

The ball flew across the work table scattering tools -

Crash! 

- and smashed into one of the bike wheels.

Oops.

Sam surveyed the damage.  There were six or seven spokes broken out of the wheel.  This bike's going nowhere fast, he thought, and his shoulders drooped with guilt.

At dinner, Sam decided to come clean and told his father about the little bicycle-spoke mishap.  Sam expected a night without the TV, or a go-clean-your-room punishment.  Instead, he got the dreaded pooper-scooper duty.

After the requisite, "Aw, man!" Sam took the pooper-scooper and dragged the plastic garbage bag of dog-doodies, out into the yard.  He thought as he scooped, You'd think that if a dog lived in the country, it could do its business anywhere.  But, nooo.  Dad wants a clean lawn, like this is some Madison Avenue street corner.  Sheesh.  And pee-ew.  Why can't dogs learn to use the toilet like everyone else?

After Sam finished, he closed up the stinky bag as tightly as he could and put it back at the corner of the house.

The roar of an outboard motor buzzed up from the lake.  Someone was coming.  Sam ran down to the dock and recognized the boat.  It was Grandma, coming from her house across the lake.

Sam grabbed the line when she threw it and tied the boat to the dock. 

"Thank you, Sammy.  Here, take this," Grandma said as she heaved a big bag out of the boat.  Sam strained not to collapse under its weight.  Grandma jumped out of the boat and landed light as a feather.  She was sprightly for her age.

Brandy rushed up to give welcoming slobbery kisses.  Grandma laughed and walked up to the house as Brandy frolicked at her side and Sam staggered behind with the bag.

Inside the house, Sam's dad had a bag of his own, and explained that he had to return to the city on business.  He said he'd come back as soon as he could and that Grandma would stay with Sam in the meantime.  Sam barely had time to absorb the news, then Dad ruffled his hair, kissed Grandma good-bye and went out the front door.

Grandma busied herself in the kitchen and Sam went to the computer to catch up on his emails.  He was a little shy in real life, but on the web, he was a regular textrovert.  When Grandma came out of the kitchen and asked if Sam wanted to play Monopoly or Scrabble, he refused.  The chat room he was in was much more interesting than trying to figure out stuff to say to Grandma. 

Grandma took out her knitting bag and began to knit.  An hour later when she came out of the kitchen bearing popcorn and brownies and asked him to join her for awhile, he still wouldn't budge from the computer. 

"You shouldn't spend your whole life on that thing, Sam."

Grandma took her one of her knitting needles and waved it at the computer.  The ADSL went dead.  Sam tried everything he could think of to reestablish the link, all to no avail.  Great!  Now I have to go and have a nonversation with Grandma.

The evening passed quickly and wasn't as boring as Sam had thought it would be.  Grandma was OK - for a grownup.  They went upstairs when it was time for bed.  He went into his room and Grandma went to the guest bedroom at the end of the hall.  He got into his Transformers PJs and went to sleep.


PART 2


Sam woke up in the middle of the night.  A strange noise floated in through the open window.  As he blinked in the darkness and propped himself on an elbow, the noise became more clear.  Someone was singing a song...or screaming…no…someone was screeching a song. 

That's one u-hu-ugly song, Sam thought.  He got up, rubbed his sleepy eyes and stumbled to the window.

In the Carmine's back yard, Mrs. Carmine was making weird motions as she sang.  Mrs. Carmine was weird to begin with.  She dyed her hair Woody Woodpecker-red, rode a motorcycle, and always wore black.  But the weirdest things were her tattoos; strange images of winged reptiles and fanged devils.  She had them all over.  Everywhere Sam had seen, anyway.

Mrs. Carmine stopped singing and stood stock still.  Sam pressed his face against the screen.  He saw something incredible.  Her tattoos were coming to life!  They crawled over her arms, around her neck and into her hair.  They grew as they crawled.  Then the first of them launched itself from her head into the air.  It looked like a giant bat as it flapped its leathery wings.  A second one followed, then a third.  Soon, there were seven or eight of the things flapping and diving around her head.  As if they heard a secret signal, they flew toward the lake.

Sam ran to his other window which faced the lake.  He saw one of the creatures tear the bird feeder off a tree.  Another two flew to the next dock and shredded the sails of a little catamaran.  Then he saw three of them on his Grandma's boat.  They were ripping up the cushions and throwing the stuffing into the air.  Another untied the boat from the dock and pushed it off.

Suddenly, a great black shadow covered the screen, and Sam was eye to eye with one of them.  Its little claws dug into the screen.  It was a grey gargoyle, with a demonic face and evil yellow eyes.  It hissed at him and he saw a black forked tongue flick out between rows of dangerous looking teeth.

Woh!  That's totally butt-ugly. Sam thought with disgust. 

The horrible gargoyle flew off, but returned an instant later and crashed through the screen into the room.  Sam leaped backwards and fell over a pile of dirty clothes.  The demon flapped around the room.  Sam saw its glowing eyes shine in the darkness.  It swooped at him and he ducked.  It circled around for another pass.  Sam dragged his sheet off his bed and the next time the monster flew past, he threw the sheet over it and trapped it.  The sheet bucked and roiled and Sam could hear the gargoyle as it growled and hissed.

Sam ran down the hall to his grandmother's room.  He threw the door open and shook her awake. 

"Grandma, come quick!  There's a monster in my room!"

"What?  Sammy, you're too old to be scared of monsters under your bed."

"It's not under my bed.  It's under my sheet.  I caught it!"  He dragged her out of bed.  "Come on and see – and there's more of them, too!"

Grandma put on her fluffy pink robe and tucked her feet into her little pink slippers.  "Oh, all right."

When they reached his room, Sam turned on the light. The sheet was crinkled up in a ball, but there was no gargoyle underneath it.  Sam peered around the room.

"Your screen is broken."  Grandma walked across the room for a look.

"Watch out!  It could still be here," Sam warned.

"Nonsense, there's nothing here.  Your father's not going to be happy about – " she was interrupted mid-sentence as the sound of crashing glass startled them both.  The sound came from downstairs. 

"Well, what on earth was that?"  Grandma hurried out the door.  Her robe billowed behind her like Superman's cape; if Superman wore a pink fluffy cape.

"Oh, Grandma, I don't think we should go down there.  Please," Sam pleaded as he followed, "we should call the police." 

Sam had a good idea of what had caused the crash.  But even he was surprised by the sight that met their eyes when they got to the kitchen.

The kitchen window was broken and there were gargoyles everywhere!  They were in the cabinets, on the counter, and in the sink.  They were eating the leftover brownies, pulling cans and jars from shelves and one was hanging from the ceiling light fixture.  Grandma took a no-nonsense attitude, grabbed the kitchen broom and shouted, "Sam!  Open the back door."

Grandma went into battle with a gleam in her eye and the evil creatures fell back before her onslaught.  If they didn't move out the back door quick enough, she whomped them with the broom.  Soon, they were all out.

"Grandma, what are those things?"

"Those are the callings cards of someone who's gotten a little too uppity for her own good.  It's time I put my foot down."  With that odd statement, Grandma walked out the door and through the back yard.  Sam trailed behind, his curiosity outweighing his fear - but only barely.  Dim shapes swooped and swirled through the air above their heads.  Brandy ran in circles around them and snapped at the harassing little flyers that dive-bombed the trio.

Grandma walked right across the back lawn and into the Carmine's yard.

Mrs. Carmine still stood in the center of the yard, and she fixed Sam's grandma with a cold stare.  Brandy yelped as one of the creatures pulled her tail and flew off.

"What do you want?" Mrs. Carmine asked.  Her eyes flashed with the same bile-colored malevolence that Sam had seen in the gargoyles' eyes.

"I insist that you recall your gargoyles immediately," Grandma demanded.

"Or what?"

"Or I will take matters into my own hands."

"And what are your old, palsied hands going to do?  You're too old and senile to run things any more, Doris.  It's time for someone younger and smarter to take over."

"And that would be you."

"That's right, you old bag!  Go back to your knitting."

Mrs. Carmine's insulting words hung in the air.  Grandma clenched her jaw and said to Sam, "Sammy, bring me my knitting bag."

Sammy thought, What? Are you kidding me?  It's 'attack of the killer gargoyles' and you're gonna knit a sweater? 

As he hesitated, his Grandma urged, "Hurry, Sammy.  No time to waste."

Sammy kept his doubts to himself and ran back into the house.  Brandy followed at his heels, and whimpered as the little monsters harried and harassed her.

Inside the house, Brandy hid under the kitchen table as Sam raced to find the knitting bag.

He quickly brought the knitting bag back to Grandma.  She ducked and swatted at the annoying devils as they pulled her silver hair.  Then she reached into her bag and withdrew her knitting needles.  Without any wool that Sam could see, she began to weave the needles in a complicated knitting pattern.

Off the chain! Sam thought.  That's like playing air-guitar, only with knitting needles!

The knitting needles glowed a dim indigo, then a brighter blue, then something began to take shape.  Long strands of a misty substance intertwined to create a giant net.  When it reached several meters in length, the net rose into the air and flew off in pursuit of the gargoyles.  Sam watched in amazement.  Grandma knitted another one, and then another. 

Gargoyles flapped up and down trying to avoid the magical nets, but the nets were faster.  One by one, every gargoyle was captured by a net and pinned to the ground.

Mrs. Carmine screeched in frustration.  She chanted arcane words and her hands glowed the same color as her Kamikaze-red hair.  She pointed at one of the struggling demons.  A bolt of crimson light streaked from her finger and tore the net in two.  The winged creature escaped.  She freed another one, and then another.  All the while, Grandma knitted furiously.  New nets were knitted into existence and the fleeing gargoyles were soon recaptured.  Then Grandma took a deep breath and concentrated.  Her knitting needles clicked rapidly as she wove together one last, giant net.  Sam knew who that one was for.  Crazy Mrs. Carmine.

Grandma called out, "I'm sorry to have to do this, Lillian, but you leave me no choice."  The huge net spun through the air toward Mrs. Carmine.  Just as it dropped over her, Greg, the neighborhood bully, leaped into view and pushed his mother out of the way.  He carried a baseball bat and swung it determinedly as the large net repositioned itself.  He managed to keep the net away from his mother. 

Mrs. Carmine glared at Grandma, and spittle flew from her lips as she said, "You have meddled enough, old woman.  I'm the new Queen of Lakeview!  My magic is stronger than yours, and I'll prove it."

Mrs. Carmine lifted the bottom of her black T-shirt to reveal a pale, trim waist.  A large tattoo of a coiled red dragon was on her stomach.  Its lines began to blur as it shifted around and untwisted itself from her belly.  Red shiny scales gleamed as the dragon slithered around her waist and up to her neck.  It grew in size until it dwarfed her head.  Its mighty wings shook the air as it launched itself toward Grandma.

Grandma said, "Uh-oh."

"Uh-oh?" repeated Sam.  "What do you mean 'Uh-oh'?"

"I mean it's time for you to go inside."  Grandma stood her ground; her knitting needles clickety-clacked.  A new net took form: an orange one.  Sam looked from his Grandma to the approaching dragon, then to the creepy Carmines.  He wanted to run and cower in the house like Brandy, but he couldn't leave his grandma. 

The red dragon stopped its headlong charge and hovered in front of them.  It took a deep breath and then exhaled a long stream of flame.  Sam and Grandma dove out of the way.  They scurried around to dodge the fiery bursts that came from the flying reptile.  Grandma wouldn't give up without a fight; she struggled to finish her new orange net.  Sam scuttled out of the way, but the dragon wasn't after him; it seemed to be focused on Grandma.  Grandma spun and jumped away from the dragon's blazing breath.  No matter where Grandma went, the scarlet monster followed.  It never gave her a chance to complete her web, although she tried valiantly.

Sam started to worry.  How could he help her?  What could he do?

Suddenly the answer to his questions came in a rush.  Of course!  I know what to do!

Sam dashed back to the house.  Quicker than you can say fire-breathing-red-dragon, he was back.  He lugged his catapult, attached by extension cords to the house, out onto the lawn.  Then he grabbed the bag of dog-doodies.  As he opened the bag, the smell of all that concentrated kaka nearly forced him away, but he couldn't give up now.  No time to worry about hygiene, he thought.  In emergencies, you have to do what you have to do! He reached into the bag and brought out a big handful of the stinky stuff.  He loaded it into the cup attached to the spring and turned the switch on.  As soon as the cup reached the end, he pressed the release button.  The pin snapped down, the spring crackled as it rebounded.

Snap – Crackle – Poop!

A ball of dog dooky shot from the catapult and almost hit the dragon.  Sam reloaded.  Mrs. Carmine and Greg started to release the imprisoned gargoyles.  Sam adjusted his aim.

Snap – Crackle – Poop!

A wad of dung hit Greg right in the face!  Sam couldn't stop smiling as he reloaded and drew a bead on Mrs. Carmine.

Snap – Crackle – Poop!

Another bulls-eye, and Mrs. Carmine's bright-red hair turned into turd-brown hair. 

"Yay!" Sam cheered.  It was a regular 'Crap Attack!'  He kept loading and firing at the Carmines, the red dragon, and the few escaped gargoyles.  Catapult-fired feces flew through the air.  It was raining cow pies – or in this case, dog pies.

While the Carmines were busy wiping poop from their faces and spitting it from their mouths, Sam managed to keep the dragon away from his grandma long enough for her to complete her giant orange net.  In a twinkling, the dragon was whisked from the air and deposited in a heap on the ground.  No matter how hard it struggled, it couldn't escape the strange glowing web; it was trapped.

Grandma made one last web; another big orange one.  It soared into the air, scooped up the remaining gargoyles and banked around toward the Carmines.  Sam noticed that the Carmines' eyes were watering from the smell of the dung his catapult had dumped on them.  They're blinded by science! Sam thought.  The amber net plunged towards the Carmines, and they were both caught under it.  They weren't going to be any more trouble.

"Sam, that was quick thinking."  Grandma congratulated Sam with a twinkle in her eye.  "I never thought I'd be grateful to Brandy for her excellent excrement!  Now, you go wash off and wait inside the house for me.  I need to mete out a little punishment."  Grandma proceeded toward her captives.  Sam wanted to see what would happen next.  Without even turning around, Grandma said, "I said back in the house, Sam – Now!"  He heard the threat in her voice, decided he'd seen enough scary things for one night, and scurried into the house.

Much later, when he'd washed up, and Grandma had cleaned up the mess in the kitchen, she made hot cocoa for him.  He couldn't stop himself from asking, "What did you do to them?"

Grandma smiled a mysterious smile and replied, "Well, let's just say that the tattooed lady no longer has any mischief in her tattoos, and no matter how hard they wash, neither of them is going to smell nice for a very long time."

They laughed together and it felt really good.  Sam asked many other questions about gargoyles, dragons, and magic knitting needles, but Grandma brushed his questions aside.  It seemed she wanted to keep her secrets.

That was OK with Sam.  He had the whole rest of the summer to discover the secrets about his grandma and the not-so-boring town of Lakeview.