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CHAPTER 1
“Ow.” he whispered, looking up. Above him, the trees were dark, and there was no sign of anybody there.
He stood, miffed, and then bent over to pick up what had landed on his head - a broken pinecone. Half of its spikes are ripped off.
“Hello?” he called. No one answered. “I guess you’re just a ghost.”
He put the pinecone in his pocket and started walking home, bat over his shoulder. Tossing the ball in his left hand, he decided that he’d be back here tomorrow. Tomorrow night, he thought. Because nighttime is the best time to see ghosts.
And tomorrow night, he wouldn’t wear a t-shirt and shorts. He’d wear his dad’s old coat that he left behind, and he’d ask Ma for it, because it was too cold outside for just a t-shirt and shorts.
He briefly wondered if Ma was worried about where he was, and the answer was easy: of course not!
Even if he was only ten, he could take care of himself well enough. There were kids as young as eight on the streets alone, and they did just fine by themselves. Plus, he had his brothers with him.
Nevermind the fact that they’d already went on and left without him, because Ma had called them back. He’d been too slow to catch up, his legs too short to run faster than the rest of them, but he knew one day he’d be the one that would beat them all in a race.
Cause he was only ten, and he knew ten year olds grow up faster than any other age. Not eleven, or twelve, or even thirteen. One of his brothers - Kenneth - was twelve, and he was already five feet something.
As he walked, he stuffed the baseball into his pocket and took out the pinecone. Still broken. He ran his fingers over the smooth edges, then flipped it over to look at the broken part.
Something rustled behind him and he froze. He dared not to look behind him. It was dark all around, except for a streetlight that flickered on every seven seconds - he’d counted.
His house wasn’t that far away. He ran.
CHAPTER 2
Of course, Ma asked about it.
“Hmm,” she said, hands on her hips. He’d seen enough mothers with hands on their hips to know that she was mad. “Where were you?”
“I um,” he started. The pinecone sat much heavier in his pocket now. He wanted to take it out and throw it on the ground, maybe even step on it too. “I was at Boston Commons.”
She raised an eyebrow in suspicion.
“It’s true! I ain’t lyin’.”
Ma sighed and took her hands off her hips. That was better now, that meant she was less mad than before. She walked away.
Kenneth poked his head out from behind the wall.
“What?” Jeremy asked.
“Were you really tellin’ the truth?” he asked, slinking forward and leaning against the wall on his left. Kenneth walked like he was always sneaking around and ready to steal, but Jeremy’s not sure why. He’d never seen Kenneth actually steal anything.
Out of the eight of them, Wes was the one who stole. And maybe Rowan and Dylan too.
Huh. That was a lot more than he thought it’d be.
That’s okay though. He knew that sometimes stealing was the only way they could get what they wanted. As Ma always said, ‘there’s not enough of it to go around’, whatever ‘it’ was.
“Yeah,” he finally says after thinking for too long. Kenneth gave him a strange look. “You believe me right? I’m old enough to go outside by my own at night. I ain’t just your kid brother anymore.”
Kenneth shrugged and revealed a juicebox his pocket, handing it to Jeremy. He cautiously took it and ripped open the straw.
“Thanks.” he said. He shouldered past Kenneth and into the room. He stopped right before he shut the door. “Kenny?”
“Shut the freakin’ door,” someone groaned from behind Jeremy. He turned around and sees Elias laying on his stomach, a pillow over his head. “C’mon!”
The eight of them switched rooms whenever they felt like it, except for Wes. Wes always stayed in the biggest one at the end of the hall, and he shared it with nobody no matter what.
Dylan and Rowan, being twins, were always in the same room. It was a scramble every night to see who would go where. Jeremy liked the one with the big window on the side the best, because the curtain was missing and he could look out whenever he wanted to.
He didn’t like Elias that much. Whenever any of them had enough freetime to take Jeremy to the arcade, Elias would always tag along just to make it that much harder for him to play anything there.
Which sucked. He’d told Ma about it before but she couldn’t do anything about it, and neither could any of his brothers because they didn’t want to. One thing was sure about the O’Donnell brothers, and it was that if they didn’t have to do it, they probably wouldn’t.
He watched Kenneth’s shadow move from the kitchen to the hallway, still standing in his signature slouch.
“Do you think ghosts are real?” he whispered.
“Don’t be weird,” Kenneth whispered back. “Fake. Fake as hell, dude.”
“How do you know?” he whispered again.
“Um,” Kenneth stopped and chewed his lip, looking around. It looked a whole lot darker in the hallway now. “I just do.”
“Okay,” Jeremy said. He ducked under Kenneth’s arm blocking the open doorway and left to brush his teeth. Elias yelled for him to shut the door.
CHAPTER 3
Ma madethem all lunch the next day for some reason, even though it wasn’t a schoolday. Jeremy was fine with that. He liked the way Ma made food.
She kissed him on the forehead and told him not to cause too much trouble while she was gone, then left for work.
He decided that the first thing he was gonna do was visit Boston Commons again and check the trees. It didn’t matter that he wanted to go at nighttime too. He planned to be outside all day.
There wasn’t anything to do other than be outside, so it wasn’t like he’d mind.
He took his backpack off the hook at the front door and stuffed his lunchbag in, then shrugged it on. Dylan and Rowan sprinted past him right out the door, yelling.
Jeremy left right before 10 AM and took the turn to Boston Commons, walking on the curb of the road with both his arms out for balance.
A car whizzed by with a dog sticking its head out of the back window. He wavered momentarily on the curb, then quickly righted himself.
The Boston Commons park grew closer in the distance. He pushed off of the curb and ran ahead, letting the light wind rush past him. Someone walking a cat waved at him - he grinned and waved back.
He followed the sidewalk back to where he was standing the night before, and looked up at the trees. Still nobody there, just a bunch of leaves.
It occurred to him to take out the pinecone from his pocket. He did, then raised it up to the tree to compare.
Wait, that didn’t make any sense. This was a red maple tree. He knew because Rowan was a tree geek, and Rowan was only a tree geek because he was named after a tree for some dumb reason.
He thought Rowan was a dumb name, but it fit Rowan, because Rowan was as equally dumb as his name.
Maybe he could ask Ma why she named Rowan that. Maybe it’d make the name seem a little less dumb. But until then, that’s how it stayed. Dumb. He wondered what it’d be like being able to choose your own name.
If he could choose his own name, he’d probably pick something cool. Like Skullcutter or Faceblaster. Or he’d name himself after his favorite baseball player, Tom Brewer. Brewer was a bad last name actually. Tom O’Donnell. That was good.
“Are there any ghosts here?” he asked, even though he knew the answer would probably be no. Everyone knew ghosts only came out at night.
Someone grabbed him by the neck and forced him into a headlock, giving him a violent noogie. He screamed and flailed his arms to get free as they laugh.
He recognized the laugh almost immediately - Wes, his second oldest brother, after Lance, and Lance hadn’t been home in years. Wes let go of him and shoved him against the maple tree.
“Whatsup shrimp?” he snorted and crossed his arms. Jeremy noticed Kenneth’s ugly yo-yo hanging out of Wes’ pocket.
“I’m gonna tell Kenny that you took his yo-yo,” he fired back. “Even if it’s ugly, ‘cause you snuck up on me.”
“Wait, no no no, don’t do that. I’ll give you, uh,” Wes took a moment to think and dug through his pockets, searching. The yo-yo still dangled and Jeremy watied patiently. “Here.”
He handed him a silver chain with a flat metal dragon attached to the end of it. Jeremy took it and looked at it closely, inspecting it for any funny business.
“What?” Wes shrugged. “Why would I trick ya?”
Jeremy ‘hmm’ed and nodded.
“Okay. I won’t tell Kenny.”
Wes visibly sighed in relief and messed up his hair with his sweaty hands again, then jogged away. Jeremy watched him go.
He knew telling Kenneth that kinda stuff would always turn sour. Kenneth would get all mad, red-in-the-face kinda mad, and he’d stomp through the house like a colossal giant, not talking to anybody except Ma. Sometimes he didn’t even talk to Ma, and that the scariest part.
That, and the part where Kenneth would try to beat up whoever wronged him. It didn’t matter the fact that he was only twelve, he’d do it anyway, and it was kinda scary seeing all seventy pounds of him hurtling straight at you with his fists balled.
He’d seen it firsthand and his face stung for weeks. Never again.
Wes was much taller, and a lot stronger than Kenneth, but Kenneth was full of enough rage to be a nuisance.
Jeremy sat down on the grass in front of the maple tree and opened his backpack. He took out his sandwich and unwrapped it, settling right there to eat his lunch.
Somewhere up above, the tree rustled.
CHAPTER 4
Afternoon late summer was something to hate. It would be cool and nice in the morning, maybe windy too if he were lucky, and then he’d be hit in the face with a wave of heat afterward.
At least it wasn’t humid - they’d already passed the period of time where stepping outside would leave him instantly wanting a shower.
He decided to take the long way home, and took a few minutes to look at the fish in the pet store. The woman working at the counter asked him if he wanted to buy anything. He turned his pockets inside-out and told her he didn’t have any money, then left.
To his dismay, Ma’s car wasn’t in the driveway yet. He wished he had a watch so he could always know when his Ma would be home. She said it was five-o-something, the something being some number he couldn’t remember.
He knocked on the door and no one answered. Then he tried to twist the knob - it was locked.
Jeremy frowned and scratched the back of his neck. Surely someone would drive by, see a young boy standing by a door, and help him, but it didn’t happen.
Instead, he stepped off the front steps and ran around to the back, looking for the big window. He stuck his fingers under the bottom crack and opened it, hooking a leg over to climb inside.
Thump. He landed in a half-fall on the ground and quickly got up.
Kenneth was rooting through the dresser on the left side of the room, whispering feverishly and anxiously combing a hand through his hair.
“Oh!” he turned when Jeremy cleared his throat. “Didya see my yo-yo anywhere?”
“No Kenny,” he said back. “Maybe you could ask Elias about it. I don’t know why anyone would wanta steal your yo-yo in the first place. It’s ugly.”
Kenneth snorted in response and opened up Jeffrey’s lockbox, which wasn’t really a lockbox, ‘cause the lock had broken off and the only thing Jeffrey kept in it anymore was cigarette butts to bother Ma.
Ma always got on Jeffrey’s case for smoking, but Jeffrey was eighteen, which meant he was allowed to do whatever he wanted.
Jeremy knew he’d never smoke. He followed Ma’s rules as much as he could, and for whatever reason, smoking was one of the things that set Ma off the most.
He left the room and hung his backpack on the hook at the front door. There was a coat rack next to it. A black fedora rested on top, and under it, a dark red, almost brown overcoat.
Usually, the overcoat and fedora would be accompanied by Ma’s scarf and gloves, but she was still at work. He took the coat - it was heavier than he expected, and coarser too.
In his struggle to carry it down, the coat rack toppled. He dropped the overcoat and scrambled to catch the rack before it hit the ground.
He put the rack back up, then jumped and threw the fedora back on top of it. Ma would have his head if she found out he knocked something over. Then, he stuck his arms through the sleeves.
“What are you doin’?”
“Aack!”
Jeremy jumped and clutched the coat tight against his chest. Kenneth was standing in front of him, gaze flicking from him to the coatrack.
“Jeez,” he flapped his arms to wave Kenneth away. “Nothin’, just… leave me alone.”
“Is that Dad’s coat?”
“No!” Jeremy frantically took it off and kicked it across the ground.
“Oh, okay. I’ll tell Ma to help clean up after you then.”
“...Yeah, it is,” He picked up the coat and shook dust off it. “But you can’t tell her! She’d freak.”
“What’s in it for me?” Kenneth asked.
Oh, man. That skunk.
“Um, I’ll tell you where your yo-yo is. Even though it’s ugly.” he quickly added.
“You had it all along?!” Kenneth almost-yelled. Jeremy shook his head.
“No,” he said. “ Wes does. I dunno why, but I saw him with it at the park earlier and he said not to tell you, so I said ‘okay, I won’t tell Kenny’, and then he gave me a dragon keychain that I think he prolly stole.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah,” Jeremy snorted. “Now can you leave me alone?”
CHAPTER 5
It took him a lot longer than he thought to put on the coat. Being small and only ten years old, the coat was too big and heavy on him.
The sleeves hung over his arms and flopped whenever he moved. The ends of the coat, which looked like they were meant to only go to someone’s mid-thigh, reached down to his ankles.
It’s fine, though. He could still walk in it and that was what mattered.
His scuffed black Converse were obscured by the coat, but it made for a quieter escape from the house. Ma still wasn’t home. He was just glad that the coat wasn’t so long that it brushed the ground.
Everything was mostly silent on the way to the Boston Commons red maple tree. Hey, he needed a name for it. Maybe he’d call it the Ghost Tree- no, that was too simple. The Spirit Tree? The Spirit Phone, since he could hear what the ghosts were up to when he was sitting under it?
He’d figure that part out later. Maybe he could even ask the ghosts about it whenever they decided to come out.
Crickets chirped idly as he walked along the curb of the road again. He hopped off and ran toward the tree, then looked up at it.
“Hello?” he said. “Are you there?”
No answer.
“Um,” he paused, not sure what to say. He didn’t really expect the ghost not to say anything back. “I’m alone. You can talk to me, I won’t tell anyone.”
Something lands on his head.
“Ow.” he whispered, looking up. Still nothing there. He crouched and picks it up - another pinecone, this one completely intact. He dug in the nest that was his coat and put it in his pocket with the other pinecone.
“I know you’re up there!”
Jeremy decided that he wouldn’t stand here and be passive anymore, no sirree. He’d take control. He was gonna climb up that tree!
With a steady hand, he gripped the side of the maple, and inched his way upward. The coat made it a gajillion times harder, but he wasn’t a quitter. Plus, he had to see the ghost in real life.
Another pinecone lands on him, this time smacking him right between the eyes. It balanced on his nosebridge for a split second, then bounced to the ground. He’d pick it up later.
And then another. And another. More and more pinecones were coming down, pelting his face with them like rain.
“Okay, okay!” he yelled when one hit his left eye. “Ow! Stop!”
Something grabbed his arm. He looked up. It was a hand.
He screamed.
CHAPTER 6
The hand that grabbed his arm let go, and he tumbled to the ground with the grace of a flightless bird.
Jeremy figured he better lay there for a while, on the grass. It was soft and smelled good, and the coat was warm enough that he didn’t feel chilly.
He felt around and two scattered pinecones that felt mostly unbroken.
“Are you okay?”
He was up like a jackhammer, looking around. Nobody was there. The other nearby trees waved ominously in the wind.
Was it the ghost?
Another pinecone hit his head. He looked up.
“Holy crap,” he whispered. Then, louder- “Holy crap! You’re real!”
The ghost quickly made their way down the tree, then stood by him, hand outstretched. He took it. The ghost hauled him up and stared at his face.
“Hi!” Jeremy said cheerfully. “You don’t look like what I thought at all.”
The ghost was tall, taller than Kenneth he thought, and was holding an armful of pinecones. They were wearing a hat - the kind that he saw explorers wear in magazines, and a brown hunting vest over a red shirt. They had long legs and even longer pants.
The weirdest part was that the ghost’s face and arms were all covered in mud.
“Wow. You look really scary. Are you a ghost? Do you live up there?” he asked all at once.
“I’m not-” The ghost took a moment to think, still holding the pinecones. “I’m not a ghost. I’m just a boy. And I don’t know. Maybe I live up there, but if I did, I wouldn’t tell you. You’d make fun of me.”
Jeremy’s eyes widened. What kind of boy lives in trees?
“Are you sure you’re a boy and not a ghost?” he asked again.
“Who said ghosts can’t be boys too?” the boy asked. Or the ghost asked. Both. Or none. He didn’t really know at this point.
The boy-ghost poked his arm with his free hand. Jeremy gasped and stepped backward.
“Is that enough proof that I’m not a ghost?”
Jeremy nodded.
“Okay,” he said slowly. “I believe you. Are you the one who threw the pinecones at me last night?”
A defensive squint from the boy silently told him that his question wasn’t going to be answered.
“You look kinda like a hunter. Or the type of people who look for rare animals.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! I hear one of my brothers- I got seven of ‘em- talkin’ about how when he grows up, he wants to hunt for rare animals. He said, I remember exactly- he said ‘I wanta go down under one day to look for lions and cougars’.” he said.
The boy raised his eyebrows.
“And then I said back: ‘you just wanta show off so that way Ma won’t get so mad at you all the time’ and he said back ‘eff off, shrimp’, only he actually said the f-word, and I’m not gonna say that. I don’t even know what ‘down under’ is. I think he just made it up.”
“Oh! I know what down under is. It’s Australia.” the boy grinned.
“I don’t believe you,” Jeremy scoffed. “I think you’re just making that place up to scare me.”
“It’s true.”
“How do you know?”
The boy didn’t answer.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought! What’s your name? Mine’s Jeremy.”
“Is it really Jeremy?” the boy asked, not telling his name.
“Uhh, yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“I don’t know,” Some of the pinecones fell out of his arms as he faltered. “You kinda looked like a girl.”
“Oh. Well I’m not. I have short hair and a boy’s name, so I’m a boy, okay?” he said, kind of annoyed. He ran a hand through his hair to make sure that it was actually short and that his brain didn’t just make it up.
“Okay, sorry. I didn’t know.”
“So what’s your name?” he asked again.
“I don’t wanta tell you.”
“I’ll make one up for you then, ‘since you don’t wanta tell me for some reason,” Jeremy thought for a moment, leaning against the red maple tree. “Sniper. ‘Cause for some reason you can always hit me with your pinecones, even though you’re probably all scunched up in your tree.”
“...What’s scunched mean?” Sniper asked. “And I guess that name works. I think I’m a good shot, but I’ve never held a gun before.”
“I don’t know what scunched means. I just made it up ‘cause it sounded funny.”
“That’s fair.”
“Why do you sound like that?” he asked.
“Like what?”
“Like,” Jeremy tried his best to imitate Sniper’s voice. “That.”
“It’s like an axe. An. Hold on, I can’t remember,” Sniper trailed off, mumbling. “Accent. How people sound different because of where they’re from.”
“Then how come I don’t have one?”
“Yes you do.”
“No I don’t.”
“You do! You sound so weird when you talk, it’s like your mouth is half-glued shut with taffy.”
“Liar,” he spat. “This is just like how you made up Australia.”
“I didn’t make up Australia. It’s real.”
“You can keep saying that, but I won’t believe you pally.”
They were silent for a while. Jeremy sat down in the grass, winding his fingers through the grass. Sniper sat too, with his knees close to his chest.
“What’s that?” he asked, pointing at something sticking out of Sniper’s pocket. Sniper looked down and shifted so that it was out of sight. “C’mon, I wanta know.”
Sniper sighed and slid it out of his pocket. It was shiny red.
“Wow! Is that a real Swiss Army knife?”
He held the knife in one hand, and, abandoning the pile of pinecones stacked on his arm, unfolded the many blades with his other. They were all sharp and new-looking.
“Yeah. I got it for my birthday a long time ago. Look at this.” Sniper said proudly. He brandished one of the blades and sliced cleanly through a green maple leaf.
“That’s so cool, how’s it stay sharp?”
“I got a whetstone with it too,” Sniper smiled. “Do ya know what a whetstone is?”
Jeremy shook his head.
“It’s something grown-ups use to sharpen their knives. Here,” He took out a rectangular stone from his pocket. “All you have to do is scrape the knife on the rock and it gets sharper.”
“Oh,” he said. “Like magic!”
“Not like magic. Magic’s not real.” Sniper snorted.
“Yeah, well, neither is Australia.” Jeremy shot back.
“Stop talking about Australia!” Sniper yelled.
“...Sorry. How old are you? I’m ten. You’re taller than one of my brothers.”
Sniper looked like he was deep in thought. Jeremy briefly wondered if Sniper even knew how old he was, but that was dumb. What kind of person didn’t know how old they were?
“I’m twelve. I’m almost a teenager.” Sniper answered.
“Really?” He raised an eyebrow. “But you’re-”
A weird look made its way onto Sniper’s face. It took Jeremy a second too long to realize that it was panic, and before he knew it, Sniper was climbing his way back up the tree, shoes kicking behind him.
CHAPTER 6
“What’re you doing out so late?”
He turned around. Dylan and Rowan stood over him, hands behind their backs. Dylan was still wearing his stupid detective hat.
“Yeah, what’s the deal?”
The two of them sounded alike enough that he didn’t bother making out who was saying what. Instead, he stood up, praying that it was dark enough that they couldn’t tell he was wearing dad’s coat.
“Wait, woah, is that dad’s coat?!”
Heck.
“Don’t tell Ma!” he yelled. Dylan snickered and Rowan laughed. “Please?”
“You’re lucky she went straight to bed after coming home from work,” one of them said. “She didn’t even look twice at the coatrack.”
“Ohh.” said the other. “That’s why it looked so weird. Fuck , I shoulda known! Then we could’ve ratted on you earlier.”
Jeremy rolled his eyes and got up.
“Oh my god.” one said.
“What?” he asked. “What’s wrong?”
“There’s a grass stain on the back!”
They gasped, and so did Jeremy. This was bad. Oh no. This was bad enough that it warranted a swear word.
“Dammit!” he yelled, holding his head in his hands. “What am I gonna do? Please don’t tell Ma.”
“We’re just jokin’.” Dylan snorted.
“Y-yeah, don’t take everythin’ so seriously all the time, ‘kay?” Rowan echoed. “You look real dumb when you do.”
“Whatever,” Jeremy spat on the ground. “I’m gettin’ outta here.”
He pushed past the twins and ran home.
CHAPTER 7
“Ma, can I have an extra sandwich in my lunch today?” he asked. Ma was leaning against the kitchen counter, moving quickly to arrange eight sandwiches in line.
She raised an eyebrow and looked at him as if to say ‘how come’.
“I dunno,” he said, shrugging. “I just want it.”
“Alright,” she replied, not questioning it further. “But you better eat it all, then. A kid needs food to grow up.”
He nodded. She put two sandwiches in the paper bag and handed it to him. He took it from her and put it in his backpack, then bolted out the door to Boston Commons.
Oh, shoot. He forgot to ask Sniper what he wanted to call his tree!
Whatever, wasn’t a big deal. He could just ask him today, and he didn’t even have to wear his dad’s coat there, because he was visiting the tree in the daytime instead of at night.
Halfway there, he switched from running to skipping, feeling lighter than air. Sometimes he wondered why he needed gravity.
The tree grew closer in the distance, and he finally arrived. He looked up to see if Sniper was up there, but didn’t see anyone.
“Helloo! Hey?” he called, cupping his hands around his mouth. “Snipes?”
Sniper’s face appeared from the leaves. He reached a hand out and waved vaguely upward. Jeremy screwed up his face in confusion.
“What?”
Sniper mouthed something that he couldn’t make it, still motioning up.
“You want me to climb up there?”
Sniper visibly sighed, then nodded.
He double-checked to make sure his backpack was on tightly, then starting inching his way up in a frog-hold. When he reached the first branch, he pushed off, and grabbed hold of it before he fell.
For a few moments, the branch swayed. He froze thinking it was about to break - but it held solid. He pulled himself up and hoped no one saw that.
Not that they’d pay him any mind, boys climbed trees at Boston Commons all the time.
“Hey,” Sniper said, peeking out from the upper branches. “Do you need help?”
“Pfft, no, I uh-” Jeremy struggled to get his right leg onto the main intersection of branches. “...maybe.”
“Okay. I won’t make fun of you.”
Sniper reached both arms out and let Jeremy grab on. Then, he pulled him up, gritting his teeth.
“Thanks,” he said. “Do you live in this tree?”
“You already asked me that. Last night.” Sniper frowned.
“I know. I thought maybe you mighta changed your mind about not telling me,” Jeremy said, whistling. “So do you live here?”
“...Yeah. But don’t laugh at me.”
“Why would I laugh at that?” he asked. “I think livin’ in trees is really cool. I wanta live in a tree now. It’s nice up here because nobody will bother ya.”
“Not true.”
“Huh?”
“Some weird short Boston ten year old might bother you.”
“Oh,” Jeremy said. “ Ohhh! You’re- you’re makin’ fun of me!”
“Uh-huh. I am.”
“I didn’t uh, realise at first. But now I do. Now I know that you’re um, making fun of-”
“If bothers you I won’t make fun of you anymore.” Sniper said.
“No! No it’s-” He was thinking faster than he could talk. “It’s… fine. I don’t care about it.”
“Really?” Sniper squinted to make sure.
“Yeah. I don’t care, I swear.”
The two of them sat on the top branches in silence for a bit.
“So!” Jeremy piped up again, clapping his hands. “Do you want lunch? I asked my mom to pack me extra.”
“You told your mum about me?” Sniper asked, eyes widened.
“No…?”
“Oh, okay. Then sure.”
He took off his backpack and opened it, pulling out the paper bag. Carefully balancing the bag between his legs, he handed one of the sandwiches to Sniper, who instantly ripped off the foil and tore through it. Jeremy watched him eat, slightly weirded out.
“Um,” he said. “Okay.”
“What?” Sniper asked between a mouthful of sandwich.
“Why’d you eat so fast?”
“I don’t really get sandwiches a lot.” he answered quietly. The sandwich was already completely finished.
“That’s sad. I really like sandwiches,” Jeremy leaned back against one of the branches. Sniper flattened the foil and started folding it into someting. “Do you want me to bring you one tomrrow too?”
He briefly considered asking Sniper if he ever did eat, but decided that it sounded kinda mean.
“Yes,” Sniper said quickly, nodding. “And I really am twelve.”
“What?”
“You asked yesterday-” he stopped talking and thought for a minute. “Before those guys showed up.”
“Those were my brothers, Dylan ‘n Rowan.”
“They were kind of mean to you, don’t you think?”
Jeremy took another bite of his sandwich and chewed.
“Yeah,” he said. “But that’s what all brothers are like. Don’t you have any?”
Sniper shook his head.
“You’re lucky. All my brothers are mean to me sometimes. Maybe you can have me as a brother!”
“Really?” Sniper asked. It was clear he was intrigued by the idea. “And you won’t be mean to me like your brothers?”
“I dunno,” Jeremy put a finger on his chin to think. “We can make fun of each other. It’s not like being actually mean, like swearing at each other or something.”
“Okay. I think that’d be alright, then.”
CHAPTER 8
Jeremy pulled the sheets up to his chin and looked up at the ceiling, trying to fall asleep.
He knew that after school the next day, he would visit Sniper and his tree again. And- oh no. He forgot to ask what name to give to the tree again! He’d talk to Sniper about it tomorrow.
Sniper was weird, but it wasn’t really a big deal. Ma told him that all kids were weird, and he knew firsthand too. Sometimes kids in his class would spend the entire hour of recess sitting in the grass and following bugs. He’d much rather try to climb up the slides the wrong way.
He was sleeping in the big-window room again, Kenneth in the bed next to him, snoring. Out of all his brothers, Kenneth was the one who snored the loudest, even though he was only twelve.
After what felt like ages laying there, he heard a bird start calling from the window. He ignored it at first, until it got louder.
Then a rock hit the window. It made a sharp thwack noise. And another.
He rocketed out of bed and looked out the window, cupping his hands around his face. The bird called again. He opened the window and stepped outside, instantly wishing he had a coat.
He looked down and noticed that the rocks thrown at the window were not in fact rocks, but actually pinecones.
“Snipes?” he called.
He followed the bird noises until they got loud, then looked around. Someone grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him away.
“Jay!” Sniper exclaimed. Jeremy could barely see his face in the dark, but he could hear the smile in his voice. The two of them crouched down in the grass.
“Were you making the bird noises?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Sniper grinned. “They’re easy to learn. That was a bluejay. They’re really loud.”
“Was that why you called me ‘jay’? Or is it ‘cause the first letter of my name’s J?”
“Uh-huh. You called me Snipes, so I thought you needed a nickname too, and I only really know a lot about birds.”
“Oh.” he said. There was a moment of silence between them where both of them wanted to say something but were too nervous. Which was weird, because usually Jeremy wasn’t ever too nervous.
“Here, follow me.” Sniper turned and waved for Jeremy to come with him.
“Where we goin’?” he asked, skipping behind Sniper.
“Goin’ shopping.” Sniper said.
CHAPTER 9
“This sounds kinda like stealing.”
Sniper shook his head and lifted the lid off a trashcan.
“And also kinda against the rules.”
“It’s fine,” Sniper shrugged, uncaring. “When you throw stuff away, it means you don’t need it anymore, right?”
Jeremy thought for a moment, watching Sniper dig through the trash.
“I mean… I guess . Now move over,” he said. “I wanta help too.”
Sniper shifted so that there was enough space for Jeremy to stick his hands in too. He did, then immediately grimaced.
“How are you doin’ this without gloves?”
“It’s the same as pulling weeds or finding worms,” Sniper said while whistling. “Just do it. You can wash your hands when you get home.”
“Well,” He stood there for a moment. “Okay.”
They moved onto the next house, not finding anything at the last one. Jeremy shivered when a breeze came their way.
“Are you cold?” Sniper asked.
“Yeah, but- it’s fine. I can handle it, I’m old enough.”
Sniper frowned and shook his head, then wiped his hands on his pants. He took his brown hunting vest off and draped it over Jeremy, urging him to stick his hands through the armholes. He did.
It was too big on him, but not as big as his dad’s coat. And it was warm enough, he thought.
“Aren’tcha gonna be cold though?”
“Nah. I’ve been to lots of cold places before,” Sniper answered. “And I can handle it, I’m old enough-” He said that part in a singsong tone, echoing Jeremy. “Besides, what’s a brother for?”
The two moved on wordlessly.
“Hey, look!” Jeremy whisper-yelled, pointing ahead. In the dim, flickering streetlight, a kid’s scooter sat leaned against a trashcan.
He ran ahead and took it by the handlebars, rolling it experimentally. Every time the front wheel completed a rotation, it would click alarmingly.
“Huh,” Sniper mumbled. “Why would anyone want to throw that out?”
“I dunno. Maybe their kid outgrew it.”
“I guess. Give it here.”
He handed it over - Sniper inspected it, running his hands along the metal and turning the wheels with his own fingers.
As they walk, Sniper rolling the scooter along, his eyelids got heavier and heavier. Eventually, he tripped over his own feet, causing Sniper to stop and catch him.
“M’ tired, Snipes.” he said.
The last thing he remembered is being scooped up like a pile of pinecones and his head landing on his pillow.
CHAPTER 10
The next day, during the one hour recess, he easily clambered over the fence and landed in a roll on the other side.
Both of the recess monitors didn’t notice him, and even if they did, he knew they wouldn’t do anything about it - it’d happened before, when a group of kids would climb over the fence and go home, not even attending the rest of the schoolday. They didn’t care.
He sprinted to Boston Commons. Almost on cue, Sniper waved to him from the top of his tree, silently asking for him to climb up.
The extra sandwich was given to Sniper. He ate it lightning speed again.
“Heya!” he grinned, curling up on the branch. “What’dja do with the scooter from last night?”
“I took it to the mechman.” Sniper said. He didn’t elaborate on what ‘the mechman’ meant.
“Soo… what’s the mechman?”
“He’s just a guy. He’s a grown-up. I don’t know if he wants to meet you yet, but he’s good at fixing things. And he lives far away.”
“Oh,” Jeremy nodded, understanding. “Ma tells me that my dad was real good at fixing things too.”
“What do you mean, ‘was’?”
He chewed his lip. He hadn’t meant for that to slip out - sometimes he talked faster than his brain could keep up, and vice versa.
“I dunno. I haven’t seen my dad, ever ,” he said quietly. “Ma tells me that he’s busy out doin’ work, but sometimes my brothers say that he up ‘n died, or he just didn’t wanta stick around to see me.”
Sniper went silent.
“But, duh, I don’t actually believe ‘em - no dad would ever leave his kid alone, ‘specially a kid like me. I’m extraordinary, Ma says.”
He shifted in his spot, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden.
“And- and I know my brothers are just tryna get on my nerves.”
“Yeah,” Sniper said. “That’s alright though. I haven’t really seen my mum and dad in a while.”
“How come?” Jeremy asked, even though he knew that was probably kinda mean.
“We lived on a farm.” Sniper started, talking slow.
“Ya-huh?”
“Uh-huh. And I guess one year our farm wasn’t making enough money, so some people came and told mum and dad that we were going to be kicked out,” he mumbled. Jeremy strained to hear him. “So they made me take a plane to here.”
“By yourself?” Jeremy’s eyes widened.
“By myself.”
“That’s so cool- I mean, that’s-” He stumbled over what to say.
“No, it’s okay. It was a year ago. I’m fine now.”
“Well, can you tell me about flying on a plane by yourself then?” he asked. Sniper nodded.
“The woman told me I could take my shoes off during the flight,” Sniper said, a faint smile on his face. “And they gave me a book to read, then I fell asleep before I could finish reading it, then they told me to get off because I was already here.”
“Wow.” he gasped.
“Yeah,” Sniper said back. “It was pretty okay.”
The end-of-recess bell rang. Jeremy shimmied down the tree.
CHAPTER 11
Sniper told Jeremy that he needed to work on his staying awake skills, and Jeremy had nodded vigorously. That was gonna be his mission goal from now on.
Everyday after going ‘shopping’, they would always return to the big window room. Wes had asked him why he kept sleeping in that room, to which Jeremy would just tell him that he really like looking out the big window, which was true.
And Sniper had finally got enough money selling the stuff they got from shopping to buy himself a watch. That meant that everytime Jeremy would scramble back inside, he’d tell him the time.
It got later everyday they were outside. One time, he said ‘1:49’, and Jeremy was so excited he swore he didn’t sleep a wink.
He kept bothering Sniper about meeting The Mechaman, and everyday, Sniper would tell him no.
“Have you ever tried coffee, Jay?” Sniper asked.
Jeremy shook his head while holding a llama trinket.
“You’re in for a treat.” was all Sniper said. He grabbed his arm and dragged him along, leading away from the neighborhoods. Instead, they came to the four-way traffic lights.
“Hey, that’s where Ma works!” Jeremy smiled, pointing at the cafe.
“Really? Is she working there right now?” Sniper asked. There was alarm in his eyes.
“No, only from nine-to-five.”
“Oh, alright. I only ever come here at night,” he said. Sniper crossed the street with him, then pushed open the door.
The lady at the counter obviously recognized Sniper, and cheerfully said ‘hello!’ to him. Sniper sat on one of the stools at the counter. Jeremy copied him. The stools made him feel tall.
The lady raised her eyebrows like exclamation points.
“You look helluva lot like Judy’s youngest kid.”
“H-he’s not,” Sniper said quickly, politely clasping his hands together and setting them on the counter. “His name’s Robin.”
She nodded and ‘hmm’-ed.
“Alright. Nice to meet you, Robin. Would you like a lollipop?”
“Yes.” he said, also politely clasping his hands together and setting them on the counter. Jeez, his hands were really small compared to Sniper’s.
He shrugged when the lady asked him what flavor he wanted and took the yellow lollipop she gave him. Sniper asked her for two coffees, though his words sounded more like mumbles to Jeremy. She left to go make them.
“You lied to her!” Jeremy whisper-yelled, eyes wide with wonder.
“I did,” Sniper whispered back. “What’s the big deal?”
“I don’t know. I don’t lie to grown-ups that much.”
For some reason, Sniper giggled at that.
The lady came back holding their coffees, both in styrofoam-white cups. She gave them both to Sniper - Sniper pushed one cup over to him. He looked down into it. It was brown, like chocolate milk, and steam rose from it.
It did not, however, taste like chocolate milk.
“Wait, don’t-” Sniper started. It was too late. Jeremy already spat it out, gulping in air. His tongue burned.
The lady behind the counter hid a snort.
“That tastes so bad,” he hissed. “Why would anyone wanta drink that? It’s awful.”
“I like it.” Sniper said, and then made a big show of sipping from his cup.
“Ew.” Jeremy wrinkled his nose.
“If you want, you can put sugar in it.”
Even after three sugar packets and asking the lady for milk in his coffee, it still tasted pretty bad. He still drank it all - Ma taught him not to waste food, even if coffee barely tasted like it.
Sniper took his time finishing his coffee, even if Jeremy was nagging him to hurry up. Finally, he got up from the stool, and they left.
“What’s the time?” he asked, one leg through the window.
“Three twenty-two.”
He had a harder time sleeping that night.
CHAPTER 12
He was almost for school the next day, and Ma told him to stop reading under the covers when he was supposed to be sleeping. That made no sense though, because reading was never something Jeremy liked doing a whole lot of.
He wasn’t really lying to her. He was just not telling her anything. That was a lot different than lying.
Sniper’s signal that he was outside was the same bluejay birdcall, and if Jeremy didn’t come out soon enough, then he would start throwing pinecones like the first night. This night, though, the birdcall sounded too close to the window.
The window opened before he could say anything.
Sniper let himself inside, then closed the window as quietly as he could. It shut with a little click.
Jeremy held a finger to his lips to tell Sniper to be quiet. Kenneth was snoring away.
They tiptoed past Kenneth and Sniper swung open the bedroom door. The hallway was dark, as expected. Sniper followed Jeremy to the living room.
He turned on the television and lowered the volume down. There wasn’t anything on except black-and-white cartoon reruns, but the sound was still comforting in the silence.
Sniper took a quick trip to the kitchen and came back holding the plastic container where Ma kept the cookies. Jeremy gasped. Setting the container down, Sniper dashed back to the kitchen to get one more thing - the box of deli meat. He peeled it open.
He hadn’t brought any bread or lettuce with him, so the two of them sat on the couch with their feet up, eating deli meat by itself.
It felt weird breaking all the rules Ma had told him over a hundred times before, but it was also fun.
Sniper showed him his Swiss Army knife again and let him hold it. Jeremy showed him all his baseballs and the special baseball bat that Ma told him was from his dad.
“Can I tell you a secret Jay?” Sniper asked out of nowhere.
Jeremy nodded, munching on one of the cookies and revelling in his fortune.
“I miss my parents,” he said. “I get really sad thinking about them, so I don’t talk about them a lot.”
“That’s okay. I would miss Ma too if I hadn’t seen her in a year.”
He took a cookie from the plastic container and handed it to Sniper. Sniper accepted it.
The hallway light turned on. A thousand thoughts rushed into Jeremy’s head and were instantly gone when Sniper shook him by the shoulders and ducked under the coffee table.
Ma stood there in her nightdress, looking at him confused. She leaned against the doorway and surveyed the living room.
He surveyed the living room too. The plastic cookie container was still on the couch, but Sniper had taken the deli meat package with him under the table.
“Um,” he said. “Hi Ma.”
He could hear Sniper struggling to hold in laughter and prayed for him to be quiet.
“It’s eleven. Why are you still awake honey?” she asked, walking closer. “And eating cookies no less.” She picked up the plastic cookie container and looked at the crumbs scattered on the floorboards.
“Sorry Ma. I couldn’t sleep.” he said.
Ma sighed and stepped backward.
“Go to sleep soon. You have school tomorrow.” she said, turning to put the cookies on the kitchen counter.
“Kids these days,” she muttered and walked away.
He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and let his muscles relax. Sniper crawled out from under the coffee table, still holding the deli meat package.
“Why are you laughin’?” he whispered. Sniper giggled louder and got back up on the couch.
“I don’t know. I just didn’t think your mum would look like that.”
“What’s that supposedta mean?” Jeremy asked, all defensive-like.
“I didn’t mean in a bad way! Ow, don’t pinch me-” Sniper started eating another piece of ham. “I just thought she’d look scarier.”
“Well sor-ree for having such a nice mom.” He rolled his eyes. “Where you goin’?”
Sniper got up from the couch and walked to the big-window bedroom, then came out holding something.
“What’s this?” Sniper asked.
Jeremy felt his face redden in embarrassment.
“Nail polish, but what’s it to you?” he hissed.
“Wow,” Sniper muttered. “You didn’t need to get so mad. What’s wrong with it?”
“Everyone knows it’s a girl-only thing. For some reason Ma gave it to me last birthday. She wears nail polish. I don’t.” he grumbled.
“What if I wanta wear it, then?” Sniper asked.
“What, are you a girl?”
“Maybe I am. Does it bother you?”
Jeremy thought for a moment.
“No,” he said. “I don’t care what you are.”
Sniper only hummed and uncapped the nail polish. It was black. He remembered what Ma had said about it - black was the best color for nail polish, because it went with everything.
Instead of watching Sniper paint his nails, he focused his attention on the television instead, and watched cartoons he’d already seen many times over.
“Hey.”
Sniper poked his arm.
“Jay. Look.”
He turned away from the cartoons and looked at Sniper’s left hand, the nails all painted. It didn’t look half-bad.
“Can you help me do my other hand?”
“Why?” he asked. “I don’t know how to paint nails.”
“I can only do it with my right hand, not my left.”
“What if it looks bad?”
Sniper handed the nail polish over to him. Jeremy caught it before it spilled onto the couch.
“I mean,” he mumbled. “If you’re sure.”
He dipped the brush in the polish and motioned for Sniper to rest his right hand on his leg.
When he finished, he capped the nail polish and set it on the table. The television was still going. Sniper lifted his arm to inspect it.
“It looks okay I think,” Jeremy said. “Sorry if it’s bad. I’ve never painted someone’s nails before. Also your hands smell like ham.”
“No, it’s fine. It looks nice. Thanks Jay. And I know.”
Jeremy sprang up from the couch.
“I’m goin’ to sleep. I’m tired.” Sniper followed him and climbed out the window. “G’night.”
CHAPTER 13
Sniper finally agreed to let him see The Mechaman.
It was almost fall now, and he could see tinges of red on the trees at Boston Commons, Sniper’s tree included.
“So who is he?” Jeremy asked. A breeze blew their way. He shivered and zipped up his jacket a little tighter.
“He’s The Mechaman,” was all Sniper would say every time. “I already told you.”
Even in the colder weather, Sniper still wore his brown hunting vest over his red shirt, his hat flapping in the wind. Jeremy had offered to lend Sniper his own clothes, but Sniper only replied with the fact that they’d be too small on him.
“Well, what’s he do then?”
“Fixes things.”
He’d already told Ma he’d be late coming home from school and to not worry about him. He was ten, old enough to take care of himself.
“Are we there yet?” he asked.
Sniper shushed him and sprinted ahead. He ran after him, following close behind. They came to a bright yellow sign that said ‘DEAD END’ on it.
“Here.”
He led Jeremy to the end of the street, which was a cul-de-sac that had no houses on it. It would’ve been scary if he were here by himself. Sniper moved to the house right before the cul-de-sac and knocked on the door.
It swung open. A man with shiny goggles and a shinier hardhat stepped out, saw Sniper, then grinned. The buckles on his overalls jangled when he moved.
“Is that The Mechaman?” he whispered, eyes wide.
“Now who’s this kid you brought with ya?” said the man. “And yeah, guess you could call me that.”
“Uh-huh,” Sniper nodded. “This is my friend Jeremy. He’s ten.”
“Hiya Jeremy,” The Mechaman kneeled so that he was eye-height with him. “You can call me Dell.”
“Hi mister Dell!” he smiled.
Dell sounded like people in cowboy movies, where they rode horses and shot guns and drank beer - but Dell didn’t seem like the type of person to ride horses and shoot guns and drink beer.
“You don’t have to say the ‘mister’ part, kid.” Dell chuckled. Jeremy nodded vigorously and followed him into the house.
‘House’ was the best word that he could come up with. It was more of a shack than anything, but it felt mean to call it that. A brick here, a cinder block there.
The inside was larger than it looked. A pile of two-by-fours was stacked in the corner. A couch and too-high coffee table sat in the middle. A hammock hung from the ceiling and a door that he assumed led to the bathroom was on the wall opposite it.
“It ain’t much, but…” Dell sat down on the couch and beckoned for them to sit down with him.
“Are you kiddin’ me?” he said. “This is great. Now I can hang out with Snipes without worryin’ about Ma catchin’ me.”
“...Your mother does know where you are, right?” Dell asked.
“Uh, well,” Sniper scratched the back of his neck. “She does. Right, Jeremy?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Of course she does,” Jeremy looked behind the two-by-four stack and noticed a bunch of metal scattered on a table. “What’s that?”
“It’s where I fix things. Toasters, chairs, scooters , the like.”
“Is that your job?”
“Not exactly. I’m an engineer. That means I solve problems.”
Jeremy didn’t really understand, but he decided not to poke more about it. Sniper sat on the arm of the couch and crossed his arms.
“I used to go here when it was too cold in the winter,” Sniper said. “Do you want a soda?”
“I dunno,” He thought for a moment. “Ma says I’m not allowed any.”
“Hm.” Sniper said.
“Let the kid have some.” Dell muttered. Sniper opened the door, and to Jeremy’s suprise, behind it was not a bathroom but a pantry! He ran forward to get a closer look.
Most of the shelves were full of different types of cereals, and one shelf was just beef jerky sealed in plastic bags. Sniper opened the minifridge on the bottom and pulled out two cans.
“Do you want a Sprite or a Coca-Cola?” Sniper asked. Jeremy grabbed the Coca-Cola out of Sniper’s hands and was about to open it when Dell stopped him.
“Hey, no-” Dell said, getting up from the couch. “Didn’tcha hear about what they put in those things?”
“Huh?” He raised his eyebrows.
“Not good for you. Ten year olds don’t get hard drugs.” Dell took the Coca-Cola out of his hands and put it back in the minifridge.
“Then why do ya have it?”
“I get all kindsa people visiting me here. Sometimes they want something a ‘lil extra.” Dell sighed.
“Oh,” Jeremy said. “Can we share the Sprite?”
Sniper nodded and shut the minifridge door, then handed the soda can to him. He pulled on the tab and grit his teeth.
“Do you need help?” Sniper asked.
Jeremy shook his head and tried again. Sniper laughed.
“Don’t make funna me!” he yelled, and gave the can to Sniper. Sniper shook with laughter and easily opened it. He drank some.
“Hey, stop-” He poked Sniper on the arm. “I want some too.”
“Nuh-uh,” Sniper said. “I opened it so I get more.”
“You’re taking way too much!”
Sniper stopped and reluctantly forked it over when Dell shot both of them a look. He tapped his foot while Jeremy drank.
“Wait, I still want some.” Sniper said. He dove for the can - Jeremy ducked away and hunched over.
“Oh yeah?” he taunted. Sniper snatched the soda right out of his hands and held above his head, too high for him to reach. “Unfair!”
Jeremy tackled Sniper to the ground and made a grab for it. The soda slipped out of his grip and crashed to the floor, spilling everywhere.
“Oh no.” Sniper said.
“Oh no.” Jeremy echoed.
Dell sighed.
CHAPTER 14
“Jeremy, are ya goin’ to the father-son dance?” Dell asked one day. Jeremy stopped looking for puzzle pieces and froze.
“Um,” he said, very slowly. “I dunno.”
“Why not?”
“I mean. My school gets kinda crowded at big stuff like that. And I don’t um. There’s just not a whole lotta stuff to do there,” he lied. “I’d rather stay here with you an’ Snipes that day.”
Sniper sucked in a breath and looked at Jeremy. He seemed to be saying ‘what do we say’ with his eyes. Jeremy kept looking for puzzle pieces.
Another kid was with them today, who refused to tell any of them their name. Well, they refused to tell anyone anything. They were completely mute. That wasn’t even the weirdest part though.
They wore a paper bag over their head, like the kind Ma put his lunch in, and wore clothes too big for them.
Regardless, Dell had let them stay until they were ready to leave. They sat happily in the corner drawing on the floor with chalk. Jeremy ignored them.
When they finished the puzzle, Dell commented on how he should’ve bought one with dragons instead one of old paintings, then told them to go.
“You really don’t want to go to the father-son dance?” Sniper asked once they were outside and walking.
“How would I even go,” he snorted. “S’not like I got a father to take me.”
The two of them were silent for a while.
“I got an idea.” Sniper said.
“Spit it out, then.”
“How about… I pretend to be your dad?”
Jeremy stopped walking. Sniper prodded him and asked if he was still awake.
“That’s so dumb,” he said. “No way it’ll ever work. Even though you’re tall, I don’t think you’re tall enough to be a dad.”
“Some dads can be short, you know.” Sniper laughed.
“Either way, it still won’t work. What if Ma asks where I am?”
“Has she ever in the past?” Sniper asked. “I bet she’s too busy to worry about you. She never asks when you get home from The Mechaman’s, right?”
“...No, not really.” he said.
“So why not?”
“I dunno. I just don’t think it’ll work,” he shrugged. “Like, you’re not wearing the type of clothes a dad would wear.”
“So I’ll get new ones!”
“How would you do that?”
Sniper smiled. “I have just the plan.”
CHAPTER 15
On Friday at 7 PM, Jeremy told Ma that he was going to Boston Commons to catch frogs. He stepped out the front door and shut it behind him.
“Hey.” Sniper said from the bushes. He crawled out from them and brushed leaves off his shirt, then stood up straight.
He was wearing a white polo short tucked into cargo shorts. His hat was gone, probably at The Mechaman’s place, revealing dark brown chin-length hair tucked behind his ears. A pair of glasses with the lens punched out sat on his nosebridge.
“Do I look like a dad?” he asked, giggling.
“Not really. You look more like a highschooler that would make fun of me for being short.” he said.
“Oh well,” Sniper huffed. “Good enough. Uhh. Come on, son!”
Jeremy laughed and followed after him. The clip-clop of Sniper’s dad shoes sounded a lot like a horse.
They made it to the school doors. Sniper looked at him and jerked his head to the door - Jeremy grabbed onto Sniper’s hand and pushed it open.
The cafeteria looked bigger than it was in the daytime. All of the lunchtables had been cleared out and moved to who-knows-where. A single row of lights hung from the ceiling, changing color every few seconds.
Everyone else was with their dads. He’d never been to the father-son dance ever. Every year he couldn’t go.
Sniper seemed shocked by the sheer amount of people at first, then quickly righted himself and stood by the table with all the food. He picked up a cupcake and inspected it.
“What are you looking at it for?” he asked.
“I’m making sure it’s not poisoned,” Sniper said. Jeremy burst out in laughter. “What?”
“What do you mean poisoned? They can’t poison the stuff here. This is a school.”
“...Oh.” Sniper said, looking a little embarrassed. Then, he said a little louder: “C’mon son, let’s go!”
Jeremy let himself be dragged away from the snack table into the crowd of people. The music switched, and everyone arranged in a circle. For a brief moment he panicked - what was he supposed to do? But then Sniper led him away, and they were part of the circle too.
He stuck his right foot in and out, then his left foot, then his right and left arm, then his head, then he did the hokey-pokey and shook it all about.
He couldn’t believe this was what he was missing all those years.
“Are you having fun, uhh, son?” Sniper asked. Jeremy grinned and nodded, laughing.
After the hokey-pokey and shaking it all about, a woman came up to them and turned her head squinting.
“Are you Judy’s husband?” she asked. A girl who looked like she was nine held onto her hand.
Sniper clammed up and looked to Jeremy. Jeremy looked back at him. Sniper looked back at him. What the heck were they supposed to do?
“Uhhh,” Sniper said. “No?”
“That’s her kid,” the woman said, pointing at Jeremy. “What are you doing with Judy’s kid? We eat lunch together, you know. I know her and her kids very well.”
“H-he is. Judy’s kid, I mean,” Sniper’s eyes were as wide as saucepans. “I’m his… third cousin. Twice removed.”
“ He ?” the woman raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips.
“Gotta go! It’s past your bedtime!” Sniper yelled, grabbing Jeremy’s arm and sprinting ahead, shoving past people at lightning speed. They made it out of the school in record time, and leaned against a tree, Sniper huffing and puffing.
“Phew,” he said. “Close one. Are you okay?”
“I told you your dad disguise wouldn’t work!” he laughed. “But I’m fine.” Jeremy tried his hardest to stop laughing while Sniper caught his breath.
“Where do you wanta go next?” Sniper asked.
“Oh, I know,” he said. “Let’s go to the twenty-four hour mart.”
CHAPTER 16
They go to the twenty-four hour mart, Sniper still in his dad clothes. Jeremy waved his hand in front of the automatic sliding door to make it open and close.
“Come on,” Sniper snorted. “I want to see what’s inside.”
“You’ve never been here?” he asked.
“No. I don’t have a lot of money, and I already get enough stuff from The Mechaman, so why would I?”
“Oh,” he said. “I dunno.”
Even though it was only 8 PM, it was mostly deserted. Most people went to the other grocery store in Boston, because there was more stuff there, but this one was known for being notoriously inexpensive.
He pulls a shopping cart out and climbs on it, then kicks off, rocketing forward. The wheels glided along the floor like butter.
“Wait up!” Sniper yelled.
He put a foot down to stop the cart inches before it hit a fruit stand. Sniper caught up and pointed at one of the aisles.
“Let’s go there.”
“Then get in, dude.” Jeremy stepped off the cart and clambered inside the shopping cart, kneeling and raising a fist to the ceiling. Sniper pushed off. The cart raced ahead.
“Woooo!” he yelled. They stopped in the aisle, and he looked around. The shelves were loaded with junk food and he deduced that they must’ve stumbled into the sweets aisle.
Sniper’s eyes were practically twinkling stars with how excited he was. He took a package of chocolate and busted it open, shoveling it in his mouth.
“Hey, wait-” Jeremy laughed. “You can’t do that! That’s stealing.”
“No one’s looking.” Sniper said between bites of chocolate.
Sure enough, Jeremy looked around, and there were no cameras in the corners of the wall like he thought there’d be.
“Oh my god,” he gasped. “You’re right.”
He leaped out of the shopping cart and rifled through the candy, taking whatever looked good. A Mike ‘n Ike’s- a roll of smarties- more that he didn’t even know the name of.
A while later, they were standing in the meats aisle, looking up at all the prepackaged stuff. Sniper snickered.
“What?” he asked. “What’s so funny?”
Sniper kept laughing. Then he hit Jeremy in the face with a fish.
“Ow!” he squealed, holding the side of his face with both hands. “I’m gonna get you, I’m gonna-”
Sniper roared with laughter and dumped the fish back onto the counter, wiping his hands on his cargo shorts. In the night’s events, his shirt had come undone, and at some point, the glasses had been lost too.
“Jeez, that really freakin’ hurt.” he said, wiping fish slime off his cheek.
Sniper did not see Jeremy reaching for the fish, nor did he see him picking up. He did see it fly toward his face.
CHAPTER 17
“What’re we doing?” he asked Sniper, who was stuffing things into a new (or, old) backpack that The Mechaman found for him.
“We’re going somewhere.” Sniper said. He propped his leg up on the park bench and started tying and retying his shoes. Jeremy noticed that all of the stuff Sniper put in his backpack was stolen from the twenty-four hour mart and snorted.
“But where?” he asked again.
“It’s a secret.”
They left Boston at 8 AM with little more than junk food, sandwiches from Ma, and the clothes on their back.
“Are you sure Ma’s gonna be alright with me skippin’ school?” he asked, kicking at the gravel in front of him.
Sniper nodded.
The railroad they were following veered into a group of bushes. Jeremy stepped on the tracks and balanced on them, just like how he’d walk on the curb of the road with his arms out for balance.
After a while, he turned to Sniper, who’d been staring at the ground the entire time they’d been walking.
“What time is it?”
“Eleven,” Sniper said. “I’m hungry.”
They sat down by the tracks and opened their backpacks. Sniper’s backpack still smelled a lot like new cloth and rubber.
He unwrapped his sandwich and gave the other to Sniper, who did the same. Sniper’s habit of making a sandwich disappear in four bites was no longer a thing.
Sniper took a can of Sprite from his backpack and gave it to Jeremy.
“I can’t open it.” he said. Sniper shook his head and still held it out - he grabbed it and twisted the tab.
To his surprise, it popped open, and spilled a little on the ground. He grinned and took a drink, then gave it back.
Something sounded in the distance. Sniper looked behind them, eyes widening.
“Duck!” Sniper yelled.
He grabbed Jeremy by the shoulders and roughly pulled him away from the railroad tracks. They rolled into a group of scratchy plants.
Jeremy felt wind at his back and looked up. A train roared by, wheels creaking on metal. Its horn blared and was lost to the wind. He felt his heart race. He was scared.
It felt like ages until the train finally made its way past, the entire length of it chugging away.
“Are you okay?” Sniper asked, poking his head up from the scratchy plants. Jeremy nodded and crawled out. The foil wrapping from their sandwiches were gone.
“C’mon, we gotta go,” he said. “We need to go to that secret place like you said, right?”
“Yeah.” Sniper said.
CHAPTER 18
“Are we there yet?” Jeremy asked.
“No.” Sniper said.
“Aw, what? Last time you said we were almost there , and now it’s no ?” he groaned. “My legs hurt.”
“ Almost there is also no , Jay. And get used to it.”
“Why’re you bein’ so meaaan ?”
“Huh?” Sniper said. “I’m not being mean. I’m just tired, that’s all. Are you hungry?”
Jeremy shrugged. “Kinda.”
Sniper took out a sealed plastic bag of beef jerky and handed it to him.
“Is this from The Mechaman’s pantry?”
Sniper nodded. He took it and opened the bag, stuffing one of the pieces in his mouth. It was better than he thought it’d be.
“Do you remember anything about your dad?” Sniper asked.
Jeremy stopped chewing, a little caught off guard.
“Not really,” he said. “Why’re you askin’? You’ve never asked before.”
“Just curious.”
“Well, o’course I don’t remember anythin’ about him. I don’t think I even saw him as a baby, but… I dunno. Babies can’t remember anything,” He thought for a moment. “Maybe he’s a very important business CEO.”
“Or a famous performer, like in a play.” Sniper suggested.
“Yeah, or-” He giggled. “Maybe he works at a cafe, like Ma.”
“Or,” Sniper held up his hands. “What about this? What if he’s a secret agent who works for the government?”
Jeremy scoffed. “No way.”
“I’m just saying!”
“Hey, it’s gettin’ kinda dark.” he said, pointing at the sky. The sun was going down, streaking the sky with orange.
“Uh-huh.”
“Are we gonna get to your secret place before dark?” he asked.
He doesn’t answer him.
CHAPTER 19
It got colder. And darker. A whole lot darker.
“I’m scared,” he said. “I want to go home.”
Sniper clapped a hand on his shoulder and shook his head. Jeremy gripped the straps of his backpack tighter than usual.
“You should put on your jacket.” Sniper told him.
He untied it from his waist and zipped it up, then looked at Sniper, who was still in his red shirt and brown hunting vest.
“Aren’tcha cold?”
“Didn’t I tell you a long time ago that I’m old enough to not be cold at night?”
“Yeah, you did,” Jeremy replied. “But now it’s fall.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Can I have juice?” he asked. Sniper nodded- he could barely see it in the dark- and sat down, patting the grass next to him. He opened a bottle of apple juice and gave it to him.
“Don’t drink all of it,” Sniper warned him. “I want some too.”
Jeremy drank some and was stopped by Sniper trying to grab it back. He held on tight and wrestled it between them.
Sniper won, because of course he did. He drank the last of it and threw the bottle on the ground.
“Don’t litter.” Jeremy snarked, angry and annoyed. He picked up a rock. “Why’d you have to drink the rest of it?”
“I’m thirsty too,” Sniper said. “And that’s the last drinkable stuff I had.”
“I’m still thirsty.”
“So? Deal with it.”
He raised the hand with the rock in it high above his head.
“I hate you,” he yelled. “I don’t know why I followed you were. I want to go home. I miss Ma.”
“What’re you gonna do with that rock, Jay ?” Sniper said. “Are you going to throw it at me?”
Jeremy wound up his arm and got ready to throw it. He sighed and launched it toward the ground. It sent specks of dust flying up.
“Go to sleep.” Sniper said.
They scooted over to a place further away from the tracks. It was moderately covered by a big bush that looked like it was dying. The ground was hard and the grass offered no cushioning.
“Sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” Sniper asked, taking off his hat and weighing it down with stones so it wouldn’t fly away in the night.
“For saying ‘I hate you’,” Jeremy said. “I don’t.”
“It’s okay.”
The two of them sat there for a while, just being. Jeremy leaned back and rested his head on part of the sorta-kinda-dying bush.
“Are you gonna tell me why we walked all the way out here?”
He heard Sniper shift.
“Maybe.”
“C’mon.” he said.
“Okay,” Sniper sighed. “But you have to promise not to get mad at me. Or try to hit me. Or laugh in my face.”
“Why would I do that?” he asked.
“Just promise!”
“I promise.”
“Pinky promise?”
“This is so dumb,” Jeremy snorted. “Okay.”
The two of them locked pinkies and shook them. Jeremy said he swore on his dad’s coat. Sniper didn’t laugh.
“I know where your dad is.” Sniper said, and Jeremy froze.
“What?” he asked. “If this is some kinda joke, it’s not- it’s not funny.”
Sniper just laid there looking at the ground. He didn’t dare make eye contact with Jeremy.
“Please,” His palms were starting to feel sweaty and cold. “It has to be a joke. Tell me it’s a joke.”
When Sniper didn’t say anything back, he balled his hand into a fist and clenched his teeth together.
“Snipes.” Voice crack.
He punched the dirt as hard as he could. Pebbles and dust flew into the air and landed on his hand. He punched it again. And again.
“Hey. Hey, calm down. Jay.”
Sniper grabbed his arms and held them tightly, yelling. His words weren’t even registering at that point.
“Did you know the entire time?” he asked. Sniper shook his head ‘no’ and opened his backpack.
“Do you want a gumdrop?”
“Yeah.”
“I wanted to figure out what happened to your dad,” Sniper began, talking kinda slow. “So I went and asked the coffee lady. And the librarian. And just about everyone in Boston except for your mum and The Mechaman.”
“How’d you figure it out?” he asked, nibbling on a gumdrop.
“I found some old receipts from the cafe and some old letters still stuck in the post office that were never delivered,” he said. “And it all kind of made sense. I think.”
“What if it’s not him?”
“Well, if it’s not, you have permission to hate me for real,” Sniper mused. “But I really think it is.”
“Okay,” he finally said, very very quietly. “I believe you.”
CHAPTER 20
“Jay,” Sniper whispered after a long while of just laying there trying to fall asleep. “Can you tell me a story?”
“A story?” he asked in a little bit of disbelief.
“Yeah, a story.” Sniper said back.
“Whaddya wanta hear?”
“Not sure,” he mumbled. “My mum and dad used to tell me stories at bedtime before I turned nine. I just want to hear one again.”
“Oh,” Jeremy said. “Okay.”
So he tried his best to think of a good story that Ma’s told him before. Maybe Goldilocks and the Three Bears, or maybe the The Dog and The Elephant.
“This one is called The Little Engine That Could.” And he told the story about the little engine that could. “And this one’s about Wang the Peddler.” And he told the story about Wang the peddler.
Then, he started to mix them up. He told Sniper about the peddler that could, and Wang the little engine, and then about Mechaman and the beanstalk, then about Jack and the beast.
And, even though he was getting tired and his eyelids were starting to droop, he told his last story, which was called Jeremy and his Friend.
The story was about a boy named Jeremy didn’t have a dad. Jeremy had a boring life until he met another boy, and that boy had no name and lived in a tree. So the two boys had fun everyday finding new things to do, until one day, the boy who lived in a tree asked Jeremy to come with him to visit a secret place.
And Jeremy listened to the boy who lived in a tree, and they followed a railroad. Jeremy was very far away from his house, and the boy was very far away from his tree.
And then the boy who lived in a tree told Jeremy that they were going to find his dad. And at first Jeremy didn’t believe the boy who lived in a tree, and he got all mad. Jeremy wondered if it would be better to have no parents than to have a missing dad, because then maybe he wouldn’t miss his dad so much.
And they walked far enough along the railroad, and they found Jeremy’s dad, and they lived happily ever after.
He turned over to see if Sniper was asleep, and couldn’t quite tell. He unzipped his jacket and moved to lift Sniper’s head, then folded his jacket and slid it under his head, propping it up.
“Goodnight Snipes.” he said.
CHAPTER 21
They left first thing after waking up. Sniper took back the plastic bag of beef jerky he’d given Jeremy yesterday and Jeremy asked for another gumdrop.
The railroad tracks finally led somewhere worthwhile. He whooped and shouted and sprinted ahead, backpack bouncing, the sleeves of his jacket tied around his waist flying after him.
“Wait up!” Sniper yelled. He turned around and saw him running after him, huffing.
The town wasn’t really that impressive. He could spot a post office, a building that looked sort of like a store, and maybe eight houses. The roads weren’t paved and the sidewalks were crumbling. The train station seemed to be the largest building in there.
Grass grew from every crack in the cement and weeds shot up like lightpoles. He picked up a dandelion and blew all the fuzz off it.
He followed Sniper around like a lost puppy. Sniper knocked on the door of every house and asked if anyone with the last name ‘O’Donnell’ lived there, receiving a very confused ‘no’ every time.
Except the last house.
“Hello,” a very old woman with big glasses said. “What are you two boys up to here? I’ve never seen you before.”
“Excuse me, but do you know if anyone with the last name O’Donnell lives here?” Sniper asked.
“Oh dear.” the woman said.
Jeremy and Sniper looked at each other with a face that said ‘what’s that supposed to mean?’ and stayed silent.
“What’s wrong?” Jeremy spoke up.
“You’ve just missed him,” she smiled. “He caught the train to Iowa just a few weeks ago.”
“What?” he asked.
“He caught the train to Iowa a few weeks a-” Her eyes widened. “Are you alright young man?”
“He’s fine,” Sniper said. “Can we come in, please? He’s had a long walk.”
“You’re not telling me you two walked all the way here.” she said, laughing lightly. She obviously meant it as a joke, but Jeremy’s heart skipped a beat anyway.
She shut the door behind them and told them to take off their shoes so they wouldn’t track dirt on the carpet.
“How do you know him?” Sniper asked.
“I don’t,” she said. “He just came by one night and asked me if he could stay here for a while,” The fridge was opened and she brought out a plate of cold macaroni. “Seemed like he was hiding from the law.”
“So why’d ya let him stay?” Jeremy raised an eyebrow, trying his best to act normal. “If he seemed like that.”
“Oh, I’m always open to house guests. It’d been a while since someone new stopped by,” She turned on the stove and began to stir the macaroni. “I can understand the crime business, was in it myself when I was a young woman, hah!”
Sniper nodded. She separated the macaroni onto two plates and slid it toward them, then set down two forks.
“Well! Won’t you two eat up?”
They do.
CHAPTER 22
A few hours later, after laying in the woman’s living room and flipping through comics, there’s a knock on the door.
“Oh, let me get it.” she said, stepping over them. Sniper looked to Jeremy - Jeremy looked to Sniper.
He heard a couple of ‘mm-hmms’ and ‘yeps’ from the front door. Then, she called for both of them. A policeman stood at the door, brown mustache thick.
The policeman said his name. “Your mother has been worried sick about you.”
Jeremy stepped forward and hung his head. Sniper stood close behind him, looking straight at the policeman and making eye contact with him. The policeman seemed visibly uncomfortable at that.
“This is my first time riding in a cop car.” Jeremy said. The policeman chuckled.
“And hopefully your last.”
“Yuh-huh,” he said. “Do you really shoot big guns and kill people?”
“Now where’d you get that idea?” the policeman asked.
“I saw it on the news.” Silence.
The police car pulled up in the driveway of his house and stopped. The policeman got out and opened the door, waving from the two of them to step out. Sniper hadn’t said a single word during the ride.
Sniper breathed a sigh of relief when the car screeched away.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Sniper asked.
“Sure,” he said. “Go ahead.”
“My real name is Robin Mundy.”
Jeremy was quiet for a moment. “I like Sniper more.”
“Me too.” Sniper said.
He turned to open his front door.
END