as1.e8 – Just Wait

as1.e8

Just Wait (Blues Traveler)

            The second semester of third grade began on Monday, January 3^rd. I remembered how much of a hard transition there had been at school after we came back from winter break that year. It was like everyone was done being little kids, and we’d all discovered a new part of ourselves over those two weeks. We were well on our way to turning into the upperclassmen of elementary school, and this came with newfound confidence that screamed, “hey, we’re actually making it with the game of life thing.” But we had also learned that our opinions were about more than just things being “yucky,” or “cool,” or “boring.” The stuff we liked was becoming a part of our personalities, and we were just starting to come up with reasons why we liked said stuff, and properly debate them.

            All well and good, but subtlety and learning that gray exists between black and white? These nuances still needed to be learned. For now, we were opiniated little devils.

            It began about five minutes after the recess bell. Now that I was slowing down with my time skips and had things to set up, I already had a full schedule ahead. All I wanted to do was spend a little time catching up with the full gang by the fort. But then the peaceful, usual din of the schoolyard was shattered by shouting from a boy who had come to school in his new Sonic the Hedgehog sweater; the weather being chilly and all.

            “No way! Mario is old and slow!” he screamed like the core of his being had just taken a direct, life-threatening insult. “Sonic has better graphics! He’s faster and cooler!”

            “You’re crazy,” the boy wearing a Super Mario World shirt with Yoshi on it fired back. “You have no idea what you’re talking about. Are you stupid? I think you must be. At least Mario can hold onto his coins when he gets hit, and you don’t speed through the levels so fast you can’t appreciate the design. He has a better cartoon show, too.”

            They continued to bicker, but were drowned out for us by another argument, this time coming from Heather and Pete. She was aggressively following him, and it looked like he could have easily run away if he wanted, if not for his constantly turning around to counter everything she said or trying ever more to get in the final word.

            “Stop walking away from me, Pete!” Heather snapped in frustration. “Bugles are a perfectly fine snack, especially for TV-watching. My dad introduced them to me, so they are very dear to my heart. Have fun touching a remote control after eating Doritos!”

            Pete groaned and spun around on his heels, planting his feet in the mulch like he was standing his ground. “You’re crazy, Heather. Only southerners eat that junk. Oh, wow, cone-shaped corn. Really exciting. Do you eat them while watching NASCAR?”

            “I don’t watch any sports, and definitely not racing! I bet you eat your gross cheese triangles and lick the dust off the remote while watching The Adventures of Pete & Pete. In fact, I also bet that’s your new favorite show, Peat Bog. I think you’re the crazy one!”

            “There’s that word again…” Quincy, his schedule messed up, murmured sleepily.

            “So what if it is my favorite show? It’s funny! I bet you’ve never laughed ever!”

            Heather thought up her next retort and opened her mouth, but I spoke up first, “Hey, Heather. Are we still on, or is this kinda what you were planning to do all day?”

            She looked at me and smiled. “Hi, Maisy. Yeah, I’ll get to you in a little bit. Just trying to correct a few stupid wrong tastes Petey Poopyface here has.”

            “Real mature, Heather,” Pete scoffed, and gave up his territory by walking away.

            “And how are you going to ‘correct’ his tastes, Heather?” Adelina called out after her as she got back to chasing him, but got no response. “Well, I guess we know what this week is gonna be like. It’s like everyone suddenly discovered opinions.”

            “I’m guessing you’re used to it because of your sisters?” Edmond asked plainly.

            “Duh. They’re always fighting about anything at all. Music, clothes, what to eat for breakfast… So much of it doesn’t matter, yet ‘live and let live’ isn’t a thing at home.”

            “That’s sad,” Liesel lamented. “It’s as if everyone just has to have something to fight about. It’s like my mom always says: we should focus on what unites us instead—”

            “What do you mean, keyboards aren’t real pianos?” some boy over by Eddie’s tires shouted. “No, I don’t care how much you go to practice!”

            “Uh… Hold on. I’ll be right back,” Liesel said, and hurried off on her own.

            “Man, my parents tell me I argue at a teenager’s level about music,” Hayden said, “but just because I can, doesn’t mean I’m gonna. People get angry when they’re called out for being wrong, so why debate anything? I don’t need bad blood with anyone.”

            “Again, kind of missing the point, buddy,” Adelina said. “You can have a side on something without being ‘wrong.’ Never sharing your opinions isn’t that great, either.”

            “What are you going to do? Go through life not telling anyone what you like?” I asked Hayden—and he appeared to consider this right away. “Guys, we don’t need to talk about what kind of music is better than whatever. All genres give us something.”

            “You really wanna keep us together, don’t you, Maze?” Edmond asked me. “Just watch. First time we all have a tiny argument, and she’ll demand we shake hands, hug, and bake a cake together.” He smirked, so I knew he meant nothing by it.

            “You’re not exactly a people person yourself, Edmond,” Quincy said, his eyes now closed as he leaned against a fort support. “You were threatened by me at first.”

            “Yeah, that was pretty funny, actually,” Adelina said with a laugh.

            “Hey, I have my reasons, okay?” Edmond retorted. “For being… prickly…”

            “Aw, Eddie, I’m proud of you!” Liesel replied after sneaking back over. “That might’ve just been the first time I heard you admit it. You’re showing real progress.”

            “Blah, blah,” he sighed. “So, did you ‘win’ your argument? You set ’em straight?”

            “Um. I think so. Does it count if the kid talking smack about keyboards ran off in terror after yelling that we were ganging up on him?”

            “Nope,” Adelina said. “He’s just going to find people that agree with him now, to feel validated and protected. And before you know it, recess is seeing an all-out war.”

            “No!” Liesel gasped. “I hope not. I barely got to make my point before he ran.”

            Our enlightening conversation was interrupted when Kent left Dr. Brady’s office beneath the main floor platform, looking peeved by whatever had been said to him. The bespectacled kid with the wild blond hair was a strange one that believed in, or invented, conspiracy theories about places and happenings in town no one else took seriously.

            “Well, I’m sorry you feel that way, Kent,” Brady said from his ‘doorway,’ “but I’m not here to agree with everything you say. You can talk to a mirror if you want that.”

            Kent turned around and pointed accusingly. “I thought you were here to actually listen to us, Brady. No one else will. They laugh and leave before I can finish my point!”

            “Look, my friend, you just spent ten minutes telling me that the playground is a big experiment inside an invisible alien spaceship. I listened to your arguments, and I was not convinced. This isn’t what I’m here to do. Maybe tomorrow, we can begin to work on the root of these delusions of yours, and we will have a proper talk, hm?”

            “Delusions?! And you just said all that out loud! I thought you kept secrets!”

            “You’ve already told half the school about your theory. It’s not a secret.”

            “Whatever, guy. See if I warn you about the next big plan to suck out our brains.”

            Brady groaned, rubbed his forehead, and turned to… me. “Maisy, good—you’re nearby. Your ten minutes are next. My office, please,” he said and disappeared into it.

            My friends stared at me, with Liesel being the first to ask, “Maze? Are you okay?”

            “Yeah, I’m surprised,” Adelina said. “You seem to have your stuff so together.”

            I shrugged off their concerns with a laugh. “Guys, it’s nothing. I just want to chat with him about something. I’ll probably be in there for just a couple minutes. I am going to be busy the rest of recess, though, so if I don’t see you all before the bell rings… I’ll just see you in class instead, I guess. Oh, but Eddie, if I do have a little spare time, I got something I want to talk to you about. You won’t like it, but it has to be done.”

            “Wait, what?” he exclaimed as I went inside. “Maisy, don’t leave me in suspense!”

            Brady’s little therapist or advice room—no one was sure what to call it, so it was usually just known as his “office”—didn’t offer the greatest privacy. But it had three walls, and a spinning tic-tac-toe board that made for half of a fourth one, giving patients and Brady just enough of a barrier to get behind and not have their lips read. As long as you kept it hushed, chances were your troubles wouldn’t spill out into the school body.

            This had always felt like a service unique to our grade, and I had no idea if those above or below us had anything similar. Now that I had an adult’s mind, I was a little dubious on how safe or effective Brady’s advice may have been, but there was one thing definitely true about his talents: he had an exceptional memory. He could place a name to every face, and as far as I knew, remembered what everyone who spoke with him had on their minds. For a kid giving other kids life advice, I guess you could do a lot worse.

            “Hello, Maisy,” he said as we settled into a pair of mulch piles; the closest things we had to seats. He took off a clipboard that was hanging from a bolt and flipped to a page. “I don’t believe you’ve visited me before. We can talk about anything.”

            “I appreciate that, Brady, but honestly, you wouldn’t believe the things I got going on in my head. Heh…” I told him, trying to keep things light. But as a ‘professional,’ he only nibbled on his pen cap and stared at me like I could be a case study. “Okay, this isn’t actually about me. I just have a question for you. I’ve seen kids leaving this ‘office’ for years; you must’ve talked to half of what’s now third grade. Without spilling secrets, what do you think… Quick consensus here, without actually polling anyone…”

            “Maisy, I’m sure you’re well-liked. I’ve never heard anything bad said about you from anyone other than Claudia, but she insults everyone behind their backs. Even me.”

            “N-no, no—like I said, not about me. I’m not insecure enough to care, anyway. I want to ask what you think the effect of a secret recess club might be on the… populace.”

            “A secret club? As in, what, just a gathering spot for our peers to hang out in?”

            “Well, yeah, but it has to have some exclusivity to it. We’re not saying kids can’t go there, but they just have to be on a wait list. Because it’s small. And… secretive. Both of Desert Tree’s schools have ’em. Do you think a hideaway could help with any issues?”

            “Hrmm…” Brady tapped his chin with his pen. “Clubs aren’t really special just for existing. It’s that fear of missing out and the wait list that would make it a ‘place to be.’ I’d imagine that those who lack self-esteem or feel like nothing good happens to them could benefit from spending a recess in such a place. There’s also the ‘social mixing’ element, where our peers are forced, for the lack of a better word, to interact with others they normally wouldn’t talk to. They may even make unexpected friends along the way.”

            “I’m hearing mostly benefits here, Brady. Would you go to such a place?”

            “Ah, ahem, well… If there was an opening on my schedule, I guess it would be an interesting spot to see. So long as it has fair rules, oversight, and allows in everyone if they wait their turn, I’d approve of this ‘club.’ As a judgment-free zone where students can relax, be themselves, and chat openly. Just don’t let someone like Claudia take it over.”

            “Oh, there would be safeguards. Is there anything we’d have to worry about?”

            “On the playground, Mrs. Sundren maintains order. In a place she can’t see, you will have to police yourselves. Your best chance at making this work is to write up clear rules, keep them posted, and insist that anyone who breaks them is kicked out for a time. Someone can run a hideout, but no single person should call the shots. In my opinion.”

            “Thanks. You’ve given me a lot to think about. I don’t really get ‘social stuff.’”

            “Of course, Maisy. Just know that if this place has a toxic atmosphere, I’ll take it upon myself to… ‘rat it out,’ as the saying goes. For the sake of positive mental health.”

            “That’s fair. I hope it doesn’t come to that. Well, I appreciate your input, and… that’s all I wanted to talk about.” We both stood up so Brady could get in his next appointment early, but I bit my lip anxiously and hesitated. “By the way… Is there anything you could tell me about Edmond? Nothing private, of course, but I’m so scared about losing him as a friend,” I lied, “because he’s really hair-triggered about stuff.”

            “He’s actually never come to see me. Even if he had, yes, I couldn’t really tell you about it. Like I told you before…” he hung up his clipboard, “he does have trust issues around boys, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. All I can say is to keep being his friend as best you can. He’s a sensitive kind of kid, that’s for sure, even if he ‘can’t’ seem that way on the outside. And he is haunted by a past event. Do not try to force him to share it.”

            “I won’t. But I hope he does with us one day.” My watch let out the beep that signaled it was the top of the hour. “Gotta run. I have another appointment to keep.”

            “Staying busy, aren’t you? That’s good. Keeps you sharp. Oh, and… this still counts as a session. Sorry about that,” he informed me and held out his hand.

            “Now hold on, Dr. Brady. I thought the first visit was free.”

            “Well, yeah, but… I mean, if you don’t feel like tipping me, that’s okay.”

            I sighed, dug out a quarter, and said as I gave it up, “Keep up the good work.”

            I left him with a friendly wave, and he called out behind me, “Enzo! You’re up!”

            Though not officially part of my effort to bring a club to RVE, there were three kids around that would play vital roles in its creation. Approval on the social aspect from Brady was one challenge down. Now I needed some inspiration from history. If Heather had come through, I’d get just that. Seeing her standing by one of the trees with a smile, where she cradled a big brown and worn album in her arms, was a good sign.

            “Maisy, right on time!” she shouted to me, but didn’t dare to take a hand off the book to wave. “Looking at old photos on a breezy day in the shade… So nice.”

            “Is that really one of the history books? It’s even bigger than I expected,” I said as I arrived; which was true, given that I never asked to see it in my original game of life.

            “Sure is. The fourthie in charge let me borrow it for a day after I convinced him that it was for a good cause. As long as only I touch it, and it never gets dropped.”

            “Thanks, Heather. I really appreciate it. So, how many clubs have there been?”

            “Patience, Maisy. There happens to be something else in here I think you’ll want to see.” We sat down and leaned against the trunk, and she gently opened the book, its old binding crackling under the strain and the sticky pages yellowed with time. “By the way, I was almost late myself. I got caught up in a little bit of, erm… drama.”

            “Yeah, I think everyone heard you and ‘Peat Bog’ going at it.”

            She groaned. “We’ve been like that since kindergarten. Don’t, you know, take our squabbles too seriously… Anyway! Onto a quick history lesson. First, check these out.”

            Heather gently turned to a specific full fold of two pages with eight pictures, five of them Polaroid photos with the expected desaturated look. A sticker label was marked, “1989 – The Wonderful Snow Day!” My eyes lit up, at both the fact that I thought I was looking at a Midwest city at first, and that she’d remembered I was curious to see Royal Valley covered in the last snowfall it would likely have for a very long time.

            “Oh, wow,” I murmured. “Is that Main Street? And is that this playground?”

            “Yep. Taken through the fence, since school was out and everything. These were all contributed by RVE students—see the signatures?” She tapped at a 4 x 6 that showed the Captain Salty restaurant by King Arcade’s construction site covered in snow, signed in gold pen by a one Benny Bowers. “My cousin was a fifthie here when it happened.”

            “That’s amazing,” I said, and reached to grab the album without thinking. She, of course, pulled it away, meaning I had to give her a little ‘my bad’ snicker. “The shot of the old arcade neon sign with snow on it is really cool. And that one, of Desert Tree’s canals frozen over… That’s a little haunting. To think it actually happened here…”

            Man, I wouldn’t trade my time in Chicago for anything, but I did wish that it was possible to go back to Royal Valley in 1989, like in someone else’s body or something.

            “I think most of us have some vague memories of that day,” Heather said, and let me see the images for a few more seconds before she flipped ahead. “My biggest one was staring out the window at my street, and then wham, a car skidded into the back of another. It was slow, so not much damage, but the sound really scared me.”

            “Eh, snow’s just another day of driving in Chicago,” I ‘bragged’ a little.

            “Okay, Maisy…” Heather took a breath after stopping on a page full of pictures of smiling groups of students at school from the 70s. “You want to know about clubs.”

            “Yeah. I wasn’t even sure the school had any before now, until I asked you.”

            “Well, you might notice the invisible tape,” she said and used a fingernail to slice through one small ribbon that kept two pages bound together. “We hide these pictures. Just in case a teacher finds this book, sees the clubs, and might think we’re trying to start one.” She sliced the other piece of tape, but hesitated. “This history’s a little forbidden.”

            “Oh, that’s the best kind of history there is. C’mon, let me see what we buried.”

            “Okay,” she murmured, and I got all giddy about how melodramatic yet precious this was to her and the other recordkeepers. “But don’t tell anyone. It is restricted.”

            She opened it to a full spread that looked like a scrapbook. There were only four photos—two in black and white, one of which was very old and faded—and a few notes and drawings from past students. The pictures all depicted kids enjoying subversive fun in their hidden dens of innocent vice that made school a little more special.

            “The fifth grade recordkeepers hold onto the really detailed books about history at RVE,” Heather explained, “so I don’t know much more than what you’re seeing here. Like it says, this photo was shot in the first known secret club,” she pointed at the oldest picture, of grinning boys in overalls smiling in a familiar place, “and it lasted from 1930 to 1934, in the boiler room where Cass runs the shop—while it was still in use. The boys here realized there was a ten-minute gap where they could go down there and hang out. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. The tall boy’s the ‘illegitimate son’ of Hadron McMare himself. I’m not sure what that means. How do you become ‘legitimate?’ I hope I am.”

            Sweet, naïve Heather. But, yes, Hadron did have a son from his first affair just after arriving in the area. I had no idea that he began the school’s legacy of clubs.

            “This photo,” she pointed to the other one without color, which had a few girls in it this time, “is of a place called ‘The Jazz Closet.’ We think it was an unused janitor’s room. As you can see, it was a bit of a tight space, but they made it their own. The jazz posters and record player helped place the date at 1950 to ’56 or so. They probably had no idea there was a club before this one. We only know of both because some old shoeboxes with these memories were found back in the 60s, when this book was made.”

            “It looks like they’re holding candy cigarettes,” I observed. “Evil little things.”

            “Agreed… I assume you don’t mean the kids, of course. Next, we have this one.” She pointed to a color photo of the boiler room with students in bright, groovy clothes.

            “Back to that place again, huh… 1968-1975. It lasted a while.”

            “Until it got shut down. That was when the staff sealed it up. It stayed frozen in time, until some bold kid brought bolt-cutters to school in 1982. It’s been the store ever since. Finally, the previous club,” we both looked at a picture of badass 80s brats rocking sunglasses inside an empty classroom, “is a bit of an anomaly. And a little debatable.

            “It was basically a group that kept getting detention on purpose, and treated the room like a clubhouse because the teacher that monitored them was too old to really control them. It lasted two years: ’86 and ’87. We think it broke up after the kids who kept getting sent there started fighting. The first one also got shut down, and the 1950s one, we believe was forgotten because they were bad at passing it onto the next grade.”

            I never knew any of these places existed before, and told Heather after she closed up the book, “Phew, that’s a lot of history. It’d be crazy if a new club opened while we’re here, huh? Think about it; they only existed for a few years across the school’s history.”

            Heather blinked at me. “I suppose so. There have been rumors for a long time that ours inspired the secret ones in the Desert Tree schools, even though we haven’t been able to hold onto ours. Well, I hope you enjoyed the history lesson, Maisy. It was good practice for me, since I’m still in training. May the past inspire you… as we say.”

            We both got up, and I stretched as I replied, “Thanks. It was educational.”

            And I wasn’t that surprised when she took out a cute little pink vinyl coin purse and gave it a shake. “There is still the little matter of a tip… For my services.”

            Naturally. I fished out a quarter and handed it to her, which bought me a smile.

            I had one last stop. Doing my due diligence as a secret school store customer, I checked that Mrs. Sundren wasn’t facing my direction before I went past the corner of bricks that kept the place concealed. Claudia and Vera were nearby, inches from the wall but not daring to lean against it at the risk of getting dirt on their fancy clothes. Poor shy Anna seemed to be trying to fit in with them, but the why wasn’t for me to comprehend.

            “Yeah, so that’s why I’m more into Prada, and Vera’s more about Gucci,” Claudia said as she checked her nails. “I mean, they’re what our moms buy, but we can totally see why. It’s okay, though. It’s not enough to, like, bicker and ruin a friendship over.”

            Vera asked flatly, “What about you, Anna? What luxury line does your mom like?”

            Anna replied meekly, “Um, well… She bought a used Louis Vuitton bag once.”

            “Louis Vuitton?! That overpriced haute couture with the tacky monogram all over everything?” Claudia said, she and Vera gagging. “Mommy might be crazy, Anna.”

            Wow. I didn’t remember those two being this bad as a kid, but I never had much of a reason to get anywhere near them. They were definitely the antagonists of recess.

            There was only one boy ahead of me for the shop, who went up to the window right as I arrived and asked, “So, I made a bet. Are there really black people in Scotland?”

            Cass scowled and replied, “Hm, not anymore, after we left. Did you really wait in line just to ask me that?” She spoke over his snickers, “Oh, you think that’s funny? Get out of here, you dobber. If I wanted to hear nonsense, I’d listen to my kindergartener brother try to tell a joke.” She then grumbled after he ran off, “Everyone’s a comedian.”

            I came up, crouched, and said, “Hi again, Cass. Were you able to get me a—”

            “Shh, shush,” she interrupted with hushing gestures. “Careful with the K word. It’s powerful, dangerous, hard-to-procure stuff. Not here. Come inside. Quietly.”

            A direct invite to a former club space? I didn’t expect that. What a bonus! I got down on my back and slid through rather smoothly if I do say so, and she closed the hatch behind me. The old boiler room seemed smaller on the inside, and it was pretty musty and dusty, while also smelling of mildew. I wouldn’t make a secret spot of it if I could. Being one of the school merchants was suddenly not quite as glamorous.

            “Yes, I got in contact with the fifthie who runs the store over winter break,” Cass said and took out a rusted metal combination lockbox from under the boiler itself. “It’s a ‘black box’ item—special order only, from the senior shopkeeper.” She set the digits, and opened and closed the box before I could get a peek inside. “This is a rental only, Maisy. If you don’t bring it back within a week, we’re both gonna be in trouble.”

            She handed over a simple but powerful thing: a brass key. It seemed to vibrate in my hand as I confirmed, “I won’t ask how they got it, but it is for the back gate, right?”

            “Yes. That’ll be ten dollars, and another five for a security deposit.”

            Highway robbery for the good deed I was doing, but I handed over the cash just the same, and also inquired, “There doesn’t happen to be one for the shed, I take it?”

            “Not that we know of. But, since you’re a good customer, I’ll let you in on a secret. That shed has a hole in the rear wall, and the panel covering it has loosened up over the years. I won’t ask what you’re planning to do in there, but I’m not involved.”

            “Oh, it won’t be a secret for very long. By the way…” I looked around the space a little more. “You know that this used to a hideout, right? Two times, in fact.”

            “Um, yeah, of course I do. You can even find some faded names scratched in the old bricks if you look. I have to close up, Maze, so you better get going. But first…”

            She grabbed a tip jar filled with nickels and dimes and rattled it by my face. And here I thought the tipping economy in 2020 was ridiculous. Today was cleaning me out.

            “There she is, finally,” Liesel said as I rejoined her and Edmond by the climbing dome with a few minutes left on the clock. “What were you doing all recess, anyway?”

            I looked up and saw the other trio basking in the sun at the top of the dome, giving us OGs some distance. Which was fortunate, since they wouldn’t hear what I was about to ask. God knows Eddie didn’t need the additional pressure or embarrassment.

            “You take care of what you needed to?” Edmond asked coolly, hands in pockets.

            “Yes,” I replied with a sigh, and took a deep breath. There was no need to hold in the question for any longer. Edmond would need at least the last minutes of recess to process what I was about to ask. “Hey, Eddie? Don’t freak out. Me and Leese are gonna have a sleepover at her place Saturday, and we talked it over, and… um… you’re invited.”

            Like Heather had done, he blinked at me. Then he sniffled. He had an amazing poker face, I had to admit, but I knew he thought I was kidding— until I won the battle with my fellow combatant Liesel. Her idle stare was even more intense than mine.

            “You’re… not joking?” he piped with a voice crack. “You’re serious? You actually want me to come to a sleepover?” I could tell he really wanted to scream, but no one else nearby was allowed to find out. “Oh, man, the crazy ones were you two all along!”

            “Eddie, it’s gonna be great!” Liesel promised him. “You’ll camp inside with your own sleeping bag, and Maisy’s bringing over her Wayne’s World tape for us to watch.”

            “B-but I’ve never even been to a sleepover! And you’re… you know… girls!”

            “Yeah, so? I promise, we’re not gonna do makeovers or yucky stuff like that.”

            “I meant… Is that even allowed? Aren’t there rules against boy-girl sleepovers?”

            “Our parents already said it was okay,” I informed him. “Not trying to go over your head—we just wanted to check first. Please? We need your help with… a project.”

            He put a hand over his racing heart. “Ooh, man… No way. It’s impossible. Sorry.”

            “I can’t believe you actually got Edmond to agree to a sleepover, Maze,” River said six days later as I packed the second of two backpacks full of stuff in our bedroom on a Saturday morning. “Especially his first one. And not even in his own home, too.”

            “Well, you’d think he’d more comfortable with having it there,” I replied and jammed in my pajamas, “but he’d see it as an invasion of his personal safe space. It’s not that weird, though. All of our families are pretty…” I was too young to say ‘progressive,’ “um, cool about it. He’s gotta get out of his thick shell, and he’s nervous around boys.”

            “Hm… Hard to imagine Penny doing that with me and Carlos, is all. But we are older.” He took proper notice as I slung one overstuffed backpack over my shoulders, and held the sagging old one I’d used in first grade. “Geez, what all are you bringing?”

            “Just the basics,” I assured with a facetious shrug. “Can you not tell your friends about this, Riv? They’d definitely bring it up next time we’re all together. And you know how Edmond can get. He’s still not ready to let me and Leese visit again.”

            “No problem,” he said and followed me back out into the living room. “You know me, Maze. I got your friends’ backs. We do all hang out sometimes.”

            “Have fun at your sleepover,” Mom told me from the table where she was eating lunch. She was treating this one like it was any other. “Call if you need anything.”

            “Mom, don’t you think it’s a little odd, though?” Olive asked from the couch.

            “Oh, honey, it’s no big deal. You had friends who were boys at her age.”

            “But… Never mind. Don’t worry, Maze. We won’t have too much without you.”

            “You ready, kiddo?” Dad asked, standing with his keys by the door. “Think you got enough stuff? What are you three planning to do tonight, go out bowling?”

            “Funny, Dad,” I huffed, my body already aching. “It’s nothing big, don’t worry.”

            He did the gentlemanly thing and took one of my bags before we headed down, which I probably needed. After our waves goodbye, we went to ground level, through the door, and descended our stoop. Edmond was already waiting there for us, wearing a much lighter backpack and looking unenthused as Dad walked off to get the car.

            “I can’t believe you got me to do this. As soon as things get weird, I’m bailing.”

            “Eddie, it’s going to be a perfectly normal sleepover. Even though, I guess—”

            “I’ve never had one, I know. Nothing to compare to it to.” He let out a lengthy moan after we heard Dad’s car start. “As long as it’s a nice, quiet night… maybe I’ll stay.”

            “Oh, hello Maisy and Edmond!” Liesel’s mom greeted us at the door and let us in. “Leese is really excited about today. She’s playing with Theo in the living room.”

            “Thanks for having us over,” I replied graciously as Edmond and I hung up our jackets on the coatrack—she was always generous with the heat in the old townhouse.

            “Of course! You’re both always welcome here. But please stay out of the studio today; I have a little ditty to finish for a local business’s commercial, and it’s a good one.”

            “At least it’s nice and toasty,” Edmond said, a little nervous all of a sudden. “As long as we stay inside where it’s warm all day… Maybe this won’t be so bad.”

            Sheesh, Eddie, way to keep laying it on. If I didn’t know better, you were already in on the plan and trying your hardest to guilt trip us out of it. I wasn’t sure yet when we were going to get him in the loop, but it’d probably be at the end of a long, normal day.

            Liesel’s living room audio equipment rivaled my parents’, and its big speakers were pumping out a They Might be Giants album at a modest volume. She was playing the kid-friendly music to entertain Theo, at least in her mind, as she was “helping” her toddler brother dance on the shaggy white rug. Of course, he had no idea what was going on or why he was being swayed, but if big sis liked it, it had to be right.

            “Eddie, look at him go!” Liesel said over the music with a laugh as he stood under the threshold arch, nonplussed. “See, it’s okay! We got an equal number of boys to girls. My mom doesn’t count. Hey, come over here and dance with Theo.”

            “I very much will not,” he adamantly refused. Needing to change the subject to anything else, he looked around the room and asked, “Is this where I’ll be sleeping?”

            “Sleeping?! Who cares about that right now? We got a full day ahead of us!”

            She looked at my two big bags, and asked a question with her eyes so Edmond had nothing to pick up on. I gave her a thumbs-up, and she responded with a smile.

            “Okay, Theo. Let’s get you back in your playpen,” she told him, and lifted the boy up with some effort. Once he was with his toys and safe from dancing, Liesel got the ball rolling with a question. “You guys wanna go up to my room before lunch?”

            “Not really,” Eddie said, and I had the random thought that he was probably expecting some kind of ‘Pink Pony Club.’ “Can’t we just hang out down here instead?”

            “Eddie, you haven’t even seen my room. I borrowed my dad’s Sega. You can help hook it up.” She smirked. “I saw your mouth twitch. You can’t hide your excitement.”

            Liesel’s room had neutral colors and her doll and pony collection stayed on their display shelves, so Eddie seemed to tolerate it well enough. He got the Sega plugged in within thirty seconds, and I could tell that he was a little impressed; she was one of those lucky kids that had her own TV, VCR, and, at least for tonight, game system. The two got to playing some Sonic the Hedgehog 2, with Edmond fine with being the fox.

            Eventually, with the sunlight hitting the TV and washing out the colors, I got up and took a look outside Leese’s single bedroom window, down into the townhouse’s tiny backyard where an old grill sat and not much else. Past her fence were the bigger, low-rent apartment buildings of the city. There was a time when I spent about one night a week here; sleepovers at my place were much less common. It was so strange to see Edmond in a warm familiar space that was never my own, but felt like it came close. Sure, he’d been let in, yet he still seemed like an invader violating something sacred. If original timelines could be considered a concept that should remain immutable.

            I had a plan, but not a step-by-step list to get there. I was stumbling about in a messy waltz, and maybe that was okay. I believed adults overthought and over-planned things, and one of the reasons we’re happier as kids is because we let unpredictably find us, soak it in, and feel like our lives are guided by something too great to worry about. I thought about these things as I watched Edmond and Liesel play their games—the two of them, with my help, unknowingly forging a new path and reality through old times.

            Liesel made us all peanut butter, jelly, and honey sandwiches for lunch. We went to the park afterwards, and then her mom took the five of us to Beethoven’s 2nd, which Theo seemed to love since the St. Bernard found a lady dog and had puppies. Ridiculous movie, but I’ll admit that I rented it way too often when I was a kid the first time.

            “Edmond, I hope you’re okay with Domino’s,” our host said that evening as she brought over two boxes of just-delivered pizza. “I’m not sure if yours is a Pizza Hut kind of family, or only gives money to a local chain like Cosmo’s, or makes it yourself.”

            “I’m fine with any pizza, Ms. Ottakar,” he said and poured himself some Pepsi.

            “Polite, aren’t you?” she replied and put the pizza on the lovely dining table. “I was starting to think I wouldn’t hear you say a word today. How are they treating you?”

            “Good, I guess…” he murmured and was handed a slice of cheese as Liesel and I helped ourselves. “They make fun of us sometimes for hanging out, but we get along.”

            “He’s being dramatic, Mom,” Liesel sighed. “That barely ever happens.”

            “I hope you don’t let Leese pressure you into doing things you don’t want to,” her mom remarked. “I know she can be a bit of a… let’s say adventurous girl.”

            “Mom!” she exclaimed. “Don’t embarrass me! I don’t like boredom, that’s all.”

            “Yes, honey, I know. But you can be a little bossy sometimes. That’s why I tell all your friends that they can say no to you, and you won’t stop being friends because of it.”

            I stifled a chortle that came out as a snort. Liesel’s blushing only further affirmed that it was true. But as I ate, I did worry about what the “no” option meant for tonight.

            Edmond was already nodding off by the time the movie was ending at around ten that night. We watched it downstairs; me and Leese on the couch while he stayed on his sleeping bag. Ms. Ottakar was still up, which meant we had some time to kill.

            As the rock-loving dudes with a public access show, Wayne and Garth, spoke to the audience over the credits from their basement shooting location, Eddie turned and looked up at us so he could tiredly ask, “What the heck was that movie even about?”

            “There’s an anti-corporate message, and maybe something about being loyal to your friends, but otherwise… not much,” I answered. “And that can be okay.”

            “I mean, I’ve seen the Saturday Night Live skits, and don’t really get their whole thing there, either. I totally see why Maze’s family likes all the music references, but was that entire Bohemian Rhapsody part really needed? Some of it was funny, though.”

            “Wow, Eddie, your parents let you stay up and watch that?” Liesel replied.

            “Sure. Your mom doesn’t? I’d be up for watching it tonight, but I’ll probably fall asleep first, so…” he yawned, “might as well just go to bed right now.”

            “Er, Edmond?” I spoke up first after Liesel and I looked at each other. “Actually, there’s one last… kind of big thing we wanted to do tonight, and we’ll need your help.”

            “It’s getting pretty late. We’ve done everything already. What else is there?”

            “Believe it or not, we want to sneak out, break into the school playground, get in the old shed, and set up a secret hideout club where we listen to music and eat candy.”

            He just stared at us. It was impossible to tell if he thought we were joking, but it didn’t look good. He opened his mouth, but then Ms. Ottakar shouted from the stairs that it was time for everyone to get some sleep. Edmond instead chose to stay silent.

            “Guess we’ll just have to do it without him,” Liesel said quietly about an hour later as she buttoned up her jacket. “It’ll make it tougher to get everything there, but to be fair, we never should’ve expected he’d…” she was cut off by a knock on the door.

            I opened it to find Eddie standing there, already also fully dressed. We didn’t know what to say at first, and he just took in the sight of our seriousness about the mission… and the old stereo, lawn chair, and giant beanbag Liesel had gathered.

            “You two are for real, huh? You actually want to sneak out and make a club.”

            “I thought you’d just see the whole thing as crazy,” Liesel replied.

            “Oh, it is crazy. But, know what? I thought it over down there, and I realized that I really want a new place to hide and chill at recess. Others have discovered my tires.”

            Needing to confirm his decision, I asked, “Are you sure you’re up for this? We’re going to have to take turns in there. You won’t be able to hang out in it every day.”

            He shrugged with his hands in his pockets. “Fine with me. As long as other kids know I helped make it. Then maybe they’ll stop calling me ‘antisocial’ and ‘weird.’”

            “They call you those things?” Liesel frowned. “I’ve… never heard it myself.”

            “It’s only when I’m alone. So, uh, how do we get in the playground, anyway?”

            “Rented a key from Cass,” I said and gave my zippered jacket pocket a pat.

            “Eddie, grab one of Maze’s backpacks and the lawn chair,” Liesel ordered. “I got the beanbag and boombox. We have a few city blocks to cover, but it’s townhouses the whole way. As long as we avoid people, and… hide behind trees or bus shelters if a cop car passes by, we should make it. It’s only a mile or so the school.”

            “You’ve never gone out at night before, have you?” he asked and took the stuff.

            “Have you?” Liesel replied and pulled up her raggedy 1980s stereo by the handle.

            “Why don’t you let me lead the way? I’ve snuck around in the dark a few times.”

            Without giving us a backstory, he crept down the stairs with us as to not wake up the house’s toddler and mom. He stopped at the front door upon noticing the set alarm system, but Liesel knew the combination to shut it off. She then gestured for us to go out the back instead, so we skulked through the kitchen, she opened the rear door as quietly as she could, and we went down the stoop into her backyard. It was an overcast night and pretty dark out, though the clouds caught enough of the city lights to blanket the area in a soft glow. We let our eyes finish adjusting before exiting via the side gate.

            Aside from some bars and real clubs, the Royal Valley of the 90s wasn’t known for its night life, and it was certainly no Chicago. It was 11:30, past even Club Clamor’s Saturday night hours in the 2040s. Most of the townhouses around us still existed then as well, and while I never lived in any of them, I still drove on the familiar streets daily.

            We went down the narrow alley carrying our gear, going past trash, utility poles, some bike racks, and the other backyard opposite Liesel’s fence. The main road past the block of townhouses was even more dead than I expected it to be. You had that typical inner-city thing with a few people just hanging out on their stoops late into the night, and now and then a car or taxi would pass by, but it was otherwise still and quiet.

            “This really is crazy,” Liesel suddenly fretted a few blocks down the road. “Why are we doing this? Why’d I agree to it? I even encouraged you to make this club, Maze.”

            “Leese, calm down,” Edmond murmured. “We’re doing fine. What’d you expect sneaking out near midnight to be like? We can’t wuss out now—Maisy already spent a good chunk of money on renting that key. Should she give it back after not even using it? I want a club, too. We can’t just sneak this stuff into recess on a school day.”

            A car approached with its high beams on, and we all scrambled to get behind one of the bus shelters until it had passed us by. Liesel did not like being talked down to.

            “I wasn’t expecting it to be this scary out, Edmond!” she huffed back. “And how the heck do you know Cass has a key to the playground, anyway?”

            “N-no reason,” he muttered back. “You just… hear rumors, you know?”

            “Whatever! If we’re really doing this, the sooner we get back, the better!”

            “Princess Liesel can’t get caught sneaking out, is that it? My life will be ruined!”

            “Guys, not now,” I sighed before Leese could retort. “Focus. We’re doing fine.”

            If ever I could just tell them I had the power to undo any mistake, this would be the time. All I had to show off to them was the cool confidence the ability bestowed.

            But Edmond had that, too, and I let him get back to leading the way. We crossed Prospect and went down a long alleyway that ran between the taller apartment buildings. I half-expected to hear glass breaking and cats shrieking like nighttime ambience in the movies, but it was really just us, some barking dogs, and echoing light traffic noise.

            Navigating the chilly air under thinly-spread streetlights, we reached Royal Valley Elementary’s building sooner than expected. Seeing your school at night felt forbidden.

            “That’s RVE?” Liesel whispered as we stared at the illuminated building from across the busier and bigger street that ran in front of it. “I barely recognize the place.”

            “Yeah, I know—it’s so weird,” Eddie groaned. “Can we keep going? My arms are getting tired holding this stupid chair. After that street sweeper passes, we cross.”

            We stuck to the shadows until the big noisy vehicle had gone by, and then ran across the road before anyone had a chance to notice us. My heart was beating so fast by this point from a thrilling mix of fear and excitement, no doubt rendering my time skip powers inaccessible. If we got caught, they’d definitely be out of action until morning.

            Everyone knew of the gate between the back of the building and the fence that kept us locked up in the playground, out by the dumpsters where our school wouldn’t ever make a club. We went down the bordering alleyway and arrived at it, where I took out the borrowed key with a shaky hand. I’d never do the things Charlie was out there doing, but I had to admit, I now understood the feeling of being bad through the gift to make time a plaything. If the plan needed a redo, I could start it all over from Liesel’s.

            My partners in crime held their breaths as I stuck the key into the padlock, and though it took some effort due to rust and disuse, my little hand managed to turn the key and pop off the lock. The gate swung outward on its hinges, granting us access.

            “Wow. It actually opened,” Liesel said at a normal volume. “It’s strange, seeing the gate like this. How long do you think it’s been since it got used? Ten years? Fifty?”

            “Don’t be dramatic,” Edmond moaned. “It’s probably opened once a week. Let’s go inside and close it before anyone notices. We’re lucky there’s no cameras around.”

            We proceeded past the gate, shutting it behind us. As we walked past the trash bins and inactive primary HVAC unit, Liesel shifted position with the stuff she was carrying and whispered, “Is it just me, or is Eddie acting a little… unusual?”

            “He seems to be more ‘in the zone’ than usual, maybe,” I replied. “But, thinking back, there’s always been some things he’s had a weird confidence about.”

            What was truly weird was seeing our good old familiar playground both empty and in the dim darkness of the late night. It had transformed from a sun-bathed, hot, loud wonderland full of energy to something from a half-forgotten nostalgic dream.

            “It’s so… spooky…” Liesel said as we drew closer to the equipment. She suddenly dropped all her stuff and ran towards the fort just then, shouting, “Hold on a sec, guys!”

            “Leese, what the heck are you doing? We got a job to do!” Edmond yelled, and I suddenly realized that he was actually treating all this in an overly serious way.

            “One lap on the fort near midnight!” she yelled back as she climbed the ladder. “Don’t deny me this memory, Eddie. When will I get to do this again?”

            “Just… hurry up,” he huffed. “It’s not that special.”

            We stood back and watched Liesel’s shadowy form speed-walk across the fort, go over its bridge, and come down its slide. I don’t know what it meant for her, us, or the rest of our grade, but she did it and certainly left the two of us with a memory, too.

            “Got that out of your system?” Edmond asked with his usual flat inflection.

            “Ah…” she sighed contentedly. “Sure. We better use a flashlight to get to the shed. The trees on the way there are gonna make it even darker, you know.”

            I obliged, taking out a small one from my jacket and giving her a beam—but I also teased her a little by suggesting, “Sure you aren’t just scared, Leese?”

            “N-no! We might get lost, is all. We can’t see in the dark like kitties can.”

            The light wasn’t powerful enough to hit the shed yet, but I knew the way in the dark and led the others. As we walked, I asked them, “Remember the Treasure Trove?”

            “Of course. I heard the news that it’s closing in a few months. I’ll miss it.”

            “I was just thinking how that was kinda the first place we all hung out together. If you still got that mini-piano, you could bring it, and play it in our club near a tip jar.”

            Edmond groaned. “Ugh, please no. And we have enough tipping here already.”

            With Eddie’s tires looking pretty creepy in the dark as we passed them on the right, we reached the old maintenance shed where our club waited to be created. I led them to the side that faced away from the school, and we dropped our things.

            “This is the panel,” I said, showing Eddie the metal square on the bottom corner. “It was a patch for a hole made who-knows-when. Most of the other screws except the top right one are in rotting wood and useless. All we need to open it up is a screwdriver. This small, cheap one here is good enough.” I took a little tool with a translucent plastic handle out my pocket. “Someone opens it, then locks it up before the bell rings.”

            “So… it’s like another key,” Eddie said. “Hurry up, Maze! I wanna see it!”

            I gave him the flashlight to hold, and got to work on the “lock” screw. It took just a few turns for it to loosen and fall out. I caught and pocketed it for safekeeping.

            The panel could then be swiveled on the axis of the lower left screw, which was stuck and stripped, to reveal a hole big enough for kids to crawl into. I got inside and helped move stuff in by pulling; the lawn chair was a tight squeeze, but fit diagonally. It took only five or so minutes to finish, at which point Eddie and Leese joined me.

            “It’s a little bigger than I thought,” Edmond said as he looked around with the flashlight. He then gave the wooden planks below a stomp, adding, “Good thing it still has a floor. I was expecting to sit in more dirt in here. And no rats. Leese, are those…”

            “Yep,” she said as she pulled out a strand of white Christmas lights. “It’s time we admit something, Eddie. Me and Maze came in here already, just before winter break to check it out. The only power it has goes to the old hanging light,” she pointed up to it, “but I have an adapter for the socket so we can run these instead. Much cooler, right?”

            He hardly cared that we’d beaten him here, and helped get things set up. But we didn’t need to get the club perfect tonight; we could finish up during recess on Monday.

            We set up the beanbag and stereo, took everything out of our backpacks, and Leese used the foldout lawn chair to reach the dangling bulb. She removed the dusty light, plugged in some Christmas magic, and turned on the little whites. For now, we left them dangling straight down, and relaxed on our furniture while Eddie sat in the corner.

            “We’ll need some milk crates for the stereo,” Liesel said, her eyes entranced by and reflecting the dozens of lights. “Should be easy enough to grab from the trash area.”

            As I tiredly sighed and stretched in the beanbag chair, Eddie looked away from the shed’s sole window, which was boarded up from the outside, and bit his lower lip.

            “I, um… I have something to admit, too,” he said. “Remember all those pranks we were blaming on East Haven? They were… actually done by me. I looked up what a ‘false flag’ was and got inspired. I snuck onto the playground at night and set them up.”

            “Seriously?!” Liesel choked out in surprise. “Why would you do all that?”

            Edmond blushed and turned sheepish. “It’s stupid. I’ll tell you… a little about it, if you promise not to pass it around. I have my reasons, but like I said, they’re dumb.”

            “I’m surprised you pulled them off, Eddie,” I said. “It’s actually kind of badass.”

            “Don’t say that.” He covered his eyes in shame. “I got a grudge I can’t let go of.”

            “I know we just arrived, but we should get back. Talk about it on the way?”

            He reluctantly replied, “Sure… Walking in the dark might make it easier for me.”

 
            January 9^th, 1994. The day after the sleepover. Back in my own cozy bedroom.

            Edmond’s confession hit like a bombshell, no joke. Even with the hints he was dropping (intentionally or otherwise), I… did not see that coming. I had certainly never found out the truth on my last run when we weren’t friends. The way I remember it, the pranks just sort of petered out, and no one cared enough to ask questions, and definitely not enough to start some kind of “war” with East Haven Elementary. I’m curious what changed. It’d be easy to say from just being buddies with Eddie, but I get the impression he's something of a risk taker deep down and had some mad respect for our club stunt.

            He's got a good sense of direction, too. I honestly thought we were going to get lost on the way back to Liesel’s, but, nope. He naturally led us home, even while telling us a little more about his beef with the school. Though he never experienced their real pranking before, he was aware of the genuine feuds that came before us, which fueled his distrust of its students. But on a personal level, it turns out there’s a kid who goes there that “did him dirty” some time ago. “Betrayal” was a word he emphasized. No names yet, no backstory given. Compared to before, it’s a lot of progress, though.

            I wonder if he ended up holding onto that hatred along with the truth of his pranking originally. It’s not healthy to carry a shoulder chip for so long. Poor guy.

            On the subject of sleep, something I need to note and remind myself of: there seems to be a benefit to not skipping it. Whenever I jump out of Old Maze, it leaves her confused. If I skip just an hour, the daze lingers, and I remember what she does. There’s a worrying effect at play here where she’s aware that she isn’t quite in control of her own actions, because they were mine. She can’t explain it, but I can’t imagine she enjoys it.

            Sleep, however, provides a six to eight hour “buffer” period that really softens that blow. When I wake up in the morning, I’m free to jump ahead again and she suffers no such mild affliction. The things I did the previous day feel more natural, without that uncanny… I almost want to say quasi-spiritual-possession vibe. I can still jump in and out when I need to, but the more out of my old character I act, the more it hits her. I wish Charlie had told me about this, but maybe he’d been too reckless to even notice.

            I’m sticking around for a while, anyway. Tomorrow, I have a club to set up.

            With the sun coming through the window and casting glare on my dim computer monitor, I double-checked my latest entry, saved it, ejected the floppy, and left home—grabbing my skateboard on the way. Monday was going to be busy. For now, I had the rest of a weekend to enjoy, and writing had eaten into a bit of my hangout time with the whole crew. No doubt I’d already missed some regaling of last night.

            Eddie and Leese knew not to spoil the surprise just yet, though.

            I arrived at the big park to see the other five waiting for me, all munching on chips or fruit snacks as they hung out on a retaining wall. Hayden and Adelina wrapped up some laughter from something Liesel must’ve said, and everyone turned to me as I rolled up. Even Eddie was wearing the subtlest of smirks today; a good improvement.

            “Yo, Maze!” Hayden called out when I was a little closer. He wiped his greasy fingers on a napkin and said, “Leese told me about your late-night hang sesh.”

            “That’s what he calls a sleepover,” Adelina said with a friendly eye roll.

            “Well, it sounds pretty cool. It’s good for Edmond to come out of his shell a bit like that. We’re all seriously proud that he didn’t call a parent and chicken out.”

            “He should invite me over for your first sleepover at his place,” Quincy offered. “I’m good at sleeping. If I ever make him feel awkward, or I’m breaking his rules, he can just tell me to go to bed, and I gladly will. Couch, floor… Bathroom floor. Wherever.”

            “Don’t make it weird, Quince,” Eddie grumbled and crossed his arms. “Look, it was… fine. And surprisingly normal. Not much different than staying at my cousins’.”

            “Hey! That means you were lying!” Adelina said. “You have had a sleepover!”

            “With family! It’s way different! And they’re younger than me. Not the same thing.”

            “Have you three done them?” Liesel asked the other trio with a tilt of her head.

            “Heh, sure,” Hayden replied. “It was just me and Quince at first, but now we’ve all had them together, at each of our places. Ady’s sisters and their fights are funny. But Quincy’s brother is kind of… a loser, to be honest. Sorry man, no offense.”

            Quincy shrugged. “I mean, it’s mostly the truth. Now and then, he can be cool.”

            “It took some convincing first with my dad to let me do it,” Adelina noted. “But, look, if you’re around a bunch of screaming girls all day, a break is totally reasonable. So, it’s probably not as weird or rare as ya thought, huh? Uh, Maze? Why are you grinning?”

            “Oh… you’ll find out in about twenty-four hours,” I replied, a little too giddily.