Chapter 7

A Dreadful Disappointment

The Destiny Fair was always a big deal. The sights, the sounds and the smells of the fairgrounds were too in-your-face to ignore. As a matter of fact, you could feel the excitement building from a mile away. I know this because that is precisely how far away we had to drive before Emily found a parking spot. Yup, there was no missing the fair—it was an electric event.

Once a year, for seventeen days and sixteen nights, the quiet northern valley of Destiny was turned inside-out into the brightest, loudest, assault-your-senses destination you could ever possibly dream up. People would travel from far and wide to take part in the annual traditions that made our fair one of the largest of its kind. It had all the charm of your typical county fair petting zoo and giant pumpkin-growing contests, paired with the sophistication of cutting-edge amusement park thrill rides. As we scurried toward the ticket booth, I found myself lagging behind the entourage of girls Emily had assembled to join her for the occasion. All the right girls had been gathered—planned weeks in advance, no doubt—in order to ensure her popularity at school was kept at a high level. We were still standing in line for admission and they were already discussing which boys they wanted to find first. Fun, fun, fun….ugh!

Don’t get me wrong, normally being the only guy in a group of girls wasn’t a bad gig, especially with the quality of girls Em had selected. In fact, if I worked it right it could be a real popularity booster, I supposed. The thought crossed my mind that I was passing up a golden opportunity—one most guys would die to be a part of. I quickly pushed the thought aside. I had other plans tonight. With my new pet hidden safely in my backpack, I was determined to prove to Stretch and Stubbs once and for all that Solandria was entirely real and not just some fantasy story I had dreamed up. The creature was all the proof I needed.

As we waited in line, I found my mind wandering back to the mysterious letter. Petrov’s message sounded so desperate, so urgent. From what I could gather from the letter, things seemed to be getting worse in Solandria which only made me long to return all the more quickly. This was the first real bit of information I had received since my return. How could I ignore it? Then again, Petrov’s message had said the Author would make a way when the time was right…so, maybe some good old-fashioned distraction was exactly what I needed to get my mind off things for the moment.

“Tickets, please,” the attendant at the counter said in a decidedly bored voice. I flashed my school ID and she waved me through with free admission. The girls and I filed in through the Fountain Gate where Stretch and Stubbs had agreed to meet me. Now that I was inside, I scanned the crowds for any sign of the guys. From the looks of things, I was the first one to arrive.

“You sure you don’t need someone to hang back until they come, little brother?” Emily chided me, half-asking and half-trying to make me look silly in front of her friends.

The courtyard clock indicated I was actually a few minutes early for once.

“Nah, you go on…I’ll catch up later,” I replied, trying to sound as cool as possible. It was exactly what she had hoped to hear. Without another word Emily whipped around and disappeared into the fair, taking her gaggle of girlfriends with her.

I walked the loop around the fenced fountain in hopes of spotting the guys. It would have been easier if there weren’t as many people already swarming around. Bumping my way through the traffic, I staked out an open spot on the bench that ringed the fountain and climbed up. I could see the whole courtyard from here. The fountain cycled through its choreography; nearby a carousel glided to its tune and a juggling performer rocked back and forth on his unicycle while balancing a bowling pin on his chin to a barrage of corny music and lack-luster applause.

“Well, little guy,” I said over my shoulder, “we’re definitely the first ones here, that’s for sure.”

“Friends?” the creature said softly, peeking out of the pouch at the colorful displays that surrounded us. He shrunk back into the pack just as quickly, overwhelmed by the lights that flooded the scene.

“Yeah, I’m sure they’ll be here. They’re probably just running a little late.”

The music blasting from the speakers of the stage performer suddenly took a decidedly ominous tone.

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for…” he paused for effect, allowing the perfectly timed audio track to deliver its setup before concluding his statement with a deep, goofy voice, “Flaming Death!”

A pre-recorded scream wailed, provoking nervous laughter among the crowd. With nothing better to do, I decided to stay put and watch his final routine. The daredevil juggling act concluded with the performer’s pants catching fire and a pair of stage hands dousing him with fire extinguishers as he rolled on the floor. In the end, it turned out to be a gimmick as he removed his pants to reveal a large pair of polka dotted underwear beneath them. The crowd roared their approval and dispersed back into the flow of traffic.

With still no sign of either friend, I took another turn around the fountain, this time stopping to grab some of the free samples vendors were offering to each passerby. In no time at all I gathered a half-dozen energy bars from the Boojum health food company, a pack of dental gum and an impressive collection of sticker advertisements. My favorite was the “Sm-MOO-oooth!” cow sticker for Dandy Dairy Farms. That one went on my jacket sleeve.

When I had four stickers running down both sleeves from successive loops around the fountain, I finally resorted to dropping a quarter in one of the coin-operated BIGfoot massage chairs near the gate. I was getting bored.

Why couldn’t my friends just be here when I needed them?

“Thirty-two minutes late and counting. Unbelievable!” I sighed out loud, as the vibrating foot massager came to a halt. I pulled out one of the Boojum All-Natural snack bars from the side pocket of my backpack and glanced over the label. The slogan on the front read, “Tastes so good, it can’t be bad for you.”

Yeah, right, I thought in disbelief.

I tore the end of the package open with my teeth and broke off a piece of the grainy goodness for my furry friend.

“Here ya go, little guy; I got you a snack,” I said, tossing it into the bag.

There was a ferocious crackling and munching sound as the creature tore into his new meal. Apparently, he liked Boojum a lot. I tossed in another piece, much to the satisfied moans and crunching of the hidden creature.

“Num, num, num!” it smacked happily, making so much noise it caught the attention of the plump man seated next to me. He turned and eyed my bag suspiciously. I smiled back and with a shrug of indifference took a bite myself in hopes of hiding the fact that there was something in my bag. The man stood up, raised an eyebrow and walked away, shaking his head.

The bar was everything I had imagined—crunchy, bitter and so not good! It tasted like edible cardboard with a few cranberries thrown in for good measure—definitely not my kind of snack. I was just about to spit the first bite onto the cement walkway when the vendor who had given it to me walked past. Not wanting to look like an idiot, I faked a smile and waved the bar at her as she glanced my way.

Unfortunately, she confused the gesture to mean I wanted more and ended up giving me another bag of bars on the spot. I forced myself to swallow what was in my mouth and thanked her as she walked away.

With a bad taste in my mouth and an equally foul mood, I shoved the remainder of the bar into the backpack.

“Here, eat this and keep quiet!” I whispered.

As I considered my options to redeem the night, a bank of payphones next to the restrooms caught my eye. That was just what I needed. I could ring Stubbs on his cell phone and find out what had been keeping them. Scooping up my bag, I walked over to the payphone. I emptied my pants pockets and was pleased to find I still had enough change to make the call. I lifted the receiver, dropped in the coins and dialed Stubbs’ number from memory.

“C’mon, Stubbs, pick up!” I muttered as it rang.

Three rings later his voice mail answered. “Hello, it’s me; you know what to do!” His simple recorded message ended with a short “beep.” Since I’d already paid for the call, I decided leave a message.

“Hey, this is Hunter; I’ve been waiting by the fountain. Where are you guys? Hurry up!”

I slammed the phone down on the receiver in frustration. It figures. The only time I need him to answer and he’s not near his phone. You’ve got to be kidding me!

I picked up the phone again and fished around in my coat pockets for any leftover change, despite the fact that I knew I was out of coins. Just then, my hand closed around something cold and familiar. I pulled out a gold pendant emblazoned with the Author’s mark and let it dangle lightly from the chain in front of me. Hope’s medallion.

In that moment, all the noise of the fairgrounds, even the dial tone in the phone, seemed to disappear under the sudden flood of emotions that filled me. Hope was my friend, the truest of friends. Even though her death had been my fault, she never blamed me for it. She accepted it as if it was meant to be. Hope had given me the medallion in Solandria just before she died, a gift to remind me that I was never alone.

Suddenly, a hand reached out of nowhere and snatched it from my grip. My stomach sank at the thought of losing my most prized possession. Dropping the phone, I turned to see who it was, ready to put up a fight. I was slightly relieved to find it was only Trista, my sister’s new best friend.

“Oooo, where’d ya win this?” she asked, blowing a bubble with her gum as she spoke. “Mind if I try it on?”

Before I could say no she had pulled it over her head and adjusted the chain to fall beneath her hair, which wasn’t pulled back in a ponytail as usual.

My muscles tensed at the sight of somebody else wearing the medallion. There was something wrong about it.

“So, how do I look?” she teased, striking a ridiculous pose.

“Annoying,” I snapped, thrusting my palm out. “Now give it back!” I hoped I hadn’t sounded as angry as I felt. Trista got the message and her once bubbly voice dropped to a lower tone.

“Ooookay, somebody’s clearly not having a good time,” she muttered in jest as she removed the necklace and placed it in my hand.

I slipped it back over my neck and tucked it safely under my shirt, feeling the urge to apologize for my attitude. “I’m sorry, it’s not you, it’s just that…”

“Fer-geda-bow-dit,” she tossed back playfully, making a quick recovery and punching me gently on the shoulder. “I would have been royally irked too if my friends had bailed on me.” Whipping out her raspberry-colored cell phone, Trista waved it at me with a pained expression on her face. “Got a message for ya. Stretch called!”

My stomach soured in anticipation of the worst. He had managed to avoid me at school today, and now he was ditching me again. I was beginning to get the idea we were no longer friends.

“Actually, he called your house earlier today, but your mom just found the voicemail. Bummer, huh?”

She explained that Stretch had caught the flu at school and couldn’t make it to the fair tonight, and Stubbs couldn’t come either because Stretch was his ride. I felt a little better knowing they hadn’t intentionally ditched me, but the end result was the same.

“Great, I’m on my own,” I sighed, contemplating what I would do for the rest of the night. “Thanks for the message anyway.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry ’bout that,” she said sympathetically.

I expected her to turn and head off, but she lingered a while, brushing her hair behind one ear. “Hey, listen, you know you could hang out with Em and the rest of us if you want.”

If by “the rest of us” she meant their group of girlfriends, I wasn’t all that interested. Then again, it beat being a loner.

“Sure,” I shrugged and motioned for Trista to lead the way.

As we walked Trista asked, “So, where did you really get the necklace?”

The question made me tense. Until tonight, I had kept it mostly a secret. The only people I had shown it to were Stretch and Stubbs back when I first tried to prove that Solandria was real. That didn’t help so I had been reluctant to show it to anyone ever since.

“Oh, it was just a gift…from a friend.” I tried to say it in a way that would leave it at that.

“Some friend,” she whistled. “What’s her name?”

“Her name? I never said it was a girl,” I said defensively.

Trista just gloated and gave me a light-hearted shove. “Puh-lease, like you needed to. I could tell by the way you were looking at it back there.”

It was a lucky guess, but I had to admit she was right.

“Her name was Hope,” I answered, quickly adding, “but it’s not what you’re thinking. It’s mostly special because…of what it means.”

“Really, so what does it mean?” she asked, blowing an oversized bubble with her gum and letting it pop. She sucked it back in before the slightest bit could stick to her face.

More than anything I wanted to speak up and tell her what I believed, but my knotted stomach was holding my tongue hostage. I was desperate to find any way to derail this train of conversation now that I knew my next stop was going to be “Loserville.”

“It’s a mark…er…a symbol from a book I found earlier this summer.”

“You mean the Author’s mark, right?” Trista’s matter-of-fact response was not what I was expecting at all.

“How do you know about the Author’s mark?” I ventured nervously, remembering the counselor’s warning about toning things down.

“C’mon, you didn’t think you were the only one, did you?” Trista said, casually pulling her hair back and sliding it into the rubber band she kept on her wrist.

“Well…yeah, actually,” I said in disbelief. Now I could hardly contain my excitement. Finally, someone I could open up with and talk to honestly about Solandria. Emily was going to flip when she realized Trista believed in the Author’s Writ too. “Oh man, this is awesome. You’re a Codebearer?”

“Not really, I’ve just heard about it. At least, whatever I could understand from some of my little cousins. I recognized the symbol on your medallion right away. They have this book called the Author’s Whit.”

“You mean Writ,” I corrected, suddenly feeling disappointed by my misunderstanding.

“Writ…right, whatever. Anyway, their family is really into the stories.”

“They’re not just stories,” I said half-heartedly, recalling what Sheppard had said earlier.

“I know,” she answered back, “there are riddles and symbols and stuff like that in there too. Don’t get me wrong…from the little I’ve read it’s all really mysterious and intriguing. But the way they talk about it, you’d think it was actually real…. Can you imagine believing in an unseen world of invisible beings?” Trista pressed further.

Before I had time to respond, there was a sudden rush of movement behind Trista. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a horde of spindly black arms overhead, lunging down on top of us.

“Look out, Dispirits!” I wailed, launching myself out in a tackle and pulling her to the ground to escape the oncoming attack. We landed with a splash in a shallow puddle of rain-water on the cement walkway, followed by a dozen of our multi-armed assailants.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Trista fumed, pushing me off of her in a state of confusion. A surprised group of onlookers gasped as I leaped to my feet with fists clinched tightly, ready to fight off my adversaries. You can imagine my embarrassment when I realized the “Dispirits” were nothing more than six-legged inflatable spiders, stacked in a tower that had just been inadvertently knocked over.

“Are you insane?” Trista demanded breathlessly as she picked herself up from the ground. “Balloon animals? You ruined my new skirt to save me from balloons? Ugh!” she fussed, picking up one shaped like a large hammer and whacking me over the head with it.

The gasps in the crowd turned quickly to chuckles. I would have apologized were it not for another commotion coming from the vendor’s booth beside us.

“C’mon, kid! Can’t you watch where you’re goin’?” a tattooed vendor scolded, hovering over a boy in a camouflaged jacket who had also fallen to the ground. The vendor quickly nodded my direction and threw out an apology.

“Sorry ’bout that folks. This doofus here decided not to watch where he was running and plowed straight into this here display of fine merchandise!”

He pointed to a selection of cheap trinkets that were probably better described as “toilet paper on a stick.” At least, that’s what my dad used to call it. There was nothing fine about it. The clumsy kid who had caused the trouble stumbled as he tried to pick himself up, nearly knocking over another display in the process. Apparently he was the one responsible for knocking over the tower of cheap-o balloon toys that had buried us.

“I-I’m so sorry. It was an accident…” the boy stuttered nervously.

Grabbing him roughly by the collar, the worker shoved him over to where the bizarre assortment of product lay strewn about next to Trista and me.

“Save it, kid. Just pick up my stuff and get out of here before I charge you for it.” The vendor turned his back and lumbered back to his post behind the small counter.

Not wanting to test the threat, the boy hastily set to work, but did a better job at dropping the products than he did at picking them up. As he pushed his black dreadlocks out of his eyes, I recognized his face immediately. It was the new kid from school.

“Rob, is that you?” I asked curiously.

He made no eye contact, only casting a brief glance at my face before returning to his task of cleaning up his mess. “Sorry, d-do I know you?” he questioned, looking nervously over his shoulder more than a few times. Something was bothering him.

“No, I guess not. I just recognized you from the hallway at school today. Weren’t you the one who knocked…over the…”

“Yup, that was me alright,” he said before I finished.

“Not your week, is it?” I pointed out.

Rob just shook his head and cast another look over his shoulder.

“You’re telling me, I’m still running from that Cranton dude. He’s determined to put me in the dunk tank since I didn’t get wet at school. The guy is brutal.”

“I know what you mean,” I said.

By this time Trista had managed to figure out what had really happened and let my little “Dispirit attack” blunder go unpunished. She returned to my side and joined in helping pick up the balloon animals.

“Don’t worry about Cranton,” she answered nicely. “Guys like him eventually get what they deserve. I just hope I’m there when he does.”

“Yeah well, I hope it happens sooner than later ’cause he’s headed this way,” I said, catching a glimpse of one of Cranton’s Cobras pointing at us from his perch atop a bench.

“Over here,” shouted the Cobra member. “It’s the dork and he’s with Hunter!”

“Good,” Cranton growled. “We’ll make it a double dunk!”

My stomach sank. After trying hard to stay out of Cranton’s way this year, I figured I deserved a break from his harassment. Now, it looked like I was doomed to be a target once again.

“Leave ’em, we gotta get out of here,” I shouted at Rob, who was still fumbling with a few plastic balloons. The three of us darted away, with Cranton and his pals hot on our trail.