“What are you doing?” Mr Fisher’s voice boomed down the hillside. “I told you, that animal is dangerous!”
Milo looked up at his father who was peering down from the road. “Dad, wait, you’ll scare it!”
But it was too late. Fisher was already barrelling down the slope. “Get away! GO!” he shouted, waving his arms.
Panicking, the deer reared and staggered across the shallow beach towards the water’s edge.
Mr Fisher slid to the base of the hill and helped Milo to his feet. “What happened?” he asked. “Did it charge at you?”
“No, I’m fine.” Milo glanced back to see the animal plunging into the lake. Oh no. Deer can’t swim, can they?
Father and son watched as the stag swam out towards the centre of the broad body of water. It appeared to be heading for a small mist-shrouded island about as big as the Fisher family’s eight-bedroom lodge.
That island’s too far away. Milo’s heart sank. It will never make it!
His worries were justified. After a minute, the stag appeared to be in distress, its head dipping under the water again and again. Was it simply struggling to swim? To Milo, it almost looked like something was trying to pull it under…
Hands behind his head, Milo watched as the animal’s magnificent pale antlers suddenly disappeared into the deep, leaving nothing but a faint swell on the inky water.
It did not resurface.
Milo released the breath he’d been holding. It was gone. There was nothing he could do.
Mr Fisher cleared his throat. “It wouldn’t have survived anyway, son,” he said, gently. “That’s just the way of the world. These things happen.”
But it only happened because you crashed into it. “I think we should make a donation to a wildlife sanctuary in its honour,” said Milo.
Fisher chuckled. “Sure.” He pulled his son close. “I was a bit of a hippy at your age, too. Don’t worry, you’ll grow out of it.” He gave him a squeeze. “It’s you and me, kid. Us against the world. Same as always.”
“Right,” Milo replied. “Same as always.”
Is it, though?
They stood quietly as the rising sun slowly burned the morning mist off the lake. Briefly, Milo thought he saw a large dark shape under the water’s surface where the stag had disappeared. It was too big to be the deer, though. Must be the shadow of a cloud…
“Come on,” said Fisher. “Murl will be here any minute with a tow truck. Shall we get you home?”
“Just take me to school.”
“You sure?” said Fisher.
“No,” said Milo. “I’m not.” Without another word, he trudged back up the ridge, gripping fistfuls of dirt as he climbed.
Fisher followed close behind, keeping his hands free in case his son slipped.
Behind them, off in the distance, a songbird darted over the water, then dipped down to pluck a floating insect. In a flash, a dark, slimy tentacle emerged from the murky depths. It gripped the bird and hungrily snapped it underwater, leaving nothing but a flutter of loose feathers on the steamy surface of Black Hole Lake.
Party Pooper
“NuqneH!” Tex greeted Lucy in Klingon from his front door. He pounded the plastic chain-link sash across his chest.
His forehead was covered in a ridged prosthetic complete with a black ponytailed wig. He wore a set of snaggly yellowish fake teeth that made him talk funny. It was an impressively detailed Halloween costume.
“Live long and prosper.” Lucy held out her hand, her fingers splayed uncomfortably in the classic Star Trek “V”. With her other hand, she scratched the latex folds on the bridge of her nose. Her mother had moulded and painted the piece, then glued it to Lucy’s face for the evening’s festivities. Lucy’s purple hair was slicked back, secured with a thick orange headband that matched her sweater.
Tex shook his head. “That is what Vulcans say. You do not look like a Vulcan, Lucille.”
“I’m a Bajoran.” Lucy shook the dangling jewelled earring on her left ear. “Obviously.”
“What do Bajorans say?”
“Let me in or I’ll lead an insurrection against your house?”
Tex stepped aside and gestured for her to enter. The crackle of frying pierogi welcomed Lucy to the Arkhipov household.
After dinner, they planned to head two houses down to the Halloween party at Joey Peluso’s place. Joey was a star soccer player and one of the most popular kids in Lucy’s grade. They ran in different social circles, which may as well be different planets. Getting an invite to his party was one of the few perks of Lucy’s mother being the school science teacher, in charge of grades and therefore destinies. Still, Lucy would have been happy to skip the party in favour of watching the latest horror flick at the cineplex. Except for one thing…
“Do you think Feesh will be at the party?” Tex asked wistfully as they entered the kitchen.
“Who? Milo Fisher?” Lucy scratched her head. “Why would I know?”
She did know. She had overheard Amy Overwhig talking to Jaimie Johnson about Milo in the girl’s bathroom. Apparently, Amy thought he was the best-looking guy in school. Not that it’s a high bar. It’s probably because he showers daily.
“Do I smell onions?” Lucy said, taking a seat at the round kitchen table.
“Onions, cheese, potatoes and dough,” said Tex’s mother, Anna. She picked a few dumplings out of the pan and set them on a plate to cool. “All four major food groups for you, my dear.”
“Lucita!” Tex’s father Serge had just arrived home from work at the deli he ran downtown. He slapped Lucy on the back, hard enough her glasses slid down her nose. “Long time no see, kidushka.” He pulled his trousers up over his belly and grabbed a steaming pierogi from the plate, juggling it from one hand to another before tossing it back. “Too hot,” he winced.
Anna shooed him away and put the plate on the table for Lucy and Tex. “It is good to see you, Lucy dear. Where have you been hiding?”
Tex
