Chapter 6: The Choice

10

After taking the ‘supplement’, for at least an hour, I am safe. I could induce vomiting. But then I would fail making varsity again, and after being exposed, I would surely die. But what does successful varsity really mean? Damn it. I absolutely dare not let myself ‘succeed at making varsity’.

I watched Marcus shake his empty water bottle, lazily saying, “Hey rookie, hurry up and make varsity and go pro. The world will be completely different after varsity.”

His face was handsome and sincere. You couldn’t tell he was a cold-blooded killer who wiped out entire towns.

I felt a wave of irritation, nodded absently, went to Coach to get the supplement, took it in front of them, then returned to my dorm, left myself a note, then set up a pocketknife, adjusted the ejection angle, and tried to tie my own hands.

I wanted to try… making varsity.

I set up the pocketknife, hands shaking so bad I almost dropped it. The vending machine hummed in the hall, a weird comfort in the dark. I thought of Maple Heights, thinking of what I’d become.

11

The sixth hour: My stomach had started to writhe in pain. Cold sweat dripped from my forehead, and my vision blurred. There were complicated, noisy sounds buzzing in my ears.

My aunt handed me a bundle with one hand, smiling gently: “Tommy, the road ahead is long. I made you new clothes.”

My uncle closed his eyes and patted my head: “Take care of yourself. Don’t worry about the town.”

I saw outside Maple Heights, at the sign with the town name, crowds of familiar people sending me off, all telling me to be careful on the road.

Huh? Strange: Was my aunt one-armed? When did my uncle become blind?

Suppressing my doubts, I walked halfway, turned to look, they were still smiling and waving. I instinctively kept walking.

I don’t know how much time passed; after walking through ominous gray mist, I looked up and was at the town entrance again.

“Tommy, the road ahead is long. I made you new clothes.” Aunt used a multi-petaled hand to hold out the clothes. Black veins pulsed, suckers soaking the white fabric. Uncle opened all his eyes, patted my head: “Take care of yourself. Don’t worry about the town.” All over his body, more than seven hundred eyes looked kindly at me, smiling.

“In uncle’s eyes, you’ve always been a child. Remember playing whack-a-mole when you were little?”

Oh, I remember now: When I was little, I poked his eyes for fun, like playing whack-a-mole. If I poked an open eye, I could dig out the eyeball. Thinking this, I once again reluctantly turned and left. The gaze behind me was loving, but I actually felt… afraid to look back.

A U.S. childhood memory flickered through my mind: 'Remember when you caught fireflies in Mason jars out back?' she said, voice sweet and wrong. I wanted to scream.

The thirteenth hour: Outside the window, the wind chimes chimed softly in the wind. Ding ding ding—Ding ding ding ding ding ding ding, ding, ding ding

I tilted my head, looking at the dark sky outside. Thick juice poured down from the sky.

Each ding echoed in my skull, like someone tapping a spoon on a glass at a wedding.

I said: “The chime rang nineteen times.”

Ding ding, ding ding ding ding

I said: “The chime rang nineteen times.”

“The chime rang nineteen times.”

“The chime rang seven thousand nine hundred and thirty-eight times.”

I paused, then suddenly said: “Who are you?”

My voice felt strange and distant, echoing off the cinderblock walls. I wondered if I was talking to myself or something else entirely.