A Hollow Dream of Summer's End (4 page)

And at worst? Well, Aiden didn't want to think of that. "Try not to look down," he shouted up to Brian.

"Sure it's safe?"

"Safe enough," Aiden answered.

"How safe is that?"

"Good enough for me."

"H'okay," Brian said, resuming his climb, every move calculated and precise. The last few rungs were a mad scramble, desperate and frightened, and he grabbed the grips on the edge of the hatch and disappeared inside.

Only Aiden remained, ascending slowly.

Then the wind picked up, only for a moment, and in that brief rustle of leaves Aiden turned his attention to the woods beyond the redwood. The brambles of oak and fir, the moss swaying in the breeze, the tangles of trees beyond.

The property was on the edge of an open space preserve, part of the greater glen that the foothills faded into. Roads and streams and trails wound their way through the folds of the preserves. Small unincorporated towns popped up here and there, gas stations and markets, a church or a real estate office. It was all uncharted territory to Aiden, the hills and streams and glens and woods and all the trails between. Hanging there on that ladder, looking out at the edge of his father's property, into the glow of the late afternoon, he realized that he'd been foolish not to visit sooner. That he'd done the one thing adventurers shouldn't do. He'd stopped venturing off the beaten path.

The wind picked up, carrying with it an odd call. It was a bird, he thought. Or perhaps an insect. A faint call, like a distant throat being cleared, followed by a clicking that that drifted through the otherwise silent breeze.

Hwooooooock-tick-tick-tick-tick-tick.

Moss shifted among the oaks. A distant bird shot up into the sky with a shriek.

“Dude, c’mon up,” Freddie called from above.

Aiden listened again but the sound never returned. The woods were quiet, still. Only the rustle of leaves in the wind; of moss in the breeze like tattered clothes on old, gnarled lines.

“Coming right up,” Aiden said, and continued up the rope ladder.

8.

“THIS WOULD MAKE A heck of a fort,” Brian said, leaning out the southern window of the treehouse. “Like, for cowboys and Indians. You could shoot arrows from up here.”

“What are you, seven?” Freddie asked. “We haven’t played that in years.”

“So? It was fun when we did,” Brian answered.

The treehouse did have the feel of a battlement. It was an octagon, four large sides that made up the main walls and four smaller sides that acted as corners. The main windows were large, double glass panes that slid open. There were even screens to keep out the insects. From the east side the window gave an excellent view of the acre of mowed grass between the house and the single redwood that stood in the otherwise barren lawn. To the west: the foothills and the oaks, Bloom Creek and the nameless folds of land among the preserve that flooded in the spring rains. To the south: the town, parts of Alder Glen and the university. To the north: the freeway and part of the old water tower poked up over the hills.

A great redwood pierced the center of the treehouse, supporting the entire structure. Shelves had been built into the trunk, space for a radio and some candles. Patches of bark had been peeled away like mange. The previous occupants had carved their initials:
MCB. + AAV
, and
Pike’s Posse.
Aiden wondered who Pike was, and what his posse was like. Were there three of them? The Amigos, as Brian’s dad called his own group of friends. Dumb, Dumber, and Dumbest?

Had Pike and his posse spent their summers up in the tree fort, thinking of fifth grade and the book reports they’d have to write? Or had they been older? The heart around the initials seemed to say so, like something a middle school kid would carve. Then again, Freddie had kissed two girls last year and hoped to ask Amy out at the end of August. Perhaps Pike and his posse had been Aiden’s age, which made him wonder: did he live at this house with one parent, or with two?

They passed the time playing their handheld video games, tossing insults at each other and switching games whenever a winner became too confident and the victories too many.

"Sometimes I wonder," Brian said during a lull on combat.

"Don't hurt yourself," Freddie quipped.

"Ha-freaking-ha, ass munch."

"Wonder what?" Aiden asked.

"Like, if our life isn't just a big va-va...a big video game. And someone else is controlling us. Maybe, like, that's why we get déjà-vu. Cause they're do-overs."

"Like checkpoints?" Aiden asked.

"Yeah. From saved games where we had to restart the level."

Silence. Then: "That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," Freddie laughed.

"Well, you're the dumbest thing I've ever seen," Brian replied. "So that makes us even."

"What are boss fights?" Aiden asked. “In this video game world.”

Brian considered it, smiled. "That's when Freddie's mom gets mad."

“Dude, dinner!” Freddie said, spotting Julie setting the pizza boxes on the patio table.

And like that Brian and Freddie raced for the ladder, the heavy boy sending the lanky one stumbling sideways, two kids scrambling to be first.

Julie’s voice carried across the yard as the two boys clambered for the ladder. “Supper, boys!”

But Aiden didn't care if he was first.

9.

“YOU'RE DISGUSTING," FREDDIE SAID. "You eat like a pig, anyone ever tell you that?"

Brian folded a slice of pepperoni over another slice of combination, squeezed, and bit down on the resulting pizza sandwich. Cheese, oil, some mushrooms and tomato sauce dripped between his fingers.

"Seriously, my dog has better manners."

“It’s easier this way,” Brian said between chews. “Plus you eat like a girl.” He held out a pinkie, holding his double slice like a dainty teacup. “Oh, my name is Fancy Freddie, I only eat my slices with a knife.”

Aiden laughed, almost coughed up orange soda. The fizz bubbled behind his nose, making him wince.

Julie had set up paper plates, cups, and some mosquito coils. She had even left a few candles out, but in the early evening light there was no need. They still had a few hours of sunlight, two at least.

“What is it about pepperoni and cheese?” Aiden’s dad asked, emerging from the kitchen, Bluetooth earpiece still tucked in. "Simple combination, but somehow it's like magic."

“Hey, Mr. Park,” Brian said. “Thanks fa-fa-for having us over.”

“Anytime. You guys are family, you know that. Aiden, you show them the treehouse?”

“Been up there for the last hour,” Freddie answered. “Wicked view.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool, huh?”

They nodded, chewed. Brian slurped his soda a little too loud, eyes drifting indoors to Julie by the kitchen table, and the way her sundress hung loose around her chest when she bent over.

Aiden’s dad followed his gaze. “Ah, you weren’t supposed to see those.”

"Sorry, I didn't mean to stare," Brian said.

"See what?” Aiden asked.

"Nothing, never mind," Brian lowered his eyes, slurped his soda.

“Well, it was going to be a surprise, but…” His dad waved at Julie. “Hon, bring ‘em out, would you?

Julie emerged from the kitchen carrying several bright orange and black boxes. Images adorned the covers, the sides. Guns, from the look of it. Sci-fi themed with lasers shooting out of the end. Red and green and blue.

“Whoa,” Freddie said, eying the toys. "Are those...?"

“Laser tag kits,” his dad said. “Just like the ones at Aiden's birthday. Vests, chargers, guns—"

"Blasters," Julie corrected. "That's what the guy called them."

“Wow,” Aiden said, studying the box. “Dad, these are awesome—”

“Well, it was Julie’s idea too. Actually, she picked them out."

Aiden studied her. “Thanks, Julie,” he said with a smile that seemed to make her blush. For the first time since she’d entered his father’s life, she looked awkward, uncomfortable. It was odd, he thought, as if she was just as nervous around them as he was around her. Maybe she wasn’t so bad, he thought. She was trying, after all.

“Oh, it was nothing, really. Your dad mentioned you guys liked it.”

Brian was already loading a half dozen D cells into his vest. “These things have a range of, like, I dunno. A lot.”

“Three hundred yards in sunlight,” Freddie said, studying the box. “Dude, these are really good guns. They use these at LaserQuest.”

"They guy at the store said they’re the best on the market," Julie said. "What the pros use."

Aiden activated his gun. The front and sides lit up, orange and yellow LEDs flashing along the clip to indicate ammunition. Like something out of his Xbox games, those sci-fi ones with space marines in the year 2500. He pointed the gun at the vest Brian was trying on.

Zap!

Lights lit up all around the vest, indicating a hit. Brian jumped as the vest let out a synthetic sound and vibrated. “Holy shit—I mean crap!”

“Do they work?” Aiden’s dad asked.

“Yeah, it even shakes,” Brian said as the lights stopped flashing. A damage meter on his gun read: 80% health.

“That’s pretty sweet,” Aiden said, studying his own gun. Full health, one shot short of a full clip. He released the clip, pulled it down, then snapped it back in just like at the arena they’d played at. The counter reset and reloaded.

“Hasta la vista, baby.” Freddie fired off another shot that caught Brian point blank in the chest.
Zap!
Another vibration, another burst of lights, and the sound of a direct hit.

“Ah, quit it!” Brian jumped. His gun let out a warning and the damage meter read: 60% health.

“Well, I’d play with you guys but I’ve got about fifty calls to make tonight,” Aiden’s dad said. “You boys enjoy yourself.”

“What about Julie?” Freddie asked. “You can be on my team.”

She laughed at the idea, for once seeming much older than her mid-twenties. “I’m afraid I’d end up shooting you by accident. Friendly fire and all.”

“That’s okay,” Freddie answered.

“Nah, you guys have your fun. Probably got about an hour of sunlight left. If you get hungry, there’s ice cream in the fridge.”

Brian armed his gun and shot Freddie.
Zap!
Lights, impact, vibration. Freddie jumped. “Oh, you’re dead, fatty!”

Brian ran off and Freddie followed, blasting at him. Aiden lingered, uncomfortable.

“Julie?” he asked as she gathered up the plates.

“What’s up?”

“Thanks. This is awesome.”

She smiled, nodded. “You’re welcome, buddy.”

10.