Masqueraded

Raspberry Waffles and Exploding Windows

 A single beam of sunlight forced it's way past my eyelids the morning I turned sixteen. It promised a warm day and I smiled to myself while I sat up in bed.

“Sun,” I sniff “Waffles, this is the best birthday ever.”

I quickly pull on some light clothes and pad into the kitchen on stocking feet.

“Happy birthday Malory” my mother says, dropping a plate of waffles in front of me and planting a kiss on my forehead.

“Morning mum.” I say and eye the waffles “Raspberry?”

“You're favourite.”

“Perfect.” My day was off to an awesome start.

“You've got a couple of letters." Mum says "One from Nan and one from who I think is uncle Hector. It's from somewhere out by him.” She hands me the letters and I stuff them in my pocket, wanting to savour my waffles first.

I hear a horn blare out front, the tinny, girly beep of Reanne's Kia Rio. I dash to the door, abandoning my empty plate, and call goodbye to mum, then slide down the rail of our steps and stuff myself into Reanne's already full car.

“Happy birthday Mal!” Tony's voice drifts from the back seat. “Big one-six.”

“Yeah,” Says Reanne “Sixteen birthday bumps from us! Get you're body armour on!”

“Do you guys really have to keep that going?” I groan.

Reanne grins “If we don't, who will?”

“Nobody. That's the point.”

“But that's no fun!” Tony retorts, faking hurt.

I turn around to glare at him. “You're really asking for a bump yourself.” I say menacingly.

Tony just laughs at me, waving off my threat. I huff and turn again, ignoring them for the rest of the ride.

The first half of the day passes uneventfully. At lunch I grab a slice of pizza from the canteen and join Tony and Reanne at our usual table. As I sit, a corner of the envelope in my pocket jabs into my leg and I take it out.

“What's that?” Tony asks and snatches the letter out of my hands before I can say a word. “To Ms. M. Deem, 145 Sorrel Square, Apter, Connecticut. Who'd be sending you this other than you're grand-mom?”

“Dunno” I say “That's what I was trying to figure out before you stole it.” I raise an eyebrow pointedly at him.

He passes the letter back and I rip open the envelope, my eyes widening at the four clippings that tumble out.

'10 Foolproof Ways to Discover Demon's by Albert Roan', 'They Live Among Us by Francine Quest', 'Three year-old Chanel Pavio missing – parents at loss.', and a final sheet plastered with the words 'they're with you' in permanent marker.

Reanne and Tony have both leaned across the table, reading upside down.

Tony breaks the trance first. “What kind of shit is this?” He says “Some kind of joke?”

I blink and shake my head “I have no idea.”

“Who'd do this to you? On your birthday of all days?” Reanne asks, her face twisting in distaste. “That's a sick joke.”

I shrug. “It's not that bad. But I'm pretty confused. 'they're with you'? Seriously? What's with that?”

Tony snatches up the newspaper clipping and reads aloud “'Three year-old Chanel Pavio went missing last tuesday night. She was playing in the yard with a couple of other children and her mother went inside. She returned quickly after hearing screaming, coming outside to see all the children crying on the ground. All the children except for her daughter. She immediately called the missing persons department of the Pennsylvania Police, reporting the kidnapping of her daughter. Officials rushed to the scene, finding a discarded glove and running a DNA test. It turned out to belong to a friend of the mothers, Phoebe Garner. Garner, 23, had recently moved from the area to somewhere in Connecticut—'” Here he stops.

“What? What is it?” I ask.

“The word Connecticut is underlined. We live in Connecticut. It's just a weird coincidence.”

Reanne was impatient “Oh, forget coincidences, get back to the article!”

Tony continues “'Somewhere in Connecticut. The mother attempted to contact her after the four children at the scene confirmed they had seen Garner's truck. Unable to find her name in the phonebook, she then traveled to Connecticut herself with her husband and two other children, Micheal, 8, and Sophie, 5, to attempt to locate her. The search yielded no results, neighbours saying they had never heard of a Phoebe Garner moving into their city. The Pavio family has returned to Missouri and is desperate for news on their daughter. Should anybody find information on Chanel's current location, please contact Pennsylvania State Police and ask to be connected to the Jenkinsville branch.'”

“Whoa.” Reanne says “Hardcore. What the hell could it mean though? And these books.” She picked up the list of titles “'10 Foolproof Ways to Discover Demons'? Really?”

I shrug.

Suddenly, the list is pulled from Reanne's hands as Ryan Kimble, followed by three other football players, snatches it away and scrutinizes it.

“What's this guys?” He asks, “Demons? Why are you talking about demons?”

I stand up “Hand it over, Ryan.”

Ryan looks up at me from the sheet “I'd rather not. And why should I? I'm sure the rest of the student body would like to know that the losers have lost it.” He grins.

“Give. It. Back.” I say through clenched teeth. Behind him, a window starts to rattle.

“I'd rather not.” He repeats and turns around to walk away.

As soon as his back turns, the window of the cafeteria explodes, showering everybody within ten feet with tiny shards of glass. I drop to the ground, crouching under the table. The whole cafeteria goes silent, the only sound remaining being the tinkle of glass shards as students shift in the rubble.

I peer over the edge of the table top, widening my eyes at the sight before me. A gaping hole where the window once stood has appeared in the wall. Everywhere, students are brushing bits of brick, wood, and glass off of them. A thick dust hangs in the air.

“What was that noise!?” Principal Woodfine rushes into the room. She takes a single look at the debris and says “Who did this?”, deathly calm and prepared to slaughter.

Heads pop up from the mess, student and staff alike. The first to get his bearings, Mr. Grath, stands and explains what he saw to the fuming principal.

“I didn't see much, but I saw enough to know that nobody was near enough to that window when it happened to have caused it. I'm not sure how it happened, but nobody touched that window. It exploded by—“

“EXPLODED!?” The principal shrieks “My school exploded!?”

“Y-yes ma'am” Mr. Grath stutters, his eyes rounding in fear.

“The school board will hear of this...damn construction, I'll have the place re-built if I get my way.” Principal Woodfine stalks away, muttering curses to whoever she can think of.

“Yikes.” Jesse Thomas says, breaking the stiff silence “I pity her husband.” A quiet snicker passes across the group, including some of the teachers.

Mr. Grath turns to the rest of us. “Alright, students, go to your lockers, gather your things and return home. Class is dismissed for the day. And probably for the next few days too.” Around the room, students woot and cheer, heading to their lockers to grab their bags.

I meet up with Tony and Reanne at Tony's locker and we start walking home together.

“Do you have the articles?” Tony asks me.

“No, I thought you took them.” I reply “Oh well.”

“They weren't really important anyway,” Reanne says “They were only sent for a joke. Right?”

“Right.” I say, though the feeling that I should've gone back and gotten them was imprinted in my brain for the rest of the day.