The Children – Part 1
Sometimes, you have to work long and hard to come up with a unique story idea. Other times… life provides the base material, and your imagination does the rest. This next story comes to us courtesy of one of my good friends, who was standing outside in the rain and noticed something rather peculiar. A group of children, standing at a bus stop. Yet there was no bus to be waiting for, and they were standing completely still, each one directly behind the next in a perfect, un-moving chain of tiny humans. He was disturbed, but his first thought was to reach out to me, knowing that I’ve been trying my best to become an author.
My friend felt that this was a story that could be told in two separate directions. His first impression was that it was a chance to write about what life would be like if all the public sector options just suddenly didn’t function or weren’t funded any longer. How would so many of us get around without public transportation? Is it possible to advance as a society without public schooling? Interesting concepts, and well worth taking the time to explore. However, I was looking at that same scene with a different mindset. You see, I’m raising my own tiny little despot, and how those children were behaving crept me right the heck out.
That, in turn, got my creative juices flowing, and made me think of a recent story involving children which has become insanely popular. Stranger Things, the wonderful homage to the 80’s, just happened and it is all the inspired brilliance and wonderful storytelling that everyone says it is. When you can blow the minds of Patrick Rothfuss and Wil Wheaton, among other notable highly imaginative individuals, you’ve done a remarkable job creating a story. In Stranger Things, the children are front and center, and drive the entire story. It’s incredible to watch it all unfold, and it paved the way for my mind in the moments after I heard my friends story. What if I had my own story of children, but not one in which they are the heroes, but where they are instead the villains?
The most wonderful part of a story involving creepy children is that I can tell the story through the eyes of the protagonist who also happens to be a child. I’m hoping I don’t fall back on cliche coming of age troupes, but with a child protagonist there’s nearly infinite room to maneuver in his or her world. Everyone can relate to being a child, and everyone understands their struggles. The world presaged by that one moment in time have lead to a great opportunity to mix up my writing with a little horror. I look forward to seeing the results of my friends desire to share that snapshot of his life with me.
Without further Stranger Things references…
The Children – Part 1
Dustin looked morosely out the window of his mother’s mini-van, watching the rain slick down, coating everything in sight. “Does it always rain out here, Mom?” he asked dully as he watched another group of block-like houses pass by. “Now now Dusty, it’s too late to form those kinds of opinions.” his mother returned in her usual upbeat manner. “We’ve only been here for a week, and besides, rain is a wonderful thing! It grows the plants we eat, and it’s simply wonderful to sit on a porch and read while the rain falls.” Dustin’s mother would find something positive about World War III, and Dustin had long ago fallen back on calling her “Sunny Side Up” in the privacy of his own thoughts when she was being so determinedly positive. He let out a dark chuckle as he imagined what she would say if he called her that name out loud. She would probably laugh and thank him for such a cute name. “We don’t have a porch Mom.” Dustin doggedly pointed out, trying to maintain his foul mood in the face of such unbridled optimism. “We’re only here for a little while Dusty, soon enough we will have a porch for you to read on. You’ll see!” She let loose a thousand watt smile in Dustin’s direction with the last statement, and Dustin grinned despite his mood. Sometimes you just couldn’t argue with Sunny Side Up, she was like her own force of nature.
It was still raining when she dropped him off at his bus stop. He sighed, and simply pulled the hood of his favorite sweatshirt over his head, grateful he’d had the foresight to tuck his ponytail into the sweater already. Sunny Side Up pecked him on the cheek and wished him a wonderful day at school. She’d thoroughly wrecked the morose mood he’d worked so hard on, and he finally raised the white flag by telling her he loved her. Once more the bright white smile which seemed to fill her whole face, and just like that the door was closed and it was up to Dustin to wait it out in the rain. First day at yet another new school Dustin thought as he made his way to the corner to await the bus. I wonder if this one will be as bad as the last. He shuddered, and hoisted his backpack a little further up his shoulder at the thought. His mother, with her utter refusal to see the worst in anyone, tended to find the foulest men to date. This last one had been especially bad, and the restraining order’s hadn’t been enough to keep him away. So, in the dark of night, they had moved halfway across the country. He’d had enough time to pack his comics and books, which was lucky, but he’d had to buy all new clothes.
Finally looking up as he made his way over to the corner, a strange tableau met his eyes. Four kids stood in a line, waiting for the bus to arrive. Their line was eerily perfect, and they stood completely still, as unmoved by the rain as a series of statues. They were different shapes and sizes, but were dressed exactly alike, carrying the same backpacks, with exactly the same hairstyle. The overall effect was disturbing, even a little bit frightening. Dustin had been to several schools by now, but he’d never seen a pack of students quite like this. Covering up his disquiet with action, he carefully extracted the headphones from his pocket, turning on the music that was such an omnipresent part of his life. When the comforting lyrics met his ears, he was instantly eased by the reassuring familiarity of the songs. It would be even better if he could grab one of his comics, but he dare not risk damaging his precious cargo in the rain.
Minutes dragged on, and the four children in their row remained as silent and immobile as stone gargoyles. They never so much as looked around them, staring straight ahead at the same invisible scenery. Eventually, the bright yellow of the bus showed around a corner, and Dustin let out an audible sigh of relief. Standing with these other children was unnerving. When the bus came to a stop, the four children walked forward at precisely the same time, their steps mirrored with military precision. Up the stairs, and directly to the back of the bus, they moved like a single organism. The back two seats were left unoccupied, a sure sign that their owners were well established. Sure enough, the children moved at some unheard signal and split into pairs to take their seats. No words were exchanged, and they stared straight ahead after taking their seats and placing their identical backpacks in their laps. Creepy. Dustin made his own way onto the bus after them, finding a spot towards the front where he could sit by himself. Finally freed of the danger presented by the rain, he moved with unseemly haste to grab the latest issue he had been consuming. A friend at his previous school had turned him on to the newest works of Superman, and it was making for a very gripping read.
All too soon, the bus was slowing to a stop outside a squat, characterless building made of cinder blocks which could only be his new school. It did not look promising, but Dustin heard Sunny Side Up whisper in his ear “You never know till you experience it Dusty, it could be really fun!” Smiling at how much her presence stuck with him, he packed away his comic book and stepped off the bus and began making his way to the main office. He’d been to five schools in the last three years, so he knew the drill by now. He wasn’t disappointed either, his efforts yielding a copy of his schedule and directions to his first class. English, of all things. Not necessarily a bad way to start the day, but far more effort than he wanted to expend in the mornings. Why couldn’t it have been math? Numbers and figures always came so easily to him that he never had to study. A perfect opportunity wasted.
His new teacher was a slightly older woman, with a severe face, glasses, and her hair up in a tight bun. She wore a very professional looking outfit, and her tone brooked no nonsense from the students as she took role. Dustin couldn’t help but notice how much she looked like a bird of prey, so he decided to call her Hawk. As she went through the roll, Dustin glanced at each person as they answered, trying to get a feel for who was in the class with him. After getting past him and towards the bottom of the alphabet, she called out four individuals with the same last name. As he watched each answer in turn, it was with growing alarm. The four names belonged to the same four children that had been on the bus. Different surroundings had not changed their demeanor, and each answered with exactly the same inflection and hand raising. They sat in a tight knot, two by two in the right rear of the class. Freed of their jackets, he could see that each of the children wore the same black jeans with a pressed white shirt. Hanging around the neck of each was a gigantic silver cross, complete with crucified Jesus. Clearly they were the product of a very strict religious upbringing to act in such a fashion. Dustin sighed to himself, if these boys and girls were to be a part of his class, it was going to be a very long year indeed.
To be continued.
Dustfully,
Justin
