Emma and the Minotaur (2 page)

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Authors: Jon Herrera

BOOK: Emma and the Minotaur
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“Count down for us, Dad?” Emma said.

“Ready? Three, two, one, now!”

Together, Emma and Will screamed the missing man’s name.

Mr Wilkins covered his ears and grimaced.

They kept going for another hour, with Emma walking in front and doing the shouting, but there was no sign of Andrew Milligan or anyone else. Somewhere along the way they had reached a part of the forest that was unfamiliar to Emma. She thought that if she had been there alone she would have become lost. Even the type of chirping in this area sounded different from what she was used to. She looked up into the trees to see if she could spot one of the birds but she only saw the movement of the leaves in the wind.

“I like that,” she said.

“What’s that?” Will said as he came up beside her.

“The leaves in the wind.”

Will joined her and looked up. After a moment he shook his head. “I don’t—”

“Hold on!” Emma said.

“What?”

“Don’t you hear that?”

Mr Wilkins caught up with them and stopped to listen. “It’s just the wind in the trees,” he said.

“No,” Emma said. “Don’t you hear music?”

“I don’t hear anything,” he said. “How about you, Will?”

Will shook his head. “Nothing.”

“Come on,” Emma said. “It’s over there!”

Emma ran. Around trees and over branches and brambles she ran. The forest became a blur of green and brown. She tripped and tumbled forward but just managed to keep herself from falling. She giggled at the feeling that it gave her. She felt like she did when she went on a roller coaster and her heart became big and jumpy.

A little more running brought her to a clearing. There was a big tree in the middle. It was tall and wide and looked like it was very old. There was a music playing, like the symphonies that her father listened to, and Emma was certain that it was coming from the tree. A few more steps brought her close to it and she stretched out her hand to touch it. Just as she was about to make contact, she heard her father’s voice behind her. He sounded agitated.

“Emma,” he said. “What do you think you’re doing running off like that?”

Emma turned to see Will and Mr Wilkins emerge from the forest.

“Sorry, dad,” she said. “But the music, it—” she paused to listen and realized that the music was no longer there. “It stopped.”

Mr Wilkins pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I’m telling you, Emma,” he said. “It’s just the wind in the trees.”

“No,” she said. “It was coming from the tree.”

Emma approached the tree once again and put her hand on it. “You were singing, weren’t you?” she whispered. “You were singing and you’re alive.”

“Of course it’s alive,” Will said. “Learn some biology.”

“Funny,” she said and pushed him as hard as she could but he barely moved. He grabbed her hands and turned her around and restrained her in a tight hug. Emma squirmed and punched and kicked at him.

“Kids,” Mr Wilkins said. “Come on, we have to keep moving.”

Will released her and she gave him another shove.

 

From under the shadows of a thick coppice on the edge of the clearing, a horned creature watched the scene. Within the boundaries of the forest, the creature could remain unseen whenever he wanted to, and he had remained in hiding as he’d followed the man, the boy, and the girl.

He had heard them call for the one named “Andrew,” the one who was lost, and he had followed them through the forest. It was out of idle interest at first, but then the girl had heard the music.

The creature had stood close behind her when the music had called to her in the clearing. He had almost reached out a hand to touch her, but then the others had come, and so the creature had gone back into hiding.

And so he was watching and waiting. The girl was so young and so small and fragile.

He watched the humans leave the clearing, completely unaware of him, and then he walked up to the ancient tree. He looked quizzically at the great oak for a moment.

“So you are sure,” he said at last. “Emma is ready.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2

The Disappearing Boy

 

Early into the new school year, Emma became obsessed with a boy who disappeared.

It all began on the first day of school during morning recess. Emma was sitting on a swing in the playground, swinging her feet, and reading the book that she had smuggled out of class. She was keeping half an eye on a few boys who were bouncing a tennis ball off the side of the building. She was wary of them because she had been the victim of a stray ball or two before.

It was during one of her glances up from the book that she noticed the disappearing boy quite by accident. He was a plain-looking boy and he was walking around the playground with his hands in his pockets. There was something about him that made Emma believe that she had seen him somewhere. His face looked familiar but she couldn’t remember if she had met the boy before.

She continued to watch him for the remainder of recess and noticed that he seemed to be avoiding the other kids. If someone looked at him, he would look down to the ground and walk away. Emma decided then that she would try to become his friend.

When the bell signalling the end of recess went off, the teachers who were in charge of supervising the playground herded the children back inside. Emma tried to keep an eye on the boy as she walked toward the school doors but she lost him in the crowd. She stopped to look around for him but then she saw Will walking back from the other side of the school, where the basketball courts were located.

“Hey, what are you doing?” he said.

“Nothing,” Emma said, still looking through the crowd.

“You better get to class, Emma. Don’t want to get in trouble on your first day.”

They entered the school together but Will went straight down the hall to his classroom on the first floor. Emma’s class was on the second floor. She went to the stairs but stood at the bottom and watched as the remaining children walked or ran past her on their way up. The boy wasn’t among them.

“Go to class, please,” someone said. Emma turned and saw one of the teachers. He was a tall man with gray hair and a round belly.

“Sorry,” Emma said. “I was just looking for someone.” She fled up the stairs.

When she reached her classroom, Emma saw that the boy she had been looking for was sitting at the desk nearest the door.

“You’re in my class? How did you get here?” she said.

Everyone in the class turned to look at her, including the teacher.

“Emma,” she said. “Please sit down. And try not to be late next time.”

Emma turned pink. “Yes, Miss Robins,” she said and took her seat.

Emma tried to catch the boy again during lunch time.

She entered the busy cafeteria and sat down with Will and his friends, Kevin and Joey. The room was filled to capacity. Laughter erupted now and then from one table or another.

“So full in here this year,” Kevin said. “It’s all the stupid grade sixes.”

“Yeah, so many new ones,” Joey said. He motioned toward Emma with a tilt of his head.

“Sorry, Emma,” Kevin said. “You’re not actually that stupid.”

When she finished eating, Emma scanned her surroundings as she sipped out of her box of apple juice. There were too many kids and she couldn’t see very far because she wasn’t tall enough. With a sigh, she climbed on top of her chair.

A carrot stick flew by her head while she looked. From her vantage point, she estimated that she could see maybe two thirds of the students in the cafeteria but that she would miss the boy if he was somewhere on the periphery. If the boy didn’t have any friends, and wanted to avoid company, then he was certain to be somewhere along the edge of the room. She needed to go higher.

Without thinking, she climbed on top of the table.

“Emma, what are you doing?” Will said.

“Looking for someone,” she said absently. A pizza crust sailed past her.

“Mr Clarence is coming,” Joey said.

“Who?” Emma said. She spun around in time to see the arrival of the elderly man from before, the one she had run into at the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh. Hello,” she said.

“Emma, he’s the principal,” Will said.

“Oh. Hello, sir.”

“What is your name, young lady?” Mr Clarence said.

“Emma, Mr Clarence.”

“Please get down from there, Emma.”

“Yes, Mr Clarence.”

Emma looked for the boy again during the afternoon’s recess period. She climbed up on the slide in the playground and stood at the top like a sentry.

Over by the basketball courts, Will and his friends were bouncing a ball around. Emma waved to him but he didn’t see her. On the soccer field, there was a gathering of eighth graders. They were hanging around the goal posts. The playground was filled with younger children. They were running about and playing.

Emma scanned the school in this way for a few minutes. From school building to basketball courts, over to the soccer field, and then to the playground. She saw no sign of the boy. It was like he was invisible.

When she finally spotted him, it was near the basketball courts. He was watching Will and his friends shoot the ball around. He was standing on the grass beyond the court, leaning under the shade of a tree.

Emma went down the slide and ran through the playground. She took her eyes off the boy for only a moment but when she reached the basketball courts he was nowhere in sight.

Will saw her and stopped in mid-dribble.

“Emma?” he said.

“Hey, Will.”

“What are you doing?”

“Just looking for someone,” she said.

During dinner that evening, Emma didn’t say much. She was lost in thought trying to figure out how to corner the disappearing boy. She imagined a giant box and a stick with a string tied to it, but she couldn’t think of anything that she could use as bait.

“Who were you looking for today, Emma?” Will said, interrupting her imaginings.

“A boy,” she said.

“A boy?”

Mr Wilkins arched an eyebrow. He was at his normal place at the head of the table. Will was to his right while Emma was sitting at the other end.

She snapped to attention. “Not like that!” she said. “There is a boy in my class and I think he has powers.”

“Powers?”

Emma nodded. “One, at least. I’ve been trying to become his friend and he keeps disappearing.”

“I don’t blame him,” Will said.

“I’m serious!”

She was about to explain her failed attempts to catch the boy when a peculiar idea occurred to her.

“Dad, what if Andrew Milligan disappeared on purpose,” she said, “just like this boy does? What if they both have powers?”

“Like maybe they’re wizards?” Will said.

“Yeah!” Emma said. “Maybe that’s it. Maybe they’re both wizards.”

“Now,” Mr Wilkins said, “while that’s entirely possible, maybe there’s another, more reasonable explanation. Do you know the boy’s name?”

“No,” Emma said. “How can I find out his name if I can’t even talk to him?”

“Don’t they take attendance at Briardale?”

“Brilliant, Dad!” Emma said.

The next morning, during attendance, Emma kept her eyes fixed on the suspected wizard. He was plain, and hard to notice. The boy was slunked down on his seat, but not so much that it would draw attention from the teacher. His hair was neat and his clothes were clean, if a bit faded. As Miss Robins called out the names of the students, the boy sat perfectly still and avoided looking at the teacher.

“Collins, Suzanne,” Miss Robins said, and the girl who sat behind him raised her hand.

“Close!” whispered Emma, but then she realized that was silly.

The teacher went on down the D’s and the E’s and so on.

“Grieger, Eric.”

Another boy raised his hand. There was also “Johns, Jeff” and “Laurier, Molly” and other names that were familiar to Emma from previous years. Even when Miss Robins got to her name, way down the list, Emma didn’t stop looking at the boy. She raised her hand and barked a swift, “Present!”

“Good,” Miss Robins said. “Everyone’s here.” She walked back to her desk and put her clipboard down.

“What?” Emma said.

“Emma, is there a problem?”

Everyone was looking at her. She hadn’t meant to shout. Even the wizard boy was watching her. She hadn’t taken her eyes off him during all of attendance. She was sure that his name simply hadn’t been called.

“Do you people even see him?” Emma said, still more loudly than she intended. “Is he invisible too?”

“Emma, settle down,” said Miss Robins. “Who are you talking about?”

“Him!” she said and stood up and pointed at the boy. Her hand hit her notebook and it flipped up and hit the boy in front of her in the back of the head. Jeff Johns turned to glare at her as he rubbed his neck.

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