My mouth watered. I loved good ice cream. I could remember the bicycle carts and later the white ice cream vans the company used to run, right up until the mid ’70s, the same era I remembered the decor of Pizza Plaza harking from. I glanced over at Sal’s Diner, the burger place, unsurprised to see it had a Formica lunch counter and red leather booths that appeared to have mini-jukeboxes on them. `The bookshop across the road was another nostalgia trip, but from an even earlier era- a much earlier one. Wooden bookshelves, hardback books, including leather-bound tomes in the window, and more caught my eye.
“That place is a trip, huh?” Henry said, catching me looking.
“It’s like something out of the Victorian era,” Rusty said, wrinkling his nose. “You can’t get any of the more recent stuff you might want to read unless it is available in a deluxe hardback edition. They didn’t even get in Harry Potter for the junior high kids until the illustrated ones came out.”
“So, it’s a regular book shop along with being the campus bookstore for our textbooks and supplies?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Henry answered me. That stuff’s kept upstairs. You have to have Mr. Nelson go get it for you. You tell him what you want, and he fetches it.”
We’d reached the set of steps that led down to the sand. I hovered. It was still warm for this time of year, but the breeze off the ocean made it feel chilly.
“Should’ve worn a jacket,” I said, ruefully.
“Mmmm,” Rusty said, placing our pizza box down onto the sand several feet away from the steps and plopping down next to it. Henry and I followed suit, and soon we were happily munching on hot, pizza. Between the three of us, we soon polished it off and moved to leave as dusk was not only falling, but the tide had begun to come in.
“This was great, thanks,” I said, and I meant it. We’d nearly gotten off on the wrong foot, but these two were shaping up to be some alright guys. I squinted, spotting something beneath he boardwalk. “What’s that? Is that a boathouse?”
“It’s off-limits,” Rusty said sharply. “And no, it’s not. Boathouses are built out over the water.”
I held my hands up. “I was only asking.”
Rusty flushed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it to come so harshly. Just, sometimes, people break in, and they’ve gotten hurt.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Hurt? Oh, on the stuff that’s stored in there.”
Henry licked his lips. “Not exactly. Umm, when the tide comes in, it’s partly underwater, right?”
“Right,” I agreed.
“Well, sometimes, when the tide’s in, our um, sponsor decides to come for a visit. Normally he feeds off some idiot rando who decides to come sailing or to snorkel this way even though this area’s marked off-limits or waits for the tribute to be brought to him. He doesn’t take too well to finding trespassers in his house, though.”
Oh. Oh.
“He’s an Old One,” I breathed.
“Yeah,” Rusty said softly as we reached the steps. “Look, I’d rather not talk about him, if you don’t mind. Seriously creeps me out. “
Henry leaned towards me and whispered in my ear, “Rumor is he’s like Cthulu.” He waggled his arms and hands about suggestively as he spoke. “I know I’m staying away. I want to get Made, but not until it’s my natural time.”
Natural time. Ha! That was a rich way of referring to it. He meant natural, as in, once he was accomplished in life and married with a few kids, of course. There was nothing natural about the process, though. They chose when, and if, to make you. Nearly dead from accident or disease? Odds are if you were your Family’s heir, you’d be Made if they got to you in time. Otherwise, it was entirely at the choosing of the one who decided to Make you. Usually, that was your Family’s Sponsor, one of the First Made ones, like Father. They were Made by one of the Old Ones, beings of unknown origin. I’m sure someone must know where they came from, but the rank and file that I was part of had no need to know, so we didn’t.
But, yeah. Old Ones were not on my list of beings I wanted to meet. Father was scary enough as it was. I’d be staying well and truly clear.
7
“Mr. Montgomery,” Professor Lambert said. “Please see me after class.”
This was not good. I’d known this was going to happen, though. Math really was not my forte, and despite having promised to help me with this class, Shannon hadn’t. I’d tried speaking to him after my first day of classes, but he turned on his heel and made off like a jackrabbit as soon as he saw me. I don’t know what I’ve done to upset him, but from the expression on his face that time and every time since, I’d certainly done something.
I sank into my seat, feeling the weight of my classmates’ stares, knowing they knew I was in some kind of trouble. I resolved then and there to buck myself up. If Shannon wouldn’t help me, I’d have to find someone else who would. I couldn’t go on like this. Flunking was most definitely not an option. Cold panic seized my heart at the idea of the school contacting my Family to inform them of my lack of performance. I felt the room begin to close in at the thought, my heart beginning to hammer. I forced myself to unclench my hands and concentrate on my breathing, recognizing the signs of an impending panic attack. I got it under control but missed most of the lesson. Great, now I was going to be even farther behind.
I waited until the classroom was empty save for Professor Lambert and me, then got up and stood next to his desk.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” I asked.
He looked at me, his expression kindly. “I do. I know this must be quite a shock. You’ve done low-level jobs for your Family, and now you’ve been thrust into this life unexpectedly,” he said. “I believe it’s also been a rather long time since you last attended school.”
“I got my GED in 1956,” I told him. “Father insisted. That was some time after I’d dropped outta school, though.” I slipped into my normal vernacular, the fake polish I put on my words as River now gone without a trace. “I left in the middle of sixth grade before that, ‘cuz my folks couldn’t afford to send me no more. I had ta find jobs to do to help with the bills.”
