Chapter Four: The Truth About the Incident

Danny put his head in his hands. Explaining about the talking to bats thing wasn't the hard part. It was talking about school that was the hard part.

"Okay, so I was in the cafeteria at lunch," he began...

Danny told the true story of what had happened the day he'd been suspended. The whole truth, so it was easy to remember.

His Keepers knew he didn't have any friends. That wasn't a secret. No one came over, he didn't go hang out. He'd sometimes mention that some kid at school here or there had said this or that so they got the impression that he wasn't a complete loner. Some of the nicer kids would peripherally include him in classwork or speak to him in math groups. That was the full extent of his social interaction with people his own age.

He never talked about the day-to-day grind of dodging a harrowing blend of being completely ignored mixed with random verbal and physical abuse. The popular kids, who weren't popular in the sense that they were liked but rather that they were envied and feared, picked on him as if it were their sworn duty. Some teachers followed the lead of the popular kids, so they picked on Danny as well, in small, casual ways.

He pulled the spitballs out of his hair and kept his head down. He maintained a C average. He rode his bike back and forth to school to avoid the daily hazing of the School Bus Experience. He used the one bathroom no one else ever used. He stayed quiet and hidden and found it was better when they treated him like he was invisible.

The loneliness and stress of it all was grinding him slowly into sand, but he never explained all of this to his Keepers. He didn't want them to be sad, or think that they were raising a loser.

That particular day, the day of the suspension, everything had gone normally until lunch. Tim tripped him in the hall, and other than that it had been uneventful.

He ate alone at lunchtime in the corner of the cafeteria, looking out of the window and writing in his notebooks. The usual crowd had decided to put him on the harassment roster. They laughed at him from behind their hands, giving him derisive looks, but their energies were mostly elsewhere. Today they were torturing the special needs lunch group, and as usual there were no adults paying attention when it counted. Danny was just a side-victim for them that day.

A couple of the girls threw Froot Loops at Danny, giggling every time one hit him. He ignored them, brushing the dry, rainbow-colored cereal from his sleeves, his paper. He existed within the school inside his own little personal bubble, or at least he tried to.

He was doodling. Actual artistic talent wasn't a skill he possessed, but he liked to draw. He'd written out a description of a new kind of werewolf that he'd been thinking about, but his accompanying illustration looked like a deformed donkey and was not very intimidating. He leaned back and frowned at it. He wished he could draw things the way they looked in his head.

He moved on to re-thinking the particulars of the whole full-moon transformation thing when he'd felt a little flutter in his chest, deep inside. In his ribs, under his heart, above his stomach. He rubbed at his sternum absentmindedly. It felt like he'd swallowed a moth.

He ate a bite of his lunch, thinking maybe he was just hungry. A piece of bologna landed on his paper, and he heard a wave of giggles.

Great, he thought. Now what do I do with that.

The moth fluttered its wings again, much more urgently this time. Then, as if from very far away, he heard a tiny voice.

It said, 'help.'

Danny looked up. He didn't see anything out of the ordinary.

'help. bright. scared.'

He looked around. No one else was acting like they'd heard anything. I'm losing it, he thought. I'm finally losing it. I am a Froot Loop. He scanned the cafeteria, trying to look casual about it. Nothing. Nada. Zip.

He heard the little voice again and this time he realized it wasn't coming from anywhere outside of him. It was coming from inside his head. Like he was picking up a radio signal. He covered his ears.

'Bright, bright, bright...' it was louder now, with ambient sounds blocked out.

There was an abrupt scream from one of the girls nearby. "Oh, yuck, what's that?" She pointed to the curtain in front of the little stage at the end of the cafeteria.

Danny sat up high and craned his neck, looking.

A small, brown form was wiggling its way across the curtain. Some kids jumped up and pointed, some laughed, others freaked out and ran to the other end of the cafeteria.

One of the teachers ran up with a big broom, smacking at the curtain. The voice in Danny's head became louder, more incoherent, and panicky as the shape fell from the curtain and landed on a student, who screamed and swatted at it, launching it onto a nearby table.

Danny jumped up and looked over sharply. The small shape propped itself up and looked around, its little eyes shining with fear.

It's a bat, thought Danny. It's just a little bat.

The bat squeaked, and Danny could hear the voice inside again. 'help. help. no see. bright.' He could feel its terror. Everything was too bright, too loud, it didn't know where it was.

Kids fled in all directions as the teacher ran forward, raising the broom high over his shoulder. "Don't worry," he yelled. "I'll get it!"

"Rabies, we'll all get rabies!" a boy shrieked.

The teacher lined up the push-broom's head with the bat and swung, smashing the table and collapsing it. "That's got it!" he said. He peered down at the table. Something in the rubble squeaked weakly.

"Aaagh!" yelled the teacher raising the broom once again. The small leathery shape flew in an erratic pattern across the cafeteria. Danny could see it was coming right for him and instinctively held his arms out. It landed directly onto Danny's sweater front and hung on for dear life. It looked up at him.

'help,' it said.

Danny encircled the bat with his hands protectively.

"You!" yelled the teacher, clambering over chairs. "Don't move, I'm coming."

The teacher ran at Danny. Danny turned and sprinted out of the cafeteria.

"Hey!" yelled the teacher.

Danny was small and a failure at gym class, but he was a fast sprinter. Ali had tried to chase him down a few times and failed, and Ali was speedy for a burly guy.

He tore through the empty hallways at light speed. "Where am I going?" he asked.

'up,' said the voice. 'up.'

Up it is, thought Danny, and he headed for the attic stairs.

The attic stairs had no door or lock. They were roped off with a sign that said, 'Do Not Enter'. A small assortment of school-age thugs entered all the time anyway for various nefarious reasons. Danny hoped none of those kids were up in the attic right now. Those weren't the kids you wanted to run into alone, and definitely not with a live bat in your hands.

He climbed over the rope, tripping and knocking over one of the posts that held it in place. It clanged noisily. Danny swore and bolted up the stairs.

The school's attic was dusty and cluttered, the air cloying and damply chilly. Even though heat from the lower floor would rise, it just rose up through the leaky old roof and out of the building.

Up overhead Danny heard rustling. He looked up to see leathery, sheathed objects hanging from the rafters. They squeaked.

"There you go," said Danny, holding up the little bat. "They're singing the song of your people." He held the bat up as high as he could. "Go."

The bat grunted. 'hurts,' it said. It flexed one of its wings.

Danny sighed and looked around. He pushed an old desk under the bat colony and stood on it, but it still wasn't high enough. He found a chair and put it on top of the desk. He climbed up and stood on the chair carefully.

"There," he said, holding the bat up on the tips of his fingers.

The creature clambered into the group of sleepy bats. They made a space for him to settle in. 'thank you,' it said.

'thank you,' said multiple little voices.

"Don't mention it," Danny said, and the chair gave way under him.

He hit the desk hard and then fell painfully to the floor. It knocked the wind out of him, and for a minute he couldn't breathe.

"Aggghhrrgghh," he moaned.

His ears were ringing so loudly he didn't hear footsteps on the stairs, so he had no time to prepare before he was pulled roughly from the floor.

"Whatcha doin', freaky beans?"

Danny shook his head to clear it. His vision wasn't normal yet, but he could see he was surrounded by professional bullies. Tim, Scott, Eric, the twins, Gretchen, Steven. He would bet anything they'd come up there to smoke or plot destruction or mess around with each other or beat up a fifth grader before lunch period was over. That was their idea of recreation.

There was a chorus of, "Yeah, what's up freak?" followed by numerous slurs of every kind. Danny's stomach sank to the floor. One against seven, this was not good. Especially if he was the One.

"Nothing," he managed to mumble.

"Yup, you're nothing," said Tim. "Good job, loser." They all laughed. That sound of collective derision always triggered a wave of anger and fear in Danny that was hard to contain. Angry tears sprang up like lava.

"Oh, he's crying!" said Scott in delight. He laughed. "Christ. Gonna piss your pants next, freak?"

Danny gritted his teeth. "I am not crying," he insisted. He wanted to say something clever. He wanted a great line, like something a movie person would say. He wanted to be confident and sarcastic and say something so awesome that they'd be too stunned to stop him while he coolly and casually walked out.

But he was just Danny, with no Hollywood scriptwriter handy.

"Grab him," said Tim. Danny was grabbed. He struggled, but there were too many hands pushing him to the floor, too many faces leering.

"Stop it!" yelled Danny, cringing at how thin and high his voice sounded.

"Stop it," they mimicked. "Stop it!" Someone kicked him painfully in the ribs, knocking the wind out for the second time in one day. Danny instinctively curled into a ball, protecting his vital organs.

And then there was A Something.

A very significant something, that Danny had to think through later because he didn't have time at that moment to analyze it.

The feeling of the moth fluttering, in that place in his rib cage. Of something alive unfurling, like a plant. It stretched and awoke. Then he felt a vibration that shook his bones. Like when the doctor bonked his knee with the reflex hammer.

He felt the presence of many minds, not human, inquisitive about what was happening in their attic. Minds he could reach out to.

HELP ME he thought, loud as he could. PLEASE HELP.

"AAAAAGGGGH!" he heard a scream. "OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!" Hands let go of him quickly, in unison, and he was free. He heard squeaks and shrieks. A multitude of leathery sounds. Screaming.

Danny rolled to his hands and knees and looked around at the chaos. Seven kids were flailing, fending off an avalanche of severely pissed off bats.

"Rabies!" screamed Gretchen. "Rabies!"

'go,' said a chorus of tiny voices. 'go now. we got this.'

Danny's eyes flicked to Scott, who was spinning in circles, sobbing, with four bats attached to his face.

Danny went.

He clattered down the stairs, colliding with a large shape halfway down. He was grabbed again, this time by an adult. Screams filtered down from above.

"What is going on up there?" the teacher demanded.

"I didn't do anything," gasped Danny, out of breath.

But he had done something. He was pretty sure he'd done something. A weird something.

He had begged for help with his thoughts and the bats had come to his rescue.

Thirty minutes later he was sitting in the Principal's office. Four resentful faces covered in multiple band-aids and scratches glared at him. The other three had been taken to the hospital.

"We saw the rope was knocked down, so we went to see if anyone was in the attic, you know, causing trouble," said Tim virtuously. "And he was there moving furniture around and breaking things. And he made the bats come at us." He pointed at Danny.

"He was probably being mean to them," said Gretchen. "He got them all mad and then they...they..." she broke down into the fakest sobs Danny had ever heard. "We were just trying to h-h-help."

Eric patted her on the back, giving Danny a look of self-righteous indignation.

"Anything to say for yourself, Daniel?" asked the Principal.

"Danzellan," corrected Danny automatically. It annoyed the hell out of him to be called Daniel.

The Principal narrowed his eyes, face pinched. "Anything to say for yourself, Mister Hallow?"

Danny briefly considered telling the truth and chucked that idea immediately. It didn't matter what he said, honestly. He'd lived in Easton for most of his life, but he was a nobody here. These kids- their moms and dads volunteered at the school. They were popular and well-liked by teachers. Their low-profile torture of misfits and loners flew under the radar of the faculty. All they saw was a group of happy, well-adjusted, reassuringly normal children.

And he was the opposite. He was the one that made them uncomfortable.

If it was his word against theirs, well, he was screwed. He sank back in his chair.

"Well?" demanded the Principle.

Danny shrugged. "I don't know," he said listlessly.

"I'm calling your parents," said the Principal.

"Good luck," said Danny.

"Sir," said one of the twins, "You can't call his parents because he's an orphan." She looked over at Danny, with a faux-sorrowful face and amused malice in her eyes. "An orphan," she said again. Every time she said 'orphan', Gretchen snorted into her hand. "An or-"

"Thank you, Jewel," said the Principal sweetly. "I'd forgotten."

The other kids were excused and the Principal's attempt to call Danny's Keepers was interrupted by a stampede of angry parents, screaming about their kids being attacked by dangerous animals when they were supposed to be safe at school. While this ruckus was taking up the Principal's attention, Danny quietly slipped out of the office.

He slipped down the hall, grabbed his stuff from his locker, walked out the doors, and right out of the whole school. He supposed he was in enough trouble, and he should have just gone to his next class, but he couldn't take it anymore. He retrieved his bike from the rack and took off for home.

He'd taken his time, working out a Keeper-friendly version of events. This version omitted all violence, Froot Loop tossing, voices in his head, and moth-plants in his ribs.

Mr. Murray had been napping when he'd gotten home, Ali and Miss Grace at work. He crept up to his room and threw his pack on the bed, collapsing at his desk.

Pumpkinhead was standing there, holding Danny's Social Studies homework, the essay that he was supposed to turn in after lunch. Oops.

"Thanks, Pumpkinhead," he said, pulling it out of the clawed, plastic hands. "Turns out I didn't need it anyway."

He set the gnarled action figure next to his PuppetMaster dolls and Creature. His various Jason Voorhees incarnations were on the second shelf with Freddy, Sam, and Jigsaw.

Danny often imagined what Toy Story would be like if it took place in his room. All the Jasons arguing about who was the scariest, Freddy and Blade comparing weapons. All of them ganging up on the LEGO figures he'd had since Kindergarten.

His desk mirror reflected a pale, scratched, and bleeding face. His eye was swelling. He hadn't realized he was such a mess. He went down the hall to the bathroom to clean up, washing off the blood, dust and dirt, and changing his clothes before anyone could see him.

Miss Grace and Ali arrived in a fluster, both home early from work after receiving calls from the school. Ali fussed over his wounds, Mr. Murray commiserated, Miss Grace yelled.

Danny had been suspended for two weeks. He was a delinquent, she'd been told, and possibly suffered from mental illness. It had been suggested that they get Danny professional help and medication.

"He thinks you should try to be more 'normal," Miss Grace said. "Whatever that's supposed to mean."

When it was his turn, he'd told them his prepared and rehearsed version of The Incident. They'd had some suggestions about how to make that version sound better, and they'd come up with their official version for his defense. The two versions had been very similar, but Miss Grace's version made him sound a lot less involved.

"I didn't go to Harvard for nothing," she said, "even though sometimes I think I did."

After he'd been thoroughly lectured, hugged, yelled at, threatened with dire consequences, Neosporined, and band-aided, he'd been given dinner and then sent to his room with a piece of pie. He heard Miss Grace going off about the 'little liars' at his school as he went up the stairs. She'd never been on fantastic terms with his school.

"At least we don't have to get him up at five in the morning for two weeks," he heard Ali say, always looking on the bright side.

"What are we going to do with him?" Miss Grace said, exasperated.

Danny stopped eavesdropping and took his pie to his room.

He was finishing his pie at his desk, watching a movie on his battered old TV/DVD combo when something bumped against his window, making him jump. He waited a moment, and then heard scratching on the glass. He got up and approached the window cautiously.

Danny jumped back when he saw a flash of night-eyes glowing at him. The shape shivered, a tiny bundle of cold.

'come in?' it said.

Danny threw up the window and grabbed the little bat. It was freezing, like a fuzzy ice cube.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

The bat snuggled against Danny's chest as if trying to burrow inside. 'want boy,' it said.

"Me?" asked Danny. "Why?"

'need boy,' it said. The little bat clumsily climbed up Danny's pajama shirt and hid in his hair.

"Wouldn't you rather be with the other bats?" asked Danny.

'gone,' said bat. 'humans come kill. all kill with bad air no air all dead.'

Danny turned all of this over in his mind. "You mean like, exterminators?" He felt a huge wave of guilt that almost knocked him down. "Because you guys attacked the kids?"

'kill all kill,' said the bat. 'gone me. only me. me only.'

Danny reached up to touch the bat with his finger gently. My fault, he thought. All my fault, because I made the bats attack, or I asked them to and they did it, what's the difference?

He hadn't meant to, but he wasn't sure that mattered.

"I'm sorry," he'd said. "You can stay with me as long as you like."

The bat nestled into his neck. 'stay. boy.'

Danny went over to his bed and lay down, being careful not to crush the bat on his neck. He drew up the covers. "Aren't you nocturnal?"

'tired.'

"Long day, huh? Me too." Danny settled in, hoping he didn't roll over on the bat in his sleep. He tried to stay very still.

He decided to name him Max, after Max Schreck, the actor who had played the very first movie vampire in the old silent film days.

"Good night, Max."

The next day he told his Keepers that Max had been in his backpack the whole time, and he'd found him when he took out his books. He must have climbed in there somehow, somewhere, sometime.

He wasn't sure they bought it, but he had to tell them. He needed their help to keep Max alive.

The school sent out an email, letting everyone know that exterminators had been called in to clear out the bat colony, and that they were no longer a danger. Mr. Murray had been horrified.

"They're endangered, for heaven's sake," he'd said. "How horrible."

They were a little sketchy about Danny keeping a bat for a pet. They'd discussed handing Max over to the DNR so they could find him a new home or reintroduce him to the wild.

Then Miss Grace's phone had gone off crazily with calls and texts, and they had all gotten distracted. All other plans and considerations had been put on hold when Enzo Vincent had called to let them know that Enoch Wildwood was dead, and that Danny would be needed at the reading of the will.

That was where Danny ended the story, the true story. He couldn't take it back now.

He cupped his mug with his hands, staring into the contents, unwilling to look up and see their reactions, afraid of what he might see.