Chapter 25

Home?

Ty felt something soft below him...and something else above him, restricting his arms. Ty opened his eyes, half expecting to be in some kind of fluffy torturing device. Thankfully he wasn't. That was a relief.

He was lying in his bed. And his bed was in his room. That might have been an obvious assumption, but after all he’d seen in the crazy dream world, he wouldn't have been surprised to be floating in his bed above the Earth.

So… was he really home? That couldn't be right. Ty pushed the covers off and revealed his sword still clutched in his right hand. Ty hopped out of bed and scanned the room.

All his furniture was there and in their proper places—but that was it.

There was not a toy, LEGO, or video game in sight.

“Oh yeah,” he said out loud. “Something is definitely wrong.”

He held his sword at the ready and pushed open the door to “his” room. On the other side he found… the exact same hallway that was always on the other side. Same length, the walls were the same bland white, and as he crept along he saw the same boring pictures on the wall. Smiling faces of his family watched him as he crept. He avoided looking at the ones of his grandpa.

Ty's slow pace brought him to the stairs. He started down them, and found that they creaked in all the places they usually did. After several noisy moments, his feet touched the final stair. He pushed himself against the wall, took a breath, then rolled around the wall and leapt into the kitchen, sword flailing after him.

Not a single soul in the kitchen. Didn't hurt to be safe.

He kept on going, toward the living room, noting as he passed that the kitchen was the same. Why was his room the only one rudely redecorated?

He pushed himself against another wall and inched closer to the doorless doorway (it was always like that) into the living room.

He took another deep breath and jumped around the wall. His sword arm ready to mindlessly swing at anything that might be inside to hurt him.

There were no attackers, but his ears took a rude beating.

“Happy birthday!” his family yelled at once.

His mom, sister, grandmother, and father crowded around him—all cheerful and normal. Like the rest of the house (minus his room).

Lily ran to him and hugged his legs, the only part of him she could reach without straining.

“Happy birthday, big brother!”

“Um, thanks.” He awkwardly patted her head.

His mother and grandmother wished him the same, and came to join the hug. He smiled as best he could and tried to shake the feeling of everything not being quite right.

They stepped away as his father walked over next. He wore his usual blank face, but there was kindness and warmth there. He stuck his hand in the space between them. Ty stared at the hand for a while before he finally decided to shake it.

His father smiled—something Ty had only seen on a few occasions—and said, “Well, you're thirteen now.”

“Guess so,” Ty mumbled.

“A teenager. Things will begin changing. Physically,” he'd seen and felt a bit of that already, “and mentally.” That, too.

“There are some other things we'll need to discuss, but more on that later.”

Ty prayed that he wasn't referring to “The Talk.” A chill went up his spine.

“Right now,” his mother's voice came from his side, “it's time to open presents!”

Lily ran up to Ty with a rather large box in her small hands. “This one's from us!”

By us, he assumed she meant her and their parents. Ty took the box and noticed the usual colorful wrapping paper was not on this particular gift, replaced with pure gray instead.

He tore into the ugly paper with relish and opened the box. Its contents were as boring as the paper. You'd think, being thirteen and all, he'd get something pretty awesome. But no, what he found inside the box were pairs of socks packed into it, neater than his dresser contents.

Surely, he thought, this is a joke.

He moved the socks around, looking the box over in its entirety. There was nothing else in it.

His family smiled back at him, serious about the gift.

“Socks,” his father said. “You can never have too many. A man needs to keep his feet warm.”

Now, he thought, they will break down laughing and admit it was a joke.

They didn't.

“Now for my gift!” His grandmother said with a cheer he hadn't heard from her in a long time.

She reached behind the couch and pulled out a box so big that Lily could fit in it and have a tea party with several of her stuffed animals.

She plopped it down at his feet. He stared at her.

“Grandma, you already gave me my present, remember? Gentry.”

“Who, dear?”

“What? Gentry! Grandpa made him, and—”

Ty could tell she really had no idea what he was talking about.

“Perhaps you dreamed about that,” she suggested. “Yes, that's probably it.”

No, it wasn't, not at all. And he was going to tell her, too, but she interrupted him.

“Go on, open it.”

“I—”

“Open it, open it!” Lily chanted.

Ty sighed, ripped the same gray wrapping paper off and threw it to the ground. He slowly pulled the box open, terrified at what he might find.

The contents of the gift weren't scary, but they weren't pleasant, either. It was filled to the brim with underwear as neatly folded as the socks.

Ty rummaged through them for something—anything—else. He found nothing but underwear of every color imaginable. Some had patterns that were so obscure and weird he didn't even know they existed, let alone that they made underwear of them.

“Underwear,” his grandmother said. “Even more important than socks.”

His parents nodded in agreement.

They’re all crazy! he thought as he backed out of the room.

“What's the matter, son?” asked his father.

“Yes, don't you like your gifts?” His mother chimed in.

Ty almost laughed. “No, I don't! What kind of kid would want nothing but socks and underwear?”

“A poor or homeless child,” his father replied.

He had a point…

“But you are not a child.”

His family agreed again. Even Lily.

He had a feeling in his gut that he should get the heck out of there. He spun on his heels and set off for the kitchen and… walked right into his father.

“What? But—you were over there…” Ty said, to no one in particular.

“What's this?” His father's hand darted to Ty's side and yanked his sword from his grip. “I seem to have missed one.”

“Give that back!” Ty tried to snatch it, but his father lifted it above his head. Ty leapt for the weapon, feeling foolish.

“No,” his father said forcefully. “I shall put this with the rest of your things. Surely you've noticed their absence?”

His father's teeth were perfect, white, and straight, but Ty got a very San-ish vibe from his smile.

“Yes, I did.” Ty's voice shook a little. Without his sword he was even less enthusiastic about the situation. “What have you done with them?”

“I've thrown them out.” He moved to the front door. “Come and see.”

He disappeared out the door and the rest of the family filed out behind him. Ty ran after them, tipping his grandmother's gift over in his haste, spilling underwear out everywhere.

He stopped as soon as he set foot outside. In his front yard were all of his missing things, piled up to the sky. He saw every toy, game, and children's book he ever owned. There were even some things he lost years ago. The only object missing was Gentry. That, at least, was some good news.

As he looked closer, however, he noticed something even worse. The entire pile was covered with oil, and his father stood beside it, holding a lit match.

“Whoa! Stop that!” Ty shouted as he pushed past his family and leapt down the front steps.

His father released the match.

Ty watched it fall in slow motion. He could do nothing, frozen where he was as it landed in the oil-soaked fire hazard. Flames burst to life, leaving destruction in their wake.

As all his earthly possessions burned, Ty was unmoving, in a state of shock.

He glanced at his family, disturbed by what he saw. They grinned at him. As if burning his things was a real gift. Lily ran in circles in the yard, clapping.

That sight was what hit him with dread. What was wrong? This was not his family. Even his father would never do something like this.

His father—he still had his sword!

As that fact dawned on him, and Ty dashed across the yard, he knew he was too late.

His father threw the sword into the inferno.

His sword was more important than all his other belongings put together—he couldn't lose it! He fell to his knees at the base of the fire. He tried for the sword, pulling his hands back as the flames licked at them.

He bit his lip and plunged his hand in as deep as he could, fighting against every reflex that told him he was an idiot, to pull his hand out. His fingers touched the hilt right as a layer of toys beneath it burnt away, burying the sword deeper into the flames.

Tears filled his eyes. He slammed his burnt fists into the grass. It was gone. His last source of protection, his only weapon... gone.

He felt numb as he got to his feet and ran back to the poor imitation of his house. The only thing he comprehended through his dread was his father's laughter behind him.

#

Gentry lay at his feet. San's plasma dripped from all of his joints, rendering his body useless. Not that it mattered; he was out cold, the darkness torn away from his wooden body and returned to the cloak. Asleep. Still as the body that wore it. It was over.

San looked around the area; it wasn't a pretty sight. The entirety of the Center Square was ravished. There wasn't a patch of cement still in one piece. Outside the square, however, was perfectly fine, as if an earthquake hit in the middle of the street and left everything else untouched.

He wouldn't have admitted it out loud, but San felt lucky to be alive. He saved himself by making a sort of plasma bubble around his body before Gentry's shadows hit. Even with that, several of the bigger tendrils cut through with little effort. San's coat was positively ruined.

The only reason the puppet lay motionless before him and San still had his life was because the second Gentry tore his makeshift shield to pieces, the puppet blacked out. After that, it was a simple task to restrain him. It was his lucky day.

The boy is gone, San thought in the back of his mind.

Yes, that was true; the door was wide open. But what did it matter? He thought to himself as he started back for his factory, Gentry in one of his massive hands. I have his friend.

San smiled. Oh yes. This boy's mind was the most fun yet.