Initiation
Chapter Eleven (Fall, 2000)
(8.5k words, ~40 min read)
Boomerang Arcade used to be a family-owned burger building called Belgian Grill House, constructed in 1911 by Gredd and Harriette Crutche (pronounced ‘croosh’) before burgers were a big deal. Brick and mortar held it up back when Winton was young and video games didn’t exist and the same brick and mortar still supported it now. During the remodeling the owners and staff strung Christmas lights, pop-culture props, and boomerang decals to make the space feel cozier, darker and closed-in.
The current owner, Martin Turner, had watched generations of gamers enjoy his business, from the arcade’s conception in 1983 all the way to the present, 2000. He’d replaced video games that broke and bought the latest ones (though there weren’t any recent games due to the coming of the NES and playstation.) It seemed video games were becoming less of a trip into town and more of a stay-home pastime. Martin enjoyed the social aspect of arcade booths and how there was room for only one or two players at a time, how you needed to share and let others take turns and rejoice at other peoples’ victories; It seemed to bring people closer than the games you could take home. It prodded the usually introverted gamers into a social event. Genius!
Open hours were from 9am to 6pm Mondays through Thursdays, and on weekends, noon to one in the morning. Five bucks to get in and you got to play all you wanted. Only the pinball machines needed cash once you were in. Martin’s Saturdays and Friday nights were the busiest. Lots of teenagers and families. Sunday afternoons were prime outdoors days for some reason. It didn’t seem to rain as much on the weekends, as if Pennsylvania wanted them to enjoy it.
The one person who hung around Boomerang Arcade was a homeless man named Randy James Baxendale at birth, but was called Teddy and nobody knew why. Teddy had been hitchhiking since the sixties, getting by on odd jobs and sleeping wherever. In his better days as a younger man, he was a stoner. His hitchhiking landed him in Winton where he decided the money came and went at a pace he could match and he settled. The alleys around the Arcade protected from the wind very well and there was always the dumpster left over from the family-owned grill palace that he could sleep in. The agreement was: Teddy minded his own business and stayed out of sight and Marty allowed him to stay in the dumpster. Everyone knew Teddy the Hobo. He used to be strange and outgoing, but the hitchhiking and small town must have taught him something because he became of few words and spent much of the day meditating next to Boomerang Arcade, minding his business perfectly.
Blink had woken up earlier than usual, excited about the initiation. Jefferey, his older brother on the bottom bunk, was asleep; asleep unless he was making money or partying. Their dad was also asleep, working off nine shots of tequila, three Budweisers he wouldn’t remember, and a cigarette. He was cleaning out the pantry of the old alcohol and got a little carried away. That kind of carried away was only a few occurrences from habit.
Blink dressed. Geared up. He put on his New Balance tennis shoes, the ones he didn’t mow in, and a long sleeve so his arms didn’t look so skinny. Adjusted his glasses. Wiped them clean after a couple of breaths to cloud them up. He even combed his hair with his black, plastic comb. He didn’t remember where it came from, so he liked to pretend it was from his mom. Then he took a step back from the mirror and looked at himself.
Fucking nerd would be what his older brother would say. Glasses, hair that he slightly cared for and a long sleeve.
“Fuck you, Jefferey,” Blink told the mirror and sighed. Those caustic words had a pleasant burn. Jefferey was mean to him all the time anyway.
Blink was looking good, but sometimes he just had to convince himself of it. This was a special occasion, a special time. He was about to get into a club, the Astronomy Club. And one of the tasks was biking! He loved biking.
Blink had pocketed his fishing knife he’d found in a bush once when he and his dad were mowing the baseball fields. He was goofing off picking raspberries while his dad was blowing the last of the grass off the clay. He’d then seen the fishing knife, almost perfect condition, in the bush. But even with his knife, he felt he was missing something.
“Hm.” This wasn’t just a special occasion, this was a celebration. It was time to ‘make merry’. He thought about his dad, passed out in bed, a snoring noise like someone was attaching and ripping apart velcro for hours. That was how his dad celebrated. It seemed logical enough: strong drink for celebration. Mr. Mayer kept his older flasks in a box on the floor, a whole wooden box of them. Other people had photo albums, paintings, letters or baby clothes… the Mayers had flasks. Blink knew his dad wouldn’t miss one for one day.
He went to the pantry and looked the liquor shelf from top to bottom. He’d tried several of the liquors in the past and decided they were nasty. But maybe when you share nasty drinks with many people, it makes it better somehow. He crouched and slid the box on the floor out and looked through the little metal containers. Most of them were neutral-colored, but Blink remembered there being one flask he always loved. With the leather cover and the pop-off cap. It was green and solid. He found it and lifted it up to his smiling face.
“Nice,” He tapped it. Still solid, though the leather was much drier now. He rinsed it and walked back to the liquor cabinet. It needed to be filled.
Wine didn’t go well in a flask. He’d never seen it in a flask before. Or heard of that.
Tequila, maybe. But was there anything else?
Schnapps? Peach schnapps? Nah.
Scotch, nope. Something called Grand Trick. It was another wine, so nope. Champagne? Blink shrugged thinking maybe.
Beer? Too light. It didn’t get you drunk. He’d seen his dad and Jefferey drink cases of that without flinching.
His eyes passed over the Fireball bottle and remembered its gritty taste. Yuck.
Krupnik. For the cold. He’d had it a couple times. It cured your sore throat right up, yessir. Cured it like a landmine cleans a road: in one whammo.
His eyes passed over the vodka. The Tito’s label. That was what he was looking for. The highest amount of alcohol in this one at 40%. Yummy.
Thock. The empty flask said as he placed it on the peeling, fake marble counter.
Plup. The mostly filled Tito’s bottle said.
Blink was too careful to spill. The same hands that had reeled in hundreds of fish could surely fill a flask without spilling, no problem. And he did it too. Not a drop missed. And he placed the bottle back exactly how he found it. Then he put the flask in his pocket, all eight ounces of vodka packed into the container, not even room to swish inside. He hoped it wasn’t too obvious. Probably be mistaken for a wallet. Nobody would suspect. And who cared anyway?
Blink went to the garage, opened it and hopped on his bike. Stood and built some speed with the pedals under his feet. He had an initiation to get to.
The three Astronomers waited on their bikes for the three initiates to arrive and discussed what games they were going to play. Each member carried ten dollars just in case one of the initiates didn’t have money.
They were now planning to do the biking part first and to meet at the Arcade. They’d meet here first and then head to the Oceanside neighborhoods. They were called ‘Oceanside’ because they were the furthest east that neighborhoods in Winton stretched. Closest to the ocean even though they were still a good ways off.
The three to-be Astronomers arrived, Blink alone while Marshall and Mariah had met each other again on the way. Pretty, Langley, and Myles were on their bikes and explained the change of plans and led them to the neighborhood that was Oceanside.
“I thought that was a gated community,” Marshall said. His dad sometimes complained about the gates and how slow they take when enforcement is trying to save lives. Only once did Officer Baker see someone clang right into the gate and send its aluminum bars flying outward. That was the last car chase he’d been in and he relayed all of the details to his kids with vigor.
“It is. But we just wait until a car goes out and head inside the backward gate. You can’t take the other one because the car’ll see you in the mirrors.” Langley said.
“Man, my dad has all the overrides. The gates all have overrides that let law enforcement and other emergency vehicles in. He could have helped us I bet.” Marshall said.
“Oh well,” Myles said. “Maybe next time.”
“I’ve never really done anything like this before… are you sure it’s like… legal?” Marshall asked.
“Heck, we were only chased out once. We aren’t hurting anything.” Pretty said.
“Isn’t it trespassing? Pretty sure it is. We’re on private property without permission or allowance…?” Marshall said.
“Yeah, but they have the perfect curbs to ride on.” Pretty explained. “All the other curbs are either rounded or they’re too long or too short. There are some, one on Thunderbird Road and another on Thunderbird Circuit. Important distinction. The Circuit ends in a culdesac and Road didn’t. Road had much more spaced-out houses and made bigger curbs. Wide, square curbs too. Perfect for biking.”
It made sense to Mariah, Marshall, and Blink.
“How’d you find this place in the first place?” Mariah said. “I’ve never been here.”
They were only a few blocks away, coasting along Main Street with Young Park on their right when Pretty answered: “We like to bike around. That’s part of why we made biking half of the initiation. You guys seem pretty good already, but we gotta be sure. And heck, who doesn’t like riding curbs?”
Mariah was already quite good at it. When there was nothing else to challenge you (her parents wouldn’t let her or Robert get ramps), you make roads and bike courses out of chalk. She drove a 3-inch wide line without getting any chalk on it for thirty-three feet. Nobody she knew could do that. It took them forever to draw the two perfect lines of chalk.
Marshall rode his bike a lot, but wasn’t in the habit of challenging himself to many things that were new. He was a skilled rider, but he saw his bike as a tool, not so much a toy.
Blink was an expert rider. None of them knew it yet, but he could ride better than any of them.
The six kids found themselves trying to act casual and waiting by the exit-portion of the gate outside of Oceanside. While they waited, they chatted about The Iron Giant.
“See, if we had a junkyard and a guy like Dean, we’d have so much cooler stuff.” Langley said.
“Please, junkyards are so dangerous. Metal and shit could stick you right in the arm.” Myles said. “You could bleed out or worse, get trapped in a fridge and nobody would find you. Do you want to get trapped in a fridge, Langley?”
“I’d just want to have an Iron Giant,” Blink said.
“Hell-ck yeah,” Pretty side-eyed Mariah.
“You know, one thing I actually liked about Iron Giant was there wasn’t some random girl that the kid had to fall in love with.” Marshall looked at Mariah. “No offense. Have you seen it?”
She shook her head. “I’ve just heard a lot of boys quoting it and some of them joking that they cried for the scene where he blows up. Does he blow up? I’ve seen what he looks like.”
“I’m not telling.” Marshall said and looked at the other boys. They all motioned one by one that they were zippering their mouths shut. Langley made a show of locking his mouth up and snapping the invisible key in half.
“But I will say, it was an awesome movie. This kid Hogarth… is that how you say his name?”
“Hoguard.” Pretty, Blink, and Langley corrected.
“Hoguard. Stumbles upon this huge metal guy from space and the huge metal guy is really innocent and gets to learn about life and stuff. And in the end the Iron Giant has to fight the army.” Marshall said. “I won’t say any more. You gotta see it, it’s a really good movie.”
Mariah was flattered that someone would think she’d have the opportunity. And that someone didn’t assume straight away that she wasn’t into that kind of show. It sounded very interesting to her. But… “My parents don’t really let me watch TV.”
Pretty and Myles already knew this was the case. She was made fun of at school a lot for it. The boys knew this because in attempts to get closer to Mariah, they’d heard some nasty things said to her, and other remarks and pokes. Exclusion.
“Weird that you’d not be allowed to watch TV after all the stuff you see at school, don’t you think?” Pretty said.
Mariah nodded like she was tired. She’d thought of this a lot. “It’s dumb. And I’ll probably never see it. Does the Iron Giant beat the army?”
“Guys, there’s someone leaving now!” Myles whispered and they all looked.
“Alright, act natural.” Pretty said. “We gotta let them go by and then drive once they start turning. So they don’t see us. Uh, to answer your question, yeah, he whups the tar out of the army. Turns out he was a battle machine and he’s like sixty feet tall. He just wrecks them with these huge blasters and cannons that come out of his arms.”
“My favorite weapon was that disc that spun and the little fingers tapped and it shot like lightning,” Blink said. “That whole fight was so cool. And fuck Mansley. Oh, sorry Mariah.” He said that without sarcasm. He didn’t want her to feel uncomfortable. Strange, usually he didn’t care. But now he did.
Once Blink had started talking, Pretty watched the car leave. “Alright, ready?” And he took off, Langley close behind and Myles behind him. Blink and Mariah sped to catch up and Marshall slipped into the neighborhood with them.
The road was beautifully smooth and black. Not as worn as other neighborhoods. And the curbs! Oh the beautiful curbs! Tan concrete square curbs of all sizes. Built in 1996 by Huckles Construction.
“Wow, these curbs really are good.” Marshall said.
“I’ve never been here before,” Mariah said, noting the larger houses and well-kept lawns.
“Me either. This is across town for me.”
“We came here a few times last summer because we wanted to do something fun. And that’s when we found these perfect curbs.” Pretty said.
“So what’s the initiation?”
“Glad you asked. Langley? Would you like to explain?”
Langley took pride in being the fastest and strongest biker among the Astronomers and asked Pretty for the chance to head up the Biking portion of the Initiation.
“There are three curbs that we’re gonna have you ride. You get fifteen minutes to complete each one, but we think you’ll have ‘em done before that. Myles has a stopwatch on his watch.” Langley said.
“Oh, shit, Langley I don’t have my watch.”
“I do,” Marshall said. “I got mine.” A dark green Casio with orange decals.
“Nice, then we’ll use yours. Thanks, Marshall.”
“Can I go first?” the watch-wearer asked.
“Sure. The first curb is this one.” Langley pointed to it. They had rolled up to two houses that were separated by about twenty feet. The driveways were separated by three times that much and that was how long the level curb was.
“Alright, whenever you’re ready, go ahead and start the stopwatch and get ‘er done.” Langley said.
The Bug saluted and Marshall started the stopwatch. Blink, Myles and Mariah watched Marshall get a feel for the curb and how it would ride. It was always the same thing: you didn’t want to fall toward the grass, but you didn’t want to kachunk off the curb either. It was that split second of no control that made the whole venture so difficult. The whole curb was a whopping sixty feet and he didn’t think he could do it at first. But when he found he’d made it over halfway on his fifth try, his hope was rekindled. Thirteen tries later and with nine minutes left, Marshall completed the First Curb.
After a quick whoop in celebration, Marshall said: “There are two more after this, right?”
“Yep. Nice job. Alright, who wants to go now?”
“I will.” Mariah said. She’d never done anything like this. She’d never broken into a gated neighborhood. She’d never ridden curbs like this, but she had control. They’d see.
She pedaled up to the driveway to start the sixty-foot drive and straightened out. Aligned with the curb, about five inches across, and on one side there was the yard. On the other, the street.
She used the speed she had to keep the line straight and instead of Marshall’s finesse, she kept her eyes ten feet ahead and trusted the rest of her body to feel that the wheels were still on the curb. Her second try was similar, and her third try was almost perfect.
Her fourth try was a success.
Myles watched with interest. Curb-riding wasn’t easy. In fact, he knew few kids who could do it well and quickly. Maybe they’d made the challenge too hard? He was shocked that Mariah and Marshall were able to complete that curb in such a short time. It was almost like this was how it was supposed to be. These three were supposed to join the Astronomy Club, the same feeling he’d felt in clearing when he offered them a chance at initiation. It was like a Greater Power was residing and making sure the Club was complete.
“Blink, you ready?”
Blink didn’t answer, he just started pedaling.
Langley looked to Marshall. “Start the stopwatch.” The watch made a little deet as Marshall started it. Then they watched.
Blink was smooth and sure on the bike. It was satisfying to watch; he knew what he was doing. And he rode up on the curb, rolled along it, still pedaling like he was just taking a cruise down an empty highway, and on his first try, completed the sixty-foot curb.
“Holy crap.” Langley said.
“Nice drive.” Myles said. “We’re ready for the second one.”
They rounded a few more corners and even Blink who considered himself pretty good with directions was second guessing how to escape this maze of houses.
Langley pointed to a drain on the edge of one of the driveways. The curb began and curved at the corner where a large concrete drain, like a quarter-slot for sewer caps, was built. The curb rode about ten feet in a little curve to the corner and then there was a small concrete slab on top of the drain level with the curb.
“This is your next curb to ride. You just gotta get onto the top of the drain. The first curb was the hardest. We don’t want these challenges to be, like, impossible.” Langley said.
“I’ll go first.” Blink said.
“Alright.” The five other kids watched Blink Mayer drive down the street a few yards and turn skillfully around. Then he rode deftly up onto the curb, glided down the thin alley of concrete and smoothly rode the curve onto the storm drain.
First try, again. Langley thought.
How it’s supposed to be. Myles thought.
“I’ll go.” Mariah said and started pedaling. Blink was balancing on his bike with one leg on the ground like he’d claimed the drain covering. When Mariah started pedaling, he bunnyhopped off and joined the others. Marshall was still shocked at the fluidity of Blink’s single attempts. An expert biker. Probably better than any of the Astronomers here.
Mariah only needed two tries. She didn’t have enough lean in her pass on the first try, but on the second attempt, she almost slipped into the grass, but was able to pull it off and stop on top of the drain. She grinned at the boys. She was glad she was keeping up.
Marshall gave her two thumbs-up plus a grin and Langley was also smiling in approval. “Nice!”
Marshall hadn’t started his stopwatch for any of the attempts. He just knew they were going to pass quickly. Mariah drove off of the drain and headed to the line of onlookers sitting on bikes. As she moved, Marshall began biking as well, getting a head-start to complete the task.
“This is how it’s done ladies,” Marshall said and started slowly. Just enough speed to go all the way without pedaling. Pedaling throws off the straight line. But if you have too much speed, you get a straight line and less control over where you’re going.
Marshall fell off his first try.
“Nice one. Glad I know how to do it, Mr. Gentleman.” Blink said.
Marshall gave Blink a smile and the finger.
Blink laughed. So did Mariah.
She laughs at the weirdest times. I can’t figure her out. Pretty thought. It was oddly attractive. She never doubted her femininity for a second, but she also didn’t question her ability to do exactly what a boy could do. She was in no way better than the boys and she didn’t act like it either. But Pretty was sure none of the boys here thought her any less than themselves. So what made girls different aside from what was between their legs? They were weaker. That was biological. But they weren’t less important? If anything, they were more important. And a lot of them could do what boys do, but they just decided not to and found other things more fun. So maybe the difference was in the decisions? And it wasn’t unfair? Unless the only way to find value in yourself was to lift weights.
Marshall took four tries total. His first three he made the same mistake of falling into the grass on the right side. He kept slipping off the curb and the second and third failures were met with encouraging remarks from the other five.
This may have given him the fuel he needed to buckle down and focus on the wheel. Maybe he was looking at the wheels too much. He kept his eyes on the goal this time. Like Blink did. And that worked.
The five others cheered as he drifted onto the final concrete platform.
“Alright, I’m psyched now. What’s the last one, chief?” Marshall said, biking off of the platform. He was looking at the Leader, Pretty.
“Right this way, Mr. Baker, sir.”
“What’re you kids doin’ on my driveway?”
All of the young heads turned to look at a man on his porch. It was George Einfault, one of sons of the old guys (Grant Einfault) who chased Blink away from the Best Fishing Spot in Winton. But Blink didn’t know this and neither did George. Right now, George was in a white tee and tan shorts. He looked like he’d just gotten up from a mid-grade television show to yell at the kids outside. The first step toward becoming an old man.
“Initiation into the Astronomy Club.” Pretty said back. He had stayed confident while the rest of the members and initiates felt a fire of panic in their stomachs when they were asked. They instantly remembered that this wasn’t their neighborhood and they could get in trouble at any second.
“What’s that?”
“Well, part of the initiation involves riding curbs. We just finished this one and now we’re headed to Allen’s Street.” Pretty pointed down the street. “That’s the last one.”
George gave a quick glance to where Pretty was pointing and looked back. “Quit driving on my grass.” And he went back inside.
“Fuck you too, fucking prick. Go fuck yourself, asshole.” Pretty said, holding up a couple of middle fingers at the house Mr. Einfault returned to. He dropped them. “Sorry Mariah. C’mon, let’s go.”
When the rest of the kids heard Pretty talk like that, they collectively felt safer and stronger. Nobody could tell the invincible Beau Lewis and his fellow Astronomers off, no sir. His merry men and their Leader would beat the ever-living fuck out of any asshole that came in their way. Even if that asshole was just asking you to get off his grass.
“Don’t feel bad about swearing around me.” Mariah said. “I know they slip out sometimes. It’s just that I don’t say that kind of stuff.”
Langley looked at Myles. “She’s kinda awesome.”
Mariah smiled. Pretty watched her and sighed happily.
“The final curb is about as hard as the last one,” Langley said as six bikes whizzed around the Oceanside neighborhood. “We put the hardest one first so we could see how dedicated you were. And we’ve never done this before, so we also didn’t know it was going to be that hard. Or how hard the test should be. Anyway, this last one is down a pretty steep hill and has a couple of chunks out of it. We think there was either bed concrete used, or there was a wreck or something. And it’s right up there. If you wipe out… that sucks. I did one time and you can still see the burn marks on my shoulder.”
The three initiates biked up the hill and rode down the hill, one at a time, like racers flawlessly rounding a bend in a hum like a beehive. It was a satisfying sight, three bikers, one after another whisking down the shorter curb. Each completed it on their first try.
Langley, Myles and Pretty all started clapping and cheering for the finishing of the first half of the initiation. “Congratulations, half-Astronomers.” Pretty said before putting both hands on the handlebars. “Now, for the final test, I sure hope you brought money, because we’re heading to the Arcade.”
When they did arrive, each on their bikes, they parked them in the bike rack. Only Marshall locked his up. He could do it in under seven seconds, he’d become so efficient at it. The rest of the kids had much more trust in the honesty of the town and left their bikes as they were.
The six bikers entered the arcade. It was darker, no windows, but that was part of the fun. They gathered up at the counter where Marty was. Nobody called him ‘Martin’; in fact, almost zero patrons knew since his nametag always read ‘Marty’ in a chipped cambria font.
“One,” Pretty said, handing in the money.
Myles stepped up next and handed his own. Then Langley. Marshall had his five ready next with his other hand tapping the quarters in his other pocket. Mariah placed a five-dollar bill on the counter and Blink did the same.
“Enjoy, gentlemen and lady,” Marty said, gesturing openly to the arcade.
“Thanks,” “Thanks, Marty.” “Thank you.” “Thanks.”
They walked into the mess of flashing lights and video games. It smelled contained and stale, but filled with life and tasted like how neon looks. All of the kids took a second to breathe in the sounds and let their ears adjust. The blacklight overhead made Myles’ Doc Ock shirt glow and stand out. When Pretty saw it, he looked at his own to see if his blank navy-blue shirt did anything cool like Myles’. Nope. Just showed where some of the dandruff had fallen. He quickly swished it off and looked to see if anyone had seen that.
Pretty seemed excited and wanted to jump into the games as well.
“Can we have like ten minutes to play and think about what games we want to play and then regroup and start the initiation?” Langley proposed.
“Yeah,” Pretty said and looked around for a clock. Marshall slipped his coat sleeve up to reveal his watch.
“One past one.” Marshall said. “Meet back here at one-one-one?”
“Yeah.” The Leader said. “See you then.”
Myles and Pretty jumped for the Galaga and started tussling over it.
Mariah and Blink laughed inwardly at that and the rest dispersed. Blink followed Langley around; for some reason he felt safe around the tall, usually-hooded kid. Gentle giant. He followed the Bug until they reached Frogger. “I’ll play a practice round with you.” Langley said. “Or is that unfair for the grading? I think it’s supposed to be more cold-turkey playing than that.”
“It’s alright, I just want to watch for now anyway,” Blink said.
He watched Langley boot up the machine and watched the little frog start crossing the street. All the blips and bloops and neon lights in the darkness made the arcade seem cozy, made everywhere seem like nighttime. It was hotter in here now that he thought about it. Blink tapped his pocket. Boing boing went the metal flask.
Full of Tito’s vodka. Blink had tasted some before, his dad let him sip some. He’d gagged on it, the stuff had made him nauseous, but then it went away. It wasn’t burning like all of the stories he’d read said. It was more like the alcohol had taken a running start and skidded all the way down his throat. He wondered if any of the other Astronomers had tried some of the Devil’s Water. He bet Mariah Smith hadn’t. As he watched Langley’s frog hop onto an alligator and get snapped up like a Froot Loop, he started to wonder what possessed him to bring a flask of vodka in the first place?
Celebration. That was why. It was a celebration that all of the Astronomers were together. It had just felt right. It was an experience they’d have together, another thing that would bring them together because they needed to be together.
“Dangit.” Langley slapped the game console. “I was doing alright, but I died so fast. Once I lose the first life, it’s like my games are numbered. I can’t do good if I lose the first life too early on.”
“The games are always numbered. How else would you know the number of lives?” Blink said.
“Wise guy, huh?” Langley said, but in his mind he was quoting a line from a Scrooge McDuck comic and grinned. The two relaxed and looked back at the screen. “Well, I would ask you what your best game is, but I think you should keep that a secret until we’re to play you, in case you don’t beat us in our games,” Langley said.
Blink saw the logic.
Marshall headed to Dig Dug. He thought he was good at it a while ago, but realized he wasn’t all that good. He just excelled at the first five levels. He’d rather strengthen the games he wasn’t good at than practice the ones he was really good at (Tetris, Q*bert, Rally-x, and Pac-man) and then the ones he was semi-good at (Tron, Mortal Kombat II, Joust, and any of the pinball machines, though those bored him quickly).
Mariah went directly to her warm-up game. She always started a Boomerang Arcade session with Donkey Kong, didn’t stop until she’d beaten the first level, and then saw how far she could get from there. That was when she felt her gaming mode was finally activated. It was like warming up your voice with a certain song before singing all-out. She beat it on her second try before moving on to the Asteroids booth. Nobody ever played that game; she wondered why because it was a lot of fun. On her way, she passed Langley and Blink watching him. She wondered if anyone thought it was a coincidence that they all were competent arcade game players. Maybe it was another sign of creativity. Maybe playing arcade games made the fraise stronger. Probably hurt it more than helped in the long run. But that didn’t matter: the fraise was strong in all of them. As she passed Blink, she felt something, a word. Celebration. And it was accompanied by a little tickle in her throat that she’d never felt before. A celebration that would bring all of them together. It was like the arcade was another excuse to have fun together. Whatever it was, she was glad she could be at the arcade. She wondered what Myles was doing seconds before spotting him looking over Beau Lewis’ shoulder at the Galaga stand.
Ten minutes passed and the five other kids gathered around Marshall who was on the seventh level of Dig-Dug. He was on his last life when Blink and Langley completed the sextuplet and watched him die several seconds later when a dragon spat fire through a thin wall and killed him.
“Shiiiiiiioooot.” Marshall remembered Mariah was around and restrained foul language. “I thought that wall was thick enough to keep the fire away. Drat.”
“Alright, well, we got our first game to play. Who wants to play the Astronomers first?” Pretty said.
No takers at first. Then Blink raised his hand. Watching Langley’s subpar playing gave him some confidence. “I’ll do it.”
“Nice. Myles and I decided the first game is good ol’ Pac-man up front.” Pretty said. “And Langley is gonna play you first.”
All six of the kids walked to the booth in question. Langley hit the Two Player button and announced that he would be Player 1. Langley almost finished the first level before he died and handed the controls to Blink.
Blink showed no concern. He’d played Pac-man enough to know a few things. He’d read up on this game. He had observed his dad play on this very booth before. And apparently Mr. Marino next door had all of the records back in ‘95 before a power-outage wiped all of the scores. Mr. Marino told about the path that would work on the first and third levels pretty well, but the second one was supposed to trip you up. Blink had heard that all of the levels built on themselves pretty well, but he couldn’t argue with the guy who’d broken all of the Pac-Man records in Winton, Wilkes-Barre, and several machines around the Philadelphia Airport.
Blink made it to the fourth level before he lost his first life. The Astronomers were silent and Langley was jinxed. He died before he’d reached and eaten fifteen dots. “Damn.” He muttered.
Blink assumed the controls again and trounced another level before dying. They saw the apple added onto his growing stack of fruit.
Langley had one life left and he lost it after beating the second level. “Dang.”
The round was even shorter. Blink finessed the little yellow puck around the screen while Langley’s skills seemed to falter. They were so atrocious, Myles asked: “Are you losing on purpose?” To which Langley shook his head in frustration.
After beating the Bug, Blink killed himself and Pretty stepped up. “Alright, that was impressive. But you haven’t played me. We let you take Langley because he sucks.”
“Hey, dummy, watch your piehole.” Langley said, grinning. He stepped away from the game and let the Leader take over.
Pretty booted up another Two Player game, but this time he let Blink go first. Blink did worse, only scoring up to the beginning of the third level before losing his first life.
Pretty was about to complete the second level before the ghosts (Inky and Pinky) trapped and killed him.
Blink passed another two levels.
Pretty died on the third level.
Blink beat Pretty in the first round.
“Good games,” Pretty said, not meaning it. He wanted to win, to make the initiation a little more interesting. But Myles, who knew this was exactly how everything was to play out, was already riveted to the situation and watched intently.
Blink began a new game as Player 1 and as he passed level after level, the movement and activity from the kids behind him quieted. Even their breath seemed to fade. He was in a mode of focus. When he finally died, he saw that he was on the eighth level.
As the little yellow circle blipped into nothing, Blink looked at the Astronomy Club Leader’s face. “Alright.” The curly-haired Astronomer said. “My turn.”
Pretty’s sprite ran around the screen and chomped up the dots, all the way to the first orange before dying.
But the contenders only made it two more levels each on their last lives before the game had ended.
The Leader leaned away from the game, defeated and at ease.
“Welcome, Blink, our newest Astronomer!” Langley nearly shouted.
Then the entire group, Marshall being the loudest and most excited, cheered and welcomed Blink as the newest member of the Club.
Once the quick cheer died down, Pretty shook Blink’s hand. “Well played. He… beat two out of three of us. So… Blink passed the first part. Nice work!” Langley also congratulated the smiling victor. And then Myles who was also genuinely happy. More than that, he felt relieved.
Pretty said. “Blink blazed through us in the first game we threw at him… didn’t even have the chance to play him in any others, but I’m going to after the other initiations. So, who’s next?”
“I’ll do it,” Mariah said. She could have been more warmed up, but that was okay. She’d pass if it were the will of God and if it wasn’t then it wasn’t. Either way, she was going down God’s path. She wondered if any of the boys understood this: Following this path was how she’d abolished her fear.
Pretty felt himself smile and his body become warmer. It was that little hibachi grill in his stomach that went ablaze and flared up in skinny leaves. While his stomach simmered, Myles proposed the first game. “Joust.” A game at which nobody could beat him.
Langley and Pretty knew this and said nothing. Pretty was terrible at Joust. Langley had only beaten Myles thrice out of many, many attempts.
That was what Mariah Smith thought about on the way to the Joust booth. Myles wanted to play second. He wanted to see how good Mariah was.
Langley stepped up. “You play this before?”
Mariah nodded.
“Want a quick practice match, just to warm up?” Langley said, looking at her and then at Pretty who nodded the ‘ok’.
“Sure.”
“Alright.”
“Why does she get a warm-up?” Blink asked.
“Because Joust is a lot harder. Takes a lot more finesse.” Langley explained.
It only occurred to Myles later that maybe Langley wanted to go easy on the only girl, but he shook that idea off: Langley had a truthful reputation and Myles would have known if he was lying. He also thought Langley needed the warmup match just as much as Mariah.
Soon, the ostriches on the screen were bouncing around stomping both enemies and each other until Langley, with one life, tapped the top of her knight and she popped out of existence.
“Aww, man,” Mariah said. “Good game.”
“Good game. Ready to play for real?” Langley asked.
“Yeah.” She wiped her hands on her jeans. The controls had been greasy to begin with, but only a sap would make that excuse. She readjusted her grip and watched Langley begin a two-person game.
They began playing again, working together this time to kill the enemies. Their scores were the only thing that they were concerned about; beating the score of the other. Langley died early on and that meant trouble. Myles knew Langley lost a lot of confidence with the loss of that life. He even saw the Bug mouth ‘fuck’ to the screen.
Mariah’s ostrich and knight were doing well, flapping along the screen, whisking across and through one side of the screen, appearing at the other and bopping the heads of the flying birds. She’d turn them into eggs and flap through another lap to collect the egg on the next pass. She was in the zone now, until she killed the last bird. Then she and Langley began the next with their characters in a standing position in the middle. They were to work together again. Mariah wasn’t looking at the score, but if she did, she’d see she was twice as much as Langley.
When Myles felt the whole group relaxing, he refocused and saw that Langley had lost.
Mariah had tripled the Bug’s points.
“Alright, let’s go again!” Langley didn’t even look at her, but she could tell he was trying not to laugh. “And let’s switch controllers. Pretty sure being on this side messed with me.”
“It’s on.” She started another game and they switched controllers.
The same thing happened to Langley. He lost a life early on and the entire game was ruined for him once again.
Mariah beat him in a two-out-of-three.
“Good game, wow.” Langley said and offered his hand. Mariah shook it.
“Got his ass kicked by a girl,” Blink sneered.
“Well, not just any girl,” Pretty said matter-of-factly and instantly hoped nobody heard him.
“I’m up,” Myles said. He stepped up to the controls Langley was using and wiped them off with his shirt. “Your nasty sweat ain’t gonna mess me up.” He said, looking at Langley who grinned and let his eyebrows hop up and down on his forehead..
“I want a fair fight, lady and gent. No spittin’, no fightin’, no cussin’, no ups-and-downs, no excuses, no buts, no ‘if’s, no…uh…” Langley almost said cock-shots and reconsidered.
Mariah tried to ignore what Pretty was going through. It was a much stronger feeling now, the feeling that he was looking at her closer than most boys did. It didn’t scare her, but it made her more aware of him when he was in the room.
She beat Myles soundly, twice in a row. Not as bad as Langley, but still with ease.
And this time, the rest of the Astronomers were ready. The second Myles lost his last life, the boys erupted into cheers that startled Mariah, but soon she was washed with gladness, relief that the initiation was over, and joined in on the cheering. She hugged Langley and Marshall and nodded to Pretty who smiled happily back.
“Congratulations, Mariah,” said all of the boys at different times.
Myles found a bit of courage to look her in the eye. “Good game, Smith.”
Mariah smiled and nodded, sincerely telling him: “Good game.”
“And welcome into the Astronomy Club!” Pretty said. “And I gotta say, I’ve only seen Langley beat Myles in Joust. That’s… impressive that you beat him.” He felt in his element, making a show of things.
“I believe Marshall is the only initiator person left,” Langley told Pretty.
“Interesting,” The Leader said. “You know? I think for next time, we should make the initiation process a lot harder because you guys have just run us into the ground.”
Mariah and Myles exchanged a glance. They were both thinking the same thing: What if there is no next time?
“So, I get to pick the last game,” Langley said, “and it’s gonna be Rally-X.”
Myles rolled his eyes. “Why do you like that game so much? I’m so bad at it.”
“Probably why you hate it, friend.”
“I’m third-string,” Myles said as the Bug led them back to the front of the arcade. The Rally-X booth was one of the newer stations in Boomerang Arcade, but somehow had the same amount of grease on the controls. But there was someone playing it right now.
“Drat,” Pretty said. “Alright, Marshall, plan B. You get to choose and play each of us. Now, we each have one life and you have two. If we’re able to defeat both of your lives, you can pick another game. If you happen to lose all of those, then we’ll do it the way we’ve been doing it. So, Marshall, what’ll it be?”
“Nice,” Marshall said, acknowledging the rules. “I choose Tron. And I want to play Myles first.”
Myles groaned. He hated Tron and was terrible at it, but he wasn’t going to show weakness. “That’s my absolute best game. Glad you chose it.”
Marshall looked at the Sage and hid a laugh. “Good to hear it as well, Mr. Willis. I’m about to destroy you. There are no laws in the arcade.”
“As it should be, Baker,” Myles jabbed back.
The six kids had walked up to the Tron machine and Marshall hit the Two-Player button.
“Can we have a warm-up?” Myles asked.
Marshall shook his head and grinned.
And he crushed Myles who swore revenge in blood and walked away muttering about how stupid the game was. The Sage had no idea how the four-quadrant game even worked. The tanks sector happened to be his downfall.
Marshall was laughing at how angry Myles had become. “I played you in this game because I’m pretty sure you could have beaten me at anything else.”
“So you were most afraid of me and that’s why you did that?”
Marshall nodded. “Yep. I’d probably have lost one of my two lives in playing you guys. Also, we have another game or two depending on if you win.”
Myles shook his head. “You beat me in that. But I’m challenging you to games of Pac-man and Rally-X once you make it through the initiation.”
“It’s on,” Marshall said. “And I want to play Pretty in this now. I just need to beat you.”
“Pride cometh before the fall, civilian,” Pretty said and stood alongside Marshall at the booth. No matter the stance, or experience, Pretty was also mercilessly beaten by the initiate.
Pretty was smiling. “Alright, that was quick.” And all of the Club was together now. Everyone was happy.
Myles knew why too. These three were supposed to be in the club. Like how the first and third Chronicles of Narnia books didn’t talk about the kids from the other books, but told the same story from a different angle. And since they were supposed to be here, a Greater Power was helping them along. Once again, Myles wondered if they were wasting time here. But it didn’t feel like it.
“I did it,” Marshall said. “I’m an Astronomer!” He raised his fist in victory. “Ha!”
And the loudest cheer of the day rose as the last member of the Astronomy Club of Winton, Pennsylvania was admitted.
“Welcome to the Astronomy Club, Marshall Baker.” Pretty announced.
And the middle-schoolers dispersed to different games. Myles beat Marshall in both of the games they’d agreed on.
. We think there was either bed concrete used, or there was a wreck or something.
Bed should be bad