New Boy Read online

  ~~ The End ~~

  Thank you for reading “New Boy,” the third short story in my Tales from Seelie High collection! I hoped you enjoyed it. If you did, please tell a friend or leave a review! I’d love to know what you thought.

  Aubrey Fredrickson

  Interviews about Dylan

  The following items were taken from the notes of Greer Douglas, a student reporter for Seelie High’s Druid Chronicles, and from the transcripts of several interviews conducted by Ms. Douglas on October 10, 2014.

  [Excerpt from Greer’s notes]

  I am grieved to report that my sources have failed me. I myself was occupied with matters of the highest importance during the first part of lunch and was therefore not in the courtyard to witness the new boy as he reportedly flung open the mysterious door, which has been rumored to lead to fairyland. Being detained in another part of campus, I regret that my sources failed to notify me of events in a timely manner and I did not hear of that incident until the school erupted in panic some twenty minutes later when the previously mentioned individual purportedly stepped through the door and vanished from our world.

  I am distressed that I am therefore unable to give a firsthand account of the stranger who was so briefly among us. However, I have gathered as much information regarding him as I was able under the circumstances. Sadly, he was in school so briefly and his presence and actions were so upsetting to the bulk of the student body that very few people were able, or willing, to tell me much about him.

  I have managed to ascertain that his name was, or possibly still is, Dylan Blake. He had come to New Elphame to live with Conor and Vivian Tierney, also newcomers to our fine town. Sources state that he was neither tall nor short, had black—or possibly dark brown—hair, and eyes of some shade which may have been green, brown, or greenish brown. One source mentioned that his nose was a “funny shape.” As for what he was wearing, all that I was able to establish was that he did, in fact, wear clothes. All of this has led me to despair that the powers of observation are on the decline among our generation.

  As I was unable to interview the subject himself, I attempted to interview those who were most closely involved in the events as they transpired. Unfortunately, they lacked the sort of open and forthcoming veracity which I have come to expect and admire among the students at Seelie High School. One can only suppose that this is due, in some part, to the stigma that has attached to their names after their involvement in the incident last month which was the cause of all the uncertainty and confusion that has happened since. I suppose they don’t want to be associated with a second misadventure.

  Ms. Brannon has asked me to work on maintaining a higher level of professional aloofness during my work on the paper and also to improve my vocabulary. I hope that she will be pleased with the outcome of my most recent journalistic endeavors.

  [Interview transcripts]

  Greer: Daphne Reynolds, I understand that you were seen to have spoken with Dylan Blake multiple times yesterday. Is that true?

  Daphne: What do you want, Greer?

  Greer: It’s not what I want, but what the readership of the Druid Chronicles wants. I am here as a servant of the student body!

  Daphne: Then what does the student body want, Greer?

  Greer: To know the truth, of course. What really happened in the courtyard yesterday?

  Daphne: Greer, you know what happened. Everyone knows what happened. The principle even made an announcement about it over the loudspeaker this morning.

  Greer: Yes, but the student body wants details! You were there. Tell me, what was Dylan Blake like? Was there anything about him that struck you as peculiar at the time? Would you say that he was at all suspicious or possibly of suspect character?

  Daphne: Stop talking about him in the past tense. It’s creepy. It’s not like he’s dead.

  Greer: Technically, we don’t know that.

  Daphne: Greer, I have to go to class now. Stop blocking my locker.

  [The recording stops here and restarts.]

  Greer: Aislin Donaghue, might I have a moment of your time?

  Aislin: Um…I guess. Fin and I were just on our way to the library for study hall.

  Greer: Wonderful. I was hoping you could shed some light on what happened during lunch yesterday. I understand that you spoke with Dylan Blake before his unfortunate disappearance?

  Aislin: Yeah, a little bit. He didn’t really disappear, though. I mean, we know where he is.

  Greer: Given your recent history of offering predictions to almost everyone you come in contact with, I wonder if you might have any seen any visions regarding Mr. Blake? Perhaps something that would give us a hint regarding his current whereabouts. Can you, for example, substantiate claims that in crossing to the other side of the door his life was, in fact, terminated?

  Aislin: What?

  Fin: She wants to know if he’s dead.

  Aislin: What? Why would you think that?

  Greer: Well, the last person who tried to go through the door was seriously injured and is still in critical condition at the hospital.

  Aislin: I don’t think Barry is exactly in critical condition. Leena says he’s just sleeping. I’m sure she’ll find a way to wake him up soon.

  Greer: Yes, well…Back to Dylan Blake. What do you think his motives were in going through the door?

  Aislin: Um…I don’t know. I don’t think he really believed that the door led anywhere.

  Greer: I see. And did you or Ms. Reynolds say anything that might have lead him to believe that? Perhaps to encourage him to go through?

  Aislin: What? No we didn’t! Greer, we have to go. We’re going to be late.

  Greer: Ah, I see I hit a little too close to home with that question. Perhaps Mr. Calhoun would care to offer a comment?

  Fin: Greer, go away.

  [Again the tape stops and then restarts.]

  Greer: Thank you so much for agreeing to speak with me Chelsea. I understand that you spoke with Dylan Blake before he passed through the door yesterday?

  Chelsea: Well, he asked me if we always got a lot of homework in Algebra.

  Greer: Did he? How interesting. And how did you respond?

  Chelsea: Uh…I think I said, “I guess.”

  Greer: I see. Did anything about him stick out to you?

  Chelsea: Just that he was new, you know?

  Greer: Did he attempt to engage you in any further conversation?

  Chelsea: No. I left, so he couldn’t really talk to me after that.

  Greer: Why do you suppose he chose to ask you that particular question?

  Chelsea: I don’t know…A lot of guys have been talking to me lately. Ever since that thing at the pool, you know? But I don’t think he could have known about that, so maybe it was just because I sat behind him in class.

  Greer: I see. Can you tell us anything else about him?

  Chelsea: Uh…He was sort of cute.

  Greer: Cute? Not sinister or creepy?

  Chelsea: No, sorry…

  [The recording ends at this point.]

  This Side of the Door – Chelsea Lloyd

  [The following is an entry from the diary of Chelsea Lloyd, a seventeen-year-old senior at Seelie High. It is part of a collection of personal accounts gathered by Greer Douglas regarding the unusual events that took place in and around New Elphame, Michigan in the fall of 2014.]

  September 6, 2014

  There have been all these crazy rumors flying around this week. I know the whole door-in-the-courtyard thing was weird, but I didn’t believe what everyone was saying about people starting to have magical powers and stuff. I thought everybody was just imagining things.

  But I’m starting to think maybe it’s all true because Bobby Hogan has to be some kind of wizard or something.

  A bunch of us went over to the pool this afternoon and Bobby wouldn’t leave me alone. He kept following me around, making dumb jokes and offering to rub sunscreen on my back. Yuck! As if I wanted that cretin’
s hands all over me.

  After a while I got into the lap pool and started swimming laps, hoping he’d take the hint and leave me alone. At first, I thought it had worked. I was just starting to relax and was working on my backstroke when he popped up in the middle of my lane and grabbed me. Of course, I freaked. I screamed and elbowed him in the face. By accident, but he totally deserved it.

  Everyone, including the lifeguard, came running over to make sure we were okay. I was fine. Just really mad. But Bobby’s nose was bleeding. I felt a little bad about that, but not much. The lifeguard, who had seen the whole thing, told Bobby off for messing around and nearly drowning us both and then led him away to get the bleeding stopped.

  As he was walking away, I heard Bobby say, “Man, having your nose broken sure makes you hungry. Wish I had a burger right now. Any chance you’ve got some food over at the medic station?”

  I suddenly decided to go get Bobby a burger. Not because I felt bad for hurting his nose or because I like him or anything. My feet just started heading over to the snack bar before I even had a chance to think about it.

  When I got back with the burger, Bobby’s nose had stopped bleeding. He was lying on a lounge chair in the shade, telling a bunch of his friends about what had happened. A couple of girls were hanging around, gasping and asking him if it hurt. When I showed up, they all glared at me.

  “There’s my cute little nose-breaker!” Bobby said.

  I couldn’t figure out why I had wanted to do something nice for the jerk. But since I had already paid for it, I chucked the burger at him and started to walk away.

  “What no