1st 5 Pages October Workshop - Bryan

Name: Patrick Bryan
Genre: Middle Grade
Title: The Brothers Kincaid and the Quantum Crystal




“Do you see a ghost out there?” asked Hank, Nathan’s younger brother. Nathan didn’t turn to look at him, he continued to lock his gaze somewhere toward the middle of the field.

“There are people. At least I think they’re people,” Nathan replied.

“Nate?” Hank’s voice trailed off to a whisper. “When you look out there, do you ever see mom?” Nathan dropped his head before he spoke. He tried not to snap at Hank as he pictured tears welling up in his little brother’s eyes.

“I told you Hank, they're not ghosts.”

Nathan lifted his head, his body rigid and his stare fixed. He stood at the edge of the dirt lot that was the Kincaid family backyard. Weeds of varying heights spotted the landscape. But Nathan wasn’t here to look at the weeds, he was staring far out into the treeless landscape that was once farmland where there was nothing to see. No houses, no trees, no hills, no features at all save one. The land was so flat that five miles in the distance you could just see the outline of a decrepit barn on the horizon. There was nothing else to interrupt the barren view for five full miles. Yet here Nathan stood, spellbound, staring into empty space.

“So the people, what are they doing?  Do you think they can see you? Tell me everything, I’m ready to start sketching,” said Hank.

Nathan let out a deep breath and ran his fingers through his wild brown hair.  He remained transfixed on the specters in front of him. About twenty feet from where he stood was a sphere of blue light cutting through his field of vision. It hovered just above the ground; a hole about as large as a movie screen. The edges were so bright that he couldn’t look directly at them, but in the center of the hole in space were people.  They appeared human at first, or at least similar in form.  Their long robes obscured most of their features. Yet as they moved, flashes of a leg or arm became visible. Nathan recoiled at first, unprepared to see the bare scaly legs that bent in the wrong direction. And then a full arm became visible, an arm covered in short colorful feathers. They weren’t people at all, but some humanoid bird-like creatures. Oddly enough they wore straw hats as wide as umbrellas that screened their heads and faces.

“You better get out some colorful pens Hank. These guys are like human sized birds, wearing colorful cloaks. They’re gardening I think,” said Nathan.  “They have cutting tools and are shaping these tall bushes, like sculptures.  The shapes are amazing.”

“What kind of shapes? What are they for? Do any look like animals? I want them to make one that looks like a whale.” Hank screwed up his face for a moment in thought and continued. “But not the ones with teeth, they seem mean. The ones with those big filters for catching shrimp.”

“You mean the baleen whales?” asked Nathan.

“Yeah, baleen. What a weird word. Are they making baleen whale shapes?”

“No. The sculptures curve and spiral, they point in weird directions. You know what they remind me of? Bowers. Do you remember that nature show we watched with the birds building intricate little houses to attract mates? They decorated them with colored flower petals, shells and trash. That’s what these guys could be. But sort of strange human-like alien bird men instead of actual birds.”

“Cool,” said Hank as he scribbled feverishly in his vision journal. Whenever Nathan would let him in on what he saw during a vision, Hank would turn it into art and record every detail Nathan would narrate.

"You have to tell me more about the Bowerbird-men. All the particulars,” said Hank. He liked saying particulars and mimicked a British accent whenever he spoke the word.  Nathan fixated on the image that only he could see. His eyes darted around, tracking the activity. Hank watched Nathan and glanced to the empty field between scribbles, hoping for something interesting to appear.

“Whoa. There’s something new. Animals,” said Nathan.

“Animal sculptures?” asked Hank.

“No, these are actual animals. Their bodies are like tigers but they have pointed tails, pointed like spears. And they’re massive. Bigger than the bowerbird-men. I’m not sure if they’re pets or guards. They seem different than the Bowers, darker, threatening.”

“I wish I could see them too,” said Hank.  Nathan’s face contorted.  His expression soured and he shut his eyes.  He slouched forward and shook his head from side to side.

“No you don’t Hank. What I see isn’t always something good. And you know you’re the only one who believes me, or at least doesn’t make fun of me.”

“It’s ok Nate, I know you see the ghosts.”

“I keep telling you Hank, they’re not ghosts,” said Nathan with a rising voice.

“Then what are they?” asked Hank.

Nathan shrugged. “They seem like people. Though not from here, from somewhere far away, like these bird guys. I usually don’t tell you about the awful ones, but I see them too. Sometimes it’s not people, it’s just weird places, empty rooms, buildings, hallways. The worst part is I can’t control it. I can’t choose what I see, where I see it, or when it happens. It just starts happening, good or bad, it happens and I can’t do anything about it. I’m a freak. I start forgetting what’s real and what’s part of the vision.  Some people even think I’m faking just to get attention. Why would I want people to think I’m insane? Ingis fatuus is what I heard one doctor say.”

“Dr. Iggy said what?” asked Hank.

“No, Ignus fatuus. It’s Latin, for foolish fire. It’s a delusion like a will o’ the wisp or a ghost light. But it’s not swamp gas, and I don’t think I’m crazy. At least not most of the time.”

Nathan turned to Hank.  His expression was serious. While he appeared to be an average if slightly undernourished twelve-year-old boy, when you looked directly into his eyes there was a depth; a light in his eyes that cast a hypnotic effect.  Not an actual light mind you, but an intensity that was overwhelming to most and a bit sorrowful.  There was something much more complex in him than anyone would expect to see in a young boy and it tended to make most people in Townsvilleburg feel uneasy.

Nathan sat down in the dirt with his legs crossed. He put his head in his hands and sat there quietly.  Hank scooted next to him, placed his sketch pad on the ground and put a hand on Nathan’s knee.

“I’m sorry I don’t understand. You just tell me how to draw these weird creatures and spooky landscapes, but you never say what you think.” Hank stared at Nathan, who was still focusing his attention somewhere in front of them. “So if it’s all so horrible to you, why are you out here looking into the field?” asked Hank.  Nathan sat there quietly for a while before responding.  He turned to Hank and stared at his wide-eyed expression.

“It’s so boring here that I want to see somewhere else. I want to be somewhere else so bad that I don’t care what I see, as long as it’s not here, not Townsvilleburg.  Even the awful stuff is at least interesting.”