DITD Chapter 8
Drawn in the Dark
Pizza Palace was crowded, just like it was every Sunday. Coming here meant no cooking or dishes to do at home. The buffet was laid out and ready to go. It’s why most hungry churchgoers rushed over after the final prayer for the best seats. We had learned not to rush too quickly, though. If you got here at the right time, they’d be putting out fresh pizza. It gave time for us to eat hot food and let the first wave of kids clear out of the arcade.
Attie and I piled our trays up high. Mine was filled with pepperoni pizza and cheesy bread. Hers beside me held cheese, pineapple, and macaroni pizza slices. She didn’t stop there. She line jumped to get over to the pasta for her usual bowl of elbow noodles and marinara with extra cheese to top it all off. I blinked a few times.
She’s not going to finish all of that.
I turned back to grab my tray. I waded through the crowd of people towards our long table, filled with our church family. Spotting an empty seat next to Miles, I sat down before Attie could claim it for her own. She loved to question new people about their life story, so I decided to spare Miles that interrogation.
We ate as we listened to the adults talk about the sermon from this morning. Their attention was mostly focused on Geraldine talking about her experiences. They were ecstatic to hear that she and Miles had moved here permanently and hoped to continue attending services with us. The music playing overhead seemed to drown out her voice when she turned to someone on the other side of her.
Miles took his time eating his food. He seemed more interested in the yellow and red walls of the room than in the people around him. One slice of pizza lay halfway eaten on his plate.
“You’re not hungry?” I asked.
Miles peeled his eyes away from the wall to look at me. “Not really.”
I nodded my head, then said, “When you’re done, we can go to the arcade. My mom bought extra tokens today.”
He took a couple of more bites, then replied, “I’m done.”
Standing up, I looked over at my mom and gave her a small wave.
“Make sure to share your tokens. And don’t leave the building. Stay in the arcade or come back to the table,” she said.
I smiled, then we made our way into the brightly lit game room. It was overwhelming with bright colors, lights, and sounds from the machine. The music playing overhead tried to compete with the machines to see who could be louder. Kids ran by begging the others for more tokens.
One kid yelled, “I just need one more to play the game! Please!”
A toddler waddled by with a ball from the basketball-toss game. His dad smiled and followed him around, guiding him back gently towards the machine.
“What do you want to play first?” Miles asked.
“Um...” I looked around at the options before us and spotted an empty machine, “How about Galaga? There’s no one at that one.”
Miles shrugged. We pushed our way through to the machine. I reached into my pocket to give Miles a token, but he’d already pulled out his own. Within a moment of inserting the coin, the machine came to life, ready to defend itself.
“Have you played before?” I asked Miles.
“A little bit. I’ve never been very good at it,” he replied.
“My mom taught me how to play when I was younger.”
“So you’re pretty good at it then?”
I laughed. “Not at all. I can hold down the fort for a little while, but that’s about it.”
Miles smiled. “My dad used to say that.”
“Used to?” I asked.
His smile wavered, “Yeah. He, um, isn’t here anymore. Neither is my mom.”
I frowned. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
The sound from the game rang in our ears as it announced Miles’ defeat.
“Your turn,” he said.
I moved in front of the screen and inserted a coin. Grabbing the controls, I pressed the start button. Soon enough, my spaceship was under attack.
“What do you typically do around here?” Miles asked.
I ducked slightly as the aliens shot back at me, then I replied, “Well, there’s a summer festival in a couple of months. Every now and then, there’s a parade. We have a trail and a pump track, but there’s really not much beyond that. You’re better off trying to find things to do at school to keep you busy.”
Miles looked thoughtful for a moment. “Do you know if there are any clubs at the schools?”
“It depends on which school you’re going to and what you’re interested in.”
“Any writing clubs?” he asked.
My lips tightened together as I thought to myself while trying to dodge another alien attack, “Um, not that I know of. I like to draw more, so I’ve never looked into anything for writing.”
“You draw?” he asked.
“A little. Mainly just monsters and things like that. I’m not so good with people,” I replied.
I heard a piece of paper rustling as he pulled it out of his pocket. He unfolded it and laid it in front of me.
“Hey! I almost beat this level!” I exclaimed.
Not being able to see the screen anymore for the paper blocking it, the machine announced my defeat for all to hear.
I was doing so well...
I sighed and took the paper.
“I’m sorry,” Miles said, “I got excited for a moment and didn’t think.”
“It’s fine,” I replied, reading the words in front of me.
On the paper was a hand-drawn comic strip. It described a monster in a school that was waiting around the corner for a boy. The boy had no idea the monster lurked nearby, waiting for him to turn around. The monster fed off fear, ready to take the boy away.
“What is this?” I asked.
“It’s a graphic novel I’m writing,” he replied, “It’s a story about a boy who is being attacked by monsters.”
I mumbled in acknowledgment and continued reading to finish the page. The lines were spaced out enough that the letters weren’t jumping around as much as normal. It still took me a moment to read everything.
“This is cool,” I said.
He nodded urgently, “You think so?”
“Yeah. I’d read it.”
Miles smiled wider than I knew he was capable of in the short time I’d met him. “So you’ll help me then?”
I narrowed my eyes. “What do you mean? I’m not a writer.”
“I don’t need a writer, I need an artist,” he said.
“I’m not that good of an artist.”
“But you’re good at drawing monsters, right? You do it a lot?”
I thought back to the recent sketches of my nightmares. “I mean, I guess so...”
“You’ve got to help me then,” he said.
Sighing, I sat for a moment.
I’m trying to fight my own monsters here... He looks so excited, though.
“Ok. Give me a description of your monster. I will try to draw it out,” I said.
“Yes!” he exclaimed, “This is going to be the best novel ever. There will be monsters and fighting, and he’s going to win in the end!”
I smiled. “Ok then. Let’s go back to the table and work this out. Do you have any paper?”
“No,” he frowned, “but maybe I can come over, and we can work on it together?”
“Let’s go ask my mom,” I said as we walked out of the arcade.