[Summer Contest Entry 2015] Skyhigh

It was the fifth day of summer and a scorching ninety degrees, which meant it was a balmy eighty on ground level. Jordan glanced up at one of the many bridges that connected the towering buildings that crowded in all around him and then back at the box that had landed before him.

It was too big to hold in one hand, though he bet an adult could have done it. He expected the box to be damaged or at least scratched, but when he ran his hand over the metallic surface, it was smooth as butter.

“No way,” he whispered.

If memory served, the buildings in that section of the ward capped out at about only a hundred. But still. A hundred stories! Jordan didn’t have the slightest idea what it was made out of, but if it had survived the fall, then it had to be worth something.

Jordan checked his surroundings, but no one else in the South Gate Park seemed to have noticed. He took off at a brisk pace, trying to keep himself from running so as not to draw attention to himself or his catch.

Jordan left the park and followed the street, the box nestled in the crook of his arm, glowing light-blue from the UV streetlights. He turned off into the alley that led back to his apartment. He was still ten minutes away when a familiar voice called out.

Jordan stopped dead and turned.

It was Beck, a kid from Jordan’s class. Jordan wasn’t exactly friends with him . . . well, he wasn’t really friends with anyone, but that was beside the point. Beck sat two desks to the right and one up from Jordan, and he was always irritated at one thing or another. He didn’t have many friends either, but Jordan figured that was because most of the other kids were afraid of him, and if Jordan was being entirely honest, he was too.

“I said what you got there?” Beck asked. He was smiling now, but it did nothing to put Jordan at ease.

“Nothing!” Jordan said, much louder than he had intended.

Beck slipped out from the doorway he’d been hiding in. “That’s a whole lot of nothing.”

Jordan backed into the wall. “It’s . . . I found it,” he finished lamely.

“Let me see it. There ain’t no harm in letting me take a look, is there?”

Jordan imagined himself taking the box and smacking Beck over the head with it. Instead, he handed it over. Despite not being any older, Beck managed to heft it in one hand though it was a tight fit.

“You know, I think I know what this is. I saw one on an episode of a show my mom watches. It’s--”

“Mine.”

Beck whipped around.

Jordan had been so focused on Beck he hadn’t noticed the guy approach them. A wicked scar curved down his cheek.

“Hand it over, boy.” His put his hand in his pocket almost casually.

To Beck’s credit, he met the guy’s gaze. “That’s funny, mister. I thought it was finder’s keepers.”

“Beck,” Jordan said. It sounded weird to call his name out.

“You have to the count of three,” the guy said. “One. Two.”

“Beck . . .”

“Three!” Beck shouted.

He spun and grabbed Jordan by the arm who nearly tripped over his own feet as he was dragged along.

“What are you doing?!” Jordan panted. “Just hand him that thing!”

Beck let go of Jordan and patted him on the back. Jordan looked behind them as they ran down the dim alley. Their pursuer wasn’t far behind. What’s more, he had removed his hand from his pocket. Jordan didn’t need to be an export to recognize the bright light that emanated from it. He’d seen it in movies dozens if not hundreds of times.

The gun whined, taking a chunk out of the concrete wall where Jordan had been less than a second go.

“You still wanna give it back?” Beck asked. A small gap had widened between him and Jordan.

“Yes, even more so than before!” The words came out in a jumbled rush.

They turned left. Jordan thought he heard another shot fly, but he didn’t dare look. They took another turn and skid to a halt. Dead end. Jordan wiped sweat from his forehead. He wanted nothing more than to catch his breath, but that wasn’t an option. They turned around. It was too late. Their pursuer blocked the only exit, gun lit up and ready to fire.

“That’s as far as you go,” he barked. “Don’t make me do something I’ll regret.”

Jordan glanced at Beck, waiting to take his lead. It was the first time Jordan noticed the other boy was just as terrified as he was. His eyes were wide and focused on the gun.

Their pursuer advanced, the light of the gun chasing away the dark of the alley.

I’m going to die here. I’ll never see Mom and Dad again.

Jordan squeezed his eyes shut, the sound of boots crunching on dirt and trash growing ever closer. He waited for the inevitable, but it never came.

“Freeze!”

It was followed by the meaty thunk of a punch, a few curses that made Jordan cringe, and the shing of metal sliding into place. Jordan opened his eyes. Flashlights had replaced the light of the gun. The gunman was being hauled off the ground, hands cuffed behind his back. Jordan let out a breath he didn’t know he’d even been holding.

As an officer took the guy away, another approached Jordan and Beck followed by a man in the nicest looking suit Jordan had ever seen.

Jordan looked over at Beck again. All trace of fear had vanished. In its place was the smile he had greeted him with.

“Heck of a thing you did there, kids,” the officer said.

“My profound thanks,” the suit said.

What the hell is going on?

“I owe you two a debt I can never repay for keeping my property out of the hands of that criminal,” the suit said. He extended his hand.

Beck handed it over this time, though not without pausing as if to consider his options.

The suit held the box up. He tapped it in multiple locations in quick succession. Jordan heard a rush of air as something gave way. A small drawer slid out. A green, pulsing light emanated from within. The suit peered inside. He pushed the drawer closed, apparently satisfied. He tucked the box under his arm and bent over until he was at eye level with Jordan and Beck.

“You kids did a very brave thing today, but I’m afraid this is all I can offer you.”

He deposited a piece of candy in each of their hands.

“Um, you shouldn’t have?” Beck said.

The suit was already leaving the dank alley. “I want you to have it,” he called back.

The officer shook his head. “Let’s get you boys checked out. Then we’ll see about getting you home, okay?”

It was all Jordan could do to nod.



It was the sixth day of summer and a scorching ninety degrees, which meant it was a balmy eighty on ground level, though it was a little hotter than that in Jordan’s crowded apartment, which had a broken air conditioner.

Jordan rolled the candy between his fingers. If it was all he had to remember his adventure by, it seemed ill-fitting to eat it. He shoved it into his pocket and headed for the door. His mom made a fuss about him going out after what happened, but his dad came to the rescue. After a heated argument, his mom relented and let him pass.

Jordan was headed down the alley to South Gate Park when Beck called out to him. Their meeting went almost exactly as it had the day before.

“Um, hey,” Jordan said. “I didn’t expect to see you again.” He really hadn’t. He assumed Beck had bigger fish to fry.

Beck stepped out of the doorway. “You kiddin’? I had a lot of fun yesterday. Besides, you probably noticed, but . . . I don’t exactly have that many friends. I was thinking maybe we could hang out now and then?”

Jordan smiled like a fool. “O-of course! Did you have any plans for today?”

Beck raised his index finger. “You still got your candy?”

“Yeah. Why?”

Beck withdrew the wrapper from his own candy from his pocket. He gave it to Jordan who smoothed it out. On the inside was a phone number.