Down the Shrinking Hole by Jamie Ott
There was a bunch of tiny lines that he couldn’t read.
He crumpled it up and threw it in the waste basket.
He heard the front door of the house open and close.
Miles quickly pulled back the covers and climbed into the bed.
“Miles,” he heard his mother’s voice. She opened the door, “What are you doing?”
“I’m not feeling well.”
“What do you mean? You were fine, a few minutes ago?”
“I don’t know; I just don’t feel well.”
“Fine, don’t leave your room.”
As soon as he heard the front door open and close again, he turned on Hostile World.
He was just about to shoot down the intruder trying to break into his house safe when a cool air rushed around the room.
The intruder punched him in the face, getting 20 points and earning a code.
When the box opened, he took $20 and a gun, and wrote on the wall, “See ya, sucker!”
The sound of air whooshed around the room again. He went to his closet and put on a sweater.
As he turned back to his television, he noticed a dark space under his bed.
He stared at it a moment, thinking it was just a shadow. But he couldn’t make sense of where the shadow came from.
Miles got down on his knees and crawled under the bed.
He gasped.
The darkness was not a shadow at all, but a hole the size of large pizza.
Miles leaned in for a closer look. The air blew up into his face.
It was too dark for him to see the depth of the hole. The sides of it were black and grainy, almost like asphalt.
The front door of the house opened and closed again.
His mother would never believe he had nothing to do with disfiguring the floor.
Miles jumped up, grabbed his suitcase from the closet, and slid it over the hole.
“Miles, come out here,” called his mother from the living room. “We need to talk about your behavior, today.”
Light at the End of the Tunnel
Chapter 4
His mother was disappointed in him for being such a poor guest. Miles tried to explain about the green glass and how it shot static electricity. He tried to tell her about how he enjoyed shocking him with it; how he wouldn’t stop.
She didn’t believe him.
“You’re gonna spend the rest of the night in your room as punishment for being rude to the neighbors. Now, go.”
Miles brushed his teeth and changed into his pajamas.
All he wanted was to look at the hole under his bed, but his mother always liked to check on him before going to bed, herself.
So he climbed into bed and waited.
After his mother came in and kissed him goodnight, he got up and switched the light back on.
He pulled the suitcase out, from under the bed.
Miles couldn’t believe his eyes: The hole under his bed was gone.
“Where did it go?” he asked out loud.
Thinking he was cracking up, he pushed the suitcase back under the bed and crawled back under the covers.
“Maybe I am crazy.”
He was down a few hours when a tapping noise woke him.
The tapping turned into a banging, and got louder. Thinking it must have been his parents’, he wrote it off and turned onto his other side.
Just as he was about to doze off again, the middle of his bed slammed up into his side. The legs of the frame lifted from the floor, for a moment, and then slammed back to the ground.
Miles jumped out of bed and turned on the light.
He pulled the suitcase from under the bed.
The hole was back.
He crawled under the bed and peered into the blackness. There was a light way down at the bottom.
He heard movement in the tunnel. He reached his hand in to feel the wall, but he touched something clammy. Gently, he patted the clammy item, and attempted to grab it so he could pull it out.
“Ow!” he cried.
He pulled back his hand.
From two little puncture marks on his finger, blood welled up copiously.
He turned his eyes back to the hole and saw two pairs of large red eyes. One of the pairs of eyes bared fangs and hissed.
Miles jumped up and backed against the wall.
He stood there, waiting for the things to make their ascent out of the hole, but they never did. Instead, little round footprints made their impressions across the carpet.
His bedroom door opened and closed.
He opened the door, meaning to follow the prints, but he didn’t see where they went.
Miles walked, quietly, down the hall.
Just as he entered the living room, he saw the little footprints at the front door. It appeared to open and close, and then magically lock its self.
He went to the curtains and looked out, but, again, saw nothing.
“Miles,” said his father, who was behind him with a glass of water in his hand. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“Go back to bed.”
He ran back to his room, and crawled under the bed.
The hole was gone.
Pricked Heels
Chapter 5
The rest of the week was more of the same thing. Miles would wander about, trying to keep busy, and his mother was always telling him to go out and play.
He wanted to go out, but the neighbors seemed to be paying considerably more attention to him than usual.
Now, he only felt safe when inside the house.
Every day, he’d watch for the hole under his bed, but it hadn’t appeared since that night. Although he couldn’t be completely certain of this; for all he knew, the hole opened while he was sleeping. He’d tried to stay awake, several times, but it was impossible.
Across the cul de sac, Seven continued to spend hours in the lawn chair, staring at the same invisible point in the air.
“You know,” his mother conceded one day as she looked through the window, “You may be right about Seven. He’s a strange a kid.”
That Saturday, his father told Miles to get dressed because they were going to Pizza and Stuff.
He loved that place!
Miles ran to his room to change, but he didn’t have any clean clothes.
“Son,” said his father, who saw him digging around in his hamper, “Later, you’re gonna learn how to start doing your own laundry.”
Miles grabbed a pair of jeans from the bottom of the basket, along with a shirt.
Twenty minutes later, they were in the car.
From across the street, Seven and his mother were walking toward them.
“Oh, no! You never said they were coming!”
“It was Janet’s idea. Apparently, Seven needs to make friends. I thought it was a great suggestion,” said his father.
“I don’t want to be friends with him, Dad. He’s mean to me.”
He turned in his seat.
“Fine, you don’t have to play with him, but you have to be polite.”
The door opened and Seven scooted in, followed by his mother and father.
Miles’ and Seven’s parents talked all the way to Pizza and Stuff.
Inside, the place was pretty busy. Many kids were either playing games or eating lunch with their parents.
They found a table and sat.
When the waiter came, they ordered a couple pizzas and a round of sodas.
Their parents continued to talk and laugh while Miles and Seven said nothing to each other. Every so often, he’d look at Seven, sitting stiffly while not blinking.
A few minutes later, Seven’s mother said, “I’m gonna go wash up real quick.”
Miles watched her go to the back, but she didn’t go to the bathroom. Instead, she went right and down a hall.
A minute later, she reappeared, looking rosy cheeked, and licking her lips.
Almost immediately, her husband, Bob, excu
After they had pizza, his mother gave Miles ten dollars to play games.
Seven followed him, closely.
“Why are you following me? Go away.”
Seven didn’t seem to care that Miles didn’t want him around. He said nothing, and followed him anyway.
The first few games, he said nothing. He stood dead still, watching.
When he approached the slot machine filled with gold coins, he put in a dollar and used the claw to shove as much of it as he could into the center pan.
“What a dumb game,” he suddenly said.
Miles ignored him.
Suddenly, a mass amount of coins started moving forward into the center pan. Shocked, Miles stood back and watched as the tickets spewed forth from the machine.
When all the coins were in the center, cutting his game short, he asked, “Did you do that?”
Miles didn’t know if he was more shocked or angry, at what he’d seen.
Seven merely looked at Miles while saying nothing.
“Don’t mess with my game!” he said angrily.
Under the light, his blues showed the red gleam again.
“What are you, anyway? My parents won’t believe it, but I know you’re not human. What are you, a troll or something?”
Briefly, Seven’s eyelids squinted, and his lips pursed, tightly.
Miles collected his tickets, and moved on; Seven followed.
He made his way over to the basketball game, which he happened to be good at.
After he’d made twelve good shots, Seven pushed him aside. Miles fell to the floor.
“Hey,” Miles shouted. “Wait until your turn!”
But Seven ignored him, as he threw ball after ball, and missed; the more he missed, the angrier her got.
Miles stood up and laughed.
He went over to the boxing simulator game.
Miles stepped up onto the pad and took the guard position when he saw Seven disappear down the same way as his parents did before.
Quickly, Miles stepped off the game pad and ran to the back of the room.
To the right was a short dark hall. At the end was a door. Miles walked down and pushed it in, slightly.
Seven stood at a counter.
A guy held a plastic cup under the spout of a large white igloo.
When he pressed the lever, a sparkling gold liquid poured, thickly, down into the cup.
Seven accepted the cup and appeared to relish it, as he drank it down.
Not wanting to be caught spying, Miles returned to the game room where he went back to his boxing game.
Right as he mimicked a jab, hook, upper cut, Seven approached, looking rosy in the cheeks, like his parents.
“Let me try,” he said.
“No, wait your turn, idiot.”
Seven pushed him, hard.
Miles fell off the pad, onto the floor, hurting his side and smashing his ankle.
Miles tempered flared. He imagined Seven flying across the room, and smashing into the wall.
Then, as if someone were listening to his thoughts, Seven rose a foot off the floor, and sped, fast, across the room. He slammed into the painting on the wall, and crumpled to the floor.
Seven’s parents ran to him.
Miles’ father picked him up off the floor and dragged him outside.
“What happened?” asked his dad.
“Nothing.”
Seven and his parents came outside.
His parents pretended to be mad, but Seven looked as though he couldn’t have cared less. He returned to his usual unblinking manner.
“Bull,” said his father. “I saw you guys pushing each other, earlier.”
“This is hardly fair. Why isn’t Seven in trouble, too?”
“Because he’s hurt,” said his mother.
“I’m hurt. He pushed me off the boxing pad. Now my ankle is twisted. I told you before; he likes to hurt me, so I hurt him back this time.”
“Ah!” Seven’s mother exclaimed.
“You’re in big trouble. Lets go!” shouted his father.
His dad reached for Miles shoulder, but he stepped back, out of his reach.
Miles turned and ran, limping; his father followed.
He ran so much that he didn’t even know where he was when he stopped.
When he looked back and didn’t see his father, he walked aimlessly.
Anger seethed out of his pores.
It just seemed like, no matter what, his parents wouldn’t listen to him. They didn’t care about him, only their selves.
He happened upon a small grassy park, where he sat on a bench and thought more about what happened.
Miles just couldn’t believe that his parents took Seven’s side over his. He didn’t understand why they’d force him on someone whom he clearly feared. Maybe they didn’t really love him, he wondered.
That wasn’t even the main problem, he told himself. What happened in the pizza place? How did he send Seven so far across the room like that?
He exhaled loudly.
He considered all the strange things that’d been happening: Seven, the creepy neighbors, and now he’d somehow hurt someone without even touching him.
And what about the hole underneath his bed? What were those invisible things that came out of it?
How were all these strange things connected?
He remembered back to when he’d stuck his hand in the tunnel. The thing bit him, and he saw two pairs of eyes.
Maybe they had control over their appearance, Miles considered.
He moved his leg and something hard, in his pant pocket, hit the bench.
He reached in and pulled out the red ball. Miles had completely forgotten about it.
Under the surface, something moved, but he still couldn’t see what it was.
“I’m never going home again,” Miles said to himself.
Suddenly, he heard many barking squirrels around him. He turned his head about, looking for the source.
He didn’t see anything, which made him nervous. Normally, squirrels weren’t so vocal when people came around.
The same thing happened at Seven’s house, he reminded himself.
The noise from the squirrels got louder. He stood up and walked closer to the trees at the edge of grass, and looked up.
Like before, he saw nothing.
The branches trembled, violently. Air rushed past him as something whizzed past his face. Next moment, there was a stabbing pain in his ankle.
“Ow!” he yelled.
He lifted his pant leg and saw two puncture wounds.
The barking got even louder and became multitudinous.
Frightened, he ran down the street, until he found himself facing a mall he’d never been to before.
He went inside and sat on a bench.
When his heart calmed, he thought about the shaking trees and barking squirrels. Something was hiding in them, yet he couldn’t see what they were. Same thing at the Thai restaurant and same thing in front of Seven’s house.
Miles wondered if, perhaps, the things that made the noises and disturbed the trees were the same things that came out of the hole underneath his bed.
“It would certainly make sense,” he said aloud to himself.
After a while, Miles got bored. He went to the bookstore and bought the next book in his favorite series, Monster Lives.
Miles stayed in the coolness of the mall, reading until twilight approached.
When the announcement that the mall was about to close came over the intercom, he walked across the street to the parking lot.
He walked up the dimly lit stairwell.
On every floor was a bench that sat next to the elevator. Miles sat on the one at the very top of the floors, enjoying the cool night air.
Little Devils
Chapter 6
Miles barely noticed when he fell asleep.
When he opened his eyes, it was pitch black outside, except for the
He felt something moving across his belly, but he saw nothing.
He stood up, and something smacked to the concrete floor.
Then it felt like many little hands were grabbing his pants. Whatever they were, they were crawling up his leg, and they pricked his skin, as they pulled themselves up.
Shrieking, he swiped his hands across his jeans, and felt something clammy and smooth break away.
He took a second swipe at his left leg, and then at his calves. Then he kicked at the air, and felt his foot connect with the invisible things, sending them back.
A pipe that stuck out of the wall made a low ding noise, as one of them flew into it.
Chuck, chuck, chuck, chuck, he heard.
Miles ran down the stairs.
Something was hanging on the belt loop of his jeans. He pounded his fist onto his pocket, but the thing managed to get inside.
Miles grabbed the invisible thing and pulled it off. He was about to toss it away when he saw the red ball suspended in air.
The thing cried out, as he wrestled it away.
He dropped the invisible thing and kept running.
A dozen blocks later, he stopped and sat at a bus stop. From his pocket, he pulled the marble out and looked at it.
Why would those things want it? He asked himself. What was so special about it?
“Well, they’re not gonna get it,” he decided.
He lay back on the bench and stared at the stars until the sun started to rise.
Momentarily, he dozed off, and woke to the sound of steps on the concrete.
He looked up and saw a cop walking toward him.
Miles was about to run, when the cop shouted, “Stop, right there, son!”
Grounded
Chapter 7
Naturally, his parents banned him from doing anything but reading books. They removed his television, and wouldn’t even allow him out of his room for meals.
His mother walked in and put a tray of cereal and juice on his bed, and then walked out without saying a word.
Miles walked to the window and looked out. As usual, Seven sat on the porch, looking like a dummy.
As soon as his mother shut the door, he grabbed his pellet gun and loaded it with BBs. Then he got out the little leather pouch he’d gotten from the renaissance fair, months ago.
He put the red ball in the pouch and hung it around his neck. Then he removed the suitcase from under the bed, and kept a watchful eye on the floor as he ate breakfast.
Occasionally, he stood and walked around the room because sitting on the floor made his butt numb.
When he’d done reading the book he’d purchased at the mall, he went over to his book case and put it next to the others.
As he was about to pull a comic that he’d read many times already, he noticed a little book he’d never seen before; it was no bigger than his palm, and the writing was very small.