Page 59 (2/2)

The gleaot an even better look—there was no doubt about it I was looking at a Glaive, right down to the distinctive claw-like grooves along its fuselage and the twin plass

There was only one logical explanation for what I was seeing I had to be hallucinating And I knehat sort of people suffered fros or alcohol People ere cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs, that’s who Cats with a serious marble deficiency

I’d long wondered if my father had been one such person, because of what I’d read in one of his old journals The things I’d seen there had given me the impression that he’d become somewhat delusional near the end of his life That he ames and reality—the very sa myself Maybe it was just as I had always secretly feared: The apple had fallen right next to the Crazy Tree

Had I been drugged? No, i was a raw strawberry Pop-Tart I’d wolfed down incrazier than hallucinating a fictional videogame spaceship would be to blame it on a frosted breakfast pastry Especially if I knew my own DNA was a far more likely culprit

This was my own fault, I realized I could’ve taken precautions But instead, I’d done the opposite Likeon uncut escapis fantasy to beco the price foroff the rails on a crazy train You could practically hear Ozzy screa “All aboard!”

Don’t do this, I pleaded with ot two htether!

Outside the , the Glaive Fighter streaked laterally again As it zoomed over a cluster of tall trees, I saw their branches rustle in its wake Then it zipped through another cloud bank, h its center, dragging several long wisps of cloud vapor along with it as it tore out the other side

A second later, the craft froze in ht upward in a silver blur, vanishing froht as quickly as it had appeared

I just sat there for a moment, unable to do more than stare at the elanced around at the other students seated nearby No one else was looking in the direction of the s If that Glaive Fighter had really been out there, no one else had seen it

I turned back and scanned the ee silver craft to reappear But it was long gone, and now here I was, forced to deal with the aftermath

Seeing that Glaive Fighter, or iered a s into a crushing avalanche of conflicting emented memories—all of the his things

Actually, I wasn’t even sure it had been a journal I’d never finished reading it I’d been too disturbed by its contents, and what they’d seemed to imply about the author’s mental state So I’d put the old notebook back where I found it and tried to forget that it even existed—and until a few seconds ago, I had succeeded

But now I couldn’t see else

I felt a sudden compulsion to run out of the school, drive ho My house was only a few minutes away

I glanced over at the exit, and the rated Mathematics II teacher He had a silver buzz cut, thick horn-rilasses, and wore the same monochromatic outfit he always did: black loafers, black slacks, a white short-sleeve dress shirt, and a black clip-on necktie He’d been teaching at this high school for over forty-five years now, and the old yearbook photos in the library were proof that he’d been rocking this sa this year, which was a good thing, because he appeared to have run out of shits to give sometime in the previous century Today, he’d spent the first five iven us the rest of the period to work on it, while he shut off his hearing aid and did his crosswords But he would still spot me if I tried to sneak out

My eyes reen brick wall above the obsolete chalkboard With its usual lack of pity, it infor until the bell

There was no way I could take thirty-two more minutes of this After what I’d just seen, I’d be lucky if I ether for another thirty-two seconds