Tag

A story about a boy and his alien misadventure in lasertag.

He had always been a nervous little boy. It was largely the fault of his mother who would try to scare him any chance she got. As an only child she had no one else to pick on. So terrified was he that he began to suspect everything imaginable of conspiring against him and he would drill himself on what to do in the most outlandish of situations. He wouldn't begin to suspect his mother's mental stability until several years after the incident.

Matt had received an invitation to a birthday party for another boy in his class. He had never attended such a large event before and his apprehension could be cut with a knife. He had heard his teachers and other adults describe him as "quiet" or "that jumpy boy" or on one particularly painful occasion "the weird one in that corner". He didn't say anything because he didn't know who was a real human and who was what his mother called "switchers", aliens who assumed the identity of the people they took over so they could steal even more people. He was jumpy because he couldn't know when one of his mother's tricks or numerous delusions would creep up on him. And he supposed training for the unthinkable on a daily basis might make one a little strange. All of it together made him who he was, a viciously intelligent and resourceful child with more suspicion than a detective and a surprising amount of bravery despite his constant terror. This odd combination probably saved them all.

The invitation had been simple enough. Be here at this time and bring a present for that one kid you don't know well enough to buy presents for. His mother was excited enough for both of them.

"Matthew, " she had said, "don't forget that we're going to be around a lot of people. I'm going to put some mind-reading dampeners in your side pockets. Oh! And an invisible-poison-gas detector and a bag of goldfish, just in case you get hungry. Oh, my baby boy is growing up and going to his own social gatherings! Remember, if you're in a reality bending atmosphere, don't eat the goldfish just in case they become real goldfish. That would make you sick." Her gaze had become distant as if she was remembering something and then seemed to come back to herself rather quickly. "Anyway," she continued, "let's get this show on the road!"

The trip was blessedly short as his mother drove their beat-up old chevy to the location of the party: Blazer Zorg Laser Tag. The gaudy sign in front boasted the largest laser tag arena in central texas.

Matt opened the creaky truck door and jumped down to the concrete taking care not to squish his precious goldfish or the "poison gas detector" which looked suspiciously like his mothers blue book light. He retrieved the present his mother had wrapped with care and the door rattled as he shut it. A moment passed as he took in the large converted movie theatre building and the butterflies that had set up residence in his stomach went into a frenzy. The sooner I get in there, he thought, the sooner we can leave so I can drill in peace. He had a current project involving different knots and he was eager to get back to the monkey fist he left on his nightstand.

The present was bulky and awkward in his hands; a boardgame that required complex pieces and parts packaged in one of those impossible plasic vacuum seals that would have kept the very grail safe and took an act of congress to open. The bright HAPPY BIRTHDAY! paper seemed in stark contrast to Matt's mood and he took great care not to rip it as he shifted the gift from one hand to another. His mother stood beside their truck, still getting her face together. She had waived him on with a cheerful comment that she would be right there, and before he knew it he was in front of the glass double doors with the obligatory "Pull" sign. Steeling himself for the inevitable social contact that would be happening, he gingerly gripped the abused metal handle. A rush of frigid air swept past his face, cooling the sweat that had already made an appearance on his brow in the sweltering Texas heat.

Matt stumbled forward, bright points of arcade lighting the only thing he could see at first as his eyes adjusted to the dim indoors. A squealing raucous set his already taut nerves into a frenzy. His eyes darted from person to game to table and back and he nearly crushed the parcel in his hands when someone tapped him lightly on the shoulder.