Five Nights at Freddy's: The Silver Eyes(20)

“It’s hidden,” John explained. “They were supposed to knock it down to build a mall, but they didn’t. They just… built around it.”

“Entombed it.” John corrected.

“And you got in?” Lamar said. Charlie nodded confirmation. “No way,” he said.

“What was it like?” Marla asked.

“Exactly the same,” John said. “It was like…”

“It was like everyone vanished,” Charlie said softly.

“I want to go too; you have to take us,” Marla said. Jessica cleared her throat hesitantly, and they all looked at her.

“I don’t know,” she said slowly. “I mean, today? Should we?”

“We have to see it,” Lamar said. “You can’t tell us this and not let us see it.”

“I want to see it,” Jason chimed in. “What’s Freddy’s?” They ignored him. His eyes were wide and he was hanging on to every word.

“Maybe Jessica’s right,” John said with reluctance. “Maybe it’s disrespectful to go tonight.” There was a moment’s pause, and Charlie knew they were waiting for her to talk. She was the one they were really afraid of offending; they needed her permission.

“I think we should go,” she said. “I don’t think it’s disrespectful. It’s almost a way of honoring... what happened.” She looked around the table. Jessica was nodding. Charlie wasn’t sure it was much of an argument, but they didn’t need to be convinced. They wanted an excuse.

Marla twisted herself to look back at Jason’s plate.

“Are you done eating?” She said.

“Yup,” he said. Marla pointed to the game in his hand.

“You know you can’t play with that during the ceremony,” she said.

“Yup.”

“I’m serious, Jason, I’m locking it in the car.”

“Why don’t you just lock me in the car,” he muttered.

“I’d love to,” Marla said under her breath as she turned back to the group. “Okay, we can go.”

They headed to the school in a caravan; the boys in Carlton’s car, Marla following, and Charlie bringing up the rear.

“We should have carpooled,” Jessica said idly, staring out the window. It hadn’t occurred to Charlie.

“I guess,” she said.

“On the other hand, I’m not sure I want to ride with Marla and Jason.” Jessica said plainly.

“They are kind of intense,” Charlie agreed.

When they arrived, the parking lot was already jammed full. Charlie parked on a side street, in what she hoped was a legal spot, and they walked to the school along the familiar sidewalk. Jessica shivered.

“I’ve got goosebumps.”

“It is weird to be here,” Charlie said. The school looked unchanged from the outside, but the fence was new, slick, black-plastic coated chain link. The whole town was like this, a mix of old and new, familiar and not. The things that had changed seemed out of place. The things that had remained the same made Charlie feel out of place. It must be so strange for Carlton to live here, she thought. “This is a nostalgia trip for you, but I just live here,” he had said. Somehow, Charlie was not sure she believed that.

When they got to the playing field behind the school, the bleachers were already full. Rows of folding chairs had been laid out in front of them to add more seating, and Charlie spotted Marla and the boys at the front.

“Oh, great,” she said. “I don’t want to sit in the front row.”

“I don’t mind,” Jessica said. Charlie looked at her.

Of course you don’t, she wanted to say. You’re… you.

“Yeah,” she said instead, “no big deal. Half the town must be here,” she observed as they made their way to the group, where two seats had been saved. There was one open in the front row, next to Carlton, and one right behind it, beside Marla. Jessica winked at Charlie and sat down next to Carlton. She leaned toward him and they started whispering. Charlie repeated herself to Marla.

“There’s a lot of people here,” she said.

“Yeah,” Marla said. “I mean, it’s a small town, you know? Michael’s… it was a big deal. Plus, his parents still live here. People remember.”

“People remember,” Charlie echoed softly. There was a small raised stage set up in front of them, with a podium and four chairs. Behind the chairs a screen was suspended, projected on it a larger-than-life picture of Michael. It was a close-up, just his face. It was not the most flattering picture: his head was thrown back at an odd angle, his mouth open in laughter, but it was perfect—a joyful moment, snatched up and kept, not curated. He looked happy.

“Darn it,” Marla said softly. Charlie looked at her. She was dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. Charlie put an arm around her.

“I know,” she said.

The sound system came on suddenly with a whine that slowly faded. Four people walked onstage: a heavyset man in a suit, who went straight to the microphone, an elderly woman, and a couple, a man and a woman. The man in the suit stepped up to the podium, and the elderly woman sat down in one of the four chairs. The couple stayed back, but they did not sit. Charlie knew they must be Michael’s parents, but she did not recognize them. When she was young they had just been parents, a species that was for the most part unremarkable. She realized, suddenly, that she didn’t even know their names; Michael’s parents had not gone out of their way to interact with their son’s friends, and Charlie had literally spoken to them as “Michael’s Mom,” and “Michael’s Dad,” as if those were appropriate forms of address.