Aiden Bennett and the Reality Shifters: Part one of Part one: Montauk

The pen hadn’t been worth stealing.

But yet, there it was, my fingers clicking it, twirling it around in my pocket. 

I made it onto the street before the store employee yelled, “Hey! That little boy stole something!”

But before we get to that story, I should probably introduce myself.

Hi. My name is Aiden Bennett. I’m thirteen years old, and homeless in Los Angeles, California.

Before you say anything, I don’t want your pity. If you actually saw me on the street, you would probably pass by as if I were invisible. You know you would.

That day I took the pen? It was the last normal day I ever had. I woke up and did the morningly dumpster dive for breakfast, finding only half of a stale bagel and something that loosely resembled a chunk of meat, ham maybe.

Then I walked into CVS and stole that pen.

So, anyway, the employee yelled, blah blah blah. Then I ran, because I panicked. I did take the pen. I had shoplifted, and there was no one to get me out of jail if I was put away.

My parents died in a fire five years ago. I was the only one to escape.

I ran along North Beaudry Avenue as fast as I could. The employee was about a hundred yards behind me, give or take.

I hung a right onto West Temple Street, and I knew I had to lose this employee, or at least put so much distance in between us that he gave up.

I hung a left onto North Bixel Street, and looked behind me. The employee was getting farther and farther away from me.

Oh, man. I wanted to be anywhere but here. In the slim chance that the employee caught up to me, I would be toast.

Then, I could see where North Bixel went into a T. But everything went black.

When I could see again, I didn’t have any time to stop before I hit a brick wall, smashing my nose.

“Ouch.” I said, rubbing my nose.

I looked around to try to figure out where I was, and what had just happened. I had been running towards a crossroads and now I stood in an alley?

I walked out of the alley and saw a street sign that read Maceo Street.

How had I gotten transported halfway across the city in three seconds?

I looked around a building to check for the police. I figured my description had probably been given to the patrols around West Temple, but a scraggly looking boy on his own in the streets looks suspicious enough,

I went to the next alley down, and hid there, however, I made the dumb mistake of not looking before entering this alley.

“Why, what do we have here? A little boy looking to give us all his valuables?”

I turned around to see a gang. Well, I’m sure they’d like to be called a gang. Five older looking boys had formed a semicircle behind me when I wasn’t looking. 

They all had ball caps with flat bills twisted backwards on their matching bald baby heads. They wore assorted shades of sagging denim, all the way from baby blue to deep blue. Dodgers jerseys adorned their backs, each with a different player. 

I sighed. “Did you guys get bored hanging around your mansions in the hills? I thought I did see a Ferrari on my way into this alley. So, how are you? How’s Mommy and Daddy and Fifi the poodle?”

One pulled out a knife. Another said, “Listen here, little boy. If you value your tongue, I would shut up.”

“And give us your valuables.” Another added.

I hated it when people called me little boy. For one, I was thirteen, not five. Two, I have been through so much, I don't think of myself as a kid anymore. Not an adult, but not a kid, either. When someone said little boy, it sounded as if someone in fairy tales were telling a very small child to go home. “Run along, little boy!”

I gripped my fathers pocket watch closer to my chest. It was the only thing other than me that survived the fire, and I wasn’t giving it up today, or any day.

“No.” I said, bravely.

One of them snapped his fingers, and another grabbed me, and the one with the knife held it to my throat.

“I’ll try again. Valuables. Now.”

I struggled against their big, meaty hands, but they just dug the knife deeper into my throat, causing a line of blood to drip down onto my chest.

What do I say? I don’t have any? If I say I don’t have any, then they would search me. And find Dad’s watch. And possibly kill me for lying.

Just as I finished that thought, a girl's voice yelled, “HEY! Stupids!”

I tried to twist my head to see my unknown savior, but the one with the knife held my face in place.

“Get out of here, girl. This doesn’t concern you.” One growled. It was enough to make me back away, but I sensed no retreat from her.

“Here’s a thought,” She said. “No.”

“What?” The leader said, clearly surprised by her answer. “Leave while you can.”

“Okay,” She said. “But I’m taking him with me.”

And everything went dark.

When I came to, I was in a mansion. An actual mansion. I never thought I would even get to step foot inside one, but here I am.

I look around, and I’m sitting on a ugly green velvet couch.

I bolt upright and look at the girl, who appeared sitting next to me on the couch.

“Where am I?” I demanded.

“Oakland, California.”

“What?! That’s like, five hundred miles from L.A.! What gives you the right to just zip zap zop me to wherever you want?”

“Nothing. But you're one of us.”

“One of you? What's that supposed to mean?”

“Come on. Everything will be explained over lunch. You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

I wanted to cross my arms and say I didn’t need their stupid rich person food, but my stomach gave away what I was really feeling.

I followed her into a huge dining room, and only three other people sat at the table. A man who looked to be in his forties, and then a boy and girl who looked to be about my age.

“Ah, welcome, Aiden. Sit anywhere.” The man said.

I wanted to ask who he is and why I’m here, but suddenly I am in a chair.

“Could you guys please stop doing that!?” I yell.

“Calm down, Aiden.” The man says.

“How do you know my name? Who are you? Why am I here?”

The man takes a deep breath, and chuckles.

“My name is Caleb Murphy. And these are-” He points around the table, first to the girl who brought me here. “Casey,” He points at the guy. “Jackson, but we all call her Jack.” I look at Casey and mouth the word her with a confused expression. She mouths back genderfluid. I nod. Okay. I’ll have to remember that. Lastly, Caleb points at the girl. “Zoe.”

“Okay.” I say, guard not down. “My name is Aiden. But you all seem to know that. How?”

“We’ve been watching you for years.” Caleb said. “We all thought you might be one of us, but we weren’t sure of it until you proved it today.”

“And how, exactly, did I, erm, prove it?” I make finger quotes around prove it.

“You teleported across Los Angeles.”

“On accident!”

“You still did it.” Casey cuts in.

I look at her. “You're not helping!”

She smirks. “I know.”

“Anyway,” Caleb says. “We have been watching you because we think you might be one of us. A Reality Shifter. Reality Shifters can do many things, such as teleport themselves or items, make people or things exist that had not before.” He demonstrates by waving his hands for a moment, and then, something appears in front of him on the table. I gasp. It’s Bear Bear!

“How did you...that burned in the fire.” I exclaim in disbelief.

Bear Bear was my childhood companion. He was a stuffed bear that had once been brown, but had come to resemble something white that had been dropped in mud. When he burned, he had been missing a button eye and the seam of one of his legs were ripped. Mom was going to fix it but...she hadn’t gotten around to it.

Now Bear Bear is sitting on the table in front of Caleb. I grab him and hug him close to my chest. “Wait.” I say, examining the bear. “How did you know he existed?”

“Seeing the past is simple. Now, anyway. Reality Shifters have great power. It’s not a skill you develop. You have to be born a Shifter, or...bad people become Shifters in a way that is...less pleasant.”

“Less pleasant? I want details!”

Casey looks my in the eyes and says in a monotone, “They will flay your body and consume your soul.”

“Fillet? Like a fish sandwich? I don’t want to be a fish sandwich!”

“No, dummy. F-L-A-Y. Flay. You will not become a fish sandwich. If your soul is consumed, whoever consumes it will have all your powers.”

“But I would still have the same ending as a fish sandwich. My soul would be digested and end up in the sewer?”

She rolls her eyes, probably because I’m right.

“So!” Caleb tries to steer the conversation back on topic. “Don’t let the bad people kill you!” He looks at my empty plate, then says, “Casey, will you show him his room, please?”

She gets up and says, “Come on, idiot.”

I followed her to the stairs, where she rematerialized at the top.

“I can’t do that! Unfair!” I shout at her from the bottom of the one hundred plus steps.

“You can!” She shouts back. “Just imagine yourself up here! In fact, you need to make it like a hobby. Something you do for fun”

I close my eyes and try to concentrate. Hobby? I figure that it looks to Casey like I’m trying to make a deposit.

Nothing happened.

So I began my journey up Mount Everstairs.

About 10 minutes later, I made it to the top. 

“Nice to see you, Aiden.” She says. “It’s been a while.”

“Shut up.” I say.

Finally, we come to a door marked Aiden Bennett.

When I get a hold over my supposed powers, I decide I will change it to make it say Go Away.

“Here you go.” She says. “Dinner’s at seven and training is at nine tomorrow morning.”

“Thanks.”

I push open the door, expecting it to be as bland and boring as the rest of the mansion, with frilly flower wallpaper, “antiques”, delicate vases with even more delicate roses propped inside them.

I was wrong.

It was my room.

You may be thinking, Of course it’s your room Aiden, your name’s on the door.

It was my room from before the house burned down. The same charcoal grey walls. The same Lightning McQueen bedspread (I was seven, give me a break). The same bookshelves stocked all the way full with the same books. Same shag carpet. 

I walked over to the dresser and opened a drawer. It was exactly the same. It was like I could walk out this door into the hall and walk into the kitchen to find Mom making dinner. It was as if I could almost hear our cat Bones purring on my bed.

It was so familiar it hurt. This was life was something I had grieved over, but I had moved on. This room brought me back to that night when I smelled smoke in the attic. I had sat bolt upright in this bed. 

I have to remind myself that this is not that same bed. It’s a replica. A twin.

I sink down to my knees. This room is so much. It was nice of Caleb to think of this, but I want it gone.

My eyes are closed, and a lone tear runs down my cheek. 

I force myself not to cry anymore. Their death is done. I have grieved. Move on.

When I open my eyes, it’s not the same room. It still has the carpet, but it was different. White walls. Black bedspread. Black bookshelves filled with all the books I had read at the public library the last five years.

I can live with this. This is better than it was. 

Did I do this with my powers? Or did the room change on its own?

Then a thought crossed my mind.

If I can change reality, can I bring my parents back?

I can’t even think of this question right now. I try to dismiss it, but it keeps coming back.

No. First things first. Getting used to this odd life before making it odder.

But still another question I have: I have been living on the streets for five years, digging food out of dumpsters when I could have been making it just appear out of thin air?

It would have been nice if I had known I had these powers just a tad sooner, I decided.