More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
School had ended three days ago, the gates closing with a thunderous finality the children knew was the lowest form of deception. Even as they cast one last glance over their shoulders at the low, hulking building—the antithesis of summer's glow—the school had seemed smug and patient, knowing the children's leashes were not as long as they thought.
😂 I need to copy this one for my students hahaha
Though he'd always been an introverted kid, he became even more so when his mother passed away two summers ago. Now when Timmy spoke to him, he sometimes had to repeat himself until Pete realized he could not get away without answering.
Reminds me of my old self
The two of them were polar opposites but the best of friends, united by their unflagging interest in the unknown and the undiscovered.
So true! Why are all childhood friendships the spit image of this description? And yet, as we grow older, we tend to form a tribe of seemly similar characters...
If someone had whispered an insult to his mother into his ear, he wouldn't have been any less disturbed than he was by that smile. It was crooked, and wrong.
Strangers always seem odd and misplaced and untrustworthy somehow
And then the kid spoke: "Darryl," he said in words spun from filaments of phlegm,
Oh... descriptive
Pete and found him in his sun-washed kitchen, hunched over a bowl of cereal as if afraid someone was going to steal it.
This kid’s got some weird behavior on him
Where did you get the shiner?" "Fell." "Where?" Pete shrugged but said nothing further and while this wasn't unusual,
Oh!!! A gift from dad? It would explain a lot of his other... erm... things
Pete was accident-prone. Every other week he had some kind of injury to display.
Right...’accidents’
"I told him not to hang around with you anyway. You're trouble. Just like your father."
Hmmm...where is all this animosity coming from?...
but it was a nice fantasy, and he silently thanked her for not making fun of his efforts.
All we gave long for is a partner in crime, is it not? Someone to venture in crazy shenanigans with and someone who’ll fuel the spark in our imagination.
"They've ruined it, haven't they?" It took him a moment to realize what she was referring to and then he told her that yes, they had ruined it. The construction crews dedicated to tearing up the land they'd once played in seemed equally driven to foul whatever they'd been prohibited to touch. Gullies became dumping grounds for material waste, streams became muddied and paths cracked beneath the groaning and shrieking metal of their monstrous machines. Timmy joined her in a moment of mournful pondering at the senselessness of it all,
All the possibilities for adventures... taken away just like that.
Behind them in the distance, the hungry heavens rumbled as God made a dark stew of the sky.
Such beautiful imagery
A terrifying thought sparked in his mind: Does this mean she's my girlfriend?
😂 the level of priorities haha
He’s not worried about the odd sounds coming at him from the forest, rather he’s preoccupied that he’s holding hands with a girl... haha
Timmy heard Mr. Marshall mutter darkly, "We already have a problem. But I'll fix that. You'll see."
What’s his problem?! Damn lunatic!!
"Timmy, I won't be long. We'll just have a little chat, that's all."
It’s too ominous a scene for it to be just that...
The storm was worsening, buffeting the house and blinding the windows. Lightning flashed, ravenous thunder at its heels, the sibilance of the rain an enraged serpent struggling to find entry through the cracks beneath the doors. It was the kind of weather when bad things happened, Timmy thought, the kind when monsters stepped out of the shadows to bask in the fluorescent light of the storm, drinking the rain and snatching those foolish enough to venture into their domain.
What a description 👏🏼
He felt he now stood at the epicenter of higher forces that revolved around him in the guise of a storm, that this little family play was taking place in its eye, tragedy waiting in the wings. "I want to go with you."
Brave boy... but he won’t fall for it and all these ominous circumstances are going to materialize as those very unknown things you’re fearing
unbroken, unblemished. Pure. This, Timmy realized, was who The Turtle Boy had been before he'd changed into the malevolent, seething figure of decay and disease they'd found on the bank that day. This was Darryl before whatever had corrupted him had compelled him to feed himself to the turtles.
Hmm... so parallel dimensions divided by some sort of meteorological magical portal and antithetical sides of the same character according to each... where is this going?
Familial Trauma? Fae Fantasy? Mystical Folklore?
The stranger's awful blank face
Why this symbolism with faces, this facial distortion ?...
"You don't know who did it. When you do, remember what you saw and let it change you. There is only time to let one of them pay for his crimes tonight." "I don't understand!"
I don’t understand either Timmy but we’ll do it!!
They'll explain it to you." "Who?" "People like me. The people on The Stage."
The Who now? 😳
the final reason, the last barrier stopping him from releasing the dread and shaking off the skeins of clambering horror was the recollection of something else The Turtle Boy had said: You don't know who did it. When you do, remember what you saw and let it change you.
This does not abode well
He sobbed at the realization that the They Darryl had mentioned, the They who would show him what he needed to learn, were the dead. He would see them now. Again and again. Everywhere.
Oh, so that’s what the riddle meant... hmmm
Not much of a twist there
Was thinking something else more in the likes of his father somehow having something to do with it all...
Slightly disappointed I must confesse
All that was left were questions: Why did he want to hurt Dad? Why did he ask me if I'd die for him? Why did he say maybe he deserved to die?
Ah-ah! So maybe I’m getting my twist after all 😏
And a face that peered over his right shoulder, grinning. Timmy choked on a scream. "Mine, now," said Mr. Marshall.
Oh shit ...
