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silvstory · 10 months

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The Stupendous Silver Striker: Issue One, Part One

As the final bell's impending ring echoed through the bustling hallways of Robert Goddard High School, Gary Hammerschmidt deftly maneuvered through the swarm of students. He weaved through the crowded corridors, skillfully dodging classmates, lockers, and even a particularly aggressive dodgeball that whizzed past his ear.

“Sorry!” Gary cried out, narrowly avoiding a collision with a pair of students who materialized from his blind spot. He bobbed and weaved with a mix of agility and grace.

Ordinarily, Gary wouldn't be in such a hurry. He didn't usually have any pressing extracurriculars to rush to, but today was an exception.

Having received a slew of new additions for his ever-expanding model city as a reward for acing his latest test, Gary couldn't contain his excitement. The thought of returning home and immersing himself in his miniature world sent a surge of joy through his veins.

As he approached the double doors that led to his freedom, Bristol Lucian, his best friend, caught up with him.

“Hey, Gary!” Bristol grinned, sidling up beside him and nudging the doors open, gesturing for Gary to pass through first. “Got any plans for this afternoon? I'm building a new PC and could really use your help.”

Gary reciprocated Bristol's smile, adjusting his backpack onto one shoulder as he slowed his pace. He could momentarily suppress his excitement to converse with his friend.

"Sorry, Dude," Gary said apologetically. "I've got my own project to dive into."

"Oh! Right, more additions for your little city!" Bristol realized, a spark of understanding brightening his eyes. "How about tomorrow, then?"

Gary pondered for a moment. He had already committed to his model for the rest of the day, and the same applied to tomorrow. But it had been a week since he had spent quality time with Bristol, and a pang of guilt tugged at his heart. After all, as his mom often said, people come first.

"Sure! I'd love to. I'll swing by tomorrow after dropping off my stuff."

"Sounds like a plan. See you tomorrow!"

With that, Bristol turned and headed for the sidewalk. Gary wished he could walk with him, but they lived on opposite sides of the city, so their paths diverged.

His walk home was blissfully uneventful, and Gary was able to slip into his imagination and begin to pre-plan what he’d do next.

I should probably add a couple more townhouses in the residential district, He thought, kicking a rock along in front of him as he made his way down the sidewalk, There just aren’t enough of them.

Gary‘s “fatal flaw“, as his dad called it, was that he just didn’t know when to quit. Currently, he had a perfectly good city, it was large, imposing, and it was filled with all sorts of wonderful miniature architecture, but there were no minute details. Gary was often so busy adding more and more buildings, that he neglected to add any figures at all. So, the city got bigger and bigger, but there were no residents or streetlights to fill it. Gary had asked for figures, but the thing was, they might never be used.

A short time later, Gary turned a corner and found himself on his street. He jogged the last few paces and then up the stairs to the front stoop where he paused to search for his keys before jamming them in the lock and letting himself into the house.

”Afternoon, kiddo!” Derek Hammershmidt called from the kitchen as soon as Gary entered the parlor. Gary could almost swear that his dad had a sort of sixth sense that was only useful for knowing when people were entering the house.

”Hey, Dad,” Gary returned the greeting, swinging his backpack off of his shoulder and letting it drop to the floor next to the pile of shoes that waited patiently beside the front door. Kicking off his own shoes, he wandered into the kitchen, “Lunch break?”

Gary’s dad nodded and held up a half-empty plate of pork chop leftovers,

”Yup. I take ‘em when I can, my last meeting was two hours long,” He grunted. Gary’s dad worked from home, so he was almost always around when Gary got home. Usually, he’d just come downstairs a few minutes after Gary came through the door, but sometimes he happened to be downstairs on a break.

”They’re working you to death,” Gary smirked, grabbing a can of soda from the refrigerator, “Also, you do know that Mom went to the store yesterday, right?” He pointed out, with another grin, “You don’t have to eat last night‘s leftovers.”

"And waste the rest of your mother's splendid cooking? I think not. I am the Leftover King!"

Gary rolled his eyes in a lighthearted display of feigned annoyance. Truthfully, he found his father's quirks rather endearing, but playing the part of the generic teenager was all part of the fun.

"Speaking of Mom, where is she, anyway?" Gary inquired, glancing out of the kitchen window. It seemed that Ruby Hammershmidt wasn't in the garden, her usual afternoon haunt.

"She's off picking up something she bought. A side table or something," Derek shrugged. "She should be back in about half an hour. Left a little while ago."

Gary nodded in understanding. His mom was usually off buying and selling antiques and stuff like that while Gary was at school. It was a hobby of hers that Gary took an interest in. Sometimes, when a piece needed to be fixed or refurbished, Gary would help out with some of the materials he had squirreled away in the attic. It was often good mother-son bonding time.

Gary then took a couple more sips of his soda, decided that he really wanted to get to work, drained the rest of his soda, and tossed the can in the trash. He then turned and made for the stairs, but his dad stopped him.

”Woah, woah, Rocketeer, where’re you headed?”

“My room. I want to get to work on my city,” Gary explained, halfway turning to face him, “I’ve been waiting all day, Dad.”

Gary‘s dad raised an eyebrow but said nothing else. He then shrugged,

”Alright, go on, kiddo. Have fun with your city. Build me a nice big house with a pool, won’t you?” He joked, cracking a smile, “Just make sure to come downstairs for dinner and not get sucked into that little world of yours, righto?”

Gary nodded once, already turning back towards the stairs,

”Alright, yes sir!” And then he was off, running up the stairs towards his room.

Gary raced into his room like the man on a mission that he was, and he skidded to a stop at the door, his shoes slipping on the hardwood. He knew he was a bit over excited to get back to work on something that he’d been working on for nigh months now, but that was just how he was. He just had to grab a few things before he went up to the attic, where he kept the model city. Most of his models, like the Eiffel Tower and the White House, for example, had their own space on Gary’s shelves, but since the city was so massive, it was up in the attic, which was fine for Gary since that was also where his parents made him keep his hoard of bits-and-bobs for model-making..

Gary grabbed his travel-friendly model-making kit and went to the end of the hallway and pulled down the ladder for the attic. He pushed the kit up the ladder and onto the attic floor in front of him before he pulled himself up the ladder. He always found it hard to climb stairs or ladders with stuff in his hands. Gary had this weird thing about wanting to be able to see his feet when he was going up things.

The attic was dark and dusty, so Gary pulled the cord directly above him, turning on a single LED bulb and shedding the space in bright white light. He picked up his kit and made his way over to his model city, which he had covered with a sheet the night before to prevent it from somehow getting dirty or messed up.

Gary whipped off the sheet and then stood for a moment, admiring his handiwork.

”Now that is what I call a great place to live,” Gary said, doing an announcer impression with a grin of pride on his face, “Crime rate? Zero. Coolness rate? One hundred percent!”

He chuckled to himself and put down his burden, kneeling and opening the kit while spreading the different tools around so he could get a good look at them all and decide which one he was going to use.

Where did I put my tweezers? He wondered, sifting through the disorganized kit with his eyebrows knitted together, I could have sworn I put it back in here last night…?

Then, Gary remembered. He’d left his tweezers on the table in his bedroom because he’d brought them down to re-add a couple pieces to his White House, which had lost a pillar and a windowsill.

“Shoot,” He said aloud, looking at the trapdoor and thinking whether or not it was worth it to climb back down the ladder and back to his room, Well, while I’m up here I should add in a couple figures. It’s about time.

Gary stood and brushed himself off. He turned, went over to the corner where he kept the figures and other materials, and he opened one of the drawers he knew held the plastic trees and streetlights. He didn’t think his city was yet ready for a civilian population, but a couple trees, streetlights, and other fixtures wouldn’t hurt to add some atmosphere. He gathered the figures and deposited them in the only empty space in his city, the park. It would serve as a holding spot until he could disperse the items evenly among the many buildings. He observed the pile for a moment before frowning thoughtfully.

I’m missing something. I’ve got the regular city stuff, but the park’s going to be pretty empty save for some trees… yeah. Parks usually have gaudy statues and stuff, but I don’t know if I have any of those on hand, He swept his eyes around the attic before they landed on an old trunk that he recalled his dad once telling him belonged to his grandpa, Hey! Grandpa was an architect. Maybe he had some little models he used for planning or something?

Gary climbed over piles of boxes and maneuvered around random items that had been put up in the attic for storage until he reached the trunk. There wasn’t a lock on it, but as Gary sat down and tried to open it, he found that it was a lot harder to open than he expected as the latch was rusted a bit. Gritting his teeth, he pulled with all his might, and the trunk popped open with a slight cracking noise.

Inside, there wasn’t much to look at. It was mainly empty, save for a photo album, personal papers, a wedding ring, a small statuette of a broadsword, and then just a couple of random items that seemed to have no sort of connection to each other.

I guess Grandpa was a bit of a minimalist, Gary thought, reaching down into the chest and taking out the broadsword, This would work for the park, though. I can put it on a hill or something. If I add a little plaque or something on the base of it it‘ll look just like any old memorial.

Gary then put the statuette on the edge of a box behind him and he began to dig through the papers, curious to know if he could discover anything interesting about the grandfather that died before he was born. He leafed through them, skimming underneath headers that seemed like they’d contain interesting tidbits, but he stopped after the third or fourth paper. The long, vague life of Jason Hammerschmidt wasn’t all too interesting of a read.

Gary stood and turned around to grab the statuette, ready to return to his city and then grab his tweezers, when he knocked his knuckle against the statuette. Gary’s heart seemed to skip a beat as it wobbled on its base, but it didn’t fall.

Whew, that was close. I don’t want to break that of a things! Gary thought, grabbing the statuette in his hand and walking towards the narrow path he’d made between the towering stacks of boxes, Dad would probably kill me.

Gsry turned a corner, and his shoulder bumped against one of the box towers. Then, a couple of unfortunate things happened in very quick succession.

First, the statuette slipped out of Gary’s hand, and, faster than he could duck down to try to grab it, it shattered against the floor. Then, Gary felt a severely strong force rush against him, and his vision was obscured by what looked like silver mist as he fell backwards and hit his head on a box behind him.

Gary‘s vision blurred, and for a moment all he could think was that he really didn’t want to get a concussion or die alone in the attic from blunt force trauma. Everything then went black, but just as quickly, his vision cleared.

Gary sat up, rubbing the back of his head, not sure if he was sure of what had just happened. It seemed to have happened so fast that his brain had struggled to register it. He tried recounting it in his head, but it was still just as confusing.

Gary turned to look at the offending box, a purple plastic one with the label “Dad’s Pots”. He scowled as he stood back up. Now his head hurt and he’d just broken one of his Dad’s last remaining items of his father’s!

Gary supposed he could try to recover the pieces and glue them back together, but when he looked for where he dropped it, he couldn’t find a single trace of it.

Maybe it rolled between the boxes…? Gary thought, getting on his hands and knees and pushing boxes and other junk out of the way. This is just great! I broke and lost it in one fell swoop!

Gary spent well over an hour trying to find the statuette, but no matter where he looked, he couldn’t find even the slightest trace of it. He didn’t give up, even though he was feeling a little funky and his head hurt. He only halted his search when he heard his mom calling him down for dinner.

Gary sighed deeply before climbing down the ladder and closing the trap door. He decided not to tell his parents about the broken statuette until he found it. He wanted to make sure it was actually broken before he went and got himself in trouble for it, because while he’d heard the sound of it shattering, he actually hadn’t seen it, and he was hoping that the damage wasn’t as bad as the sound had implied.

Gary trudged his feet when he reached the kitchen, and he flopped into a chair. His dad raised an eyebrow when he saw him. Clearly, Gary’s dad was confused and maybe a bit concerned by the sudden demeanor change from how he’d been couple hours before.

”You okay, Gary?” Gary’s mom asked, ever vigilant to her son’s appearance as she set a plate of lasagna in front of him, “You look… ruffled.”

”I’m fine, mom,” Gary said, feigning nonchalance despite the fact that he was still feeling a little odd, “Though, I did fall and hit my head in the attic. I’m fine, now!” He added the last part on rather quickly as his mom‘s expression twisted into a frown, “It doesn’t hurt anymore or anything.”

Ruby Hammerschmidt was excellent at telling when her son or husband was lying, but she seemed to not be too worried about Gary this time, as she let it slide and dropped the topic.

Gary was grateful that she’d left him alone on that, as he really just wanted to finish his dinner and get to bed. A good night’s sleep would make him feel better, that he was certain. He practically inhaled his lasagna and then brought his empty plate to the dishwasher.

”Thanks Mama, that was delicious. Also, despire the fact that I’m feeling fine, I do feel a little tired, so you don’t mind if I go to bed early tonight?” Gary asked, trying his best not to rub the back of his head, where a small welt had formed.

Gary’s parents exchanged a look. Clearly, there would be further questioning now or in the morning depending on whether or not they wanted to talk about his behavior. Gary hoped it would be held off for the morning because he suddenly was feeling very drained.

”That’s fine,“ Gary’s mom said after a moment or two as she walked over and gave Gary a hug and a kiss on his forehead, “Sleep well, and make sure that you’ve got any and all of your homework finished.”

Thankfully, Gary thought, reciprocating the hug, I didn’t get any homework today.

Gary then hugged his dad around the neck and turned to go upstairs, not running this time like he had only a couple hours before.

In his room, Gary kicked off his shoes and put his glasses on the bedside table before flopping down on his bed. He had been intending on laying down for a moment before getting up to do his night time routine, but sleep hit him like a sack of bricks, and he was out like a light in mere minutes.

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