The Lightwielder Files

Chapter 1

Max’s dad, Malcolm, didn’t cast a shadow. Sure, Max Vandhurst looked up to his father immensely, but he didn’t feel overshadowed by him. But he didn’t cast a shadow which he knew meant something after his dad went missing. 

A week before, when Max got back from school for summer, he was lying out in front of the apartment. The sun was shining bright and high, rare in Chicago, so blissful and beyond brilliant, not that Max had the most experience. He wouldn’t bake in the sun, not that he had much experience with heat.  

“Max get out of the sun”, his dad yelled, dragging him off the floor and back into the apartment. This doesn’t happen very often, but the rare times it did, coincided with the rare times of sunshine in Streeterville. 

“Dad, there is a thing called sunscreen you know”, Maz snapped, pulling away from his father’s grasp, which was not an easy thing to do.  Max was fit in his own mind, a healthy pad of stomach with lean arms and legs at 14 years old and a mop of chestnut brown hair, but his dad on the other hand was a former rugby player and still had the body to go with it. So though Max wasn't a rag doll he sure as hell felt like one.

“Look if you go out in the sun, at least wear your sunhat and your  jacket, remember your complexion.”

Max rolled his eyes and cringed inwardly at his gentle but man's man of a father talking about complexion. He only washed his face with soap, but Max obeyed nonetheless because whether or not the sun had an effect on his relatively tan complexion, he would admit to no one, not even his dad, that being in the sun did make him feel funny inside. And this was with pounds of sunblock, a green visor, and a white rainjacket. He put on the jacket just before he saw an unnatural shine on his skin, he felt like he was Edward Cullen in Twilight on the verge of sparkling. That would be a nightmare, one that he always felt like he was on the verge of living, every time the sun came out. 

 His dad went to his office while Max threw his bag down on his bed and changed out of his school clothes. He put his navy blinds down quickly to quench any hint of sunlight. Just before he could finish, though, a stubborn ray caught his attention. It reminded him of the lase rulers they used in woodshop to make sure that the shelves were perfectly level. He hesitantly reached out. It could’t hurt him. He was inside. The sun was blaring down on him like outside and he was still wearing his white jacket. 

The ray felt warm and welcoming, like a friend or what Max imagined having a real friend would feel like.  He clasped a hand around it and sure enough, it seemed to fade until he removed his hand. Typical of light, until the second time he got curious. He reached out his index finger drawn by something he couldn’t control and touched the ray. This time it jumped away. Max jumped back, blinking his green eyes to make sure this wasn't a trick of the light, so to speak. Odd, he thought. 

Then he tried it again, reached out a hand to the light. Only this time it jumped. Max waved and shook, he twisted his fingers and it bounced.  Suddenly an odd warmth filled Max starting from the tips of his fingers and the soles of his feet. He took a deep breath as something like honey enveloped him and as soon as it was there, it was gone and so was the sunbeam. 

Before he could comprehend what had happened, there was a knock on the door. 

“It’s open”, Max yelled then slapped his forward. Stupid, his room didn’t even have a lock. He picked up a random comic from his collection as the door opened. He didn't want his dad to think he had been playing in the light. 

“Good to know”, Malcolm chuckled but it was hollow and his eyes flitted through the door as if he was expecting something out of place. “How you holding up.”

“I’m good”, Max replied. “Excited for Summer.”

Malcolm nodded in acknowledgment but he didn't seem to be paying attention. 

“That’s good, that’s good. I got a call for a job downtown. Do you want to come?”

Max raised a slightly too bushy in his opinion eyebrow. He envied how orderly his dad’s were. 

“What is this bring your kid to work today?”

Malcolm laughed leaning his hefty frame against the doorframe. “The address is near that comic store you like so much.”

Max placed his copy of Civil War volume 2  down on his bed. “Planet 51?”

“So that’s what it’s called. Do you want to come?”

“Sure dad.”

Max shoved his feet into his black Converses and followed his dad into the sitting room, Where Malcolm picked up his toolbox. He was an electrician. He worked freelance with a company but was allowed to be called for his own jobs. 

There was a time Max wanted to be an electrician like his dad until he got his color blindness diagnosis. Sure, there were ways around it but after that, he threw himself into woodwork. He always knew he had a knack for things with his hands. On the kitchen table was a rocket and a family of swans each feather carved to singularity. This was what he wanted to do with his life. 

Once downstairs, they got into the van and drove off to downtown Chicago. While Max was listlessly playing snake on his phone, although he was more of RPG guy, he liked the simplicity of the classic game, Malcolm cast looks at his son while he thought he wasn’t looking. 

The honey-thick feeling in Max’s room was back again, and Max let the snake crash into a wall once it got too large. Despite the warmth, he shivered. He shoved his phone back into this pocket, then his hands. He clenched them together like he was taught in scouts for warmth.

“You okay kid”, Malcolm asked.

“Yeah, yeah. Just-” Hot, cold, ambiguous. He really didn't know what to say. 

“Well, we’re here now, the store’s just down the road.”

He parked and they got out, in front of a rundown-looking block of apartments. Litter blew in the gentle breeze against the walls as a trash-picker did his rounds. Before Max could think or say anything else, two people came out of the building. They didn’t look that much older than Max but that could have been how they were dressed. . One was an Indian boy wearing a green bomber jacket, a gamer tee, and a pair of black shorts. His companion was a Black girl with the bottom of her hair dyed hot red, a black mesh top with a white shirt underneath, and a pair of black leather leggings. 

  Max couldn’t take his eyes off the girl.

“Are you the electrician?'' the boy asked, already directing Maaclom into the house once he saw his toolbox. Max started to walk away down towards the comic book store when he saw the look shared between his dad and the girl. She kept looking at him but his dad looked like he was in pain. What the hell was that about? He threw it out of his mind and made his way to the store. After about half an hour of strolling through the shelves, especially the new releases, and setting his eye upon which of the Funko Pops and other figurines he would try to carve from wood, he decided to go back to the apartment and wait for his dad to finish up. 

Luckily, his timing was on point, Malcolm was just coming out of the apartment obviously done but unluckily he was seemed mad, and weirder still that girl from before was running after him.