The Pac-Man Machine
The arcade was deserted, leaving only the flashng lights and cheery music to keep the old shopkeeper company. The clock on the wall struck 3:00, and, perfecty on time, a crowd of girls paraded through the door, bringing a gust of summer air with them. They asked for pizza at the counter, but it was already cooking. A day without Pac-Man champ Meg Morgan and her gang of friends was something unusual.
"Nice day, isn't it?" asked Mr. Phillips, the elderly owner. The Somerville Arcade had been around since 1970, and Mr. Phillips still ran it alone today, over 20 years later. Of course, nowadays business wasn't exactly booming. The lights in the sign out front had long since burned out, and the machines were coated in dust. The girls were usually the only customers.
"Yep," one replied.
"Only 10 more days before summer!" chirped another.
Mr. Phillips grinned. Their worries and excitements always seemed so silly and trivial to the experienced old man. The girls chattered on, but something else had caught his attention, the silence of Meg. It wasn't unusual for the tall, skinny teen to be quiet, but there was something different lately, ever since her Aunt Maddy had died. Meg was attentive, but lacked the enthusiasm. She talked, but didn't really care.
"Poor kid," thought Mr. Phillips, as he pulled out a fresh, hot pizza for the girls.
"Meg, don't you want any?" he asked, noticing her sitting on a stool a little ways down from her friends.
"Ummm...no, i'm not really hungry. I'm going to go play a game instead."
She slipped off her stool and disappeared in to the maze of arcade games. Once out of view of the others, she stopped. She hadn't really had any desire to play games, but she didn't feel like talking either.
Ding, ding, ding! Wheeee-oooo! Wheee-oooo!
Meg jumped and turned around to see a dusty Pac-Man machine, lights flashing, and music playing.
"Winner, winner, winnner!"
The words danced across the screen. Meg opened her mouth to call for Mr. Phillips. He'd need to fix the machine. The words never left her mouth. Something was being typed on the screen, a name. M-A-D-D-Y-M-O-R-G-A-N.
High Scores
Name Score
MaddyMorgan 1,976,420
Meg felt her eyes widen. She tried to look around for the source of the name, but she was totally alone, except for her friends, who were still up front eating pizza.
"Names stay on for years," she told herself.
"But this one was typed just now," something else told her, as excitement bubbled in her stomach. Maddy Morgan. Aunt Maddy.
"She's dead," she reminded herself, but her stomach still tingled with hopefulness.
"Hey mom," Meg said casually as she scrubbed dishes that evening, "Did Aunt Maddy go to the arcade a lot when she was..." She couldn't bring herself to say 'alive.' "ummm...a kid?"
Mrs. Morgan looked up from the dishes and stared into her daughter's murky brown eyes, clearly surprised to hear her voluntarily bring up the issue of her favorite aunt.
"Yeah," Mrs. Morgan finally said. "She was really good at Pac-Man. That's probably where you get it from, " she added with a smile. "In fact..."Mrs. Morgan began to walk towards the living room. "I think we have a picture..." She pulled out a old scrapbook from under the coffee table. "Here.. That's Maddy in the front."
Meg reached gingerly for the faded photo. A tall thin girl grinned back at her . Her bellbottoms and flowered shirt hung loosely on her boney frame. The girl looked nothing like the Maddy Meg had known. This girl was much younger, much skinnier, but the smile was the same goofy grin. She was standing in front of the Somerville Arcde, only it was in much better shape. A blue ribbon with teh words "Somerville Arcade High Score Winner" written in gold was hanging from Maddy's fingers.
"She was there," Meg whispered as she gazed at the photo, "She was there."
Meg's cheerfulness surpirised everyone the next day. For the first time since Maddy's death, she felt happy, hopeful, even cheery. She bounced in her chair until the bell finally rang. She tried to hurry her friends without looking too obvious. When the smell of dust and pizza finally reached her freckled nose, she could hardly contain her excitment. She raced to the Pac-Man machine from yesterday, and to her delight, saw her aunt's name was written again.
"She was back..." Meg murmured. Meg slipped a coin into the game and began to play, watching her points rise, only stopping when she was sure she had just under her aunt's score.
"High Score! Type your name here!" flashed across the screen. Meg took a deep breath.
"ImMegMorgan" She didn't have enough room to finish her message. It took her two more games to complete it.
High Scores
Name Score
ImMegMorgan 987,548
YouNiece 957,682
InFuture 899,760
"Meg, where are you?" Meg left hastily, for fear of being found out by her friends. They'd probably put her in an asylum if they knew.
Meg couldn't focus in school the next day. Would a teenage Maddy receive her message? Would she understand? What would she write?
High Scores
Names Score
NutJob 886,543
Meg stared at teh screen. She felt as if she'd lost a best friend. Aunt Maddy didn't get it. Tears glistened in her eyes.
"But she got your message," something told her, "Try again."
Meg did. Everyday after school, and through the summer, Meg played and typed in her high score messages. Everyday, a message from Maddy waited for her. It wasn't until September before Maddy finally resigned herself to believing Meg, and Meg couldn't have been happier. She skipped and danced to the arcade the next day, but Maddy hadn't written. She didn't write the next day, or the next. Meg flopped down on a stool, feeling moody and depressed. She pulled her sweater closer, and sipped at ehr milkshake.
"Your aunt only came in the summer," Mr. Phillips said kindly.
Meg was shocked. He knew?
"Only one summer, when we first opened. After that, kids her age got different interests. Don't look so surprised. I've been reading your converstations."
"Did...did you know the machine could do that?" Meg asked uncertainly.
"No," he admitted, "but i'll tell you this: that's thing's been her since we opened."
"And...she isn't writing anymore because she isn't playing anymore...or ever again?" Meg was heartbroken. Her chance to talk to her aunt was stolen from her forever.
Meg hugged her teddy bear as seh lay in bed that nihgt. Thunderstorms still scared her at age13, and she looke to Mo the Bear asa source of comfort. Mo was falling apart. He was a present from when Meg was a baby. She stroked his dirty fur and tried to re-stuff him. Her hand hit something rough, a piece of paper, tucked inside the bear. Metg pulled it out and ead it in the dim light.
To Meg,
My "future" niece
Much Love,
Aunt Maddy
She had remembered.
