Young Writers Society

~1103 words

It was finally Tuesday night, and Ivy stood at the flower shop window, watching for Nikki. She tapped her foot impatiently, and constantly checked the sun’s position in the sky. The meeting would start at dusk, and the sun was already brushing the horizon. She started pacing her shop, then opened the door to her small office where Ghost lay asleep. She had given his a bowl of water and food, and had dressed his wounds again only that afternoon. He should be fine while she was away. She felt the smooth, soft hair on his head, and he opened one yellow eye partway to look at her. The end of his tail padded the ground a bit before he closed his eye again, as if saying “Yeah yeah. Let me sleep.” Ivy wandered back to her store’s front window and waited some more. When she heard Nikki’s cart’s wheels rumbling on the cobblestones, Ivy flew out the door, pausing only briefly to lock it. She ran up to Nikki, who was looking a little worn-out from her work.

“Where were you? It’s already dusk!” Ivy exclaimed.

“Someone’s a little excited,” said Nikki.

“I just hate being late to anything.”

“Mind if I park my cart out back behind your shop?”

“Not at all. And guess what?”

“Thanks,” said Nikki, wheeling her cart around back. “What?”

“I found a cat out there, Saturday night. I woke up in the middle of the night, wandered around my shop, and heard him crying outside.”

“Crying?” asked Nikki. They started walking toward the secret alleyway entrance to the workshop.

“Yeah, he was all ripped up, like he’d been in a fight.”

“Cool. But if you wanted a cat you could’ve taken one of the million barn cats we have. They’re a nuisance.”

“I didn’t know I wanted a cat until I met Ghost.”

“That’s what you named him then?”

Ivy shrugged. “Seemed fitting.”

---

“Welcome to your second meeting,” Grey said grandly. His voice echoed all around the huge workshop. “Today I’ll be asking you some questions to determine your helpfulness levels.”

“Only if we get to ask some questions too,” Nikki shot back.

Grey hesitated a moment before shrugging. “That’s fair.”

Ivy sat quietly, wondering how she would be able to help at all. She doubted these inventors needed flower arrangements. They were sitting at a small wooden table that was one of the only flat surfaces in the workshop that was not cluttered with bits of metal and parts of machines.

“Question: the first,” Grey began, “Have you ever had any experience working with metal or machines?”

Ivy shook her head, but Nikki squinted. “Once I went to a neighboring farm and they taught me how to use their new steam-powered tractor,” She said. “Does that count?”

Grey bobbled his head around. “It counts for something, I suppose.”

“Oh! Oh! And I help my father when he makes shoes for the horses or fixes our broken equipment! Can’t believe I forgot about that.”

“That definitely counts,” said Grey. “None from you, Ivy?”

Ivy shook her head again. Grey looked disappointed.

“My turn to ask a question,” stated Nikki. “What the heck is this secret society called?”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you? We call ourselves the Lightbox Society. I mean, we’re not much of a society. Just me and Alder and sometimes Jack, and my friend Tommy sometimes…”

“Wait, I thought Jack just listened to Mr. Thornton’s rants,” said Ivy.

“That’s what he wants you to think,” said Grey with a wink.

“Why’s it called the Lightbox Society?” asked Nikki.

“Ah ah ah!” said Grey. “Not your turn to ask a question. It’s mine,” he said with a sinister grin.

Ivy raised an eyebrow. “Are you going to ask us if we’ve killed anyone before or something?”

Grey sighed. “I wish. Assuming you girls can read, how often do you read the news?”

“I grow the darn paper roses,” said Nikki indignantly.

“And I sell them,” said Ivy with the same tone.

“Okay, okay. I guess it stands to reason you’d read the news every day.”

Nikki looked at Grey expectantly.

“What?” he said.

“Why’re you called the Lightbox Society,” she repeated.

“Oh yeah. Well, I came up with the name. One of the first inventions I helped Alder with soon after I became his apprentice was the lightbox. I was eight, and he wasn’t quite as cracked as he is now. There wasn’t really a need to have a name for it back then, but it stuck.”

“What’s a lightbox?” asked Ivy.

Grey stood up and brushed back his coat. On his hip was a box the size of a small loaf of bread. He pulled a rod made of glass from the side of it. The rod was connected to the box with a curly wire. He pressed a button on the side of the box, and the rod lit up with bright white light. “We made these to see in the dark, and also to see inside dark machines,” he said. “I wear this at all times for emergencies.”

“How long does the light last?” Ivy asked.

“Not very long. Ten minutes at most,” he answered with a shrug.

“That’s so cool!” said Nikki. “How does it work?”

“I believe it’s my turn to ask the question,” said Grey.

“How come you let Ivy ask questions but not me?” Nikki pouted.

“Yes, I do believe it’s my turn,” he repeated. “What skills do you have? Nikki?”

“I’m a farmer. That should tell you most of what you need to know. I’m also the one who actually goes to town and sells our products, so I have good communication skills, I suppose.”

“Alright. And Ivy?”

“Um,” said Ivy. She racked her brains for anything that could be even slightly useful to the Lightbox Society. “I… know a lot about plants? I can make almost anything grow. I own my own shop…”

“That’s not a skill,” chided Nikki.

“Um.” She thought about Ghost sleeping at home. “Good with animals too. And I know some stuff about medicine. I like to paint? I’m fairly good at writing?”

“Hm,” said Grey. “We’ll make it work. What the Society needs more than anything is just willing people to add to our numbers. There are certain jobs in the workshop that any idiot could do.”

“Thanks a lot,” muttered Ivy. “Glad to hear how much I’m needed.”

“I mean! I didn’t mean it like that,” Grey backpedaled. “Of course you’re needed. We always need someone to make the pamphlets sound enticing.”

“They are a little cheesy,” admitted Ivy.