Arcade Monsters

Sebastian's parents decided at the end of a three-hour dinner that they should renew their vows. They were in Vegas, after all, and it would be fun to have their own son serve as the ring bearer. Sebastian was darkening in a wizard on his children's placemat when they told him the plan, and after they finished their vodkas they were walking down the strip to the nearest chapel.

The chapel they found was small and triangular. A woman played the organ as Sebastian's mother walked down the aisle with a crooked smile, which was nice. Sebastian had her ring and his father's in his hands. They were wet now, his hands and the rings. The air conditioning wasn't working.

A tall man presided over the couple. He was white and had the seedlings of a beard poking through his chin. Sebastian's father was a man and his mother was a wife, and they kissed for a long time. The organ woman struck a chord, then swiped their credit card, and the renewed family was back on the smoggy sidewalk.

At the hotel Sebastian's mother sat on the edge of the bed, leaning back on her hands and supported by her bare arms. His father gave him two rolls of quarters. "This is for being a good ringboy," he said, and patted Sebastian on the shoulder. "Go play in the arcade. Try to beat all of the games, if you can." His father's breath burnt his nose, but Sebastian didn't care. He was happy to see his father happy, and he had quarters now. There was so much he could do with a roll of quarters, and now he had two. It was like having a chest of gold coins. He hugged his father and kissed his mother, and then his parents kissed each other, and that's how he left them.

*******

The hotel arcade wasn't the biggest he'd been to, not even close. It had about ten games, five lining each side wall, and an air hockey table guarding the wall opposite the entrance. No one was playing; all the other kids were probably asleep. Sebastian felt like an adult for being up so late. He walked around the room, reading the titles and watching the game demos. In front of Wrestlefest he kicked away a milk crate, the kind of thing he needed a year ago, and started playing, standing on his own two feet.

The Million Dollar Man was jawing away when he heard soft footsteps behind him on the thin carpet. He could see a silhouette in the screen, small at first and walking across the room, then bigger and stationary. He heard a man's voice from behind him: "Hey, you're pretty good." He was pretty good; Sebastian knew it. He was the fastest tapper he knew. His fingers were like lightning. He liked to call himself Merlin in his head.

"You like Mr. Perfect, huh?" the man said. Sebastian nodded and kept his eyes on the screen. "Do you know how to do the Perfect-plex?" Sebastian nodded again, but the man reached over him and took his hands. "Here, let me show you." The man's hands were big and white, and there was hair all over them, even on the knuckles. They were warmer than Sebastian's, like they'd been holding a mug of hot coffee, but they hit the buttons clumsily, and Mr. Perfect was pinned for a three-count.

"No!" Sebastian cried. He ducked beneath the arms around him and looked for another game.

"You could always add more quarters for energy. Hulk says so." Sebastian ignored him. "Have you played The Simpsons game?" the man asked Sebastian's back. Sebastian nodded. "I wish I could play it. But I ran out of money. Could I borrow a quarter?" Sebastian took a quarter out of his pocket and softly tossed it at the man's stomach. "Thanks, kid. You're a really nice boy. Most people aren't very nice to strangers."

There was a game called Ghosts 'n Goblins which Sebastian had never played. He put his quarter in, and he controlled a man in armor. He threw a lance at zombies and other colorful monsters. Sebastian wished his character had magic powers, because that's the only way to really kill monsters.

Sebastian died, as everyone does. He walked around and came to a basketball game in the corner. It was the kind with an actual hoop and actual balls, and the game counted how many shots you made. He couldn't reach the balls, though, so he walked past it, looking for the spurned crate.

"Did you want to play that?" the man said. He walked over next to Sebastian. "A big boy like you doesn't need a crate. I can lift you up if you want to play." Sebastian squeezed a quarter in his sweaty palm. He nodded and stood in front of the game. The man put his hands in Sebastian's armpits and lifted him until he was standing on top of the machine. There was a gate ahead of him, which locked the balls up until he put his money in. Then they would roll to his feet.

"Here, I'll use the quarter you gave me." The man started the game. There were digital notes playing "Charge!", and Sebastian got excited.

"I'm really good," Sebastian said. "I'm gonna be the next Michael Jordan."

"I bet you are, kid. Now shoot some hoops."

Sebastian bent over to grab a ball. It was huge in his hands, not like his child-size one at home. He chucked it at the hoop, brushing the bottom of the net. The man was holding him at the waist so he wouldn't fall, and he shot some more, getting closer every time. He must have been moving a lot, because the man held onto him by the waist of his sweatpants. "Don't want you to hurt yourself," the man said. Sebastian shot rapid-fire, then took his time. He threw a ball up with all his strength, and it felt like he was watching in slow-motion as it bounced off the rim and through the hoop. Sebastian pumped his fist in the air, and the man yelled "Yeah! All right!", and then Sebastian felt funny, like he was getting his temperature taken. He felt an evil presence in the room. He put his hands down and spoke in a low voice, chanting a spell he had written to kill monsters, and then the man stepped back, and the feeling went away. Sebastian jumped down on his own and walked out of the arcade.

"Where are you going? You didn't finish the game."

Sebastian cast a spell on the arcade entrance, and then on every third tile he stepped on. When the tiles became carpet, he enchanted the green boxes, but left the red ones alone. He took the elevator up to his family's room, and put a curse on the floor buttons. The curse was only meant for evil fingers, so he didn't feel bad. The door was locked when he go to the room, and he could hear his dad snoring when he put his ear against the hallway wall. He knocked and no one let him in. He was tired, though, so he sat with his back against the green door, took off his sneakers and put one on each side of him, because he had a spell that would create a forcefield between them, and he knew he would be protected.