The Strange Tale Of Ayla Jae

Chapter Fourteen - The Makeshift Clubhouse

"I call it The Makeshift Clubhouse."

Daren's voice echoes down the vinyl floor hallway leading up to what appears to be a dead end. We're inside of what he claims to be his grandparents old house. It's been empty for a year, supposedly, and his home away from home is some where in here. I see nothing but a blank white wall.

"My parents haven't gotten around to selling this place or so they tell me. For them, it's been empty for four years, so I decided to occupy it." He laughs to himself quietly. We get pretty close to the end of the hall, and I stop as Daren stops. I don't know if I can exactly trust him, but at this point, I don't see any reason to not wait and see. He's been good so far.

"Alright, Frodo--."

"Hey." I say, almost as if it's a knee jerk reaction. I guess some where in me realizes that's reserved for special people.

"Sorry. Ayla. Couldn't resist giving it a try. Well, Ayla, we're here."

"Daren. It's a wall. At the end of the hallway. Look, it took us a half an hour of walking to get here. Please don't tell me I'm about to be...kidnapped or something." I'm trying my hand at a dumb joke, but there's a small part of me that isn't really kidding. "I'm not above disappearing to avoid disappearing against my will."

"Calm down, Ayla. Trust me. If you want a spot to figure things out, this is the place. Snack on a piece of chicken and give me a sec. Okay?"

I dive my hand into the oversized go bag and grab the best piece I can find. Daren runs his hand slowly over a slightly discolored section of the wall.

"Ah. Ha! There we go." His fingers push in tiny credit card sized part of the drywall in, forcing a click. He pulls his hand back, causing a door sized portion of to slide open.

"Are freaking kidding me?" The words come out so quickly. "Why does your grandparent's old place have an actual hidden door, and hidden room I presume?"

"Don't drop your chicken, dude. Come on, it's just through here."

I hesitate enough that Daren notices. He smirks and waves for me to follow him in after he turns around and steps inside first. As we go in, it's actually not too impressive. If stories have taught me anything, there should computers, gadgets, and screens literally everywhere. Every secret hideout needs them. Here, Daren just has a small TV, couple of hopefully smushy chairs, and some snacks. Actually, this is better.

"Sorry, I don't have much. I do have a fresh pack of the best corn chips the local shop has. Store brand cheese chips. They rock." Daren says as he swipes the bag up and peels it open.

"You want some?"

"Umm, yeah. Sure."

As I grab a few out and munch, I realize he wasn't kidding. I've got to find this shop at some point. I finish up my mouthful, so I can ask questions.

"You didn't actually answer my question though, Daren. Why is this here? I mean, were they spies? Are you a spy?"

He musters a cheesy laugh. "No, they were not. Florists, I think. As far as I can tell, it was here long before they got here."

"Well, Secret Agent Hopelmen." I sound a little childish, but I'm okay with it. After the tense night I've endured, this moment of weird intrigue is calming, fun even. "I'm glad you brought me here."

I walk over to a dark brown chair that looks the coziest and plop down. It's even better than I thought it would be. "I needed this." I tell him.

He sets the bag down and shuffles down into the roughed up black chair to my left. He lets out a genuine groan of relief.