Minecraft: a Novel

Chapter 2

  Well, sue me. I still won't regret the fact that I picked up the strange stick and began home with it.

  Walking inside my house, I sneaked back into my room and put the stick on my desk to examine it.

  What happened next was strange: The second I put it down, it glowed brighter. Okay, I could live with that. Then I reached to touch it. I instantly wished I hadn't. It burnt my hand as if I'd stuck it in a furnace. Another nanosecond and I would've caught fire.

How come I had no trouble getting it there? What was the deal?

  I was forced to dismiss my thoughts when I heard the front door open.

  I ran to greet whoever it was. The door swung to reveal my father.

  He sent me a sad wave. He had horrible scars and bruises all over his face that made him hard to recognize.

  "What happened to you?" I asked him.

  "Oh, nothing, I just had a hard day at work. They had to send me home early," he replied.

  I was tempted to tell him about the discovery of the stick, but something held me back. It was like someone desperately telling me, "Don't do it!"

  "No, really?" I asked. "What happened?"

  "I just kind of had a little fall, that's it," he said, sounding irritated. "Where are your mom and sister?"

  "No idea, I just woke up," I told him, still annoyed he wouldn't talk to me about what went down at work.

  "You woke up at noon?" Said my dad, raising an eyebrow.

  "I just had a hard night," I admitted.

  "Are you okay?" My father asked with a genuine concern.

  I wasn't really up for telling him that I had basically almost died last night. Not to mention the fact that I'd run away like a little girl.

  "I just couldn't fall asleep," I lied.

  With an understanding look (which made me feel guilty), my father changed the subject. "Gregor, would you like to go mining with me tomorrow? A miner can always use an extra pair of hands."

  "Really? Isn't that dangerous?" I asked, although my gut twisted in knots and I found myself wanting to squeal with excitement.

  With a grin, my father glanced around, like he was being watched. His grin faltered, but he managed to say, "It's only dangerous if you want it to be."

  And at first I thought he was talking about mining, but then I realized he was talking about life.

...

  The next day, we set out early in the morning. I didn't have much in my inventory besides food and some various blocks from Blocks-R-Us. We didn't even stop for breakfast as we swiftly left the house and headed to the mining center.

  As we walked through town, people nodded to my father like he was someone big and important. This wasn't new; it happened every time we went out.

  We made our way to a massive building made of stone brick. It had neat little potted plants lining the perimeter, which made it hard to believe that it lead to a chain of dusty mineshafts.

  We entered and my dad lead me to a desk with a dark skinned man sitting behind it.

  "Major Jeff reporting," said my father in an official tone. I wondered what I was supposed to say. Fortunately that turned out to be nothing.

  The man behind the desk looked up from his paper. He silently opened a large binder and scribbled something in it. "And who do you have here?" He asked in a cool accent.

  "A minor," my dad replied. It took me a second to realize they were talking about me.

  "I see," the man said, not sounding surprised. He nodded and looked down in his binder. "You will be in Mine C Section 4 Briefing."

  "Thank you." My dad smiled. He escorted me down a long maze of corridors. It took me only a few moments to smell the scent of a cave.

  Turning left, we entered a small room with pickaxes lined upon the walls and a few chests labelled "Torches" and "Gear." My dad took an iron pickaxe for himself and gave me a stone one. I placed it into the hot bar around my waist so it swung at my side. Then he gave us each a wooden sword.

  "Listen," said my father. "There are some rules you have to follow."