Editor’s Note: This is the second chapter of an original piece of creative writing from Shanna Densley. To read the first chapter, please click the following link:
https://whsjohnnygreen.org/arts-and-entertainment/2025/03/11/the-midnight-syndicate-part-one/
Twenty Years Ago
“I’ve been thinking,” Chester started, pausing, probably to really think through his words.
Oliver raised a brow. “About?” He asked impatiently, looking at the papers that the younger boy hid against his chest.
“Well… a secret society! Like the Cult of Dionysus!” A giggle pushed past Chester’s lips.
Oliver cringed. Chester had no clue what he was talking about, huh? “You’ve been listening to too much of your mom’s podcasts,” Oliver sighed to himself, “so trust me, you do not want that.”
Chester’s face showed slight embarrassment. “It doesn’t have to be exact if it’s that bad.”
Oliver smirked slyly at the other boy. “You just want to make code names and meetings to make your dad jealous.”
Chester turned more red, which only confirmed Oliver’s conclusion, though he didn’t say anything to Oliver so as not to give the nine-year-old verbal confirmation. Not that Oliver needed it now, but Chester was slowly retreating behind the papers, trying to hide his burning face.
“I’m in.” Oliver shrugged confidently.
Chester was slightly shocked but knew Oliver would’ve caved eventually, no matter what he said. “You- You are?”
“Yep.”
“That… wasn’t what I was going to ask.” Chester was fully red now, looking down as he put the papers back to his chest.
“You… You weren’t?” Oliver felt a tad hurt now. Jealous maybe? Definitely betrayed, though.
Now
The shrink’s pen scratched the notepad, ink sticking to the page.
There was a good moment of silence before the shrink asked about the story and the memories so far.
“He didn’t want you to join?” The shrink asked finally.
“He did,” Oliver corrected, “but he was going to ask me to make it with him. Co-found.”
“Feel free to interrupt, but was this clandestine already a thing? Or am I mistaken?”
“It wasn’t.” Oliver paused with an inhale.
“No?”
“No.” He swallowed thickly. “He toyed with the idea by himself first, then brought it to me.”
“Why you?” The pen moved against the paper again.
“I-I don’t know… Maybe because I was the oldest? I was a nerd? I lived closer?” Oliver only had possible reasons, but even the young Chester never told him why. Why him?
“I see.”
“He always giggled then walked away when I asked, then ignored me until I changed the topic to something less… less of why he picked me.”
“And how did that make you feel?”
Oliver opened his mouth but said nothing.
The shrink wrote something else.
Twenty Years Ago
Oliver sat in the bean bag chair, still in the treehouse with Chester.
“So… Can I see the papers now?” Oliver asked, looking up at Chester, who currently stood in front of him. He hadn’t said a word since accidentally hurting Oliver’s feelings.
“I want you to help me start the secret society!” Chester blurted, unable to deal with the guilt of making Oliver so sad, hearing Oliver’s more dead and monotone voice only making him feel terrible.
Oliver, surprised, blinked before tersely getting to his feet, making Chester take a small step back.
“You- You do?”
Chester nodded.
“Why didn’t you start with that?”
Chester now looked ready to cry, an emotional kid he was, though Oliver realized his shock rubbed off wrong and quickly toned down. He opened his arms to offer Chester a warm embrace.
“Of course I’ll help you, Chester,” Oliver promised, Chester putting the papers down on a low shelf before walking into his arms, savoring the hug.
“I’m glad you aren’t actually upset.” Chester muffled into Oliver’s shirt.
“And I’m glad you aren’t leaving me out of your ‘secret society’ or whatever.” Oliver teased.
Chested let out a small giggle, “I’d never.”
