The Day the Shimm Stood Still

Andrew Jensen

R ick showed up just before school was out for the summer. He stood out right away. His red hair was down to his shoulders. I’d never seen anyone with hair that red before. For some reason, long hair on Rick didn’t make him look like a girl. His freckles were amazing: they almost covered his face. But it was his grin that I really liked. He grinned like he’d heard a joke and the rest of us just had to hear it too.

It was almost the end of the term, and the teachers had given up on class work. Rick’s first day was a “field day” and we were outside in the sun. The teachers had timers, and we had to stand around waiting until it was our turn to do an “event”. First we had to run and jump into a sand-box for the long-jump. I sucked at that: I fell backwards and they measured where my butt landed, not my feet. We all laughed at that, but I got the worst score, which was embarrassing. Then I hit the pole for the high-jump three times in a row. What’s the point of throwing yourself to the ground, even if they’ve put down padding? The ground is always hard. When I got to try the 100 meter dash, I pretended that someone was chasing me. I came in second.

We stood around between events. Normally we’d all be on our phones, playing games or listening to music, or sneaking notes around. That day the teachers made us leave our phones indoors. They said it was so we could enjoy the day. We were bored.

Rick cheered us up. He was full of information we’d never known before. Like how you could make yourself faint if you hold your breath hard and do 100 fast sit-ups. Two of us threw up trying that one. Best field day ever!

Field day was always boring. The same people won all the events. We were supposed to be learning about Earth Traditions. The events were supposed to be from the Limpic games. Why bother? We already play lots of digital games from Earth. Making us do all this jumping around is just mean.

We started calling them “Limpic” last year, because so many of us ended up limping. Like I said, the ground is always hard.

Rick said that his dad came from Earth, although Rick was born here, so that was okay. Rick’s dad told him about stuff called grass, that made the surface soft. I tried to imagine a whole planet that cushioned you when you fell. Stupid rich Earthers! All we have on New Normandy is rock. But they say it’s full of metal, and valuable, hence why we’re here.

When Rick ran out of stories we bragged about our scars. Rick had the best: he could take out his two front teeth. He showed us, and stood there, grinning like an idiot. He looked so happy. Then he popped them back in before any teachers noticed.

I wish I could be as happy as he looked.

I wanted Rick to like me, so I showed him the Train Bridge.

I live close to the river. None of us are supposed to play there. We do anyway, but we try to make sure our parents don’t find out. It’s important to come home dry.

There were always more Shimm near the river, but that wasn’t what I wanted to show Rick. Sure, they looked nice floating and shimmering over the water. But I had something a lot better.

My hiding place under the bridge.

We live on an island, so there are two bridges. One goes to the city, and I’ve crossed that one to go to an appointment. I live close to the other one. It crosses the river to the wilds, where the deep mines are.

Last summer, I learned to scramble up the rocks to the top of the concrete where the bridge leaves the island. It’s dark there between the huge support beams under the rails, the only light shines down in between the stone ties. One of the ties had split, and a chunk had fallen out in the middle. The hole was big enough to lift your head up through the space while an ore train was rattling over. An older kid told me he’d done it. I didn’t dare: I thought I would lose my head. Just being under there when the trains went over was terrifying. My Parent would never let me go there if they knew about it. So I figured it would impress Rick.

“My Dad said that on Earth, rail ties are made of wood,” he said when we had climbed up.

“Do you think that’s true?” I asked.

“Nah. No one has that much money. That’s just the kind of bragging Earth people do.”

I nodded. Everyone at school knew how Earth people bragged. The science teachers told us about Earth trees, and how one day we’d have them here, as soon as the soil had built up enough to stop using hydroponics. We’d all talked about it afterwards, and figured that it was impossible. It was like the stories adults used to read us about lions and pandas and dragons. Sure, you could grow one in a vat, but they’d be way too dangerous to let loose.

Rick looked around the hiding place and smiled approvingly. He poked the places where the hot silicone from the trains had splashed and dripped.

“That must burn,” he said. “Has it ever dripped on you?”

I nodded, and showed him an old scar on my arm. Rick looked impressed.

“So, when does the next train come through?” he asked.

“I don’t know.” Why did he have to embarrass me with a question like that?

“No problem, let’s check the schedule.” Rick pulled out his phone.

“Won’t work,” I muttered. “We’re surrounded by metal here. No signal. Besides, how can you get a schedule for ore trains?”

“I have some really good apps. I got them from my Dad. He doesn’t have a single decent password.”

Rick worked for a moment, and then held his phone up through the hole in the ties. Then he brought his hand back down.

“Looks like it’ll be about an hour,” he said.

“Wow! I never thought of reaching above the tracks.”

“It’s no big deal. Phone stuff is overrated. Useful, but boring.” I wondered about that. None of my other friends could live without their phones. He went on: “Look, you’ve got this really cool place. Why would you want to play a phone game here? Let’s go look at the Shimm.”

I was fine with that. The Shimm are hard to see in the daylight, but in the shadow under the bridge we could see lots. They were all different colors and sizes that day, floating around each other, almost like they were alive.

“You’ve got a lot of them here,” remarked Rick, as if the river were my private kingdom. I grinned.

“They seem to like the bridge, and the water,” I blurted out. Then I stopped, horrified. “I know they’re not alive,” I added. I didn’t want Rick to think I was some gullible little kid. “I know they checked for life before they Terraformed. They’re just an effect of all the metal in the rocks here.”

Rick shrugged, and started examining the pebbles by the water. “An effect. That just means no one knows what they are. I kind of like the idea that they’re alive. The big ones are the adults, that’s why they’re so slow. The little ones are the kids. But they’re all restless. Even the old slow ones never stop moving.”

“Then why haven’t they tried talking to us?” I asked. I could remember trying to talk to them when I was little, first using words, then a flashlight. Was Rick teasing me?

“Maybe they have nothing to say,” he answered. “Or maybe they’re like dogs or cats. Smart, but they don’t talk.” He had selected a couple of pebbles, and he looked up. “Watch this.”

For a long moment, Rick watched some of the smaller Shimm darting over the water. Then he took aim, and let fly a bulls-eye shot. The pebble hit the little yellow Shimm dead-center, and then moved with it, like it was stuck.

“See, they can play catch,” he said, grinning.

“There’s a lot of metal in that rock, that’s all,” I answered. Rick was making fun of me!

“Yeah, but watch this.” Rick threw the second pebble just as perfectly as the first. I was shocked when the first pebble shot away from the Shimm, right back to Rick!

I don’t know if the Shimm caught the second pebble. I just saw the returning pebble hit Rick in the head with a funny sound. Rick fell to the ground.

I cut my scalp once at school. It bled so much that some kids went home and told their folks that I’d died. I was famous for days.

Rick’s wound didn’t bleed much at all. He just lay there, silent. Was he dead? Did his red hair soak up all the blood from his scalp? Was he dead? Could they charge a Shimm with murder? Would they charge me with murder? Killing the coolest guy at school? It wasn’t my fault!

“Ow. That really hurt,” said Rick, sitting up. “Lucky he got me on the steel plate.”

“You have a steel plate in your head?” I gasped it out.

“Yeah. I was chasing a Shimm, and I didn’t notice it had gone past the edge of a cliff.” He looked down at his legs. “That’s when I knocked out my teeth. Broke a leg, too. I was laid up for the rest of the summer. I don’t ever want to be that bored again. That’s when I got good at phone games. Now even the new ones are boring.”

A whistle sounded from across the river. An ore train coming our way.

“Quick, let’s get up there!” said Rick. He scrambled up the rocks without stopping to cover his cut or anything. I could barely follow, he was so fast.

We both got more and more excited as the rumbling of the train grew nearer. Rick wanted to look out the hole to watch the train coming, but I stopped him. “If they see you, they’ll put on the brakes. Then they’ll fix the hole and block off the whole space!” He nodded, and crouched down until the train was right overhead.

It was louder than I remembered. It felt like an earthquake. We covered our ears, and it did no good at all. I could see Rick’s mouth moving as he shouted at me. I shouted back, “I can’t hear you!” I couldn’t hear me, either.

Rick looked up. There was a hungry look in his eye. Then he stood up, his mouth wide open, like he was screaming. His head disappeared up into the hole in the broken tie.

The rumbling went on forever. Rick’s hands waved wildly, and his feet jiggled and danced. Was he in pain, or just so happy he was freaking out? I uncovered my ears and started to reach to pull him down.

Before I grabbed him, it was over. The earthquake rumble was replaced with a clattering sound, getting quieter as the ore-train headed across the island. Rick slumped onto the concrete. His hair was more messed-up than usual, and spattered with hot silicone grease. There were a couple of dots on his face that were starting to blister. His head was covered in dust but the dirt was already streaked with sweat, and the small trickle of blood from his pebble wound.

He looked totally happy.

“That was amazing!” he shouted. “When’s the next train?”

“T hat was the last train,” Rick announced the next day. “I checked. Then Dad checked too.”

“You told your father about my hiding place?” No grown-up had ever seen that place. Rick had betrayed me!

“Weren’t you listening? It doesn’t matter. There aren’t going to be any more trains.”

“There’ve never been many,” I answered. “Most of the time it’s just a cool place. And now it’s not a secret anymore. I’m going to be grounded forever.”

Rick looked a little guilty, then. “My Dad doesn’t care. He won’t tell anyone.”

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yeah. Besides, they’re going to be tearing up the track soon.”

“What?”

“Yeah. They’re supposed to be replacing it with some Mag-Lev stuff. Dad says it’s ‘more appropriate for an up-and-coming planet’. He says ‘the old rails were fine for a pioneer place, but we should do better now’.”

I couldn’t believe it. “What are we gonna do?”

“He says the new trains will be quiet, and float in the air. He says that there’ll be a lot more passenger trains now, because it’s smoother. They’ll ride on magnetism, instead of rattling on rails, and they’ll go hundreds of kilometers an hour. They’ll be gone almost before they’re here.”

I was furious. “I wish they were already gone. I wish I’d never showed you that place. Then this wouldn’t be happening.”

“I didn’t do anything! Besides, you’re lucky. You’ve stuck your head up hundreds of times. For me, my first time is my last.”

I couldn’t argue without letting him know I was chicken. There was no way I would tell him I’d never dared put my own head up. I just stomped off to sit under the train bridge, alone. I stomped extra-hard so he’d know how mad I was.

A nother train did show up, but it was different. It wasn’t an ore train or a passenger train. This one had a big crane on the end, and a lot of flat cars. It went through our town and out across the river. We didn’t see it again for a couple of weeks. When it returned, it came slowly. Workers undid the bolts holding the rails to the ties, using welding torches sometimes. The lights of the welders on the bridge were like super-bright Shimm. Then the crane lifted the huge metal rails, and stacked them on the flat cars. Some rails were cut, and used to make side bars to hold the stack of rails higher and higher. When the train had passed, the rails were gone. The bridge was naked.

We took souvenirs. Lumps of cut-off rail that got left behind.

We argued about what to do with them. I took one piece that was small enough to carry but still looked like a piece of railroad. I put it on my dresser.

T o our surprise, the railway got busier and busier. They started drilling and blasting huge holes beside the level crossings. We were told that they were for tunnels to go under the new tracks. Super-fast Mag-Lev trains wouldn’t slow down for us, so no more level crossings. Big signs apologized for the inconvenience, and showed pictures of a beautiful, streamlined new train, flying along. I refused to admire the pictures.

Fences started going up. They were tall, with thick coils of razor wire at the top. They said this would prevent people from being killed. The fence would surround the entire railway line.

Most of the island would end up on the far side of the fences. The school was over there. The best stores were over there too. More importantly, Rick lived over there. He helped me scout out how we could get around the fences.

“No short-cuts anymore,” he said. “That sucks. You have to go kilometers to use one of the tunnels.”

I nodded glumly. This was looking worse and worse.

“What about that place under the bridge?” asked Rick. “Is that getting blocked off?”

“Good question!” I hadn’t been there in days. “Let’s go check.”

We rode our bikes to the edge of the river. The Shimm were thick there, drifting or darting about. We ignored them.

When we looked up at the bridge, it was clear that they were only starting to install that part of the fence. Posts were being welded to the huge support beams that ran across the river. The posts angled out and up past the ties to tower over the bridge. The bridge was being wrapped in a massive steel web. The beautiful new train would be caught in an ugly cage.

“Look,” said Rick. “The posts are welded on half way down the beams. We can still get underneath.”

“Yeah.” This looked good. “And with the water low right now, we can even get around the base to the other side by walking on the rocks. This can be our secret passage.”

“Yeah, and even when the water is higher, we can use a boat or canoe to go under!”

I thought about that. We had a small pedal-boat, but my Parent said not to use it near the bridge. The bridge was built where the river was shallow and fast, so there were rapids right across. The danger always made sense to me before, but if I said that to Rick I’d die of embarrassment.

“And in the winter we can walk on the ice,” I added, lamely.

R ick and I missed the Grand Opening of the new train station. It was impressive on the outside. It was made of stone and steel and glass, of course, but they’d made it look fancy too. Kind of fake old-fashioned. I hadn’t seen the one at the other end of the island yet, but Rick and I figured it would be the same.

We skipped the Grand Opening because it was happening at the same time as the first run of the high-speed train. It would stop at the station, and then cross the river for a short trip to show off its speed. The first two hundred people who got into the Grand Opening got a free ride.

That was tempting. Neither one of us had ever been on a fancy mag-lev train before. But it would be disloyal to the old trains and tracks to run straight off to this new, beautiful machine.

And as Rick pointed out, being underneath the train would be even more fun than being inside. Maybe, just maybe, it would be as exciting as the ore train.

So there we were, under the bridge. We’d packed a lunch and set out early, so no one would notice and stop us. It was different this time. There was the fence, of course. And there were more Shimm than usual. Most of them were directly under the bridge, with only a few at the water level. They were all moving faster, too. Even the big, slow ones looked super-charged as they zipped around.

There were even Shimm in my hiding place, just below the ties. I’d never seen that before. Even stranger, I noticed that Rick’s red hair had started to stand up, making his head look like a huge, solid Shimm, with a silly expression.

“This is so cool,” said Rick. “They must have the magnetic field turned on already. I bet that’s what’s attracting the Shimm.”

It was cool at first, but it became boring fast. Waiting is hard when you have to stay hidden. We finished our lunch by mid-morning, including most of the water we had brought. That created a new problem.

“Have you ever tried peeing from up here?” asked Rick, looking down to the river.

“A couple of times,” I answered. It had only been once, and I’d never told anyone about it before.

“Did you ever hit a Shimm?” he asked, grinning.

“Are you crazy? Those things are electric! They’d fry your wiener right off!”

“No they wouldn’t,” he answered, unzipping his pants. “I’ve touched them before, and all you get is a tingle.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “Remember that one that threw the rock back at you? I never knew they could do that until you showed me. What else can they do?” I admired Rick’s bravery, but sometimes he just seemed reckless. Who would dare risk that?

“Hmm,” he said. “Maybe you’re right.” So we peed into the river, taking great care to miss the Shimm. I was so embarrassed I almost couldn’t pee at all. But it was that or explode, so I managed.

R ick had brought a periscope. He and his dad made it once, and he dug it out for today. He carefully raised the top of it to look along the new tracks towards the station.

“Man, this is taking forever,” he complained. “Why don’t they stop all the speeches?”

Then he jerked his head back. “Hey, get out of there!” he shouted, and then sat down and started taking the periscope apart. When the bottom tube slid out of the top, a small Shimm darted out. “How did she get in there? I couldn’t see anything but orange!”

He put the periscope back together and handed it to me. “Here, you have a look. Tell me what they’re doing.”

I carefully slid the top of the periscope up over the stone tie. It wasn’t totally easy, since the magnetic field wanted to pull the metal up faster and higher, and we were afraid it might be seen. I managed to slide it up without being spotted, and reported: “They’re getting on the train.”

“Let me see!” Rick was really eager. He grabbed the periscope and shoved me aside. “Yes, yes, yes!” He crouched back down and passed me the periscope. “Put this away.”

“Don’t you want to watch the train coming?” I asked.

“No time,” Rick explained. “This is a high-speed train. That other one was old and slow. This one could be past us in a few seconds, even if it does need to build up speed. I’m going to wait just below the top, and when I see it’s close, I’ll stick my head up like last time. It’ll be great!”

“Don’t touch the rails,” I warned. We’d already talked about what could go wrong. Rick was sure that it would be safer than last time, which seemed to disappoint him. No hot silicone, he said. No wheels. Just a ride on a magnetic bed. It wouldn’t even be noisy.

Rick half-crouched, half-stood where he could peer up. He was whispering, “Come on, come on, come on.”

Then everything changed at once. It was quiet, but not silent. The air swished as the train approached. Rick stuck his head up, catching his shoulders on the edges of the stone tie. Everything seemed to crackle, and the periscope flew upwards, hitting my arm. My brain was buzzing.

And I noticed something strange: the Shimm were standing still. That had never happened before. Each one was frozen, hanging in the air.

Then Rick started to scream.

It was the worst sound I’ve ever heard. It was so awful I didn’t even freeze: I just grabbed Rick around the waist and tried to pull him down, but I couldn’t. It must have been a short time, but it felt like forever. I wondered if he’d still have a head when I finally managed to pull him down. Then I realized he had to have a head, ’cause he was still screaming. I started to giggle. Then I was crying and giggling at the same time. And Rick was still screaming. And kicking. And flailing his arms.

And then the train was gone and Rick fell down on top of me unconscious. I knew he wasn’t dead, because he was twitching. The top of his head was all bloody. A part of his scalp had peeled back, and a piece of metal showed through. When his head tipped sideways and blood ran out, I could even see a bit of brain! I couldn’t move.

I watched as a few of the Shimm, free from whatever had held them, drifted towards Rick. Towards his wound. Or maybe the metal plate, I don’t know. But when they touched him, they vanished.

They vanished into Rick’s brain.

I’d never seen Shimm disappear before. Drift away, dart, fly, yes. But never just vanish.

It was enough to spur me to action.

I grabbed my phone and pushed the emergency button. It didn’t work. I stood over Nick and held it out the hole. It still didn’t work. Too much magnetism or electricity or something. I scrambled down from the bridge as fast as I could and ran. When I got a signal, I called and told them everything. I knew I was giving up the secret of that special place forever. The only place I’d ever felt brave.

R ick wasn’t there when school started. He was in the hospital in the city. I got to see him twice in there.

The first time was scary. He just lay there. They said he was in an induced coma so his brain would stop swelling. He looked like a cartoon alien, with his head so bandaged that it was twice as big as normal.

There were lots of ways to hurt yourself on New Normandy. I knew a couple of kids with brain injuries from accidents. They weren’t the same as before. Would the Rick that woke up be the Rick that I knew?

Would Rick wake up ever?

I didn’t want to lose my best friend. He was the bravest guy I knew. My Parent didn’t understand. They called him reckless. They shouted that Rick was an idiot, and I couldn’t play with him ever again.

But the place we used to play was off limits now.

And everything had changed as well.

T he second time I saw Rick he was awake. Even better, he was still Rick. Except for his hair. They’d shaved it right off. All he had now was red fuzz.

“Look,” he said. He popped out his two front teeth. Then he popped out the bottom pair. Somehow, in the middle of everything else, he’d managed to break another pair of teeth. When he grinned it looked like a tunnel going into his face.

“They put a new plate in my skull,” he said, proudly, once his teeth were back in. “No metal this time. It was really expensive.”

“Did they find any Shimm?” I asked. I was only half-joking.

“What are you talking about?”

I told him about the Shimm that had disappeared into his head. I’d seen three. Who knew how many more had gone in while I was getting help?

“That explains it!” he almost shouted. Then he switched to a whisper: “I’ve been seeing colors and patterns. They’re really cool. I’m sure they mean something, but I don’t know what. The doctors are bugged by it, and make me take tests. I bet the Shimm are trying to communicate with me. I’ll be the first person to ever talk to them! I can’t wait to get out so we can find some and try.”

“All the Shimm have left the island,” I had to report. “A couple of days after the trains started up, they were all gone.”

“What? Where did they go?”

“I don’t know. Maybe they’re still out in the wilderness, but you don’t see any on the island.”

Rick sat quietly. He looked angry. “Damned trains,” he finally said.

“They’ve sealed off our space under the bridge, too.” I tried not to sound reproachful.

“Damned trains.”

R ick never came back to school.

He got out of the hospital a couple of weeks after my second visit, but he didn’t come to see me. I finally went to his house. No one answered the door. I peered in a window: even the furniture was gone.

I tried to send Rick messages, but his account was blocked. Some of my friends said Rick was crazy, and the grown-ups had locked him in a padded room. Then they made jokes.

I felt like my life had ended.

T he end of the summer was boring. I spent a lot of time in the pedal-boat, exploring the tiny rocky islands far from the bridge. I guess I was trying to find another private place. But if I did, who could I share it with?

I started playing phone games again when school started. They had just released a new multiplayer, and it was pretty fun.

Then I noticed that one player kept winning. Their speed was amazing, and they seemed to have some kind of instinct for catching every break. This player’s game-name was Shimmerick1000, and their avatar was a fuzzy red troll.

It was a week before I worked up the courage to send a private game message: “That U Rick?”

Within seconds I had a reply: “Yep. Wondered when U would figure me out & reveal yourself, Bridgeboy.” So smug! Jerk!

I couldn’t stop smiling.

T urns out Rick’s dad was only cool some of the time. Whenever they moved, he cut off all ties from the place they were leaving. They had lived near us for less than a year, and Rick said they moved every time something went seriously wrong.

That happened about once a year, and Rick always seemed to be in the middle of it.

We put our heads together, and managed to convince Rick’s dad that no one here wanted to sue him. The only person hurt had been Rick. We even managed to convince my Parent that Rick wasn’t going to get me killed.

When the snow finally melted we had it all set up: Rick was going to visit in the summer.

“I still don’t like the train,” Rick grumbled as he got off. “It never feels right.”

Rick was taller. His hair had grown back, which was familiar, but he was wearing wire-rim glasses now. It make him look more grown up. We started to walk to my house. I carried Rick’s backpack.

“How were the doctors?” Rick had been to the city to have his head examined.

Rick shrugged. “They’re smart, but they make bad assumptions. They’ll never understand.”

I nodded. My only sympathy for the doctors was that they were a good excuse for Rick to be here. Too bad he could only stay for the day. His dad insisted he be on the train by nightfall.

We dumped his stuff at my house and I led him down to the pedal-boat.

“What’s all this stuff sticking out of the water?” Rick asked at the shore.

“Grass! It’s real! They came through last fall and planted it. It’s supposed to spread and start growing up onto the sand.”

Rick poked at the stiff green stalks. “I still wouldn’t want to fall on it,” he muttered. “Is this what you wanted to show me?”

“Of course not,” I said. “Hop in the boat.”

As we paddled, Rick talked about his new town. I already knew it was way out in the boonies, and there were no Shimm anywhere. “I thought we were going to have to move again, but I talked Dad out of it. I’m sick of moving.”

This was news. “What happened?”

“I made friends with this kid, and then his brother started to bully me.”

Another friend? My face felt hot and there was a roaring in my ears. I hadn’t made any new friends! How could Rick?

“Anyway, his brother made me show him an experiment I got off my dad’s phone, and he ended up getting hurt. Now I don’t have any friends there. But I’m still sick of moving.”

“You could move back here,” I suggested.

“Ha!” That hurt. “Dad would never go back to a place we’ve left. How could I convince him?”

“Let me show you,” I answered.

We had come to one of the many small rocky islands in the river. This one was bigger than most: big enough that it had a cave. And in the cave…

“Shimm!” Rick’s mouth hung open. The colored lights zipped around in their sheltered place. “They aren’t all gone!”

He sat on a rock a couple of meters into the cave. It looked to me like the Shimm clustered around his head. Smaller ones were moving around the rims of his glasses, looking like a cheesy game display.

Rick was grinning. I hadn’t seen that grin in over a year. He didn’t look grown up anymore. He just looked happy.

I couldn’t be jealous of the Shimm. They connected with Rick in a special way, but I could live with that. He might not move back here for me, but I bet he would for the Shimm.

Rick’s old house was still empty, I’d checked. Part of me felt impatient: we only had a few hours together to plot ways to persuade Rick’s dad. Face to face conversations can’t be monitored like game chat.

I promised myself I’d wait until we got back in the boat. For that moment it was enough to watch Rick’s silly grin. He’d been away from his beloved Shimm for too long.

I wondered which one of us was the happiest.

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