Interlude 2: Part 3

                The following is the third and final part of a short story that I wrote as an assignment for my Honors class at school. It's a rough edit, and not the greatest of stories, but I very much enjoyed writing it, and I wanted a chance to share it with people. It's a lengthy read, and I'm posting it in three parts, all of which are probably twice as long as a regular blog post. But, if you're bored, or need a good distraction, I offer this to you:

When he opened his eyes again, he found himself lying on a cold concrete floor. He looked around for a moment, examining his surrounds. He was in a large, roomy space, flanked by 3 white walls and a large door on a track that lifted it up into parallel with the ceiling. There were boxes everywhere, labeled with the words “Christmas decorations,” and “keepsakes.” Off to one side of the room was a large work bench, with various tools and automobile parts laid out on top of it, which were assumedly once part of the large blue-striped 1978 Chevrolet truck that was resting in the middle of the room. The hood was open, to reveal the engine, which looked to be all together much newer than the body of the truck it sat in. Evan recognized this place as well. It was Matt’s garage, messy as ever. He used it much more like a workshop than a storage space, though to hear Matt’s mother tell it, the garage’s true purpose was to act as a shrine to the old truck.

As Evan looked into the hood of the truck, her heard the garage door’s electric motor come on, and watched as the room was bathed in the glow of the automatic light that kicked on as the door rose. He peered around the hood of the truck to see Matt making his way into the garage. He watched as his friend dropped his bag next to the work bench, and then walked his way around the vehicle, running his hands along the lines of the body.

“You’re looking good, old girl.” Matt said aloud, taking the time to use the sleeve of his sweatshirt to buff one of the taillights. “You ready for your first performance?” Evan watched as Matt’s face again broke into his wide grin, and then saw his friend make his way back around the truck, grab his backpack, and head out of the garage door and over into the house. Evan watched him go, and then turned his attention back to the garage, noticing his blue-robed companion standing atop the work bench, casually leaning against the wall it sat against.

“Why are we here?” Evan asked of his companion in a somber tone. “It’s not like I ruined Matt’s day, too. His truck is fixed, and besides, I never even showed up. What does this matter to me?” As before, Dziga didn’t respond, but instead, waved his crooked stick out in front of him, spinning it in a clockwise circle. Evan watched as the hands of the clock on the wall began to spin faster and faster, and soon, nearly a half an hour had gone by, where for Evan, it had been only a minute or so. Then, Z stopped spinning his stick, and went back to casually leaning against the wall. Evan was about to question him, when he heard the sound of a door opening and closing, followed by the chatter of two voices.

In a moment, the figure of Matt and his father came around the side of the garage, and entered through the massive open door.

“So yeah, I guess he just caught up with his girl.” Evan heard his friend say, as Matt stepped toward the work bench, and reached for the key to the truck, hanging on the garage wall. “But that doesn’t matter, I’ll show him some other time! Come on pop, you’ll be so impressed, she purrs like a damn cougar!” Evan watched as Matt hoped into the driver’s side of the truck, closing the door so that his father could move past.

Matt’s father was a large man, with a bald head and a grey goatee and mustache, which he apparently only rarely trimmed. He had a large beer gut, which hung over the top of his old, ratty blue jeans, and was poorly contained by the dirty, stained wife beater he now wore. As the man came around the top of the truck, Evan saw he was holding an open can of beer in his hand, which he lazily slurped as he found a place at the back of the garage where he could lean against the wall.

“You ready, pop?” Matt called from the driver’s seat. Matt’s father gave what sounded like a disbelieving chuckle, and then lifted his beer in Matt’s direction. Evan took a step back from the truck, and watched as Matt inserted the key into the ignition, and gave it a twist. The engine of the truck roared to life in an instant, sounding like the triumphant thunder of an army returning home from a battle, victorious in their conquest. After the initial ignition, the engine sound leveled at a medium and contended hum, sounding not unlike the purr of a large cat.

Evan saw Matt’s eyes light up in joy, and looked back to see his friend’s father, a look of surprise and disbelief on his old and scruffy face. However, this look did not last. In a moment, the engine began to choke, and sputter, and, as quickly as it had come to life, its roar died out. Evan looked back at his friend to find a look of surprise, which was quickly replaced by one of panic. After 2 or three failed attempt to coax the engine back to life, Matt leapt from his place in the driver’s seat, and moved to the front of the truck, practically burying his head in the engine, like a frightened ostrich buries its head in the sand.

“It was fine this morning! It worked, I swear it did!” Matt protested, as if to convince the engine itself that it should still be purring like a cat. To no avail however, and as Matt frantically poured over the engine, trying to discover the source of the problem, Evan looked over to see he friends father, doubled over with howling laughter. After a moment, the gruff old man settled himself, and walked up behind his son. He put his large, dry-skinned hand onto matt’s shoulder, and spoke.

“You almost had me there, boy. Listen, I know you’ve put a lot of work into this old piece of junk, but I’m fer thinkin it’s time ya found yerself a new hobby. Maybe you take some time, go find yourself a woman to be concerned with, like yer buddy, there, and you won’t spend so much time worryin’ about this old heap.” Matt’s dad gave him a rough pat on the shoulder, then made his way out of the garage, chuckling to himself.

Matt and Evan both watched him go, and then Matt placed both his hands on the front end of the truck, and hung his head. Evan could hear his friend trying to choke back tears of frustration. Matt had spent his whole life trying to impress his father, and earn his respect. His dad had been in the war, and spent a lot of time when Evan and Matt were younger talking about the bright military career he expected of his son. When Matt had grown older, and had started to turn away from the idea of becoming military man, his father started to look down on him. For Matt, this truck was the only way he figured he’d ever get an ounce of respect out of the old man. Evan didn’t know how many times he’d heard his friend say, “If I can just get the old girl runnin’ again, then he’ll have to respect what I can do. He’ll lighten up on me, hell even enough that mom and I can convince that I should go to school to be a mechanic!”

Eventually, Matt stood up and away from the truck. He was still for a moment, arms at his sides, his hands curled into angry fists. Then, with a roar of anger and defiance, he gave the truck a swift kick in its front bumper. His face contorted for a moment, in regret, then disappointment, but finally landed on a look of shameful acceptance. He then shuffled his way around the side of the truck, and made his way out of the garage, not bother to close the door behind him. Evan heard his friend open the front door to his house, and close it behind him.

Evan turned back towards the truck, and looked into the engine. He wondered why the engine had started running so well, only to die a moment later. After a few seconds of examining, Evan noticed something amiss in the engine. One of the old trucks’ spark plugs had come lose. Evan remembered Matt had said something about how cars and trucks from that time all used the same standard spark plugs, but that their fittings could sometimes be slightly off. It was usually an easy fix, but it also didn’t happen very often. Matt had said that he had looked over the truck once, and didn’t think it was going to be problem. Apparently, in his panic, Matt hadn’t thought to look for it. But Evan had noticed it. In fact, if Evan had been there, in the moment, he might have noticed it then, too. It was the only thing he really knew about the truck, so he might well have thought to look at it, even though Matt did.

“Something wrong?” Again, Dziga’s voice cut through the quiet. This time, Evan had definitely forgotten that he was there. He looked up from the engine, and started at the inside of the hood of the truck, wish that, by some magic, there would be a guide for him to understand all the things that he had seen.

“Everything’s wrong. “ Evan said after a moment. “If I had been here, I could have helped Matt. I could have seen what he didn’t. Damnit Z, this truck is everything to him. And I was a jerk to Sarah, and A jerk to my Mom, and to Emma.“ His voice grew in volume and tension as he spoke. Suddenly, he felt himself lash out, swinging a fist at the hood of the truck. Instead of colliding, however, he watched as he hand passed on threw, and then as drew it back again, trying a second time. 

“Upset?” Asked Z, maintaining his usual tone, sounding just like Santa.

“ARGGH!” Evan screamed in frustration. How could that damned little imp be so calm? All Evan could think about was how much a jerk he was, how stupid and self-centered he’d been, how unwilling he was to slow down and see life, to realize his perspective wasn’t the only one. He felt his feet carry him out of the garage, and down his friend’s driveway, to the sidewalk, and to the middle of the street, where he dropped to his knees, and doubled over. He felt that feeling again, that knot in the pit of his stomach that reminded him of what an idiot he was, and, after letting out another scream of frustration, let himself start to cry. Bitter, regretful tears, that came from somewhere in Evan’s heart and mind that he had never accessed before. He felt alone, and stupid, like he was the worst person in the world. He heard his own voice in his head, wishing a car would come along and end his misery. As he blinked back the bitter tears, he turned his head to one side, and saw the front of an oncoming car approaching, headlights bathing him in a spotlight he never wished for. He closed his eyes again, and turned his head back, taking in what he expected to be his last breath, and holding it.

After holding his breath for nearly 10 seconds, he had to let it out, and, chocking on the sudden burst of air, opened his eyes, and looked for the car he had hoped would hit him. Instead of finding himself on the road, however, he found that his surroundings were devoid of color, or light. Everything was not but empty blackness, as far as he could see in every direction. He lifted his head, and sat back on his legs. As far as he could tell, he was nowhere. There was no Matt’s house, no road, no school, no Dziga, no nothing. Just… black. Evan tried his best to calm himself, and stood himself up, brushing off the front of his pants. He looked around again, and off in one direction, he though he saw a faint green glow. He made his was towards it, and in a moment, came across a familiar ball of green light. When he got close enough, he watched, as it formed itself into a frame, within which, he saw an image of his mother, sitting on the couch, as she had been before. This time, he could hear her voice, though. It sounded like she was talking to herself.

“I’m doing everything I can, you know. I’ve been doing my best. And your kids have grown into such beautiful children. Evan’s a senior now. He’ll be going off to college soon. I’m not sure where I’m gonna find the money, but we’ll make it work. I guess I could ask my parents for help, but you know how they are. They’ll be in town tomorrow. I’ve gotta get the house cleaned. I’d hate for them to think I didn’t have everything under control…” The image faded out, and the ball of light reformed into a ball.

As Evan looked away, he noticed another ball, a few steps away. He moved over to it, and as he approached, it opened. Within was an image of his sister, seated at their table, working on her book report. Evan could just see her beginning to write a sentence at the end of her paper “And so, Mr. Scrooge had learned his lesson.” Evan laughed to himself.

“Yeah, squirt, something like that.” Evan moved away from the image, and watched as the light reformed into a circle. As it did, Evan noticed that, behind it, there were a number of other little balls of green light, just floating there in the air. He looked over his shoulder, seeing a number more, and then looked back, to see more had joined the first. The longer Evan looked, the more balls of light there were, just floating and dashing about. As they flew near him, they turned into frames, showing Evan a myriad of images. There was one of a mother and father, holding their newborn baby. Another that danced by showed a middle aged woman, holding the hand of an old man hooked up to a number of medical machines. As the picture passed, Evan heard the sound of the EKG machine tone out a week heartbeat, and then, after a moment, signal that the heartbeat had stopped. There were children playing, and people dancing, people starving, and people fighting. He saw images of kids in school, of prisoners in their cell, or doctors and patients in a hospital, and of people in offices, going about their day.

“What is this place?” Evan wondered aloud.

“It’s not a where, really.” Evan heard Dziga say, and looked down at his side to see the little imp standing next to him, staring up at the green glowing balls. “It’s a what. It’s perspective. Everyone’s perspective.” Evan looked back up into the air, and saw that there were now hundreds of thousands, or even millions of little balls of light. He could see them above him and below him, and off in every direction. It was as though someone had colored every star in the night sky a pale green, and placed him and Dziga in the middle of it.

“Everything that could have been or might ever been seen is here.” Z continued. “When you go through life, you only see a tiny fraction of them, a minor collection of perspectives that you can call your own. But the truth of the world is so much larger than that. In every moment, there are a thousand smaller moments that you can pass over. For every second that passes for you, the same second must pass for 7 billion other people in their lives. And even then, think about all the places where people aren’t at any given time. What might you see if you could look there?”

“I’m so… small.” Said Evan. He heard his imp friend chuckle, before he replied.

“Well, yes and no. Your life is important, especially to you and those around you. It’s just that, so is everyone else’s. Your perspective is a valid one. But it’s not the only one.”

“So, what happens now?” Evan asked look down at his companion. The imp returned his gaze with those glowing yellow orbs of his, and replied.

“You go on. You take everything I showed you, everything I taught you, and you make something of it.”

“I like the sound of that,” said Evan, feeling suddenly very calm. “I want to do better than I did. I want to stop living like my way of seeing and doing things is the only one that matters. And, I want to show other people that, too.” Evan watched as Dziga waved his staff out in front of him, and waggled the end up and down a few times. As he did so, the little balls of light began to whiz off and by Evan, like a million green shooting stars. After a moment, Evan saw the movement of the light begin to slow, and saw that there was a single ball of light among the rest that seemed to be moving towards his face. As it approached, it opened up into the same green frame he had seen before. Within, he saw an image of himself, sleeping. The light streaming in between the layers of his blinds told him that it was morning, confirmed by the numbers on his alarm clock, which read 6:59. Then Evan watched, as Dziga lifted his staff into the air one final time.

“Sounds like a plan. Good luck!” said the imp, bringing the staff down in front of him, resulting in a flash of brilliant green light.

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. SLAM! Evan grumbled to himself as he lifted his hand off the snooze button on his alarm clock, and rolled back into a more comfortable position. If he didn’t know any better, he might believe that 7:00AM was starting to come earlier and earlier every day. As he lay still, with his eyes closed, hoping that time might magically rewind a few hours, and grant him some more of his beloved sleep, he went over everything that he’d be doing that day.

The day was likely to be typical. In a moment, he’d… He’d roll over and… Evan’s eyes snapped open, and he rolled over to see the clock, now reading 7:02. He rubbed his sore eyes, and though hard to himself, thinking back on everything he had been through. “A dream?” he thought. But then, he noticed something out of place. Sat next to his alarm clock was a small, handheld digital camcorder. It was plain, and simple, not the most expensive model, but nice. He reached out, and grabbed the camcorder, bring it back to examine. He rolled it over in his hands a couple times, then popped of the lens cap, and looked through the view-finder. After another moment, he pulled the camera away from his face, and noticed the name of the model on the side of the camera. The Vertov companies’ “Perspective” model. He chuckled to himself, placed the lens cap back on, and made his way out of his bedroom and into the shower.

A few minutes later, Evan came down the stairs and into the kitchen, finding his sister making him a sandwich.

“Good morning, sleepyhead!” his mother greeted him, waving at him with a spatula, before using it to point out his plate of food on the counter. “I made you breakfast!”

“Thanks mom.” Evan said, grabbing the plate and the envelope that sat under it and bringing them over to the table. As he saw down, he saw his sister finishing making her sandwich, and starting on a second.

“2 sandwiches?” he heard his mother ask.

“Yeah, I thought Evan might like one!” said his sister, smiling across the table at Evan.

“Thanks squirt! Hey, do you still need help on your homework later?” Evan said as he started eating the bacon, eggs, and hash his mother had prepared.

“You remembered!” his sister squealed in excitement.

“How could I forget?” Evan laughed, taking another bite.

“Well, you’re in an awfully good mood this morning!” said his mother, as she cleaned up the breakfast dishes.

“Yeah, guess I just got a good night’s sleep.” Evan replied. The, he thought for a moment, and after taking another bite of his breakfast, spoke again. “You know, Mom. I think I want to be a filmmaker.”

Interlude 2: Part 2

The following is the second part of a short story that I wrote as an assignment for my Honors class at school. It's a rough edit, and not the greatest of stories, but I very much enjoyed writing it, and I wanted a chance to share it with people. It's a lengthy read, and I'm posting it in three parts, all of which are probably twice as long as a regular blog post. But, if you're bored, or need a good distraction, I offer this to you:

When he brought his hand away, he was no longer sitting on the floor of his living room. Instead, he found himself, apparently, on the floor of his mother’s bedroom. He could just barely make out the lump under the blankets that he took to be his mother sleeping. “Weird,” he thought, “I didn’t think I’d been asleep for that long.” Suddenly, however, he realized that there was a light emanating from his mother’s nightstand, bathing the room in a dim, eerie, glowing green. Looking over, he realized that it was his mother’s alarm, and, squinting in its direction, he realized that the clock’s display indicated that it was 4:40 AM.

“How long was I asleep?” He wondered out loud in a hushed tone.

“Not very long.” The familiar voice cut its way into the quiet of the bedroom, and Evan looked down at his side, seeing the two familiar glowing ovals, that seemed to be giving off a light of their own. “But that’s not important, because, it’s actually before you woke up this morning right now.”

“What do you mean?” Evan replied with a whisper.

“I mean, we went back in time a little.” replied Dziga. “And you can stop whispering, she won’t be able to hear or see us.“

Now Evan knew he was dreaming. He stood up, walked over to where his mother was sleeping, and reached out towards his mother’s sleeping form. He extended his index finger and aimed to plant is squarely on his mother’s forehead. However, as the finger reached the point where it should have contacted with his mother’s skull, it instead continued on, as though his mother wasn’t even really there. He yanked his hand back towards his body in surprise, and then took a good hard look at his finger. There didn’t seem to be anything abnormal about it. So he did the only thing he felt he could do in the moment. He laughed.

“Alright, Z.” he said in between nervous giggles. “You’ve turned me into a time-traveling ghost, congratulations. But, I’ve got school in the morning, so I’d really appreciate it if we could go back now.”

“’’Fraid not.” The imp replied, jumping up onto the bed and standing on the other side of Evan’s still-sleeping mother.

“And why not?” Evan asked, suddenly even more nervous than he was before.

“Just sit back, try to relax, and most of all, pay attention. Not everyone gets a chance like this, you know.” Evan still couldn’t see the imp’s face, especially in the darkness of his mother’s room, but somehow, the voiced sounded like it was coming from a mouth that was smiling.

Evan had little time to consider this, as he was suddenly startled by a loud beeping noise coming from his side. He leapt backwards instinctively, just barley avoid the end of his mother’s fast extending hand as she reached out and pressed down on the button on top of her alarm clock, silencing it. She then drew the covers back, swung her feet over the edge of her bed, and began to rub the sleep from her eyes.

Evan panicked. He had to hide, she was sure to see him. Maybe he could dash out the door, or dive under the bed? No, it was already too late, as his mother’s hands dropped to her sides, and she opened her eyes, looking directly towards the place where Evan now stood, frozen in panic and fear. However, no look of surprise or duress crossed her face. Instead, she reached under the edge of her bed, and pulled out a pair of slippers, which she placed on her feet. She then rose from her bed, and made her way across the room, and through the door on the other side, which led into her bathroom. Evan watched as she closed the door behind her, and then saw as she flicked the light on, seeing the light flood out from under the door and illuminate the bedroom.

Evan breathed a deep sigh of relief, and moved over towards his mother’s bed, sitting down on the edge. He shook his head from side to side, trying to clear it. This was all certainly a little unexpected. He felt the bed move, as his imp guide moved to sit down next to him, his little legs hanging over the edge of the bed, holding his crooked stick out in front of him.

“So,” said Z, “what do you think?”

“I think when I wake up, I’m gonna schedule a psychiatric exam.” Said Evan, quite shaken.

“No, not about that, silly. About your mom.”

“What do you mean?” Evan asked, rubbing his temples.

“She got up pretty early, huh? Why do you think?” Z queried.

“I dunno, cause she’s old and weird? She gets up early every morning.” Evan had never really seen a point in it. He knew his mom made him and his sister breakfast every morning, but other than that, she didn’t really seem to get much done in the morning.

“You don’t think you might be missing out on anything?” Z asked.

“Not really.” Replied Evan. In response, rather than continue the conversation, Z lifted his crooked staff in the air, and slammed it down in front of him. Again, with a green flash, Evan felt his gut wrenching, and suddenly found himself standing in his kitchen. The clock on the stove indicated that it was now almost 5:30. Standing on the counter next to him, Dziga’s glowing yellow eyes were now level with Evan’s face.

Evan heard the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and looked over just in time to see his mother come down the last stair and round the corner in the kitchen. She was dressed in the same outfit as he remembered her being that morning, a pair of blue jeans, and a red turtle-neck sweater. She took her own look at the clock on the stove, let out a deep sigh, and then reached out, and turned one of the stove-top dials, lighting a burner, before walking over to the kitchen sink and filling a pot with water.

“Let’s see how much she really gets up too in the morning, shall we?” Dziaga said, and lifted his crooked staff into their air. This time, rather than slamming it down, he instead spun it in a clockwise direction. As the little blue creature spun his staff, Evan watched his mother’s movement begin to speed up, becoming more and more frantic. She seemed not to notice, her face the relaxed, determined face his mother usually put on when doing chores. She darted back and forth from the stove-top to the refrigerator, apparently preparing some hard-boiled eggs, as well as making stops to fill and activate the coffee maker. She also cleaned out the dish strainer of the clean dishes from the night before, and placed them in their proper places within the cupboards. She disappeared out the door for a moment, before returning with an armful of soda cans, which Evan recognized as the ones he had left in the living room the night before, having spent most of the night playing video games before going to bed.

More than an hour passed, by measure of the impossibly fast-moving clock on the stove, and all the while, Evan’s mother was active, cleaning, watering plants, and preparing breakfast for he and his sister. As soon, as the clock reached 6:45, Z stopped spinning his staff, and Evan watched as his mother’s movements slowed from their normal pace to a more reasonable one. Then the imp turned his head towards Evan, and spoke.

“So?” the imp asked.

“So what? Yeah, she’s busy, but that’s what a Mom is supposed to do, right? I mean, I guess she does more than I thought, but it’s not really that much.” Evan honestly was quite surprised at how much his mother had gotten done, considering she had only been in the kitchen for a little more than an hour. He tended to take for granted things like how his mother’s various plants got watered, or how there was always something in the refrigerator, ready for Evan to eat. He watched as his mother took the hard-boiled eggs she had just prepared, and used them to prepare some egg salad. She usually made sure there was plenty of variance in their food as well, so that even if Evan ate a sandwich every day, at least he could have some variety of ingredients.

Suddenly, a sound on the staircase caught his ears, and he looked over to see his sister coming down and into the kitchen, fully dressed, and ready for the day. Emma smiled at up her mother, and dashed over to give her a hug. Her mother greeted her warmly, returned the hug, then beckoned her over to the table, while she reached up and began spooning some of the morning’s bacon and eggs onto a plate, along with some hash, and 2 pieces of toast.

“Did Mom really make hash this morning?” he thought to himself. “I don’t remember noticing that.”

“Something wrong?” Z asked, watching Evan stare at the breakfast food.

“No, just… I noticed something I hadn’t before.”

“Oh really? You might want to get used to that feeling.” The imp then chuckled to himself. Evan wondered what the little creature meant, but was suddenly caught as he watched his mother leave her post behind the counter, and move out towards the living room. He strained his head, and just barley caught a glimpse of her, as she opened the front door and made her way outside. He moved around the counter, and went next to the table, looking out past the curtains of the kitchen window. He watched as his mother reached into the mailbox, and pulled out a stack of envelopes, then closing it, and making her way back down the walk, looking at each in turn.

He would have watched her further, but his sister got up from her seat and moved over to the counter, placing her now empty breakfast plate down, and finishing her glass of milk, before making her way over to the cupboard, and producing a loaf of bread. She placed it on an empty spot on the table, then moved toward the fridge, which she opened, grabbing some mayonnaise, turkey, and cheese. She brought these to the table as well, and, for a third time, moved away, making her way around the outside of the kitchen isle, and opening the silverware drawer. She returned to the table with a knife, careful to keep out of the way of her mother, who had just begun making her way back into the kitchen, now only holding a single envelope in her hand, which she set on the counter, next to another full plate of food.

“Looks like Sarah left Evan a note this morning!” Said his mom, now turning back to the stove, and picking up the various pots and pans she had used to cook the morning meal.

“OOOOHHHH!” returned Emma, now busily fixing a turkey and cheese sandwich. “It must be a love note! Tee hee!” She giggled to herself.

“Hey!” Evan said, before realizing what he was doing. He froze for a moment, expecting his sister to jump at his sudden outburst. But she didn’t react, instead, she placed a piece of bread on her now finished sandwich, before pushing it aside, and grabbing another slice.

“2 sandwiches?” came his mother’s question from across the kitchen.

“I’m gonna make one for Evan, too. I think he’s gonna be late!” His sister used the knife she was using to spread mayonnaise as a pointer, indicating the clock on the stove, which now read quarter past 7. “I haven’t even heard him get out of bed yet.“

“Huh… I hadn’t even thought of that. What a sweet little sister you are!” Emma smiled, as she completed the second sandwich, and then began to clean up and repackage her unused ingredients. Evan watched his mother reach up over to the top of the fridge, pulling down the roll of familiar brown wrapping paper she used to pack their lunches, and brought it over to the table. As she lifted up the first sandwich, she examined, and as she started to wrap it up in the brown paper, she chided her daughter. “You know, I just made some egg salad this morning. Nice and fresh! Why didn’t you use that?” Evan looked over at his sister, who was placing the turkey, cheese, and mayonnaise back into the refrigerator. As she closed the door, he saw that her eyes were closed, and she was shaking her head back and forth.

“Nope! Turkey and cheese is Evan’s favorite! And I wanted to say an early thank-you for him helping me with my book report later.” Evan felt a funny pull in his gut. That was really sweet of his little sister sometimes. He had no idea how she knew Turkey and cheese was his favorite, it didn’t really come up that often. And he certainly had no idea what her favorite sandwich might be.

As he mused, Evan watched his mother place one of the wrapped sandwiches into the front pocket of his bag, and hand the other to his sister, who bounded off into the living room, presumably to pack her own backpack. He stepped back towards the counter, looking down at his plate of food, and the envelope that sat next to it. It was plain white, and smaller than a normal envelope, with his name written in dark blue pen, in fancy cursive lettering, and surrounded by a heart. Beneath his name were the words “An invitation for my love.” He suddenly wondered if that might have had anything to do with why Sarah had been upset.

“So?” The voice jostled him. Evan looked back at the kitchen table to find Dziga, standing atop it, lazily leaning against his staff. With all the things that Evan had been watching, he had almost forgotten that the small creature had been accompanying him. Before Evan had a chance to respond, however, Z had lifted his staff above his head, and, again, slammed it down, resulting in a bright green flash. When Evan’s eyesight cleared, he found himself in his living room, just in enough time to catch his own voice shout “I love you!” followed by the sound of the door slamming. He dashed over to the window, and looked out in juts enough time to see his own back, chasing his sister up the path. He turned back, and saw Dziga, seated on one end of the couch, his little legs kicked over the side, his staff held out in front of him, and his eyes, those yellow ovals, simply watching Evan.

“We’re not gonna follow me?” Evan asked.

“Why would we do that?” Z answered the question with another. “You already had your chance to see today from your perspective. Now you get to see it from some other ones.” As Dziga finished speaking, Evan heard the sound of his mother’ coming in the direction of the living room. As she entered, Evan saw she was holding a mug of coffee, and was moving slowly, careful not to spill it. She sat down on the end of the couch opposite Dziga, and placed the coffee on the table next to her. She then sat forward, and reached around the side of the couch, to the shelf on the bottom of the end table, grasping a large white book, and pulling it up into her lap.

 Evan recognized the book. It was an old photo album, made up pictures of his family from the time that he and his mother had gotten married until the year that Emma had been born, and the year that Evan’s dad had died of Leukemia. He watched as his mother leaned back, and opened the book up to its first page. Suddenly, she seemed to freeze in place, and Evan realized that the ambient noise in the room, the dull hum of the families clothes dryer, the sound of cars driving by on the road outside, all of it had gone quiet. He looked to the other end of the couch, where Z was seated. The little imp’s left arm was outstretched, and his palm was glowing green.

“What’d you do?” Evan asked the little creature.

“I paused everything,” Z replied. “I wanted you to have a chance to really look at what you were seeing. Evan looked back at his Mother, frozen in space, and took a hard look at her. He let his eyes scan his mother’s face, first. Her lips were a warm ruby color, likely covered in her favorite lipstick, the color she had worn on her wedding day. He cheeks were rosy as well, and her complexion was very soft. Evan noticed how blue her eyes were, the same blue of his own irises, a cold, piercing blue that had warranted him many a compliment from both good friends and complete strangers. He also noticed the bags under her eyes. Deep, dark piles of skin that made her face look saggy and tired. Then he noticed the wrinkles in her forehead, likely caused by many years of stress and worry. And the face was all framed by her warm, brown, curly hair, which seemed to spring about with a life of its own when she moved. Overall, Evan would say his mom was a beautiful woman, but she also looked tired, like a woman whose many long days and lonely nights had taken their toll, and what was once a young and beautiful visage was weighed down by a long and difficult journey through life.

He slowly reached out one hand, and placed it onto the page of the photo album his mother had opened to. She was caught frozen in the middle of running her hand gently along the face of a picture of herself and her husband, in full wedding regalia, dancing at their reception. As Evan’s hand came into contact with the page, he watched as the photo started to glow. An eerie green light framed the picture for a moment, and the coalesced into a ball of pale green light, which lifted itself up off of the page. Evan watched as the light rose to a point where it was level with his head, and then expanded itself again, to the size of the picture. Suddenly, the image in the photo appeared within the light, and Evan watched as the figures began dancing and moving in the frame, heard the sounds of the music and of people laughing, and reveling in the new marriage.

Within that frame of light, Evan saw his mother as a young woman. Carefree, happy, laughing as though she believed the entire world was without worry, or care. This woman, dancing and twirling and making merry, showed no hint of the woman she would become. Her eyes were alight with life, her cheeks warm with color that was natural, and needed no cosmetic enhancement. He face was warm, and jovial, the only lines were those caused by her facing changing shapes to keep up with her laughter. Evan almost didn’t believe that the woman in this frame could be the woman that sat in front of him, the old, tired woman, a victim of life and it’s circumstance. And yet, he had never once heard her complain, or whine, and each day, when his gaze met hers in the morning, she returned the look with a smile.

Suddenly, Evan lifted his hand, and waved away the image in front of him, scattering the green light and its contents like wisps of smoke. He stood up, and turned away from his mother, and closed his eyes, as his gut wrenched again, just like it had when his sister had commented about his favorite sandwich, but much, much worse. This time the feeling lingered, a feeling that made Evan feel like he had spent the whole day listening to the saddest songs he could find. He closed his eyes, and fought the urge to cry.

“Something wrong?” The voice was as chiding and jolly as ever, a mixture of playful mischief and aged wisdom.

“No, I just… Listen, can we go somewhere else?”

“Sure thing!” Evan looked over, and saw the imp repeat the tell-tale motion, lifting his staff into the air, and swiftly bringing it down in front of him, bringing forth another great burst of green light.

Evan found himself standing at the edge of the school grounds. He could see the sun off to the west in the sky, telling him it was likely afternoon. He looked around, catching a glimpse of a few people making their way out of the school’s side doors, and then heard the bell. “End of the day?” he wondered to himself, then confirming the thought as he watched a horde of high school kids pour out of the various doors, and make their way off of the school grounds.

Among them, he noticed his girlfriend Sarah, making her way out the front door, trying to avoid being trampled by her peers. Instinctively, Evan went to call out for her, but then remembered that it was unlikely she would be able to hear him. Instead, he watched as she made her way in the direction of where he and Dziga were standing, coming to rest a few steps away, she dropped her bag to the ground, and then turned herself back towards the school door, and crossed her arms.

Evan now recognized the moment Z had brought him too, and, sure enough, he watched as, after a moment, himself and Matt came out of the school’s front door, talking about Matt’s truck. He watched as his past self noticed Sarah, and then watched as he and Matt exchanged a few words, then parted. “Darn,” he thought to himself, “I thought I was a lot closer on that punch.” Then, as Matt made his way off the grounds and in the direction of his home, Evan’s past self approached Sarah, and he watched all over again as he and Sarah began to argue.

Suddenly, the figures of Evan’s past self and Sarah froze, mid-shouting, and silence fell upon Evan’s ears. He looked over to see Dziga again, with one of his little arms outstretched, gloved hand glowing green.

“Do you remember what she was angry about?” The little imp asked him.

“No,” Evan replied. “She never really told me. I just figured she wanted to be mad at me.”

“Did she never tell you, or were you just not listening?” Z asked.

“I was listening!” Evan protested. “I just wasn’t in the mood for a fight! I wanted to go to Matt’s! I didn’t have time for her!”

“Well, she certainly had time for you.” Dziga said, almost chuckling at the statement. He waved his stick in the direction of his and Sarah’s frozen forms, and Evan watched as his was suddenly outlined in green. Then, the imp dropped his hand, and the world came back into motion. However, now, for some reason, though Evan could see his past self making motions, and moving his mouth, he couldn’t hear his own voice. Only that of his girlfriends, an angry frustrated tone, seemingly engaged in an argument with no one.

“I spent all morning getting it ready!” He heard his girlfriend say. “I cut myself, twice!” The image of Sarah lifted her hand in the air, revealing 2 Band-Aids, one on the end of her index finger, and one on the end of her thumb. As her hand reached the top of its motion, bring it level with the chest of his past self, Evan saw her motion slow to a halt again, and saw the two fingers now outlined in green. Just as before, with the picture from his mother’s wedding, the green light lifted off of the finger and coalesced into two small balls of green light, which floated over towards Evan’s face.

As they neared him, Evan watched as they shaped themselves into to similarly sized rectangles, and within, saw 2 images of his girlfriend, one with her wearing an apron, and standing over a cutting board the other, apparently in the middle of writing something. As they settled next to one another, the two images then began to move. The one on the right showed Sarah apparently cutting up a melon of some sort, and placing the pieces into a Tupperware container. In the other, she was seated at her dining room table methodically scrawling a long note in blue pen.

Evan watched as the image on the right showed Sarah accidentally get one of her fingers too close to the edge of the knife she was using, just close enough to graze the side of her finger. As she brought the blade down, her hand quickly recoiled, and she brought the affected finger up to her mouth, and sucked, her eyes closed in surprise in pain.

The image in on the left shifted, so Evan could see what Sarah was writing. It was a note, or more aptly, an invitation, apparently addressed to him. It seemed to be inviting him to join her outside of the school during lunch, for a romantic outdoor picnic. It was written in flowing script, and used lavish language, referring to Evan as “the kind gentlemen,” asking if he “Desired to dine with a fair lady in a romantic setting.” As Sarah finished writing the note, she signed it, and folded up the paper she had written it on. She then took the paper and placed it inside a familiar envelope, which she had already decorated. She licked the glue on the fold of the envelope to make it sticky, and then used her finger to seal the envelope shut. As she slid her finger along, she must have given herself a paper cut, because Evan watched this image mirror the other, as she brought the affected finger to her mouth, and sucked.

Once both images had shown Sarah getting cut, the two frames of light collided with one another and the images with reformed into a new one, showing Sarah, on her way to school, and stopping in front of Evan’s house. She reached into her bag, produced the envelope, placed it within his mailbox, and then smiled silently to herself as she carried on in the direction of the school. Instead of following her walk, the image within the light faded out, and then the two balls separated again, and floated back towards the frozen Sarah’s bandaged hand.

“Did I really blow her off?” Evan looked down towards Dziga in question. As a response, the little imp lifted his staff, and began spinning it in the air, this time in a counter-clockwise direction. Evan watched as the frozen images of himself and Sarah suddenly began to reverse their motions. After a moment, he watched as his image began moving backwards, away from Sarah, falling into line with the image of Matt, and moving backwards through the school doors. All the other people as well, seeming to move like the actors on screen when rewinding a VHS tape. Evan watched as the sun moved west to east in the sky, until it made its way right to the middle, high above the school. “Noon,” Evan thought. “Lunchtime.” He looked away from the sky, and examined the school grounds. Not far away, he saw the image of his girlfriend, seated on a blanket, next to a picnic basket. She sat next to a plié of Tupperware containers, which all sat open, and next to a vase, with a pair of roses in it. He made his way over, and saw the she was seated with her legs stretch out in from of her on the blanket. She was leaning back, using her arms to prop herself up, and her head was laid back, as though resting on an invisible pillow.

As he looked, Evan realized that her eyes were red, and puffy. It looked like she had been crying. How long, he wondered, had she been out here, waiting for him to make his way out of the school and join her? As he watched, she sat up, and reached into her pocket, pulling out her cell phone. She used it to check the time, and perhaps to see if there was any word from Evan, then gave a frustrated, disappointed sigh. She started placing the lids on her various containers, and placing them in the basket. After everything was collected, she picked up the vase, looked at the roses for a moment, then unceremoniously dumped them onto the ground next to the blanket. She then folded the blanket, placed it and the vase into the picnic basket, and carried them inside.

Evan watched her go, and then sat himself down where her set up had been. He let himself fall into a lying position, and sprawled in the grass, trying to combat the tension on the pit of his gut, renewed again by what he had just witnessed. He closed his eyes, and took in a deep breath of air. He felt like such an idiot, and a jerk. He would have really liked to have had lunch with Sarah, and even if he hadn’t he didn’t want to upset her. Worse than that, he had been too worried about trying to get to Matt’s to even take the time to understand why she was upset. All of which was his fault anyway, because he had been in a hurry that morning, and hadn’t been paying attention when his mother handed him the envelope. Evan would have liked to lie there in the cool grass for a while, and try to sort things out in his head. Unfortunately, however, he suddenly noticed that a shadow had cast itself over his face. He opened his eyes, to find the blue-robed imp standing over him, staring down at him with those glowing yellow ovals.

“Something wrong?” Dziga echoed his query from before. Evan rolled over on his side, putting his back to the imp. Rather than answer the imp’s question, he asked one of his own.

“Can I go home now?”

“I’m afraid not.” Z replied. We’ve still got one more stop. Evan thought he felt a quick rush of air as something passed by the back of his head. He closed his eyes in anticipation, and shore enough, felt a quick lurch of his body, and saw a dull green flash beyond his eyelids. 

Interlude 2: Part 1

                  The following is the first part of a short story that I wrote as an assignment for my Honors class at school. It's a rough edit, and not the greatest of stories, but I very much enjoyed writing it, and I wanted a chance to share it with people. It's a lengthy read, and I'm posting it in three parts, all of which are probably twice as long as a regular blog post. But, if you're bored, or need a good distraction, I offer this to you:

Perspective, By Jeff Servetas

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. SLAM! Evan grumbled to himself as he lifted his hand off the snooze button on his alarm clock, and rolled back into a more comfortable position. If he didn’t know any better, he might believe that 7:00AM was starting to come earlier and earlier every day. As he lay still, with his eyes closed, hoping that time might magically rewind a few hours, and grant him some more of his beloved sleep, he went over everything that he’d be doing that day.

The day was likely to be typical. In a moment, he’d roll over, and get out of bed, take a quick shower, throw on his clothes, and go downstairs. He’d probably pick over whatever his mother cooked him for breakfast, though she tended to go overboard, making a lot more than he really felt like eating so soon after waking up. He might catch a few minutes of the morning news on TV, and then he and his little sister, Emma, would walk to school. A few blocks, and he’d arrive, and go through a typical boring day. Hopefully, he’d get a little time to hang with his best friend, Matt, and would likely see his girlfriend, Sarah, as well. Then, he’d come home, accidentally on purpose forget his homework, and play on his computer, until he decided to go to bed. Sounded like a pretty typical day.

Unfortunately, what Evan had failed to anticipate was how long he was taking to plan his day. He suddenly noticed the obnoxious beeping he had subconsciously been ignoring, perhaps in attempt to return to beautiful sleep. As his eyes snapped open, he rolled his body around again, and with an exasperated sigh, realized that he was nearly 15 minutes late in getting up and moving. He tossed the covers off and away, and jumped to his morning preparations.  After another 10 minutes, clean and clothed, he stomped his way down the stairs, and into the kitchen.

“Sleep in this morning, did we?” his mother quipped as he came into the kitchen. Evan only half heard her, grabbing his bag from its resting place beside the table, and beginning to collect everything necessary for the day. “I made you breakfast!” she smiled at Evan, and pointed toward a plate of food on the counter, sat next to a plate adorned only with crumbs, which had likely at one point held his sister’s food.

“Uhh… Thanks, Mom but I’m not really hungry.” Even didn’t bother to look over at his mother, busy collecting the various papers he had left on the table the night before, and stuffing them into his knapsack. His mother gave a small frown, but didn’t argue with him. She reached over and grabbed the plate of food, and moved it to the back of the kitchen. As she returned, she carried a small envelope in her hand.

“This was in the mailbox this morning. It says it’s for you.” She walked up next to Evan, and held the envelope out. Evan, still working to collect his papers, hastily grabbed at the envelope, and stuffed it into the bag amidst the rest of his things. He then zipped the bag, slung it over one shoulder, and gave his mother a quick thanks, and a hug, before moving his way out of the kitchen and into the living room. His sister was sitting on the couch, her eyes affixed to the morning news. Looked like an interest piece on some neighborhood fundraiser, nothing special.

“Come on squirt, we’re gonna be late!” Evan waited for his sister to start to get up, then made his way across the room. As he opened the door, his sister crossed the room in two great, excited bounds, and passed in front of him.

“I’m the one that’s been waiting for you, silly!” She laughed playfully, and walked her way up the path from the front door to the sidewalk. Evan shook his head, and made a mental note to be sure to tease her a little extra today, before making his own way out the door.

“Love you, Mom!” he shouted, before quickly shutting the door, and dashing to catch up to his sister. She had already rounded the end of the path, and had started along the sidewalk, in the direction of the school. “Wait up!” he shouted, just as he was catching up to her, “Why are you in such a hurry?”

“I don’t know!” She smiled mischievously, and began to half-walk, half-skip her way along next to her big brother. “I just get the feeling that today is gonna be a good day!”

“Is that so?” Evan asked skeptically, not really expecting a response. He had the opposite feeling. He never liked to get up in the morning, but having to jump up in a rush always put him out of sorts. What’s worse was that, this morning, he really would have liked to have something to eat. He looked downward and rubbed his stomach in disappointment.

“Looking for some good luck, there, Buddah?” Said a familiar voice. Evan looked up, and saw his friend Matt standing farther along up the sidewalk. He was grinning from ear to ear, excited about something unknown. “Or are you just so sexy that you can’t keep your hands off yourself?”

“Hey man, you wish you had this body!” Evan shot back, as he and his sister reached the spot where Matt was waiting, and his friend fell into place alongside them as the continued to walk. “So, what’s got you in such a good mood?”

“I finished it, man! I had to work most of the night, but I finally finished it! And it runs great!”

“Hey man, sweet, congrats! Can I come over later and see it?” Evan asked. Matt had spent the better part of the last two years working to restore his father’s 1978 Chevorlet truck, which had been in the family ever since Matt’s grandfather sold it to his father. Unfortunately, it also hadn’t been in anywhere near working condition since before Matt was born. A while ago, Matt had started spending all of his time learning about the various parts and pieces that went into making the old truck go, and spending every cent he got from birthdays, Christmases, and hours and hours of working on his grandfather’s farm in order to buy manuals, spare parts, and tools to help with repairs. Now, apparently the project was finished, just in time for Matt to graduate and be able to take it with him to college.

“Evan!” his sister piped up, suddenly, “You promised that you’d help with my homework tonight! Plus, Mom needs your help to clean up for when Nana and Pop visit tomorrow!” She wasn’t lying. Evan had “promised” to help his sister with her book report last night, albeit only half-heartedly, in an attempt to stop her from pestering him. His mother always went into a frenzy whenever his Grandparents visited. Evan never really understood why, but he knew that the night before they came, he probably wasn’t going to have much time to himself.

“Whatever, Squirt, I’ll take care of it. Now lay off, will yah?” He deflected his sister’s pestering, and then spent the rest of the walk to school trying to come up with the best methods to keep everyone off his back, and still be able to go and see the truck that night. As they rounded a corner, the school grounds came into view. Nearly a hundred students and teachers milling back and forth, carrying in boxes and bags from vehicles, enjoying the nice weather with a quick game of hacky sack, or simply standing in a circle and talking, trying to enjoy their last few moments of freedom before that accursed clarion call signaled that their educational internment for the day had begun.

Before they had even made it to the school’s lawn, Evan’s little sister took off running, and made a bee-line for a group of her friends, assembled outside one of the school’s side entrances. He and his friend made for the large front door, and as they entered, the school’s bell rang to signal that they had 5 minutes before classes began. Just inside the door, Evan gave Matt a quick fist bump, before his best friend ducked into a near-by door, while he continued on into the school, and up a flight of stairs, making his way to the first class of the day.

Evan’s morning was uneventfully boring; most of it spent staring out of the windows of the various classrooms he was in, thinking about nothing in particular. When the mid-day bell signaled that it was lunchtime, he let forth a palpable sigh of relief, and made his way through the crowded hallways and down into the cafeteria.  As he entered, he scanned the tables, his eyes passing over various groups of people, eating their lunch and enjoying light conversation. As he finished his look around the room, he moved his way to an empty table near the back of the room.

“Weird,” he thought to himself. “Sarah usually beats me to lunch.” He didn’t really dwell on it, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t remembers to pack himself a lunch. He pulled his bag on to the top of the table and frantically dug. A wave of relief washed over him as he reached into the backpack’s front pocket, his hands feeling the distinctive crinkle of the brown wrapping paper his mom used when she packed him lunch. He pulled out the sandwich his mother had packed him, and unwrapped it. Turkey and cheese, his favorite. He silently sent a thank you in his thoughts to his mother, and chowed down, sipping on water from the green metallic water bottle he carried around with him.

Lunch passed uneventfully. No sign of Sarah, and only a quick wave to Matt, as he entered the lunch room at the same time Evan was leaving. Back up to the second floor for history class, and another session of staring out the window. Evan had never been one for school, but history was his least favorite class. Talking about all these things that had happened a long time ago in a far away place always bored him. What did they matter anyway? They never had an effect on his life, and worrying about them just seemed like an unneeded stressor. Evan was much more a “live in the moment” kind of guy. Deal with things as they come, and once they’re done, they’re done.

The rest of the day went as uneventfully at the first, and Evan was almost surprised when the final bell signaled that the day was over, and that he was finally free. He slung his backpack onto his shoulders, and stepped out into the hall. He began to make his way towards the exit, but stopped short when a voice called out to him

“Wait up, man!” It was Matt, racing up from the opposite direction. “You still wanna come over and check out the truck?”

“Definitely! But we gotta make it quick, dude, Emma  wasn’t lying, I gotta make sure I get home in time to help my mom out.”

“No problem, yo! We’ll go check out the beautiful beast, listen to her pur for a little bit, and then maybe I can even tag along, help out at your place.” Matt gave another massive smile, and the pair continued down the hallway, and out the door of the school. As they made their way to the bottom of the school steps, Evan suddenly realized that he could see someone out of the corner of his eye, looking in his direction.

Looking off to the side, he saw Sarah, looking his way, with an unpleasant look on her face. “Oh great!” he thought to himself, “What did I do this time?” Matt followed Evan’s gaze, and once he saw Sarah’s face, he began to tease his friend.

“Uh-oh,” he quipped, “Looks like you’re in trouble!” Matt chuckled to himself, and chuckled more when Evan looked back at him distastefully.

“Oh, shut up, wouldja? Listen, I’ll just go see what’s up, and be right along. I’ll meet you at your place, ok?”

“Alright, man, but don’t take too long. I’m not sure if I can keep that beautiful monster in her cage for too long. Not that you don’t already have your own ‘beautiful beast!’” Matt lauged again, and quickly leapt to the side to avoid the playful punch Evan had thrown at his shoulder. “See you in a bit, man!” Evan gave a half-hearted harrumph, before turning back towards Sarah, and walking in her direction. A few strides, and he was standing in front of her, looking down into her face.

“What’s up, babe?” he asked. She didn’t respond, instead closing her eyes, and turning her head to one side, giving a disapproving grunt that told Evan what he had already guessed, that she was upset with him. “Come on, what’s the matter?” he asked again, this time, eliciting a more vocal response. She turned her head and looked angrily into his face.

“Where were you today?” she asked, quietly, but curtly. Evan returned a quizzical look, not understanding the question.

“When?” he asked. Her nostrils flared, and her pupils dilated ever so slightly, as she set her jaw angrily before answering him.

“What do you mean when? Today at lunch!”

“I was in the lunch room!” He replied, still confused, but fairly certain that whatever she was mad about, it was unwarranted. He wasn’t in the mood for this, he had things to do! Her jaw stayed set in anger, but her hand reached up and brushed some of her hair out of her face, before replying again, more forcefully than before.

“Look Evan, if you didn’t wanna come, you could have just said so. I sat out here for almost an hour waiting for you! Not to mention all the time and effort I put in last night…” The situation devolved from there. Nearly 2 hours later, after the exchange of many heated and angry words, Sarah left in tears, and Evan watched her go, his arms at his sides, fists clenched in anger. “What a crazy bitch!” he thought to himself. “I didn’t do anything! She gets all upset with me, won’t explain why, and now, she kept me long enough that there’s no way I can swing by Matt’s. Damnit!” Once Sarah was out of sight, he started to make his way home, cursing under his breath the entire way. He looked over longingly as he passed Matt’s house, wondering just how pretty the truck sounded when it was running.

A few minutes later, and he made his way through his front door, dropping his backpack, and reaching down to remove his shoes. The smell of dinner was strong in the house, smelled like taco night. Evan didn’t really like tacos, but after that fight with Sarah, and the walk home, he was starving, he made his way into the kitchen, finding his mother and sister already seated at the table.

“Well, hello! Nice of you to join us!” His mother said, as he slid into a chair on the other side of the table, reaching out to grab the taco shells and beginning to heap a pile of hamburger into them. “What kept you?” his mother asked.

“Nothing,” he said, dolloping sour cream on top of his nearly-finished dinner, and bring a taco up to his mouth, taking a large bite. “Just had a fight with Sarah.”

“That’s not good! What about?” his mother asked.

“I don’t know, I couldn’t get a straight answer from her. I think she was just in a mood.” Evan replied.

“Plus you went over to Matt’s right, to see his new truck or whatever?” asked his sister, as she brought a glass of milk up to her mouth to drink.

“No, I didn’t even have time for that, thanks to Sarah!” he grumbled, taking another bite of his dinner.

“Well, that’s too bad. Good to know he finally got that old thing fixed though. He’s been working on it for so long now, but as busy as he gets, I wonder how he managed to do it by now!”

“Yeah, I guess he just likes working.” Evan said, finishing off his first taco, and reaching to begin preparing another. After he and his mother and sister had finished eating, he helped clean up the table.

“Now, Emma, why don’t you go get to work on your book report?” His mother said, once the table was clear. “Evan, if you could do the dishes please, and then, once you’re done, I think you promised to help your sister?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Evan said, as he made his way over to the sink. He put the plug into the drain, and turned the water on. As he reached for the dish soap, he watched his mother and sister leaving the room. “You know, we should get a dishwasher. It would make this a lot easier.” His mother stopped for a moment in the door, and smiled knowingly in his direction.

“I keep telling you, Evan, just as soon as you go out and win the lottery, we can get all the nice things you want, and life will be as ‘easy’ as you want. Until then, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to suffer with pruned fingers.”

Evan sighed as his mother left him to his work, and he complained to himself as he began to scrub the dinner dishes. “It’s not fair, he thought. Sarah’s family has a dishwasher, and a big-screen TV! Heck, even Matt’s got a dishwasher at his place, and here I am, bent over the sink when I could be relaxing. Why can’t Emma do these?”

A half-hour later, Evan pulled the plug out of the bottom of the sink, and let the water drain away, wiping his hands dry with a dish towel. He then wiped off the dirty dishes counter, and brought the towel along with him out of the kitchen, tossing it into the hamper just inside the bathroom door, and then continued on out into his living room. He found his sister seated on the couch, with a pile of papers, her nose buried in a book. He took a spot on the opposite end of the couch, and reached over to the end table, grabbing the television remote.

“So,” Evan said as he switched the TV on, “whatcha working on?”

“It’s my English homework. I’ve gotta write a book report on “A Christmas Carol.” His sister replied.

“What are you reading that for? It’s practically summer, already!” Evan said, flipping through the TV channels.

“Mr. Haggerty said that there’s valuable stuff in the story, lessons that apply even though it’s not Christmas. That’s why I wanted your help.” His sister said, passing him the book. Evan hadn’t found anything particularly interesting on TV, so he left it on the local news, and reached over to grab the small paperback out of his sister’s hand. He flipped through a few of the pages, scanned through some of the words, and handed it back.

“I’ll do my best,” he said, closing his eyes, and letting his head fall back and rest on the couchback. For the next few minutes, his sister asked him a myriad of questions about what he thought certain scenes meant, why certain characters acted the way they did, why the story had a happy ending. Evan gave answers he thought sounded right, all the while leaning back and thinking about how lame the day had been. Getting up late, fighting with his girlfriend, missing out on seeing Matt’s truck. He figured his sister was wrong when she had said the day was going to be good, but he hadn’t wanted her to be this wrong!

Eventually, his sister packed up her papers and made her way upstairs to take a shower, leaving Evan alone with his thoughts. He swung his feet up over the edge of the couch, and sprawled out, letting his head lay on the armrest. He rolled over and looked up at the TV. The show had switched to some boring “How it works” show. Looks like tonight they were talking about movie cameras. How boring. Evan let his eyelids fall down over his eyes, and let his brain carry him away as he hoped that tomorrow would be a better day than today.

“Having a nice nap, Mr. Man?” Evan heard a voice he did not recognize, and opened his eyes. His vision was a little blurry, but as he blinked the sleep away, and looked around the room, he realized he was still alone. Suddenly, there was the sound of someone, wrapping on glass, accompanied by the voice again. “Over here, sleepy-head.”

Evan turned towards the TV, which still appeared to be on. The images on screen of movie cameras being assembled had been replaced with a blue-robed humanoid figure, wearing a large, wizard-like hat, whose brim obscured all of the features on his face, save for two bright-glowing ovals, which appeared to be his eyes. In his right hand, the figure held a wooden stick, bent and crooked at the top, which the small figure used to wave at Evan, before using his other hand to indicated that Evan should come closer. Evan, apparently more curious than he was frightened, made his way over, and squatted in front of the television, waving back at the curious figure.

“Are you Evan?” the figure asked, in the same voice Evan had heard before, higher pitched than Evan’s, with a touch of age and wisdom, and with some jollity. Evan imagined that if he ever met Santa Claus, that he would probably sound something like this. Evan nodded, then watched as the small figure put his hand up against the screen, as though he were standing just on the other side of the glass. The figure then exerted himself, acting as though he meant to push the screen off.

Instead, however, Evan watched as the figure’s small, blue-gloved hand seemed to melt its way through the screen, and into his living room. Evan leapt backwards, clumsily rolling his way back into the couch, and bring his head up in just enough time to watch the rest of the strange figure follow his hand, and come tumbling onto the floor of his living room. Picked itself up and dusted itself off, it looked over at Evan.

“Thanks for catching me,” It said sarcastically, adjusting its hat into a straight position. Evan tried to catch a glimpse of the figure’s face, but, it seemed that, though the hat moved, the shadow on the creature’s face didn’t.

“Who… what are you?” Evan asked, eyes glued to the curious invader of his living room. The figure, standing not quite 2 feet tall, even at the tip of its hat, made its way towards Evan, and extended a small gloved hand.

“The name’s Dziga,” it said, “Z for short.”

“Uhh… nice to meet you?” Evan said, extending an unsure hand. As he reached forward, the small creature grabbed the end of one of his fingers and shook it vigorously. “Am I dreaming?” Evan asked, suddenly remembering what he had been doing before the creature had arrived. In response, the small creature lifted the crooked stick, which was nearly as tall as it was, and used it to deliver a swift bonk to Evan’s forehead. He brought a hand up to the place of contact, and rolled himself back up into a kneeling position. “Hey!” he protested, “What was that for?”

“Guess you’re not dreaming, are you?” Said Dziga.

“Apparently,” replied Evan, rubbing the spot on his forehead where he had been hit. “If I’m not dreaming, then why is there elf in my living room?”

“I’m not an elf, you fool, I’m an imp! And I’m here to help you get a little perspective.” Dziga said, making his way back towards the television, and seeming to examine the screen that he had come through.

“What do you mean?” asked Evan. Instead of replying, the imp turned back around, and, grasping the end of his crooked stick with both hands, brought it up above his head, and swiftly brought it through a downward sweep, slamming the end into the ground. There was a bright green flash, and Evan reached up to shield his eyes with his hand.