I'm awake.

Awake is good. Awake is good because-

Uh oh.

I haven't got the faintest idea why awake is good. I have no idea how I know what awake is, let alone what it means to be the opposite of awake (asleep? Unconscious? Dead?) Oh boy … None of this is making any sense.

One thing at a time.

I'm awake. I know what awake means. I know that I'm an I … a me?

And my nose is wrong.

I know what a nose is. I know that I have a nose- that I should have a nose. The concept of having a nose (nosity? Noseness?) is not frightening or surprising.

But a fire engine red nose is wrong.

I can't explain how I know that. I just do. I know that my nose shouldn't be red.

And I should be able to move, but I can't.

I wriggle my fingers. Yep. I have fingers. I count them. Ten. That's right. I make a mental check mark in the Do you have fingers? box.

Toes. Toes are next. Yep. I have the standard number of toes.

Fingers and toes mean that I have arms and legs. If I have arms and legs why can't I move them?

And the fact that I can tell my red nose (and why is "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer" suddenly playing in my head?) is wrong indicates that a) I have eyes and b) I have color vision.

So since I have eyes, I try to look and see more than my nose …

Okay. I'm in a lab. At least I assume that's what all those cameras and computers and scientific instruments mean. My head is secured so I'm looking out of the corner of my eyes. (Add a check in the Do you have a head?box.) Does that make me a lab rat?

Or a Frankenstein's Monster …?

I have to get out of here … wherever here is.

I try to move my arms and legs again. No go. I'm still stuck … but this time I can feel the restraints that are keeping me from sitting up, moving, or seeing the rest of my body.

Okay. I'm not paralyzed, but the restraints do lend credence to the theory that some hunchbacked lab assistant is going to show up any second now saying, "Master! Master! It's alive! It's alive!"

I don't want to be here when that happens.

I grit my teeth (hey, I have teeth) and try to free my hands. One of the restraints snaps, and my left arm is freed. My right remains securely bound and I can't seem to get any purchase with my left hand to free my right … because my left hand is going through the restraint .. and the arm beneath it.

That's not normal.

Don't ask me how I knew that wasn't normal, but I did.

My left hand feels … funny. Like I'm slipping it into a bucket of ice water that has warm water underneath it.

Maybe I can make the rest of me feel that way so I can flip free of these restraints …

I do it. I don't know how I do it any more than you think about how you tie your shoes. I just will myself to be intangible.

Intangible! That's the word! That's what my left hand is! I feel almost giddy with knowledge. Like air or smoke …

Smoke. Be like smoke …

And that funny feeling in my left hand is suddenly throughout my entire body. The restraints are like ice water but I flow free of them and I hover in the air. I'm afraid … afraid that I'm going to drift apart like smoke … but I don't.

I drift away from the table. No more smoke. Good old solid flesh please …

And just like that, I'm solid again.

I look down at myself and I'm wearing a costume.

It's green. Green body suit. A yellow belt. Yellow gloves and boots. And I'm wearing a cape.

A cape?

Who wears a cape?

Well, obviously I do … but … why?

I'm up and I'm free. I don't know where I am. I know that I should get the heck out of Dodge.

There's a door. It's shut, and it's sealed, and I've got no doubt that it's locked. That won't mean much to me, I know. I'm pretty sure that I can walk- or float- through the door if I need to.

And yet … we don't need no stinkin' door when we can walk through matter, do we?

I wrap my hands in my cape … hm … maybe that's what it's for … and walk through the wall.

Be like smoke. Be like smoke …

Metal is cold. Plastic is warmer … not as warm as flesh or even wood … but it's warmer than metal. Say, should a wall be this thick?

And I'm out.

This isn't a house.

Or a hospital.

It feels compoundy. It's got the feel of a place that wasn't meant to be what it is. Now why does that feel so damn familiar?

I'm out in the middle of a hallway. I'm too exposed. And that is probably a bad thing given that someone had left me strapped to an operating table. If I'm seen there could be trouble …

Oh, who am I kidding? There's bound to be trouble.

But I should make sure that it's at a place and time of my choosing.

I could try to escape … but without knowing the lay of the land I could be running right into the very same trouble I was trying to get away from. For all I knew we were a thousand feet underground surrounded by boiling hot lava. Or at the depths of the ocean or in outer space.

First thing to do is to get out of this hallway. Next is to learn where I am. Then I can decide how to escape.

Which way to go? Up down, left or right?

I mentally toss a coin (and yes, I realize I know what a coin is) and sink into the floor.

Be like smoke. Be like smoke …

Two floors down I find myself in a bathroom.

It's newish. New toilet, shower and bathtub. Sink. There's toothpaste. Toothbrush. Combs and brushes. Towels. The usual stuff you'd find in a bathroom, including a mirror. There's a clothes hamper but I resist the urge to open it.

Instead I look at the mirror. More specifically, I look into the mirror. I look into the mirror at my reflection.

A red .. crimson, maybe? … face looks back at me. (I sorta expected that; only reindeer have just a red nose). I look youngish, I decide. Not ugly, though the green eyes are kinda weird- it's like I have cameras in my eyes or something. I open my mouth to show off perfect white teeth and a normal shaped tongue.

I'm apparently bald because there's no way any hair can fit underneath that green headpiece I'm wearing.

That doesn't feel right either. I should have hair. I don't know how or why I think that, but I'm terribly disappointed that I don't have hair.

I'm still looking at myself when the door to the bathroom swings open and a girl walks through it still wearing pajamas. Red pajamas.

She's gorgeous.

Brown hair with a hint of red. Lips that look made to be kissed. Eyes that make me want to write sappy poetry about.

And a smokin' hot body.

Those gorgeous lips opened in surprise … but no fear at seeing a six foot tall red skinned man wearing a green and yellow costume in her bathroom.

Oh well.

At least she hadn't seen me checking my package out … (not that I was going to do anything like that. Only a terribly insecure guy would check his package out first thing after waking up and not recognizing himself in the mirror.)

"Um, hi." I give her a half-hearted wave and smile.

"Simon!" she said with a pleased smile. "You're awake!" And she rushes forward to give me a hug. She raps her arms around me and holds me tightly in her arms.

All things considered, it's the highlight of my day so far.

Of course as much as I want it to last, I don't. I find myself saying three little words that cause the girl to back away from me in horror and surprise. Three little words...

"Simon? Who's Simon?"