Ruins Greater Than Troy
A/N: Calvin and Hobbes are owned by Universal Press Syndicate and Bill Watterson, Hobbes Calvington is my own creation, as is the Cal-American Confederacy. The plot owes some homage to Terminator, the title to Arthur C. Clarke. Other than that, and an X-Files influence on the leaf scene, it's mine, you here me all mine! Now for a small plug for a good cause, that doesn't cost a cent (advertisers on the site pay it): Visit www.thehungersite.com & the other sites in the ring everyday. Sign up for free newsletters that also give aid. Heck and check out www.thebirthsite.com/othermenu.html while you're at it, turns out there's 100s of sites like this. Clicking on the company's ads also helps give as well. (Some of the best: Poverty Fighters and MCI LifeSaver, even give to Royal Flyng Doctors in Australia!)Definately use the Against Hunger Surf Bar...donate 1 cup of food every 3 minutes. http://www.againsthunger.org/games/surf/banner.html Thanks and God bless you all! R/R/E!
November 18, 2003
Shady Acres, Ohio, United States of America
Autumn.
A red and gold leaf danced precariously on a rather skinny branch, hanging on for dear life as the crisp air rushed around it. It seemed as if the gusts of wind were intentionally attempting to shove the leaf to a fall proportionally like jumping off the Chrsyler Building would be for a man.
Finally, the little leaf gave way, and gracefully floated down, bucking and twirling as gravity pulled it further and further in a downward spiral to Mother Earth. It fell peacefully, as though it had always meant to jump. The green grass beckoned out to the wee little leaf, as if it were a center fielder prepared to catch the game-ending fly out.
Suddenly, and without warning, a purple and green flash took place. The leaf attempted to scurry away from the sparks, but to no avail, gravity already had the golden red miracle in its grasp and refused to let go.
Hobbes Calvington appeared slowly, as if he was walking out of the mist and into sunshine and rays for the first time. And indeed, to Hobbes Calvington it appeared that it had been the first time. The last robin of autumn chirped placidly, the wind whistled through his ears, and when he looked up he saw a clear blue sky with only a few fluffy white clouds.
It was what he did not see that impressed him more than what he did see. Calvington fingered his handrifle with interest as he looked around him. The backyard of this household unit extended like fingers of a hand into a great forest, one that Calvington knew as Shady Acres National Park. But the National Park, big as it was (the biggest forest on the planet following the Great Fires after World War Three) was only an eighth of the size of what the backyard opened up too.
Then there was the sky, unlike the horrific orange that was seared into his memory after the apocalypitic events of only two days eariler. He was a surprise to suddenly see blue when he looked up, to hear crows cawing, and the last robin of autumn chirping away diligently.
It was about then that Calvington looked down at his arm and recieved quite a panic. There, embedded in the flesh of his wrist was a fair miracle of fall, a golden-red leaf freshly plucked from a branch. He looked around in worry. How was that possible, how could THAT happen? Then his mind flickered to one of General D'Voe's favorite theories, back when Operation Wells was still in its starting stage.
What if our time-traveler happens to time travel into the exact point of another piece of matter? Say he or she arrives half-way in and half way of a wall? Does the wall explode, or it's moleculor structure just shift? Does the time-warp just fail and return our traveler to the present? Or is it theoretically possible, that under such conditions that the law of physics are repealed and man AND matter are allowed to co-exist in the same moment?
It appeared, Calvington thought as he tried to yank the sucker out of his wrist, to no avail, that the general's wacked third alternative theory had been correct. The leaf was so stuck in his wrist that he could not pull it out, no matter how much pressure he put on it as he attempted to pull a simple leaf out his skin. Finally resigned to his fate, Calvington swung his wrist around a few times, before finally assuring himself that everything worked fine.
Suddenly, and without warning, he heard muffled voices and shuffled footsteps, he tightened his grip on his laser handrifle, and swung around firing two shots into the solid oak that he had materilized next too, as a warning shot to whomever came around the house. Was it possible that some bum from the post-apocalyptic world that he lived in had followed him through the Mk II?
Blue light shot out from the handrifle's muzzle and sliced past a grinning six-year old Calvin and his faithful tiger companion as they rounded the corner of the house in the Round-The-Yard-Backwards-Dash.The lazfire impacted the oak tree that he had morphed next too and hit the trunk in a solid bulls-eye hit. The tree's bark began to actually melt and collaspe, fusing together and setting other branches on fire.
Calvington was only dimly aware of his this as he readjusted his handrifle, and aimed it at the forehead of the six-year old version of the future Cal-American President. He also slightly noticed a worn stuffed tiger next to the child.
I'll be at your window at eight, kid, Calving muttered softly, but gruffly, then added, Mr. President.
And Calvington ran off into the woods, vaguely noticing how the layout of Shady Acres was as it was it 2127, except the buildings were different, less-modern, and...there was no sign whatsoever of a nuclear holocaust....he sped forward to the City Triangle.
Back at Calvin's house, the burning tree caused quite a sensation. After some branches began to fall and hit the lawn, starting a brush-fire, Calvin's dad called 911 and came out armed with a fire extingusher. By the time the fire-engines arrived, the tree had been completely burnt down, and nearly sixty yards of woodland backyard was black soot.
Calvin was sent to his room before he could mention the visitor who hand fired a blue laser beam at the tree, and after reading some old comic books promptly forgot about him as Hobbes did his homework on his magoheny desk.
Calvin stated as he flipped through his comic book, Terminator 2: Judgment Day, This is so lame.
Hobbes, the tiger in question, put down his canary yellow number two pencil and looked at the cluttered mess of Calvin's room, and even grinned slightly as he looked at the crude painting of a tiger hanging over Calvin's headboard.
He swiveled the chair towards Calvin, What is?
This stupid plot, he gestured at the cover of his graphic novel, Guy comes from the future to save the globe from thermonuclear armageaddon. How cliche, how boring. Calvin paused as he flung it away, Intellectually discouraging. Low art.
Uh huh, Hobbes murmurred, he looked over at Calvin's alarm clock nervously, he felt his tail get busy and he began to worry in earnest. It was seven fifty-nine, less than a minute before, he shuddered, remembering the lazer bolt that decimated the tree.
There was a knock on the window.
Zero hour had arrived.