The door opened wide, and a little girl stood there, with her head cocked,
looking at Max.
"Um, hello," Max stuttered. "Is your mum or dad here?"
The girl nodded and ran off. Pretty soon, a tall woman came to the door, smiling. "You must be Maximillian," she beamed. "Please, come in. I'm Maria. It's lovely to meet you."
Max was a little speechless. He was busy looking around the parts of the house he could see. In a very short amount of time, the family had made the place look like home and some things looked like they were imported from foreign countries. Some peacock feathers sat in an aqua vase, and woodcarvings adorned a wall. "I'll call Floyd," Maria said. She went out of Max's view, calling, "Floyd! Floyd!"
An answer came: "OKAY!" Annoyed, Max thought. Obviously annoyed.
He prepared himself: But soon a longhaired, blond haired boy came running up. "Oh, hello," he grinned. "I'm Floyd." "Max. Maximillian," Max said. There was an awkward moment of silence till Floyd said, "Well... Come on upstairs. My room's all done up already. Anyway... Where do you live?"
"A few streets down."
"Ah. I'm starting school soon. Um, where were you born?"
"England."
"Me too! Um..." They stood there for a second in silence. Then Floyd cleared his throat. "Come on," he said, leading Max up the stairs.
"This," he said, leaning against a door just to the right of the top of the stairs, "Is my room." He slowly opened the door, watching Max's face. When it opened, Max gaped. "How..."
His room was already completely in order. His bed was made up; his dresser was there, books, etc. And it was NEAT and CLEAN, something that was hard to achieve at Max's home. "How- how- how-"
Floyd smiled. "I guess I work fast. I usually do when I learn company's coming."
"But didn't you move in just two days ago?" Max asked.
"How did you know?" Floyd asked, a little shocked.
"My friend lives on the next street down, so.." Max trailed off. Great, he thought. I've ruined everything...
Floyd saw the change in Max's face, a little upset, and said, "Oh, you didn't do anything wrong." He smiled. "If you spied, well... I used to spy a lot, too."
Max nodded. "Um, when are you starting school?"
The other boy sat down on his bed. "Monday," he said. "Come on in and close the door. You hungry?" Max nodded. "This morning, we forgot to make lunches. Those of us who took note of that fact grabbed lunch money before they left."
By that time, Floyd was dangling over his bed trying to reach something under it. "I'm listening," he assured the other. "I'm trying to find... A- ha!" He pulled out a box labeled, "Do NOT open, if you value your life." "My food box," Floyd grinned. "I have to hide it, you know. Don't stand around; you can sit. Come on, sit on the bed."
Max did so, and Floyd pulled out various things from the box. By the looks of it, his new friend had an enormous sweet tooth. Usually, it might've made him sick, but Max was so hungry he didn't care.
"So," Floyd said. "Tell me about yourself."
"Mhmm," Max shook his head, swallowing whatever Floyd had handed him. "You first. Like, what's your last name... Siblings..."
His friend laughed. "Oh, all right!" he said. "My last name is Williams. So it's 'Floyd Williams.' I have a little brother who's twelve, and a little sister who's six."
"Names," grinned Max.
Floyd groaned and flopped down onto his back. "Will you stop interrogating me?" he laughed. "Well, all right; my little brother's Tyler; my little sister's Agnes. Happy now?" He asked, eyeing Max, who nodded, grinning. Floyd rolled his eyes.
Anyway, this went on until Max noticed the time: 5:09. He jumped up, hastily explained he had to get back to Liza's, and grabbed his coat. Floyd followed. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Dad should be at Liza's any second now!" Max replied. "I hate to say it, but... I didn't tell my parents about you. Or meeting your dad. Because..." He stopped his tracks, feeling guilty.
"He was a stranger." Floyd finished for him. Max nodded. "S'ok," Floyd shrugged with a smile.
They rushed outside, being hit with the refreshing but amazingly cold air that was blown off the ocean. In front of the door Max stopped again; his right hand losing its feeling again. "No, no," he said. It always hurt just above the wrist. It hurt like someone was cutting through him...
"Max," He heard a voice at his side, and a hand touch his shoulder. He gasped and turned. "Floyd!" he said. His new friend's face was filled with concern. "Are you OK?" he asked.
Max smiled. "Never felt better," he replied. "Well, I gotta go." He went down Floyd's front steps and ran back to Liza's, turning to wave goodbye. Floyd smiled and waved back, then went back inside.
-_-_-_-_-_-
That night, Maximillian had a horrible dream. He dreamt he was up on a very high place, and he was looking over a precipice. When he looked down, he saw a man hanging from the rock by his right wrist. What caught him to the rock was an iron manacle. Then, another figure appeared. It was funny, but he thought this new figure looked a lot like Floyd. It seemed to him that the two knew each other, because the one who looked like Floyd started sobbing. Then Max heard the hanging man cry out to shoot him with a bow and arrow.
Then, the hanging man looked up.
Max felt sick. Because...
The man looked like him.
The man looked back down, and to Max's horror, his friend had drawn his bow and arrow. Max wanted to cry out, but couldn't. Then the man strung his arrow and bent his bow and cried out, "O King to whom all birds are dear, speed now this feathered shaft, and recall some pity for the Noldor in their need!" There was a dreadful moment when it seemed that he would shoot, but a great eagle suddenly flew up and the man with the arrow mounted- mounted?- him.
He took him to where the other man- Max shuddered because he bore such a resemblance to himself- and tried to free him. When the one on the eagle couldn't free him, the hanging man begged him again to kill him. The man on the eagle drew a long sword. "NO!" Max screamed, but he went unheard and unheeded. Then, the man with the sword cut off his friend's right hand...right above the wrist.
At that moment, Max felt a searing pain where usually his right hand just went numb and wouldn't work. He cried out, and looked at his hand. To his horror, it was separating from his arm. It finally fell off, falling down the precipice.
"NO!"
Max woke up, breathing heavily, sweating, and tears stinging his eyes. His right hand was still attached, but now numb, dead-like, and hurt above the wrist.
He choked back his sobs, going to the window. He pressed his head against the cool glass, and the tears ended up coming. "Why me...?" He muttered bitterly. He stared up at the sky, at the moon and stars. Finally, he gave up and walked out of his bedroom.
He already had pretty decent clothes on. He slipped on his shoes, grabbed a coat, and silently slipped out of the house.
He sighed. Walking as if he was in a dream, Max slowly made his way to the beach. It was chilly out, and what he was wearing wasn't all that thick. In fact, it was pretty thin. Max stared out at the ocean. Why am I so depressed?, he wondered. To keep warm, he started walking. To his surprise he soon found himself at 72nd Street.
Floyd's house.
It was a stupid idea, but Max walked up there anyway. He had gathered that Floyd's bedroom looked out onto the backyard, so he went around the house. Then he tried to get Floyd's attention.
Finally, he grabbed a nearby ladder and climbed up to his friend's bedroom window, and knocked. Max saw him stir, so he knocked a bit harder. Floyd awoke with a start, but upon seeing Max at the window, his expression of fear turned to one of amusement. He came over and opened the window. "Hello," he chirped, not as peppily as during the day.
"Hi," Max attempted a smile.
"What's wrong?" Floyd asked.
Max settled himself on the ladder and told Floyd all about his horrible nightmare, and about the strange things his right hand did. "Haven't you told your parents? Maybe it's a medical condition," his friend suggested.
Max sighed. "I don't want to tell them," he said.
Floyd blinked. "Then why tell me?"
It shocked Floyd a bit, considering the fact he didn't really know his newfound friend very well. He reached over and touched his elbow. "Are you OK?" he asked.
Max was sniffling. "I'm sorry," he said, smiling a small smile. "I guess I need to toughen up, huh?"
The other laughed. "No, no, It's OK."
Silence.
"I'll tell you something." Floyd said, leaning on his arm against the window. "I have nightmares like yours, too. Only not as...vivid." He smiled. "Can I tell you?" he whispered. Max nodded.
"All right," the other boy said. "Tonight... I had a really bad nightmare. It was in a void or a really dark place. Anyway, then I thought I saw you from behind. I called out to you and ran over to you. Then I saw-" -he looked up at Max's face- "your right hand was gone."
Max stiffened. "Gone?" he croaked.
"Like your dream," Floyd nodded. "Only it wasn't bleeding like it was freshly cut. Just no hand. And your left hand was holding something tightly, and it was glowing through your fingers. And you turned around, and..." He swallowed, blinking. "It was horrible. Your face was so worn out, you looked dead tired...you looked like you WERE dead. And," he swallowed again, collecting himself. Max touched his friend's arm. "It's OK," he said.
Floyd nodded. "You were crying," he continued. "But not regular tears. They were red." He stared blankly at Max's face. "Blood tears."
"Oh, my g..." Max stopped. ("Young man, you say the Lord's name in vain and you'll never see the light of day AGAIN!" was one of the few threats Max's mother ever gave.) He grabbed Floyd's arm. Now Floyd was sniffling. "It scared me," he sobbed. "And it hurt, too. I don't know why, but it hurt, it hurt..." Then Max reached over the windowsill to give his friend an awkward hug. He didn't think much of it, because he and Liza had always hugged. To him, it could just be a friend thing. Floyd sniffled and hugged back. "I'm OK now," he said, pulling away. "Then," he continued. "Then you opened your hand. There was this jewel you were holding. It was really bright, brighter than the Sun. Then you said in this tear-choked voice, almost a whisper, 'It hurts, it hurts.' And I reached forward to help you, but you stepped away and out of nowhere came this chasm and you fell right down into it. It scared me so bad."
Floyd's friend blinked. "I died in your dream?" he asked hoarsely. Floyd nodded. Max just stared.
Then, a knock sounded on the door. "Floyd!" A little girl's voice called out. "Floyd!"
"Oh, no, Agnes!" Floyd gasped. He turned to Maximillian.
"I'll get down," his friend nodded. Floyd nodded back. It was strange, he thought, that his new friend could be so unhappy, discouraged, vulnerable- vulnerable, merp- one minute and be so determined, ready-for-anything, strong, happy, etc. the next. Floyd thought, I don't like that "vulnerable" word. He opened the door, revealing his little sister, Agnes. Her hair was black, different from her brother's. "What's the matter, Agnes?" Floyd asked, trying to look and act like he had been aroused from sleep.
"Firstly," the little girl said, "I thought I heard people talking in your room. Are you talking to yourself Floydyboyd?"
Floyd groaned. "No, Agnes. And I TOLD you, DON'T call me 'Floydyboyd.'"
"But it's fun!" Agnes grinned. "But if you weren't talking who was? Are there monsters in you room Floydyboyd?"
"In my head," Floyd said. "And they're going to eat you if you keep calling me that silly name."
"Liar," Agnes said. "Then who was talking, Floydyboyd?"
"The monsters in your room," her big brother snapped. "Debating on how to cook you."
Agnes whined. "Stop it! Who was talking?"
"No one! You were hearing things!"
"Nuh-uh."
"Agnes, will you cut it out? Did you wake me up to tell me you're hearing stuff?"
"No," Agnes said, sticking out her lower lip. "But... Tyler was growling through the wall at me again. Make him stop! Mommy and Daddy don't care when they go night, they just think I'm talking about junk. Mommy sometimes says, 'that's nice, honey, you go tie a bow!'" Her lower lip trembled. "He keeps talking about blood and fresh meat and fresh Agnes and-"
Floyd marched off down the hallway with his own irritated growl. He flung open his brother's bedroom door. "Tyler!" he snapped. "Mum and Dad have TOLD you a THOUSAND TIMES to STOP growling at Agnes like a monster at bedtime!"
"I was not!" Tyler said, his sandy blond, shoulder length hair a mess.
"Was too!" Agnes whined. "About blood and fre-"
"Just shut UP!" Floyd snapped. "Both of you go to SLEEP! Tyler, you need to stop this, this..."
"Gosh, OK!" Tyler snapped back, pulling a blanket over his head. "Jeez!"
Agnes went back to bed and Floyd did too, obviously ticked. That didn't usually happen, yelling bouts. Then he remembered Max. He went to the window. The ladder was put back. Max had gone. Floyd's shoulders sank, crestfallen. He just decided to go back to sleep...and to whatever dark dreams awaited him.
-_-_-_-_-_-
Max didn't make a beeline for home. He wandered the beach, wondering why Agnes had started pounding on Floyd's door. He just hoped the two hadn't been heard and maybe seen. His new friend would bear the brunt of his parent's attack.
The waves came in, small ones, lapping quietly up against shore. It was dark, but Max could see the stars, and the Moon. He couldn't see the ocean, and it was so quiet it was hard to hear it. It was relaxing. Behind him, the streetlights were on and occasionally a car went down the road. Max didn't know how long he stayed there, but suddenly he felt a touch on his shoulder. He gasped and whirled around.
There stood Mike.
"Mike!" Max breathed. "You scared me!"
"What're you doing?" Mike asked, as if his brother hadn't said anything.
The elder's face went blank. He turned back towards the ocean. "I needed to get out..." He murmured.
"What?" the younger asked, confused. "Out of the house? Why?"
Max turned back to his brother. "I had to talk to someone. That's all. All you need to know."
Mike felt a little hurt. His brother was acting unusually cold towards him. Usually he took Mike's side, stood up for him when he couldn't, and was generally kind towards him. Now he was getting a cold shoulder. He was being treated like his other brothers. The hurt was soon replaced with suspicion and fear. "Max," Mike asked. "Are you doing drugs? Did you go see a drug dealer? Max?" His brother didn't answer. "Max!"
"No!" Max said with a small laugh. "I'm not on drugs. I've just... Got a lot on my mind, is all. I'll tell you who I went to talk to if you swear not to tell who it was or that I or you was ever out here tonight. Swear?"
"Swear."
Max smiled. "Okay," said he. "I went to talk to Floyd. You know, Mr. William's- Frederick's- eldest?"
"Ohh," Mike nodded slowly. "Don't you think you should tell Mum and Dad about him? All you need to say is you said hi to this man, he mentioned he had a son your age, and said why don't you come meet him?"
His brother gave him a Look. "Because," he said. "He. Was. A. STRANGER. Earth to Mi-ch-ae-l!"
"Oh, come on," Mike said. "Just make the meeting more abstract. You know, don't put in all the zillion different details. Like the fight stuff," he swallowed. Mike was still feeling guilty over the name-calling and the fight.
Max gave in. "Oh, all right; I guess I will." Then he looked up at Polaris, but the noticed a bright object that seemed to be sailing across the sky. "Is that a plane?" he asked aloud.
"Where? Oh, there, I see it. No, not a plane." Mike shrugged. "Maybe just a shooting star."
Max thought his younger brother was right, and nodded, but something was telling him, no, it wasn't space junk. "What about a UFO?" he grinned. Mike laughed. "Oh, well. Race you back home!" So the two brothers sped off into the night, as the object sailed silently across the sky.
-_-_-_-_-
A/N: please, r/r! also the "blood tears" thing... Once again dealing w/ the Blind Gaurdian song, ok? No weird prophecy thingy or whatever, 'kay? 'kay. Thankies for reading. Gotta go eat now. Bye^-^
"Um, hello," Max stuttered. "Is your mum or dad here?"
The girl nodded and ran off. Pretty soon, a tall woman came to the door, smiling. "You must be Maximillian," she beamed. "Please, come in. I'm Maria. It's lovely to meet you."
Max was a little speechless. He was busy looking around the parts of the house he could see. In a very short amount of time, the family had made the place look like home and some things looked like they were imported from foreign countries. Some peacock feathers sat in an aqua vase, and woodcarvings adorned a wall. "I'll call Floyd," Maria said. She went out of Max's view, calling, "Floyd! Floyd!"
An answer came: "OKAY!" Annoyed, Max thought. Obviously annoyed.
He prepared himself: But soon a longhaired, blond haired boy came running up. "Oh, hello," he grinned. "I'm Floyd." "Max. Maximillian," Max said. There was an awkward moment of silence till Floyd said, "Well... Come on upstairs. My room's all done up already. Anyway... Where do you live?"
"A few streets down."
"Ah. I'm starting school soon. Um, where were you born?"
"England."
"Me too! Um..." They stood there for a second in silence. Then Floyd cleared his throat. "Come on," he said, leading Max up the stairs.
"This," he said, leaning against a door just to the right of the top of the stairs, "Is my room." He slowly opened the door, watching Max's face. When it opened, Max gaped. "How..."
His room was already completely in order. His bed was made up; his dresser was there, books, etc. And it was NEAT and CLEAN, something that was hard to achieve at Max's home. "How- how- how-"
Floyd smiled. "I guess I work fast. I usually do when I learn company's coming."
"But didn't you move in just two days ago?" Max asked.
"How did you know?" Floyd asked, a little shocked.
"My friend lives on the next street down, so.." Max trailed off. Great, he thought. I've ruined everything...
Floyd saw the change in Max's face, a little upset, and said, "Oh, you didn't do anything wrong." He smiled. "If you spied, well... I used to spy a lot, too."
Max nodded. "Um, when are you starting school?"
The other boy sat down on his bed. "Monday," he said. "Come on in and close the door. You hungry?" Max nodded. "This morning, we forgot to make lunches. Those of us who took note of that fact grabbed lunch money before they left."
By that time, Floyd was dangling over his bed trying to reach something under it. "I'm listening," he assured the other. "I'm trying to find... A- ha!" He pulled out a box labeled, "Do NOT open, if you value your life." "My food box," Floyd grinned. "I have to hide it, you know. Don't stand around; you can sit. Come on, sit on the bed."
Max did so, and Floyd pulled out various things from the box. By the looks of it, his new friend had an enormous sweet tooth. Usually, it might've made him sick, but Max was so hungry he didn't care.
"So," Floyd said. "Tell me about yourself."
"Mhmm," Max shook his head, swallowing whatever Floyd had handed him. "You first. Like, what's your last name... Siblings..."
His friend laughed. "Oh, all right!" he said. "My last name is Williams. So it's 'Floyd Williams.' I have a little brother who's twelve, and a little sister who's six."
"Names," grinned Max.
Floyd groaned and flopped down onto his back. "Will you stop interrogating me?" he laughed. "Well, all right; my little brother's Tyler; my little sister's Agnes. Happy now?" He asked, eyeing Max, who nodded, grinning. Floyd rolled his eyes.
Anyway, this went on until Max noticed the time: 5:09. He jumped up, hastily explained he had to get back to Liza's, and grabbed his coat. Floyd followed. "What's wrong?" he asked.
"Dad should be at Liza's any second now!" Max replied. "I hate to say it, but... I didn't tell my parents about you. Or meeting your dad. Because..." He stopped his tracks, feeling guilty.
"He was a stranger." Floyd finished for him. Max nodded. "S'ok," Floyd shrugged with a smile.
They rushed outside, being hit with the refreshing but amazingly cold air that was blown off the ocean. In front of the door Max stopped again; his right hand losing its feeling again. "No, no," he said. It always hurt just above the wrist. It hurt like someone was cutting through him...
"Max," He heard a voice at his side, and a hand touch his shoulder. He gasped and turned. "Floyd!" he said. His new friend's face was filled with concern. "Are you OK?" he asked.
Max smiled. "Never felt better," he replied. "Well, I gotta go." He went down Floyd's front steps and ran back to Liza's, turning to wave goodbye. Floyd smiled and waved back, then went back inside.
-_-_-_-_-_-
That night, Maximillian had a horrible dream. He dreamt he was up on a very high place, and he was looking over a precipice. When he looked down, he saw a man hanging from the rock by his right wrist. What caught him to the rock was an iron manacle. Then, another figure appeared. It was funny, but he thought this new figure looked a lot like Floyd. It seemed to him that the two knew each other, because the one who looked like Floyd started sobbing. Then Max heard the hanging man cry out to shoot him with a bow and arrow.
Then, the hanging man looked up.
Max felt sick. Because...
The man looked like him.
The man looked back down, and to Max's horror, his friend had drawn his bow and arrow. Max wanted to cry out, but couldn't. Then the man strung his arrow and bent his bow and cried out, "O King to whom all birds are dear, speed now this feathered shaft, and recall some pity for the Noldor in their need!" There was a dreadful moment when it seemed that he would shoot, but a great eagle suddenly flew up and the man with the arrow mounted- mounted?- him.
He took him to where the other man- Max shuddered because he bore such a resemblance to himself- and tried to free him. When the one on the eagle couldn't free him, the hanging man begged him again to kill him. The man on the eagle drew a long sword. "NO!" Max screamed, but he went unheard and unheeded. Then, the man with the sword cut off his friend's right hand...right above the wrist.
At that moment, Max felt a searing pain where usually his right hand just went numb and wouldn't work. He cried out, and looked at his hand. To his horror, it was separating from his arm. It finally fell off, falling down the precipice.
"NO!"
Max woke up, breathing heavily, sweating, and tears stinging his eyes. His right hand was still attached, but now numb, dead-like, and hurt above the wrist.
He choked back his sobs, going to the window. He pressed his head against the cool glass, and the tears ended up coming. "Why me...?" He muttered bitterly. He stared up at the sky, at the moon and stars. Finally, he gave up and walked out of his bedroom.
He already had pretty decent clothes on. He slipped on his shoes, grabbed a coat, and silently slipped out of the house.
He sighed. Walking as if he was in a dream, Max slowly made his way to the beach. It was chilly out, and what he was wearing wasn't all that thick. In fact, it was pretty thin. Max stared out at the ocean. Why am I so depressed?, he wondered. To keep warm, he started walking. To his surprise he soon found himself at 72nd Street.
Floyd's house.
It was a stupid idea, but Max walked up there anyway. He had gathered that Floyd's bedroom looked out onto the backyard, so he went around the house. Then he tried to get Floyd's attention.
Finally, he grabbed a nearby ladder and climbed up to his friend's bedroom window, and knocked. Max saw him stir, so he knocked a bit harder. Floyd awoke with a start, but upon seeing Max at the window, his expression of fear turned to one of amusement. He came over and opened the window. "Hello," he chirped, not as peppily as during the day.
"Hi," Max attempted a smile.
"What's wrong?" Floyd asked.
Max settled himself on the ladder and told Floyd all about his horrible nightmare, and about the strange things his right hand did. "Haven't you told your parents? Maybe it's a medical condition," his friend suggested.
Max sighed. "I don't want to tell them," he said.
Floyd blinked. "Then why tell me?"
It shocked Floyd a bit, considering the fact he didn't really know his newfound friend very well. He reached over and touched his elbow. "Are you OK?" he asked.
Max was sniffling. "I'm sorry," he said, smiling a small smile. "I guess I need to toughen up, huh?"
The other laughed. "No, no, It's OK."
Silence.
"I'll tell you something." Floyd said, leaning on his arm against the window. "I have nightmares like yours, too. Only not as...vivid." He smiled. "Can I tell you?" he whispered. Max nodded.
"All right," the other boy said. "Tonight... I had a really bad nightmare. It was in a void or a really dark place. Anyway, then I thought I saw you from behind. I called out to you and ran over to you. Then I saw-" -he looked up at Max's face- "your right hand was gone."
Max stiffened. "Gone?" he croaked.
"Like your dream," Floyd nodded. "Only it wasn't bleeding like it was freshly cut. Just no hand. And your left hand was holding something tightly, and it was glowing through your fingers. And you turned around, and..." He swallowed, blinking. "It was horrible. Your face was so worn out, you looked dead tired...you looked like you WERE dead. And," he swallowed again, collecting himself. Max touched his friend's arm. "It's OK," he said.
Floyd nodded. "You were crying," he continued. "But not regular tears. They were red." He stared blankly at Max's face. "Blood tears."
"Oh, my g..." Max stopped. ("Young man, you say the Lord's name in vain and you'll never see the light of day AGAIN!" was one of the few threats Max's mother ever gave.) He grabbed Floyd's arm. Now Floyd was sniffling. "It scared me," he sobbed. "And it hurt, too. I don't know why, but it hurt, it hurt..." Then Max reached over the windowsill to give his friend an awkward hug. He didn't think much of it, because he and Liza had always hugged. To him, it could just be a friend thing. Floyd sniffled and hugged back. "I'm OK now," he said, pulling away. "Then," he continued. "Then you opened your hand. There was this jewel you were holding. It was really bright, brighter than the Sun. Then you said in this tear-choked voice, almost a whisper, 'It hurts, it hurts.' And I reached forward to help you, but you stepped away and out of nowhere came this chasm and you fell right down into it. It scared me so bad."
Floyd's friend blinked. "I died in your dream?" he asked hoarsely. Floyd nodded. Max just stared.
Then, a knock sounded on the door. "Floyd!" A little girl's voice called out. "Floyd!"
"Oh, no, Agnes!" Floyd gasped. He turned to Maximillian.
"I'll get down," his friend nodded. Floyd nodded back. It was strange, he thought, that his new friend could be so unhappy, discouraged, vulnerable- vulnerable, merp- one minute and be so determined, ready-for-anything, strong, happy, etc. the next. Floyd thought, I don't like that "vulnerable" word. He opened the door, revealing his little sister, Agnes. Her hair was black, different from her brother's. "What's the matter, Agnes?" Floyd asked, trying to look and act like he had been aroused from sleep.
"Firstly," the little girl said, "I thought I heard people talking in your room. Are you talking to yourself Floydyboyd?"
Floyd groaned. "No, Agnes. And I TOLD you, DON'T call me 'Floydyboyd.'"
"But it's fun!" Agnes grinned. "But if you weren't talking who was? Are there monsters in you room Floydyboyd?"
"In my head," Floyd said. "And they're going to eat you if you keep calling me that silly name."
"Liar," Agnes said. "Then who was talking, Floydyboyd?"
"The monsters in your room," her big brother snapped. "Debating on how to cook you."
Agnes whined. "Stop it! Who was talking?"
"No one! You were hearing things!"
"Nuh-uh."
"Agnes, will you cut it out? Did you wake me up to tell me you're hearing stuff?"
"No," Agnes said, sticking out her lower lip. "But... Tyler was growling through the wall at me again. Make him stop! Mommy and Daddy don't care when they go night, they just think I'm talking about junk. Mommy sometimes says, 'that's nice, honey, you go tie a bow!'" Her lower lip trembled. "He keeps talking about blood and fresh meat and fresh Agnes and-"
Floyd marched off down the hallway with his own irritated growl. He flung open his brother's bedroom door. "Tyler!" he snapped. "Mum and Dad have TOLD you a THOUSAND TIMES to STOP growling at Agnes like a monster at bedtime!"
"I was not!" Tyler said, his sandy blond, shoulder length hair a mess.
"Was too!" Agnes whined. "About blood and fre-"
"Just shut UP!" Floyd snapped. "Both of you go to SLEEP! Tyler, you need to stop this, this..."
"Gosh, OK!" Tyler snapped back, pulling a blanket over his head. "Jeez!"
Agnes went back to bed and Floyd did too, obviously ticked. That didn't usually happen, yelling bouts. Then he remembered Max. He went to the window. The ladder was put back. Max had gone. Floyd's shoulders sank, crestfallen. He just decided to go back to sleep...and to whatever dark dreams awaited him.
-_-_-_-_-_-
Max didn't make a beeline for home. He wandered the beach, wondering why Agnes had started pounding on Floyd's door. He just hoped the two hadn't been heard and maybe seen. His new friend would bear the brunt of his parent's attack.
The waves came in, small ones, lapping quietly up against shore. It was dark, but Max could see the stars, and the Moon. He couldn't see the ocean, and it was so quiet it was hard to hear it. It was relaxing. Behind him, the streetlights were on and occasionally a car went down the road. Max didn't know how long he stayed there, but suddenly he felt a touch on his shoulder. He gasped and whirled around.
There stood Mike.
"Mike!" Max breathed. "You scared me!"
"What're you doing?" Mike asked, as if his brother hadn't said anything.
The elder's face went blank. He turned back towards the ocean. "I needed to get out..." He murmured.
"What?" the younger asked, confused. "Out of the house? Why?"
Max turned back to his brother. "I had to talk to someone. That's all. All you need to know."
Mike felt a little hurt. His brother was acting unusually cold towards him. Usually he took Mike's side, stood up for him when he couldn't, and was generally kind towards him. Now he was getting a cold shoulder. He was being treated like his other brothers. The hurt was soon replaced with suspicion and fear. "Max," Mike asked. "Are you doing drugs? Did you go see a drug dealer? Max?" His brother didn't answer. "Max!"
"No!" Max said with a small laugh. "I'm not on drugs. I've just... Got a lot on my mind, is all. I'll tell you who I went to talk to if you swear not to tell who it was or that I or you was ever out here tonight. Swear?"
"Swear."
Max smiled. "Okay," said he. "I went to talk to Floyd. You know, Mr. William's- Frederick's- eldest?"
"Ohh," Mike nodded slowly. "Don't you think you should tell Mum and Dad about him? All you need to say is you said hi to this man, he mentioned he had a son your age, and said why don't you come meet him?"
His brother gave him a Look. "Because," he said. "He. Was. A. STRANGER. Earth to Mi-ch-ae-l!"
"Oh, come on," Mike said. "Just make the meeting more abstract. You know, don't put in all the zillion different details. Like the fight stuff," he swallowed. Mike was still feeling guilty over the name-calling and the fight.
Max gave in. "Oh, all right; I guess I will." Then he looked up at Polaris, but the noticed a bright object that seemed to be sailing across the sky. "Is that a plane?" he asked aloud.
"Where? Oh, there, I see it. No, not a plane." Mike shrugged. "Maybe just a shooting star."
Max thought his younger brother was right, and nodded, but something was telling him, no, it wasn't space junk. "What about a UFO?" he grinned. Mike laughed. "Oh, well. Race you back home!" So the two brothers sped off into the night, as the object sailed silently across the sky.
-_-_-_-_-
A/N: please, r/r! also the "blood tears" thing... Once again dealing w/ the Blind Gaurdian song, ok? No weird prophecy thingy or whatever, 'kay? 'kay. Thankies for reading. Gotta go eat now. Bye^-^