Saturday dawned sunny and chilly. It was a lovely morning, and Max
snatched the chance to casually mention Floyd during breakfast. His mother
nodded and smiled. His father just nodded. "His little sister's Carl's
age," Max mentioned. Carl lifted an eyebrow.
Aaron and Adam were over by Caleb, trying to eat Cheerios. Caleb was extra hyper this morning, since he was going off to play with his two best friends. "Caleb, dear, calm down," their mother said, but the little boy was too bouncy.
Finally, they were released from the breakfast table to go whither they would. Max immediately went off to the streets in the 70s, and Mike tagged along. They dropped in on Liza, and then the three of them went over to Floyd's. Then they all went walking the beach, talking occasionally. The Sun shone down on them, but it was chilly out. They were just talking when they heard someone cry out; coming from the ocean.
"Who would be out swimming today?" Liza shivered, cold.
Nonetheless they ran close to where the waves lapped up onto the sand. Max gasped. "Oh, sh..." He muttered, kicking off his shoes.
"Who is it?!" Liza asked.
"I hate to tell you, but..." Max called back. "It's Caleb!"
"WHAT?!" Mike shrieked, running to join his brother.
"No, stay here!" Max commanded.
"Not on your life! You may need help!" his younger brother snapped.
Not wasting more time to argue, Max turned and ran into the freezing cold salt water. Once he was out far enough, he began to swim.
He saw Caleb, who was barely keeping his head above the water. Him and his two friends were frantically trying to stay afloat. Suddenly, they were pulled under. "No!!" Max gasped. He dove under.
Back on shore, Mike was trying to get away to help Max. "He told you stay here!" Liza argued. "I don't care!" Mike snapped, finally breaking away from Liza and Floyd and running into the ocean. They ran after him. Pretty soon, everyone was out in the freezing water.
"Oh, no..." Liza muttered. "What am I doing?!" The ocean scared her to death and unconsciously she clung to Floyd's arm. But she finally let go, hating anyone to see her as a coward. She felt something tugging at her, and it pulled her and Floyd under.
Meanwhile, Max had come back up for air and was shivering. Looking back towards the shore, he didn't see anyone. He began to panic a bit, but then he saw Mike swim up to him. "I told you to stay on the shore!" he snapped.
Michael just glared at his brother. His voice changed dramatically on its own accord, and he said, "I gave into you once before. I'm not doing it again."
"Mike...?" Max gasped in shock. His younger brother went into something of a swoon, and he caught him just as the undertow kicked in and they were dragged beneath the ocean's surface. Max tried not to breathe, but the undertow had caught him by surprise, and he unknowingly opened his mouth. He couldn't remember anything about "breathing" in water or anything, but soon all went black.
-_-_-_-_-_-
Mike came to first. He spluttered for a second, spitting out water. He realized where he was: the ocean, and that he could not see the shore. Then he noticed his brother next to him, floating as if dead. "Max!" he gasped. He shook the elder violently (no pun intended), but to no avail. "No..." he said, eyes tearing up.
Floyd and Liza finally popped up, gagging on salt water and seaweed. "You OK?" Floyd gasped. Liza nodded.
Mike noticed them. "Liza! Floyd!" he yelled. Max came to. By some miracle, Caleb and his friends came floating up. Immediately, Max started interrogating his younger brother as to why they were in the water in the first place.
"Oh, let them be," Mike smiled, trying to stay afloat. "What matters now is getting back to shore."
"Ohh, buddy," Liza mumbled.
Max's shoulders fell. "Don't boats come out here?" he asked in a ghost of a voice. The next second he was underwater then coming back up. "Did I scare you?" He grinned. "That was pointless," Liza pointed out. "I know," Max grinned.
"Did you take your medicine today...?" Liza joked, poking her friend.
"No," Max grinned.
"Heck of a time to be playing 'round," Floyd commented. "I'm cold and tired. I can't swim for long like you fishes."
"Well, I can't!" Caleb pouted. "But swimmin' back prolly'll kill us off, so why not jus' wait here?"
Mike snapped, "Caleb!"
"Well, it's true!"
"I don't care. Don't even bring up the possibility." Mike's voice softened; like his mother's would after a rare outburst.
Liza suddenly said, "Hey! Is that a boat? Ship? Whatever?"
And then they all saw it-it was a boat coming up next to them. It was a motorboat, and it came to a dead slow, and finally a stop. But when they jumped onboard, they saw no one. "Oh, great," Liza muttered. "A smegging ghost boat."
"What'd you say?" Max asked, his head under the dashboard, calling "helloo- oo-oo."
"I said, 'OH, GREAT. A SMEGGING GHOST BOAT.'" Liza reiterated louder.
Max scowled. "You don't have to yell. Anyways, I've found the manual. Now let's start her up." The strange boat started and roared off.
It took awhile to get back to shore, and when they did, they didn't know where to put the boat, and Max couldn't find his shoes. They had all dried on the boat, but when Max finally found his shoes, they were soaking wet. They left the boat and ran off, swearing not to tell the grown ups about their weird little adventure.
-_-_-_-_-
The next day, Sunday, came in dreary, with plenty of rain. Max slept in, untroubled by horrifying nightmares for once. Instead, it was Michael who had been having insomnia because of horrible dreams.
He woke up at 3:45 AM, rather shocked. His dream had made no sense except that it dealt a lot with blood and such, and such an overwhelming feeling of sadness, loss, pain, guilt, grief... Upon waking up, he almost burst into tears, he was so sad. And it woke Max up. At first he thought it was Carl when he realized it (the crying) was too soft and muffled to be Carl. He got up and went to Mike's bedroom first by instinct, and saw his slightly younger brother curled up in bed, his face in his pillow. His shoulders shook. "Hey, Mike," Max said going to his brother's bedside.
"What?" A choked, muffled answer came.
"You OK?" Max asked softly, unusual for him.
Mike lifted his tearstained face. "No," he sniffled. "I had the worst dream..."
Max thought his heart stopped. "Go on," he fairly croaked, earning him a Look from his younger brother.
"It was so confusing," Mike continued. "But it was so sad, all the same. Like a lot of people were dead and dying. And then-" he choked. "I was all alone. I thought there might be others left, but I felt as if I couldn't or shouldn't face them."
Max nodded absentmindedly. Then he snapped out of his daze. "Well, are you OK now?"
"Were you even LISTENING?" his younger brother asked.
"Of course!" Max replied. "Why wouldn't I?"
"You zoned out," Mike said.
"Doesn't mean I wasn't listening," the elder (NO PUN) said. "Now, come on; get back to sleep. OK?"
Michael sighed. "All right, I am," said he.
When he woke up, the dreary weather didn't improve anything.
"Rain's boring," Carl said by way of greeting when Mike walked into the kitchen. He was trying to get down some cereal, but the box slipped and it went everywhere. Mike retraced his steps to get the vacuum and vacuumed it up. "Be more careful, 'kay?" he said dully.
Carl stared. "Um, OK," he said. His eyes were wide.
In his present zombie-like state, Mike decided he should just stay in his bedroom. First he peeked into Max's room. His older brother was sound asleep. He emitted a low sigh. He was wishing Max was up already. He had a distinct feeling he hadn't listened to Mike's account of his dream last night. Instead, he went back into his room, closed the door, and stood for a second. Then he sat down at his desk and started drawing.
-_-_-_-_-
Max woke up only two minutes before twelve PM. He smiled and stretched; glad for once he had been able to sleep in. What's more, he had had no strange dreams. Then he remembered Mike's dream and how distraught his brother had been. That dampened his mood a bit, that and the rain.
He walked out after dressing, and greeted Carl, who was sitting at the table eating cereal staring at the back of the cereal box. "Max, what's wrong with Mike?" the little kindergartener asked.
"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong with him," Max said.
"Then why did he talk weird to me?" Carl asked.
"What?"
"He talked weird to me!"
"What does that MEAN?"
When Carl shrugged, Max just shook his head and went off to his brother's room.
The closed door made him wonder. Mike usually didn't close his door. It wasn't like him. He gently knocked. "Come in," came the dull answer. So that's what Carl had meant, Max realized as he opened the door and stepped in.
Mike looked up from his desk and turned and smiled. "Hi," he said.
The smile looked a little forced. "Hi, Mike. You OK?" Max asked. "Carl said you were talking weird." He eyed his brother.
"Weird?" the other sort of stuttered.
"Mike, why are you talking like this? You act like you don't know me!" Max exclaimed. "What's wrong with you?"
Mike handed him three sheets of paper. "This," his voice cracked. "Close the door." Max did and then looked at the papers. They were drawings, actually.
"Oh, my..." Max said. All were horribly gruesome, or depicting some drear mood in some way, be it loneliness or death...
Then it struck him. "From your dream," Max said. Now it was his voice's turn to crack. Mike nodded. "I had to draw it," he whispered. "I don't know why; just had to." He looked at his brother's pale face. "What's wrong?"
"Firstly, I didn't know how well you drew. Secondly," the older brother drew in his breath and returned his younger brother's gaze. The words wouldn't come. So he just shook his head.
-_-_-_-_-_-
"Floydy! Floydy! Wake up!"
Floyd pulled his blanket over his head. "Go away, Agnes," he said.
Agnes pouted. "That's mean." She bounced on Floyd, making him cry out. "God, Agnes, what's your problem?" he snapped.
The little girl gasped. "You said His name in vain," said she. "I'm gonna tell Moo-oommy..." She inched towards the door. Floyd jumped up.
"OK, OK, I'm sorry Agnes, I'll get up. Just don't tell Mom I said His name in vain. PLEASE," Floyd pleaded. Then he took out his Secret Weapon. "Lollipop?" he asked, handing it out towards his little sister. She squealed with delight and took it. She ran to the top of the stairs and called out:
"Mommy!"
Floyd's heart stopped. She promised she wouldn't tell; he'd get her for it-
"Floydyboyd's up!" Agnes flashed a grin, stuck the lollipop in her trap (as in mouth), and bounced down the stairs.
Floyd breathed a sigh of relief and put on some socks. Their mother forbid them to say God's name in vain. It was so hard sometimes, though. A lot of other kids said it so it might end up burned into your brain and you may say it without thinking. Also, sometimes Floyd was so frustrated it just came out. Not like his mother would listen, much less understand. She'd hire a firing squad before he could say another word.
It was depressing to see rain outside. But Floyd just decided to smile and be happy. It was Sunday, anyway. He'd better enjoy himself before it was time for him to go back to school. So he, too, bounced downstairs. He didn't know why he felt so happy, he just was.
His mother was in the kitchen, making cinnamon rolls and two sticky buns. Floyd made a face. His mom and Tyler loved sticky buns to death. He hated them to death. He wondered if Max liked them.
Max. It was the first time he'd thought of his new friend this morning. During yesterday's little adventure though, he felt more than ever as if he'd known Max for years on end. But that couldn't be.
"Hi, honey," his mother greeted him cheerily. "Hi, Mom," Floyd said, draping himself over a dining room chair. "Hey, Mom?" he asked.
"Yes dear?"
"Can I run over to my friend's house real quick?" Floyd felt his stomach flip. He had had another dream again last night.
"Why?" his mother asked, a confused look on her face. "Friend? What friend? Oh, Max?"
"Yeah, him," Floyd said. "I think I...lent him something I need back."
"Well, OK dear. But hurry up. And if they're eating breakfast, ask if you could get whatever it is later."
"Will do!" Floyd called, slipping on his shoes and going out the door.
-_-_-_-_-
Not more than a few minutes later, Floyd stood outside the door to Max's house. He felt anxiety creep into him. Why, he didn't know. He finally knocked.
A few seconds later the door opened to reveal a woman. "Yes? Oh, hello there," she smiled. "May I ask who you are?"
She seemed nice to Floyd. "I'm Floyd Williams. Max's friend. I just moved in a while ago."
"Max? All right, hold on a sec," she said, closing the door but not securely.
Soon, Max flung open the door. "Yeah? Oh, Floyd," he said. His eyes were red.
"What's wrong?" Floyd asked, concerned.
Max grabbed his friend's shoulder and came outside. They sat down on the steps. "Mike had a dream," he said shakily. "And he drew these pictures..." Tears leapt to his eyes and he looked at Floyd. "I swear, Floyd, I swear... I dunno what I swear."
Floyd awkwardly patted Max's back. "This never happened to him," Max went on. "He was always this soft spoken little kid- OK, not little kid- who just seemed so happy and carefree... I don't know if it's the fight or what." Floyd noticed his friend's right hand go limp. It was noticeable only because he was holding it up near his face. One second it was strong, the next it flopped. Max went on. "He never used to have these dreams. They're like mine."
"When did you start having the dreams?" Floyd asked. His voice was only a whisper.
"Ever since I was really little."
Floyd nodded. Then, "Is your hand OK?"
"What?"
"Your right hand. It looked a little....limp."
Max smiled wryly. "Oh. That." He gingerly held his right hand with his left. "It does that a lot. Ever since I was little, too. Mostly when I wake up from those dreams. Or nightmares."
Oh, God, Floyd prayed in his heart. Please help Max. Did he ever have a joyful moment? Please God, please, please, please, PLEASE. I'm sorry I said your name in vain; just please help him. Then a word came into his head: Iluvatar.
Iluvatar?
Max snapped him back to the present. He had said, "So, anyway, what's up, Floyd? Why'd you come over? When it's raining? I'm sure glad we have a roof over our front steps... Floyd? Floyd!" Floyd gasped.
"You zoned out," Max said. "Are YOU OK?"
Floyd nodded. "Just fine," he said. Max giggled.
"What?"
Max giggled, "Your voice sounded funny, is all." He shook his head. "Anyway, did you even hear my question?"
"A little. Not really well."
"Why'd you come over? What's up?"
Floyd gulped. It had been another dream. But now he wasn't sure if he should tell his friend. He seemed so distraught. "Oh," he said. "Oh, right. Um..." He fumbled in his jacket pocket- it was cold out- and found his school schedule- all ready crumpled and ripped. "Just wondering if you were in any of my classes." He grinned. He hoped it was believable. He handed the schedule to Max, who took it. He smiled and gave Floyd a Look, a "you're weird, but it's funny" kind of Look. Then he looked at the schedule.
"Hey!" He said. "You've got second period and fifth with Liza!" He gave him a fake scowl. "Hey!" he repeated.
Floyd laughed. Max was cheering up, at least a bit. And his right hand wasn't limp anymore. "Well?" he asked.
"You've got first, third, and... Do I have Mrs. Glickinson for third period?" Max squinted, trying to remember. "No. No. Yes? No. No, I think that's all. First and third."
"Oh. OK," Floyd said, marking those classes with a pencil as either an "L" or an "M."
"Uhhhm, that's only A day. Lemme check B day," said Max's voice at his side. Floyd handed him the schedule and the pencil. Max marked the B day classes and handed it all back to Floyd. Suddenly, a voice from inside Max's house called, "Max! Time for breakfast! Carl, I don't care if you ate cereal, come eat this breakfast with us!"
Max sighed. "OK!" he called. Then he said to Floyd: "Maybe we can get together today?"
Floyd nodded. "I don't see why not."
"I'll have my people call your people," Max laughed and went back in, waving to Floyd. Floyd waved back, already walking back home.
-_-_-_-_-_-
It was much later, 12:00 PM. Chris and Mike had been sent off on a mission: get groceries at the 64th Street Market.
Max had gone off to Floyd's at the same time they had left the house. Most of the walk, both brothers had been silent, paying attention to crossing roads and not bumping into other walkers, if anyone else was out it this weather. Then Chris said, "Come nighttime, it's going to be 'dark, dank, and dreary*.'" Mike laughed.
"Do you know this Floyd guy who's friends with Max?" Chris asked. Mike nodded. "What's he like?"
"He's nice," Mike said. Then he changed the subject. "Have you noticed how depressed Max seems lately?"
"Depressed?" Chris asked, taken aback by the question. Mike started to sing softly:
I've seen the moon
And the first sunrise
I'll leave it to the memories
And kiss the wind goodbye
For the Eldar
I'm trapped inside this dream
Of the Eldar's
Song of doom
I've tasted poison
When I drank the wine of fate
But the fear was in my heart
I realized too late
The house of spirits call
chorus:
For the Eldar
I'm trapped inside this dream
Of the Eldar's
Song of the doom
High's the fee
Soon my spirit will return
Welcome dawn
Your light will take me home
I say farewell
To the Eldar
I'm trapped inside this dream
Of the Eldar's
Song of doom
"Where'd that come from?" Chris said suddenly, surprised.
"I-I'm not sure," Mike stuttered. "The words just came, and..." His voice trailed off, and he sighed.
They finally reached 64th Street, and the market. It was a grocery store, really. They went in and got what was the shopping list, and then some.
It was when they were beginning to cross a street that Chris wasn't paying attention. He walked right out into the street and a car came rushing towards him. Mike saw it and screamed to his brother.
But it was too late.
(* the song in this fic was by blind guardian, not me)
*= this quote is from my little pony: the movie. ( just had to put it in!! ."before the little ponies came along and made everything nice and green.";lol
Aaron and Adam were over by Caleb, trying to eat Cheerios. Caleb was extra hyper this morning, since he was going off to play with his two best friends. "Caleb, dear, calm down," their mother said, but the little boy was too bouncy.
Finally, they were released from the breakfast table to go whither they would. Max immediately went off to the streets in the 70s, and Mike tagged along. They dropped in on Liza, and then the three of them went over to Floyd's. Then they all went walking the beach, talking occasionally. The Sun shone down on them, but it was chilly out. They were just talking when they heard someone cry out; coming from the ocean.
"Who would be out swimming today?" Liza shivered, cold.
Nonetheless they ran close to where the waves lapped up onto the sand. Max gasped. "Oh, sh..." He muttered, kicking off his shoes.
"Who is it?!" Liza asked.
"I hate to tell you, but..." Max called back. "It's Caleb!"
"WHAT?!" Mike shrieked, running to join his brother.
"No, stay here!" Max commanded.
"Not on your life! You may need help!" his younger brother snapped.
Not wasting more time to argue, Max turned and ran into the freezing cold salt water. Once he was out far enough, he began to swim.
He saw Caleb, who was barely keeping his head above the water. Him and his two friends were frantically trying to stay afloat. Suddenly, they were pulled under. "No!!" Max gasped. He dove under.
Back on shore, Mike was trying to get away to help Max. "He told you stay here!" Liza argued. "I don't care!" Mike snapped, finally breaking away from Liza and Floyd and running into the ocean. They ran after him. Pretty soon, everyone was out in the freezing water.
"Oh, no..." Liza muttered. "What am I doing?!" The ocean scared her to death and unconsciously she clung to Floyd's arm. But she finally let go, hating anyone to see her as a coward. She felt something tugging at her, and it pulled her and Floyd under.
Meanwhile, Max had come back up for air and was shivering. Looking back towards the shore, he didn't see anyone. He began to panic a bit, but then he saw Mike swim up to him. "I told you to stay on the shore!" he snapped.
Michael just glared at his brother. His voice changed dramatically on its own accord, and he said, "I gave into you once before. I'm not doing it again."
"Mike...?" Max gasped in shock. His younger brother went into something of a swoon, and he caught him just as the undertow kicked in and they were dragged beneath the ocean's surface. Max tried not to breathe, but the undertow had caught him by surprise, and he unknowingly opened his mouth. He couldn't remember anything about "breathing" in water or anything, but soon all went black.
-_-_-_-_-_-
Mike came to first. He spluttered for a second, spitting out water. He realized where he was: the ocean, and that he could not see the shore. Then he noticed his brother next to him, floating as if dead. "Max!" he gasped. He shook the elder violently (no pun intended), but to no avail. "No..." he said, eyes tearing up.
Floyd and Liza finally popped up, gagging on salt water and seaweed. "You OK?" Floyd gasped. Liza nodded.
Mike noticed them. "Liza! Floyd!" he yelled. Max came to. By some miracle, Caleb and his friends came floating up. Immediately, Max started interrogating his younger brother as to why they were in the water in the first place.
"Oh, let them be," Mike smiled, trying to stay afloat. "What matters now is getting back to shore."
"Ohh, buddy," Liza mumbled.
Max's shoulders fell. "Don't boats come out here?" he asked in a ghost of a voice. The next second he was underwater then coming back up. "Did I scare you?" He grinned. "That was pointless," Liza pointed out. "I know," Max grinned.
"Did you take your medicine today...?" Liza joked, poking her friend.
"No," Max grinned.
"Heck of a time to be playing 'round," Floyd commented. "I'm cold and tired. I can't swim for long like you fishes."
"Well, I can't!" Caleb pouted. "But swimmin' back prolly'll kill us off, so why not jus' wait here?"
Mike snapped, "Caleb!"
"Well, it's true!"
"I don't care. Don't even bring up the possibility." Mike's voice softened; like his mother's would after a rare outburst.
Liza suddenly said, "Hey! Is that a boat? Ship? Whatever?"
And then they all saw it-it was a boat coming up next to them. It was a motorboat, and it came to a dead slow, and finally a stop. But when they jumped onboard, they saw no one. "Oh, great," Liza muttered. "A smegging ghost boat."
"What'd you say?" Max asked, his head under the dashboard, calling "helloo- oo-oo."
"I said, 'OH, GREAT. A SMEGGING GHOST BOAT.'" Liza reiterated louder.
Max scowled. "You don't have to yell. Anyways, I've found the manual. Now let's start her up." The strange boat started and roared off.
It took awhile to get back to shore, and when they did, they didn't know where to put the boat, and Max couldn't find his shoes. They had all dried on the boat, but when Max finally found his shoes, they were soaking wet. They left the boat and ran off, swearing not to tell the grown ups about their weird little adventure.
-_-_-_-_-
The next day, Sunday, came in dreary, with plenty of rain. Max slept in, untroubled by horrifying nightmares for once. Instead, it was Michael who had been having insomnia because of horrible dreams.
He woke up at 3:45 AM, rather shocked. His dream had made no sense except that it dealt a lot with blood and such, and such an overwhelming feeling of sadness, loss, pain, guilt, grief... Upon waking up, he almost burst into tears, he was so sad. And it woke Max up. At first he thought it was Carl when he realized it (the crying) was too soft and muffled to be Carl. He got up and went to Mike's bedroom first by instinct, and saw his slightly younger brother curled up in bed, his face in his pillow. His shoulders shook. "Hey, Mike," Max said going to his brother's bedside.
"What?" A choked, muffled answer came.
"You OK?" Max asked softly, unusual for him.
Mike lifted his tearstained face. "No," he sniffled. "I had the worst dream..."
Max thought his heart stopped. "Go on," he fairly croaked, earning him a Look from his younger brother.
"It was so confusing," Mike continued. "But it was so sad, all the same. Like a lot of people were dead and dying. And then-" he choked. "I was all alone. I thought there might be others left, but I felt as if I couldn't or shouldn't face them."
Max nodded absentmindedly. Then he snapped out of his daze. "Well, are you OK now?"
"Were you even LISTENING?" his younger brother asked.
"Of course!" Max replied. "Why wouldn't I?"
"You zoned out," Mike said.
"Doesn't mean I wasn't listening," the elder (NO PUN) said. "Now, come on; get back to sleep. OK?"
Michael sighed. "All right, I am," said he.
When he woke up, the dreary weather didn't improve anything.
"Rain's boring," Carl said by way of greeting when Mike walked into the kitchen. He was trying to get down some cereal, but the box slipped and it went everywhere. Mike retraced his steps to get the vacuum and vacuumed it up. "Be more careful, 'kay?" he said dully.
Carl stared. "Um, OK," he said. His eyes were wide.
In his present zombie-like state, Mike decided he should just stay in his bedroom. First he peeked into Max's room. His older brother was sound asleep. He emitted a low sigh. He was wishing Max was up already. He had a distinct feeling he hadn't listened to Mike's account of his dream last night. Instead, he went back into his room, closed the door, and stood for a second. Then he sat down at his desk and started drawing.
-_-_-_-_-
Max woke up only two minutes before twelve PM. He smiled and stretched; glad for once he had been able to sleep in. What's more, he had had no strange dreams. Then he remembered Mike's dream and how distraught his brother had been. That dampened his mood a bit, that and the rain.
He walked out after dressing, and greeted Carl, who was sitting at the table eating cereal staring at the back of the cereal box. "Max, what's wrong with Mike?" the little kindergartener asked.
"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong with him," Max said.
"Then why did he talk weird to me?" Carl asked.
"What?"
"He talked weird to me!"
"What does that MEAN?"
When Carl shrugged, Max just shook his head and went off to his brother's room.
The closed door made him wonder. Mike usually didn't close his door. It wasn't like him. He gently knocked. "Come in," came the dull answer. So that's what Carl had meant, Max realized as he opened the door and stepped in.
Mike looked up from his desk and turned and smiled. "Hi," he said.
The smile looked a little forced. "Hi, Mike. You OK?" Max asked. "Carl said you were talking weird." He eyed his brother.
"Weird?" the other sort of stuttered.
"Mike, why are you talking like this? You act like you don't know me!" Max exclaimed. "What's wrong with you?"
Mike handed him three sheets of paper. "This," his voice cracked. "Close the door." Max did and then looked at the papers. They were drawings, actually.
"Oh, my..." Max said. All were horribly gruesome, or depicting some drear mood in some way, be it loneliness or death...
Then it struck him. "From your dream," Max said. Now it was his voice's turn to crack. Mike nodded. "I had to draw it," he whispered. "I don't know why; just had to." He looked at his brother's pale face. "What's wrong?"
"Firstly, I didn't know how well you drew. Secondly," the older brother drew in his breath and returned his younger brother's gaze. The words wouldn't come. So he just shook his head.
-_-_-_-_-_-
"Floydy! Floydy! Wake up!"
Floyd pulled his blanket over his head. "Go away, Agnes," he said.
Agnes pouted. "That's mean." She bounced on Floyd, making him cry out. "God, Agnes, what's your problem?" he snapped.
The little girl gasped. "You said His name in vain," said she. "I'm gonna tell Moo-oommy..." She inched towards the door. Floyd jumped up.
"OK, OK, I'm sorry Agnes, I'll get up. Just don't tell Mom I said His name in vain. PLEASE," Floyd pleaded. Then he took out his Secret Weapon. "Lollipop?" he asked, handing it out towards his little sister. She squealed with delight and took it. She ran to the top of the stairs and called out:
"Mommy!"
Floyd's heart stopped. She promised she wouldn't tell; he'd get her for it-
"Floydyboyd's up!" Agnes flashed a grin, stuck the lollipop in her trap (as in mouth), and bounced down the stairs.
Floyd breathed a sigh of relief and put on some socks. Their mother forbid them to say God's name in vain. It was so hard sometimes, though. A lot of other kids said it so it might end up burned into your brain and you may say it without thinking. Also, sometimes Floyd was so frustrated it just came out. Not like his mother would listen, much less understand. She'd hire a firing squad before he could say another word.
It was depressing to see rain outside. But Floyd just decided to smile and be happy. It was Sunday, anyway. He'd better enjoy himself before it was time for him to go back to school. So he, too, bounced downstairs. He didn't know why he felt so happy, he just was.
His mother was in the kitchen, making cinnamon rolls and two sticky buns. Floyd made a face. His mom and Tyler loved sticky buns to death. He hated them to death. He wondered if Max liked them.
Max. It was the first time he'd thought of his new friend this morning. During yesterday's little adventure though, he felt more than ever as if he'd known Max for years on end. But that couldn't be.
"Hi, honey," his mother greeted him cheerily. "Hi, Mom," Floyd said, draping himself over a dining room chair. "Hey, Mom?" he asked.
"Yes dear?"
"Can I run over to my friend's house real quick?" Floyd felt his stomach flip. He had had another dream again last night.
"Why?" his mother asked, a confused look on her face. "Friend? What friend? Oh, Max?"
"Yeah, him," Floyd said. "I think I...lent him something I need back."
"Well, OK dear. But hurry up. And if they're eating breakfast, ask if you could get whatever it is later."
"Will do!" Floyd called, slipping on his shoes and going out the door.
-_-_-_-_-
Not more than a few minutes later, Floyd stood outside the door to Max's house. He felt anxiety creep into him. Why, he didn't know. He finally knocked.
A few seconds later the door opened to reveal a woman. "Yes? Oh, hello there," she smiled. "May I ask who you are?"
She seemed nice to Floyd. "I'm Floyd Williams. Max's friend. I just moved in a while ago."
"Max? All right, hold on a sec," she said, closing the door but not securely.
Soon, Max flung open the door. "Yeah? Oh, Floyd," he said. His eyes were red.
"What's wrong?" Floyd asked, concerned.
Max grabbed his friend's shoulder and came outside. They sat down on the steps. "Mike had a dream," he said shakily. "And he drew these pictures..." Tears leapt to his eyes and he looked at Floyd. "I swear, Floyd, I swear... I dunno what I swear."
Floyd awkwardly patted Max's back. "This never happened to him," Max went on. "He was always this soft spoken little kid- OK, not little kid- who just seemed so happy and carefree... I don't know if it's the fight or what." Floyd noticed his friend's right hand go limp. It was noticeable only because he was holding it up near his face. One second it was strong, the next it flopped. Max went on. "He never used to have these dreams. They're like mine."
"When did you start having the dreams?" Floyd asked. His voice was only a whisper.
"Ever since I was really little."
Floyd nodded. Then, "Is your hand OK?"
"What?"
"Your right hand. It looked a little....limp."
Max smiled wryly. "Oh. That." He gingerly held his right hand with his left. "It does that a lot. Ever since I was little, too. Mostly when I wake up from those dreams. Or nightmares."
Oh, God, Floyd prayed in his heart. Please help Max. Did he ever have a joyful moment? Please God, please, please, please, PLEASE. I'm sorry I said your name in vain; just please help him. Then a word came into his head: Iluvatar.
Iluvatar?
Max snapped him back to the present. He had said, "So, anyway, what's up, Floyd? Why'd you come over? When it's raining? I'm sure glad we have a roof over our front steps... Floyd? Floyd!" Floyd gasped.
"You zoned out," Max said. "Are YOU OK?"
Floyd nodded. "Just fine," he said. Max giggled.
"What?"
Max giggled, "Your voice sounded funny, is all." He shook his head. "Anyway, did you even hear my question?"
"A little. Not really well."
"Why'd you come over? What's up?"
Floyd gulped. It had been another dream. But now he wasn't sure if he should tell his friend. He seemed so distraught. "Oh," he said. "Oh, right. Um..." He fumbled in his jacket pocket- it was cold out- and found his school schedule- all ready crumpled and ripped. "Just wondering if you were in any of my classes." He grinned. He hoped it was believable. He handed the schedule to Max, who took it. He smiled and gave Floyd a Look, a "you're weird, but it's funny" kind of Look. Then he looked at the schedule.
"Hey!" He said. "You've got second period and fifth with Liza!" He gave him a fake scowl. "Hey!" he repeated.
Floyd laughed. Max was cheering up, at least a bit. And his right hand wasn't limp anymore. "Well?" he asked.
"You've got first, third, and... Do I have Mrs. Glickinson for third period?" Max squinted, trying to remember. "No. No. Yes? No. No, I think that's all. First and third."
"Oh. OK," Floyd said, marking those classes with a pencil as either an "L" or an "M."
"Uhhhm, that's only A day. Lemme check B day," said Max's voice at his side. Floyd handed him the schedule and the pencil. Max marked the B day classes and handed it all back to Floyd. Suddenly, a voice from inside Max's house called, "Max! Time for breakfast! Carl, I don't care if you ate cereal, come eat this breakfast with us!"
Max sighed. "OK!" he called. Then he said to Floyd: "Maybe we can get together today?"
Floyd nodded. "I don't see why not."
"I'll have my people call your people," Max laughed and went back in, waving to Floyd. Floyd waved back, already walking back home.
-_-_-_-_-_-
It was much later, 12:00 PM. Chris and Mike had been sent off on a mission: get groceries at the 64th Street Market.
Max had gone off to Floyd's at the same time they had left the house. Most of the walk, both brothers had been silent, paying attention to crossing roads and not bumping into other walkers, if anyone else was out it this weather. Then Chris said, "Come nighttime, it's going to be 'dark, dank, and dreary*.'" Mike laughed.
"Do you know this Floyd guy who's friends with Max?" Chris asked. Mike nodded. "What's he like?"
"He's nice," Mike said. Then he changed the subject. "Have you noticed how depressed Max seems lately?"
"Depressed?" Chris asked, taken aback by the question. Mike started to sing softly:
I've seen the moon
And the first sunrise
I'll leave it to the memories
And kiss the wind goodbye
For the Eldar
I'm trapped inside this dream
Of the Eldar's
Song of doom
I've tasted poison
When I drank the wine of fate
But the fear was in my heart
I realized too late
The house of spirits call
chorus:
For the Eldar
I'm trapped inside this dream
Of the Eldar's
Song of the doom
High's the fee
Soon my spirit will return
Welcome dawn
Your light will take me home
I say farewell
To the Eldar
I'm trapped inside this dream
Of the Eldar's
Song of doom
"Where'd that come from?" Chris said suddenly, surprised.
"I-I'm not sure," Mike stuttered. "The words just came, and..." His voice trailed off, and he sighed.
They finally reached 64th Street, and the market. It was a grocery store, really. They went in and got what was the shopping list, and then some.
It was when they were beginning to cross a street that Chris wasn't paying attention. He walked right out into the street and a car came rushing towards him. Mike saw it and screamed to his brother.
But it was too late.
(* the song in this fic was by blind guardian, not me)
*= this quote is from my little pony: the movie. ( just had to put it in!! ."before the little ponies came along and made everything nice and green.";lol