Ten-year-old Bobby Dimas stands in the overgrown wild grass beside a rusted chain link fence. Cars drone by on the other side. His left shoe is planted on a dirt hill carpeted with black ants. A few climb the side of his Nike, but most trek around, forming a distinct shoe-shaped outline on the ground.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bobby sees none of this. He\u2019s the Bionic Man. He\u2019s far away, stopping criminals from robbing a bank.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBobby.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The voice hooks him and drags him back into his quiet corner of the schoolyard.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe need to go.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLeave me alone.\u201d Bobby follows the fence. The dry grass is silent under his feet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBobby.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
What would the Bionic Man do? He would turn around and punch the guy, is what. His bionic arm would make the power sound and the man would go flying.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI said leave me alone! I\u2019m not supposed to talk to strangers.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI\u2019m not a stranger,\u201d the man says, and as if to verify this a squirrel shuttles down a nearby tree, beelines up his body, and nestles on his shoulder. \u201cWe need to go.\u201d The wind flutters his long black jacket like a cape. His eyes are sun-glistening algae on waves.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWho are you?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou can call me Sam.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cPlease leave me alone, Sam.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI’m here to take you home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI can walk home.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sam chuckles.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The playground has emptied out, and Bobby breaks into a run, certain he\u2019s missed final bell. As he does, a film of mottled dirt stretches over the walls of his school like a scab. Moss sprouts from cracks and thickens into throbbing veiny tendrils, which crawl along window frames and up eavestroughs. Bobby stops, and the strange metamorphosis stops too.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s happening to my school?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cIt\u2019s falling away. Don\u2019t run so fast.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI did that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYes you did.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bobby drops cross-legged to the ground, buries his face in his sweaty hands, and cries. This day has been a jumble. He always has breakfast with Mom before she drops him off for school, then waits around the locked blue doors with the other early kids, the clanging bell, then home class, then recess. Today he doesn\u2019t remember having breakfast, doesn\u2019t remember waiting for the bell or being in home room. He doesn\u2019t remember waking up. Today hangs in space, as cold and smooth and lonely as the cement floor in the gym shower. How long has he been out here? An hour? A year?<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sam sits down beside him and wraps a strong arm around his thin shoulders.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know this is hard.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWhat\u2019s happening to me?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYou\u2019re being reborn.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLike a Jehovah\u2019s Witness?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sam laughs and shakes his head. \u201cNot like a Jehovah\u2019s Witness, no. More like you\u2019ve woken from a dream. You have powers now. For one, you\u2019re not stuck in time.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI didn\u2019t mean to wreck my school.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI know. It just happens.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI want it to go back to normal.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOkay then, close your eyes.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bobby closes his eyes. The ground dissolves under his feet and he\u2019s falling; he reaches out and grasps Sam\u2019s arm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNow open them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They\u2019re in the school yard. The building has been restored. Kids run and scream all around them. They are at the base of Big Hill, which looms over them like an ancient king. Countless toboggans have skimmed Big Hill\u2019s slopes. Endless children have had their first kiss in its lush grass. To grades one through six Big Hill is immortal.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bobby remembers what happened, and recess no longer floats in space. Dennis Grady had come down the hill on his banana seat bike like he could fly. He hadn\u2019t seen Bobby, kicking reeds at the bottom.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Suddenly the playground is empty. The sun is going down.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWe have to go,\u201d Sam says, as he takes Bobby\u2019s hand. \u201cHow do you usually wake up in the morning?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cMy mom kisses my forehead.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Sam leans forward and gently kisses Bobby\u2019s forehead. Big Hill rumbles and cracks down the center. Light spills out, forming a trail to Bobby\u2019s feet.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cLet\u2019s run,\u201d Sam says. They do, hand in hand. As they enter Big Hill, the dream world fades behind them like it never was.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bobby focuses his bionic eye. He can see forever.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
<\/p>\n\n\n\n
THE END<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Ten-year-old Bobby Dimas stands in the overgrown wild grass beside a rusted chain link fence. Cars drone by on the other side. His left shoe is planted on a dirt…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"nf_dc_page":"","footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-250","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/wleebrooks.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/250","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/wleebrooks.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/wleebrooks.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wleebrooks.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/wleebrooks.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=250"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/wleebrooks.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/250\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":256,"href":"https:\/\/wleebrooks.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/pages\/250\/revisions\/256"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/wleebrooks.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=250"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}