The Bubble, One

Desert of green and gray,

Hard gray and metal,

Indifference shrouding determination…

Forty-seven and a half miles south of the wrench.

The girl named Cocoa leaned forward to speak to the one driving, “Hey, Nathan, have you ever tasted a jellyfish?”

Nathan, a short guy with bushy brown hair, blue eyes, and a short goatee, turned his worried look to the side, “A jellyfish?”

Tanner, the guy in the passenger seat pointed his thumb back at Cocoa, “She’s telling the truth. She’s eaten a jellyfish before.”

“Raw!” Cocoa added with cheer.

“What did that even taste like, anyway?” Tanner asked.

Cocoa wrapped her arms around the headrest of the driver’s seat and trapped Nathan in a hug. Her arms were too close to his neck, so he gasped, taking one shaky hand from the steering wheel to free her hold. His other shaky hand jerked the wheel to the center after the car swerved to the left.

“Like palm trees, pineapples, and salt water.” the girl named Pudding stated in a monotone mutter from the back seat behind Tanner.

“Thaaat right!” Cocoa cheered and burst out laughing.

“Hey, chill out, will ya?” Nathan scoffed, pulling at her arm.

“You mean it didn’t taste like sand?” Tanner asked.

“Not sand.” Pudding muttered.

“Nope! Nope!” Cocoa squealed.

“Which means you went swimming out to it, then.” Tanner snickered.

“Hunting.” Pudding muttered.

“And I brought it back to shore!” Cocoa cheered.

“In your hand.” Tanner snickered.

“It stung.” Pudding muttered.

“What?” Nathan said. “Why?”

“Evidence.” Pudding muttered.

“Tanner wouldn’t have believed me if I haven’t shown it to Pudding before I ate it.” Cocoa said.

“Would you let go of me?” Nathan said. “You’re close to choking me.”

“Nervous.” Pudding muttered.

“And there’s no way Tanner would think Pudding was lying.” Cocoa said.

“French fries and rootbeer floats.” Pudding muttered, but she did this while hiding most of her blushing face behind the magazine she was reading.

“Mixed together?” Cocoa asked.

“No way.” Tanner said.

“And ever since then,” Cocoa said in Nathan’s ear, “Tanner’s believed everything Pudding has ever said.”

Tanner folded down the sun visor and then unfolded the small mirror in the middle. He aimed it back at Pudding and winked, “Pretty eyes.”

She flushed again and hid her entire face behind the magazine. “Dolphins don’t come to the beach.”

Tanner regarded Nathan and shrugged, “Eh, can’t have everything perfect.”

Pudding’s hands flushed.

“R-right.” Nathan said, “anyway…”

“Anyway!” Cocoa cheered, squeezing too close to his neck again, cutting him off, “Field triiip!”

“I say, Nate,” Tanner said, gazing out his window, “you picked a weird time to take us on a trip.”

“You mean a perfect time, right?” Cocoa giggled. “Bad weather means the beach is no fun, anyway.”

“It wasn’t bad weather down on the beach.” Tanner said.

Cocoa felt Nathan gulp against her forearm.

“Well, it was decent.” Tanner added. “The bad weather is all up this way.”

Cocoa felt Nathan gulp again.

“Oh!” she said, taking her arms from around him and gripping his shoulders, “Sorry about that, Nate.” She started shaking his shoulders, “Didn’t mean to make you nervous.”

“Courtship.” Pudding muttered behind the magazine.

“I’m guessing bad weather effects people differently up here.” Tanner said. “It hasn’t even started raining yet and everybody’s already staying indoors.”

Cocoa felt Tanner gulp even through her grip on his shoulders.

“Though, I guess the people on the beach are just used to water.” Tanner added.

“Preferred location.” Pudding muttered.

Tanner glimpsed Pudding in his mirror again and said, “You clever girl.”

Pudding’s legs flushed red.

“So,” Cocoa said, squeezing Nathan’s shoulders, “where are you taking us?”

“Yeah, do you live in town or outside it?” Tanner asked.

“Quiet space.” Pudding muttered.

Tanner glimpsed her in his mirror, “For you and me, right?”

Somewhere else on Pudding blushed.

“We dressed for the beach, but Nathan’s town doesn’t have a beach.” Cocoa said.

“What about a pool?” Tanner asked.

What a good idea, Nathan thought. “Yeah, actually, I was thinking of taking you guys to a pool in town.”

Cocoa squeezed his shoulders tight and squealed, “Eeeeeeeee! Which one? Which one?”

“Private pool.” Pudding muttered.

Tanner glimpsed her in the mirror, “For you and me, right?”

There was nowhere else on Pudding to flush red. So, she gripped the magazine harder. One of the pages started to rip.

“Well, yeah, maybe a private pool.” Nathan offered.

“We probably won’t have trouble finding one.” Tanner said, “what with everybody staying indoors now. Any pool would be private. Hey, we can take our pick, right? Nate, you can take Cocoa to one while Pudding and I can find our own.” He glimpsed her in his mirror, “Right?”

She ripped one of the pages out of the magazine.

“U-uh, yeah,” Nathan said, “maybe we can do that.”

“Eeeeeeee!” Cocoa squealed, “Let’s find a big one! A hotel pool!”

“You guys can be out in the open all you want,” Tanner said, “but I think I might go for a nice secluded spot. Someone’s back yard,” he glimpsed Pudding in his mirror, “how about that?”

She ripped another page out of the magazine.

“W-we’ll just see when we get there, huh?” Nathan said.

“Tell me something, though.” Tanner said. “Why do people up this way seem to hate water so much?”

Cocoa felt Nathan’s gulp in his shoulders once again.

For several minutes they road in silence, carving a path through all the invisible hate, with the sound of Nathan’s car being the only sound for miles.

Another Bubble, Three

Little brave runaway,

Little caught runaway,

Little runaway got away with it…

Four feet north of the wrench and closing.

Now three feet. Now two feet. Now one. Now the runaway boy reached down and took the wrench in both hands. He knew what would happen as soon as he started to pull, so he braced himself, told himself he could ride it out, and he pulled.

He felt the buzz start right underneath his feet and spread beyond, reaching the power line poles, then to the surrounding trees. The ground rumbled, but he didn’t let go. The power lines bounced and swayed, but he didn’t let go. The trees hissed and shed loose leaves, but he didn’t let go.

The wrench wasn’t letting go either.

So, he pulled harder.

The ground rolled under his feet. The wrench and his hands were a blur. His teeth rattled. Thunder ran up and down the clearing, beating him over the head. The power lines whipped about, slapping at the bubbling air. The trees swayed and shuttered and danced. It rained loose leaves.

Still, the wrench wouldn’t let go.

How much damage could he cause before even freeing the wrench? The world would shake itself to death before he accomplished anything. Or would he accomplish enough?

How far was too far? Earthquakes weren’t good for towns. They weren’t good at all. The longer this shaking continued the worse the situation would get, right? Still, he kept pulling, actually enjoying the way things looked like a blur, the buzz in his hands making them numb, the buzz under his feet, making his whole body numb. He could have been bouncing around and wouldn’t even know it. He enjoyed the sound of the thunder. He enjoyed the sound of the hissing trees, the snapping power lines, his rattling teeth. The chaos!

Then he heard several branches snapping together, snapping loud enough to be heard over the thunder. Like a big crunch!

He flinched. He felt himself flinch, and that seemed to be the buzz kill, literally. No matter how much fun he thought he was having, the sound of destruction was scary. So he quit pulling. Not everything stopped shaking. It took a few seconds for everything to settle down from the chaos.

His feet were the last to settle. He hadn’t released the wrench yet. From all that shaking he felt as though his skin was now glued to the metal surface.

He glanced up and searched the trees in front of him. He glanced left and right down that line, seeing nothing. Would he even be able to spot the broken branches? What would they look like? He pictured what trees have looked like after being struck by lightning, the bark on the inside now visible and bright, like fresh blood exposed from a cut or a scrape. Healthy but wounded.

He saw whole trees on that side of the path.

“Hey, you!” came a voice from behind him.

He jerked his hands free of the wrench and turned around, hiding his hands behind his back. The trees looked normal on that side of the path as well. He glanced left, then right. Nothing.

“Up here, buddy.”

He glanced up.

There near the top of the wall of trees, he saw the round object before he saw the person. The round object of gray metal was being cradled in a gathering of tree branches broken and resting in a crumpled mass. They were so intertwined that they supported the weight of the five-foot wide object.

The object beeped. It blinked. It was shiny. A ball of metal, save for the top third. That part was made of glass, but this glass part, shaped like a dome by itself, was raised back. A canopy of an aircraft, except this one didn’t have wings or jet engines, or a propeller. It was just a ball. Though, the very bottom was hidden by the tangle of broken branches. Maybe that’s where the propulsion engine or whatever was located.

“Yeah, you!” the person called.

The runaway spotted the person hanging over the edge of the top.

“U-uh, y-yes?” the runaway boy asked.

Buzz stared at him, squinting his eyes to get a good look. Then he said almost to himself but loud enough to where the boy heard him, “No, you’re not the one, either.” He stood up, exposing more of himself to the runaway boy, “So, what is it you think you’re doing there?”

The boy glanced over his shoulder, but gazed back up at the guy with the strange haircut before he betrayed anything, “U-uh, n-nothing.”

“Oh, no, there’s definitely something going on here. I picked the waves up on radar. You found it, didn’t you?”

It.

It!

It! It! It!

The wrench!

It was something after all!

“What ya got there, eh?” Buzz asked.

The boy’s eyes betrayed him, glancing to the side.

“Yeah. Behind you.” Buzz chuckled.

“Uh…uh, it’s a…”

“Not a toy, kid.” Buzz finished for him.

The boy’s heart thumped. He was being scolded, but by who? This guy with the weird haircut, what was he? An alien? Secret agent? Was the government able to build things like that? A flying ball?

“Let me guess,” Buzz said, “it’s stuck, isn’t it?”

“Uh,” the boy said. Then he nodded.

Buzz sighed and slumped along the edge of the cockpit of his craft. “Figured. Say, what are you doing here, anyway?”

Oh no, the boy thought. He’s going to tell my parents. Wait. Would they believe him? If he flew to their house in that ball, would they even listen? Or would they call the cops? The fire department? Or, wait! If this guy was a secret agent, the cops would ignore my parents. If this guy was a secret agent, and he knew about the wrench, then I’ve stumbled upon something that’s top secret. He won’t tell my parents. I won’t see my parents! Ever again!

Wait. That doesn’t sound so bad.

“Are you…” he began, “are you going to take me away?”

Buzz arched an eyebrow, “Take you away where?”

“Um, well, I’m not supposed to know that, am I?” the boy said.

Buzz crossed his arms along the edge of the cockpit, “Say, you wouldn’t happen to know a guy with bushy brown hair, blue eyes, a short goatee, with a worried look on his face, would you?”

The boy blinked in confusion. “N-no, sir.”

“Then how come you’re out here with it then?” Buzz asked.

“It?” the boy asked. “Oh, y-you mean…t-the wrench?”

“A wrench?” Buzz asked. “Is that what it is?”

The boy stepped aside to reveal the wrench stuck in the ground.

“Ah,” Buzz said, his back straightening from his slouch, “that’s how he did it, huh? Psh. So silly and yet clever.” He slouched again, “Listen, kid, no one else can pull that thing free except for the guy who put it there, alright? That means don’t go messing with it, or you might screw something up. Don’t want the fate of the world on your shoulders do you?”

“T-the…the world?” the boy asked.

Buzz leaned away from the edge of the cockpit, “Just go on back home and wait for everything to settle down, alright? You’ll know when it’s safe to come back out when it either starts raining or the sun comes out.”

He sat back down and pulled the canopy shut over him.

“Uh! Wait!” the boy raised his hand.

Too late, though, because the ball was already humming, building up its strength.

“I can’t go back home!” the boy cried, but just as he finished his last word, the ball exploded in a flash of light and flying branch pieces. Somewhere above the dust cloud, he saw the blur of humming metal go skyward, but it ascended so fast he didn’t see where it flew off too. It just disappeared.

Then all that debris came raining down on that side of the clearing, and the boy was left alone with the wrench.

“The world?” he whispered. “Something’s wrong with the world?”

Next Chapter: This Bubble (Mediator)