Never Home

            Blake loves lying on the grass. He spreads out his arms and legs and absorbs the moment, the peace, the quiet; absorbs nature and all its beauty. At first the grass is reluctant to hold such weight and retaliates by poking and tickling him with all its little blades. But Blake does not give in and so, a few mumbled curses and deep sighs later, the grass finally settles down and accepts the temporary visitor.

            Blake looks up at the sky; it’s a mixture of a deep pink and a flaming orange. It’s striking. He hums a soft tune as he watches the downy clouds go by. It’s his favorite part of the day, when they migrate, all lined up, one behind the other. The many fluffy shapes fascinate him; there are dogs, horses, angels, and dragons. Bears, knights, aliens, and monkeys. Each one passes by at a steady pace, making sure not to run into the clouds in front of them. They give Blake a quick wave and smile before continuing on their journey into the unknown. When he’s lucky, they even give him a wink. Blake always smiles back.

            A house passes by, reminding him that it’s time to get home. He feels something in his left eye. It hurts. He rubs it. The stinging aggravates. Blake brings the mirror up to his face and lifts his left eyelid. What he sees is repulsive; it’s pinkish, fleshy, and weird-looking. He takes his thumb and forefinger and delicately wraps the tips around the skin-like thing protruding his eye. It’s soft. Blake gently pulls. He pulls and pulls, but four inches later, it’s still coming out. So he keeps pulling until, about six more inches later, the end of the substance finally falls into his hand. “Well, that was gross,” he says to himself as he places the mirror on the ground, hearing the “ouches” and “jerks” that come from the belligerent grass.  Blake is relieved to have removed something so big from his eye and drops the substance to the ground. He never wants to see that sickening, wormlike matter ever again. He looks at his eye in the mirror one last time, just to make sure he didn’t forget to take anything out.

His hair swishes in the wind as he soars through the air. Higher and higher he goes, past the biggest trees and the highest peaks. Up and up, past the tallest buildings and the uppermost clouds. Blake looks down at the miniature objects below. They are a mixture of green dots, of black dots, and of the many different colors that make up the world. From where he is, they seem so unimportant and unreal.   He looks at the huge bird cloud above him holding the other end of the substance. “It’s mine, give it back!” yells Blake. The bird responds with a loud squawking sound, then violently jerks its head. Blake’s heart jumps as his grip on the pinkish thing loosens. He tries to tighten his fingers around it, but it starts to dissolve under his skin. Soon there is nothing left for him to hold on to. “Oh great,” grumbles Blake as he starts to float downward. He positions his legs around a gorgeous horse’s muscular back. The horse turns around and raises his eyebrows in a mixture of shock and confusion. “Shadow!” exclaims Blake.

Butterflies flutter by.  Shadow runs, but they are too fast. She picks up the pace, but that only makes them go even faster. There is a cliff. “Careful!” yells Blake, but it is too late. Blake starts falling into the vast open sea below. There is a big splash. The water is warm. Blake watches the gyrating horse. Her skin starts to turn from its shiny black to a rough, dull yellow. Her two front legs melt into her belly, and her two back legs join together to form a curled tail. A fin sprouts from her back, and she shrinks to the size of about fifteen centimeters. The seahorse, like the clouds, gives him a quick wink before swimming off. “Nooo! Come back!” Blake needs Shadow to help him find his way home and swims after her.

Shadow is nowhere to be seen. She is gone forever, lost in the swirling blue void that surrounds Blake. The vastness is overwhelming. He has to get out of there. He starts swimming in a random direction, hoping that it’s the right way. He journeys over snoring sea anemones, fighting lobsters, an angry sting ray, glowing jellyfish, graceful angelfish, and two jumping dolphins. A school of clownfish swims by, singing a tuneless version of “I Want to Hold Your Fin.” Their grumpy old lady fish teacher tries to quiet them down, claiming that they are disturbing the silence. Further behind, Blake sees a grey fish. It has a really long nose, like a sword.  He’s wearing a backwards cap and a heavy gold necklace with a dollar sign pendant.

“Hey! Excuse me!”

The fish sees Blake, with his clothes clinging to his wet body, and swims over to him. “Sup.Wha’ cho name?”

“Blake.”

“That’s raw, man. I’m Lil’ G.”

“Yeah. Um, can you please tell me how to get to shore?”

“Fool, you be so close.”

“Okay, but how do I get there?”

“Lemme tell you, B-Man. Go to dat fine-lookin’ purple plant ova’ thurr, den start swimmin’ to da right. Okay man?”

“Aaah! I’m worried I won’t be able to find it!”

“You be trippin’ yo.”

“Okay, well thanks for your help.”

“Foshizzle. I’m out.” Lil’ G bounces his fin two times on his chest, kisses it, and then swims away.

“What a weird fish. I wonder why he can’t speak English very well,”  Blake thinks to himself as he follows Lil’ G’s directions.

He has lost his clothes. He runs, covering himself with his hands.  He reaches the edge of a dense forest and climbs into the shower. He turns the knob and is hit by a stream of water. He lathers his hair and rinses out the shampoo. Taking off his wet shirt, pants, boxers, socks, and shoes, he throws them outside the shower. He rinses the soap off his body. He can smell the freshness.

Blake steps out of the shower into a large room. There is a long line and Blake wonders why there are so many people in this mysterious house. They are all naked. He looks around the room. More naked people. On the couches, at the table. Blake feels weird being the only one dressed and strips off his clothes.

“Mooooom!” yells Blake.

A man at the back of the line steps forward. He has tan skin, with deep green eyes and a muscular body. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

 “Mom, where are we?”

 “I don’t know?”

 “Who are all these people?”

“They came to see you, sweetie.”

“Why?”

“Because they need you. Now go get your sister Leila.” Blake doesn’t remember who his sister is and feels terrible. He runs up the stairs. “Leila?”

“Yeah?”

“Can you get these people out of our house?”

“No, they need you.”

“WHY?”

“I don’t know.”

He goes back downstairs and stands in front of the large, impatient crowd. He tells them all to leave. He doesn’t want anyone there, even though it’s not his house.

It’s lonely. Everyone’s gone. The house is empty. He wishes he could go out somewhere, maybe meet some friends. He goes back into the big room. The shower is running. He draws open the curtain and there is someone inside. Blake doesn’t recognize the man. He lifts his arm out in the stranger’s direction. He is just about to touch his shoulder when suddenly Blake is sliding. He is surrounded by white. It’s almost dark out, making it hard to see. He looks down at his feet; they have two flat sticks attached to them. In his hands are two thinner sticks. He is going really fast. So fast there is a whistling noise in his ear. He wishes he could slow down. He’s not sure why or how he got there but his main concern is getting down the hill without falling.  

He starts to get the feel for things and begins turning to control his speed. Left turn. Right turn. Left turn. Right turn. The bottom is near. He can see it. He’s so close. He tries to go faster now. He shakes his body to accelerate, but that slows him down. Frustration starts to build inside of him. His muscles feel like a hundred pounds and moving his legs feels harder than pushing a car.

At the bottom of the hill, there is a large, metal, rounded structure. It’s about seven feet high and four feet wide, and there is an open door on one side.  The bright sun reflects off the shiny exterior. Blake puts on a pair of sunglasses and walks up to the structure. He caresses the smooth surface and can feel the heat radiating off the beautiful façade. “Whoa. What is this?” he asks, even though there is no one around him.

“I’m a travel machine,” comes a monotonous female voice.

“Really? Where do you take people to?”

“Anywhere they want to go. Anywhere in the world. Just come inside me.”

“Cool!” exclaims Blake as he enters through the frame of the metal structure.

“Destination?”

“My home, please.”

“As you wish,” says the machine as the doors slam shut. “Hello, and welcome to the Travel Box. Please refrain from opening the door at any time during your travel, and be sure not to move a single muscle. Thank you.”

Blake is surrounded by a blinding light. His body tingles and a wonderful sensation washes over him. He quickly regains feeling. All he can see is black spots, but within seconds he recovers his vision.

“Thank you.” The doors open and Blake exits to find himself in a place that is completely unfamiliar to him. “Excuse me,” he says to a passerby. He has tan skin, deep green eyes, and a muscular body.  

The man stops, looks at his watch, then sighs. “What?”

“Could you please tell me where I am?”

The man simply looks at him, points to a sign not far away that reads, “Welcome to Myholm,” then walks away quickly.

“Oh crap.” Blake falls to the ground in desperation.