The Analog Wanderer
By Scott Coon
There once was a boy born into a world where he could have anything he wanted, become anything he could imagine, just by thinking about it, and he found it all very upsetting…
CHAPTER 2: Interdimensional Beards
When Melvin woke the next morning, his brain felt weird. As he’d slept, he’d learned running, swimming, survival in the wild, and urban survival through time. But the weird part was the theorems, axioms, and formulas that rolled before his eyes like movie credits. The weight of the knowledge crushed the air from his lungs. Melvin squeezed his eyes tight and started to count. The mathematical cascade didn’t stop, but it slowed enough for Melvin to be able to breathe again.
I didn’t even have to remind you to count today, his CLIPA said from inside his head.
“I did it myself,” Melvin said aloud as he gulped air. “I remembered.”
Indeed, agreed his CLIPA. I am quite pleased, and you should be too.
But Melvin did not feel pleased. He still felt weird. And, if today was like yesterday, there was more weirdness to come. Timidly, he sat up and looked around. He still slept in his racecar bed and Sabrina still slept under her flowering canopy. But they were thankfully inside their house today. However, instead of duckies and bunnies, the wallpaper was now light brown with cowboys and cowgirls riding bucking broncos. And the plush toys had been replaced by plastic trains, plastic dolls, and plastic cattle ranches, complete with little steers, little fences, and little ranch hands, all made of plastic.
Sabrina woke and rubbed her eyes. It wasn’t until she smiled at him that Melvin realized that she—and he—were now five-year-olds. Seeing her brother, she sang, “Good morning, Melv—”
Her words were cut short by a blast of thunder from above. The sound seemed to drill through their house, rumbling his racecar bed and dislodging leaves from the living canopy over Sabrina. While its after-rumbles continued to sound, Melvin hid under his blankets.
“Silly, Melvin,” Sabrina giggled. Melvin heard her hop out of bed and slide open her window. “The thunder won’t get you. It won’t get nobody. We made the rain not get us. Come out and see!”
Melvin peeked out from under his sheets and found that his sister was right; the weather beyond the windows appeared sunny and warm. Another roll of thunder crashed through the neighborhood, accompanied by the sound of gusting winds, but the bedroom windows showed none of it. With the sky above not visible from where he lay, what Melvin saw was a tranquil, blue morning, but what he heard sounded like the end of days.
While Melvin continued to cringe, his sister bounced on her bed, singing, “Let’s go see! Let’s go see!”
Melvin kept the covers bunched up to his nose. “I don’t think I wanna see.”
“Why not?” asked Sabrina, her bouncing slowing a bit. “It’s a real hurricane. Doesn’t that sound fun?”
“No, it does not.”
“It’s not like it can get you,” Sabrina said. “It’s still sunny down here.”
“I still don’t like it.” Melvin clutched his blankets tighter. “It’s not supposed to be sunny during a hurricane.”
Sabrina firmly propped her fists on her hips while still bouncing and said, “Who says it’s not supposed to be sunny during a hurricane?”
“Those downloads I don’t want. That’s who.”
Sabrina stopped bouncing and gazed at him. “Those downloads you don’t want?”
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