My story
So some weeks ago, some of you wanted to read the story I wrote for Creative Writing..
and it's too long for one post! So this is Part 1
Title: We All Fall Down
The world Ended at noon. It came as quite a surprise to Terrence Patterson of Charleston, Maryland. In fact, so surprising was it that he actually looked up from his video game for a split second to witness this apocalypse. He was quite disappointed, though, with this End. It was very still and anticlimactic, quite unlike the apocalypse portrayed in the movies. There was no explosion; no great loud noise; no chaos; no people running, children screaming. There was merely... the End, because suddenly the world was over. There was merely a feeling of finality and he knew it.
It had been a sunny day with blue skies and a slight breeze; very unassuming; very innocent. Terrence would have never expected such an event to take place on such a day.
When he finished his video game, he went outside, where, apparently, life was still going on exactly as it had before. The birds chirped and rustled cheerily in the trees, the drone of a lawn mower across the street could be heard, and his five year old neighbor was trycicling up and down his driveway, his short legs pedaling rapidly in a vain attempt to gain speed.
It seemed no one but Terrence had realized what had happened.
He went back inside to contemplate this End of the world. Surely, he thought, for the world to end, it must no longer exist. He must no longer exist. Yet, here he was, thinking, feeling, seeing. Timmy was still pedaling up and down the driveway. The world, for all intents and purposes, still existed, it seemed. Of course, that made no sense. Perhaps there was something keeping them here? Something keeping them in existence even when the world ought to be over?
This called for an investigation of the grandest sort. He would call it Operation Apocalypse. He strode purposefully into his bedroom and found a notepad and a black ball-point pen. Operation Apocalypse, he wrote on the top, Phase 1: Verification - I must make sure I really am the only one who noticed the End. I will do this by speaking to selected individuals of all ages, colors, genders, etc., so as to procure the most accurate of results. If I find anyone else, who has the most remote idea of what I am talking about, I will speak to them about it at great length, and see if they have any insights into the matter.
Terrence paused, thinking. How was he to proceed after he’d found out if other people noticed the End? If anyone else had any information, perhaps they would help him, but if not, he needed a plan to continue. He read over his plan so far, and began again.
Phase 2: I must find out who or what would be powerful enough to keep the world in existence even once it has ended. I must find out who they are, why they did it, and if it’s actually for the best.
This seemed to be all he could plan for at the moment, for how was he to know where his investigation would lead him? He would follow any and all leads to accomplish his task. He felt like quite the detective. Perhaps he ought to wear a trench coat. Or not. It was almost summer and he would burn to death inside one.
Unfortunately, he could not yet begin his investigations. He still had school. It hadn’t finished yet. Only a few more weeks to go. He’d only been home for lunch and if he didn’t hurry up and get going he’d be late for Math. Trust school to continue even if the world has Ended, he thought, annoyed. Quickly he stuffed his notebook into his backpack and hurried out of the house, bidding a hasty goodbye to his mother in the kitchen. He climbed onto his bicycle and pedaled hard down the street. Just as he arrived at the train tracks down the road, the barriers began to drop and the clang of the warning bell sounded. Terrence groaned in frustration as the 1:15 train pulled into the station, effectively blocking his path to school. He would be stuck here waiting for the train for more minutes than he could afford. He would be late to school today. Again.
When Terrence finally did arrive, he locked his bike at the stands and rushed inside the school building. He entered the classroom stealthily, his teacher’s back was turned away from the door, and just as he was trying to close the it as quietly as he could so she wouldn’t notice his tardiness, one of his classmates called out, “Late again, Patterson. You’re sure to get detention this time.”
All heads turned his way, looking at him with accusing eyes.
“Be quiet Mr. Wood,” the teacher snapped turning away from the blackboard to look at Terrence, “Patterson, I’m going to have to write you up this time. Detention will be after school tomorrow until 4:00 in the detention room. I dare say you know where it is quite well.”
“I couldn’t help it,” Terrence complained, “I’m late because the world Ended. We shouldn’t even be here anymore anyway. I’m leading the investigation as to why we are!”
The class stared at him incredulously.
“Patterson, of all the excuses you have ever given me, that is probably the worst I have ever heard. You’re losing your touch. I’m disappointed,” said the teacher dryly, “now sit down or I’ll give you two detentions.”
Reluctantly Terrence slid into his seat and took out his notepad. Phase #1: Math class, no sign of anyone who noticed. This was quite disappointing. He really did not want to be alone in this.
By the end of the school day he had ruled out all the students from his other classes as well. He realized he would have to investigate all around town if he was to find someone else aware of the End, like him. He clambered onto his bike and made his way downtown to Candie’s Coffee Shoppe on Main street where he would begin. He entered and ordered himself a large cookie with bright pink icing on top. While he paid, he asked the young cashier if she’d seen anything strange happen that day.
“Like what?” She asked.
“Like the End of the world or something,” Terrence answered.
“Well, Maya’s boyfriend just broke up with her, and she was acting like it was the end of her world,” said the cashier.
Clearly, he would get no help here. He took his pink cookie and returned to his bicycle, riding one-handed down the sidewalk past a florist’s shop, munching his cookie and letting the crumbs tumble down onto the front of his shirt. He rode slowly so as to avoid running over the various people ambling along the street in front of him. He looked about him at all the people bustling around the street, and he suddenly realized that his plan would never work. If there were any other people with his awareness of the End, he would never find them by asking about it to everyone he saw, he could never talk to everyone in town.
As he rode, he contemplated this predicament. There had to be a way to reach everyone in town, to somehow advertise his-oh! Advertising! Of course! It was perfect. He could put a personal ad in the newspaper, that way it could be seen by as much of the town as possible.
Suddenly he swerved, narrowly missing an overexcited dog, and tumbling off his bike. He landed on his rear in front of an old man who sat leaning against the brick wall of a building. The man’s eyes peered suspiciously out at him from under thick, bushy white eyebrows as he stumbled back onto his feet, untangling himself from the bike.
“What’s you’re hurry?” the man asked.
“Um, I’m trying to find someone who noticed the End of the world,” said Terrence.
The man leaned his head back against the wall and sighed.
“Ah,” he said, a small smile making its way across his face, “so it’s Ended, then, has it?”
Terrence was surprised. So far, no one had talked about the End as if it was real. Everyone he’d mentioned it to, told him he was a looney.
“Yes,” he said, “it ended at lunch. I saw it. Or at least, I felt it.”
“Did you really,” the old man replied, amused, “you must be extra and especially talented then.”
Now it was Terrence’s turn to be suspicious.
“Are you mocking me?” he asked, “because I don’t need anymore of that. I’ve already been told I’m crazy a thousand times today.”
The man’s smile grew wider, and he snorted, “So you’ve been talking to people, asking around if anyone else noticed, then have you? Well, I suppose you are persistent, if you haven’t given up after the third person told you you were mad. Strength of character, I call that. It’s nice to see a kid with strength of character these days, and know they’re not all the wishy-washy types who need to be all exactly the same. Do you know, back in my day, when I was just a lad like you, strength of character was a highly valued thing. Far more valued then what name was printed on your clothes or what car your parents drove. Strength of character. That were the good old days.”
The man’s smile was wistful now, and his eyes distant under his eyebrows.
Terrence stared at him, “Right,” he said, still confused as to whether the man was making fun of him or not, “so I take it you did not notice the world End?”
The man looked at him as if he’d forgotten Terrence was there.
“What? Oh, no. I didn’t notice. I’m too old to notice those sorts of things. Too old. Age takes its toll, you know. On the perceptibility of people. I’ve been losing my hearing too,” Here he touched his left ear, where Terrence could see a beige hearing aid nestled inside the opening, “but a young lad like you? In the prime of his youth? Much more likely to notice such an event.”
“I see,” said Terrence, “so you believe me that the world has Ended?”
“Naturally,” the man answered, “it was bound to happen some time. Why not now?”
“But then,” exclaimed Terrence, “why are we still here? Shouldn’t we not exist anymore because the world has Ended? Nothing should exist anymore!”
The old man shrugged, “I suppose that’s your investigation to find out, isn’t it? To find out who or what is keeping us here?”
“Yes it is, but how did you know that?” asked Terrence.
“I assumed it,” said the man, “if you were looking for other people who noticed the End, I imagined you would want to know more than that afterwards.”
“Do you know what could be keeping us here?”
“No. Why should I? It’s not my investigation,” the man answered.
“Oh. Well, I should get going. I’m putting an ad in the newspaper, looking for anyone who noticed,” said Terrence, “and then I have to get home.”
He turned to mount his bike, but the old man’s voice stopped him.
“I don’t think anyone else is going to have noticed,” he said, “usually these things are very strange: Either everyone notices, or no one does, perhaps only one person. It looks like no one has, but you. I don’t think you’re going to find anyone else.”
“Well, it can’t hurt to try,” said Terrence, not one to be discouraged, “I’m putting in an ad anyway.”
“That’s your prerogative then, boy,” said the man, “tell me how it goes will you?”
“How? I don’t even know your name.”
“I’m Marvin,” said the man, “but it doesn’t matter. I’ll see you again, Terrence.”
Terrence was shocked, “I never told you my name!” he exclaimed, “how do you know who I am?”
The old man stood up slowly, bent over, gripping the bricks beside him for support. He straightened, and brushed off his pants.
“My mistake?” he answered, “You should be off now. It’s past 4:30. The newspaper doesn’t take personal ads after 5,” And with that, he slowly ambled off into the bustling crowd of people on the sidewalk, leaving Terrence staring after him, mystified.
He checked his watch. Crap, it was past 4:30. He ought to have been home a half an hour ago. His mother would be upset. She’d lectured him repeatedly about coming home as soon as school let out. She didn’t like not knowing where he was. He’d have to go to the newspaper tomorrow, after detention. He sighed. She’d lecture him about detention, too. Clearly he was in for a tiring day.
Terrence climbed onto his bike, threaded his way through the masses of people suddenly pouring out onto the street after work, and pedaled down the street, towards home.
Sure enough, when he arrived at his house, his mother was standing in front of the stairs with her arms crossed. When he entered she gave him a disapproving look.
“You’re late,” she told him in an annoyed tone of voice.
“Yes mother,” said Terrence sarcastically, trying to move past her, up the stairs, and to the safety of his room.
“Don’t you, ‘Yes, mother’ me, Terrence,” she snapped, moving and blocking his way up the stairs, “and stop trying to escape me. You know how I react when you don’t come home. Where have you been?”
Terrence sighed, “I was just riding around town. You’re so paranoid.”
“I’m not paranoid. There are just some strange people in this city, especially ‘around town’ by your school. I don’t want you getting hurt or something.”
“Then why,” asked Terrence, exasperated, “do you send me to school somewhere, where you don’t like the neighborhood?”
His mother sighed, “we’ve had this discussion before, Terrence. It’s the best public school in the city, despite the neighborhood. We would have sent you to private school if we could afford it.”
“Whatever,” said Terrence, rolling his eyes, “private school. That’s for posh snobs. Can I go now?”
“Not just yet,” said his mother, “Were you late to math again after lunch? You were hurrying.”
“Oh... yeah, I was,” said Terrence, “Mrs. Janke gave me detention again because of it. My excuse wasn’t good enough.”
His mother sighed again, “Detention again. When are you going to learn? Playing video games after lunch is not going to help you be on time. Maybe I should take them away until you stop getting detentions for being late.”
“No, you can’t do that!” exclaimed Terrence, “I haven’t beaten Halo 2 yet!”
His mother glared at him, “you’re too addicted to those games. If you don’t start getting to school on time, I’m going to take them away.”
“Fine, I won’t be late again,” said Terrence, pushing past his mother, onto the stairs, and into his bedroom.
He flopped down onto his bed, and took his notepad out of his backpack. He flipped it to the second page, and looked at what he’d written. So far no one had noticed the End. There was only the old Marvin guy who had talked to him about it, but he hadn’t noticed it either. He was worth mentioning however, because he’d seemed interested and he’d said he’d see Terrence again. He’d even known Terrence’s name, but Terrence was sure he’d never told it to the man. He wrote this down under Phase #1. He put the notepad under his bed. He’d have to consider it all later. He had homework to do now. Apparently, homework was evil enough to survive the End of the world.
The next day awoke with the twittering of birds outside, and the sun shining into Terrence’s eyes as he woke up and opened them. He felt strange, as if something wasn’t completely right. Then he remembered yesterday. The world had Ended. That would account for the strange feeling. He quickly shook himself to get rid of it, and got out of bed. He padded downstairs in his pajamas and mumbled a ‘good morning’ to his parents. His mother glared at him, still annoyed about his detention, and his father sat at the kitchen table with a biscuit in one hand and a ball-point pen in the other. He was doing the crossword puzzle in the newspaper.
Terrence peered into the refrigerator, and pulled out a plate with half of a left over pizza on it. He cut himself a slice, and sat down next to his father. His mother stared at his plate.
“Cold pizza?” she asked, “that’s not a proper breakfast.”
“I like cold pizza,” Terrence said, biting into his slice. His mother shook her head in exasperation, “hurry up or you’re going to be late this morning, too.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” said Terrence, and he tripped up the stairs on his way back to his bed room. He fished under his bed for the notepad, threw it and his school supplies into his backpack, pulled on some clothes and left calling out a ‘goodbye’ to his parents. When he arrived at school, (ready and on time, for once), he was at once accosted by his best friend Zachary.
“Dude, Max and Theo and people are saying you think the world’s going to end, or something,” he said, “you’re not getting involved with one of those crazy religious groups are you? That preach the apocalypse or something?”
Zachary hadn’t been at school yesterday, so Terrence hadn’t talked to him about it yet.
He snickered derisively, “what, do you think I’m insane? The world’s already Ended. I was just asking people if they noticed that it had.”
Zachary eyed him critically, “you’re so full of crap, Terrence. Come on, let’s get to Geography. Macmillan's gonna lynch me if I’m late again.
“My mom’s gonna lynch my if I’m late again,” said Terrence, “I got detention from Janke yesterday. She freaked out.”
Zachary snorted, “why am I not surprised? Oh yeah. It’s because you’re always late, and you always make me late too!” he wiggled his index finger in Terrence’s face, “you’re a very bad influence on me Terrence Patterson,” he said in a high voice, “I can’t associate with you anymore. My mommy says so.”
Terrence laughed, and grabbed Zachary’s hand out of his face and yanked him down the hall towards their Geography classroom. Fortunately, they made it on time.
After school, Terrence made his way down to the detention room. It was really just an unused classroom where they made kids sit in their detentions. All the desks were old and covered in graffiti. Years of delinquent students had covered the desks with writings about all sorts of stupid things. Sometimes Terrence added to them, but mostly when he had detentions, he spent the hour reading the stupid things that were written there and laughing at them.
The detention supervisor, Mr. Hallay, looked up when Terrence entered the room.
“Ah, Patterson: Detention veteran,” he said, grinning slightly, “you can sit over there next to Douglas.” He pointed to the back left corner of the room to an empty desk. Terrence made his way down the rows of students, and took a seat. Then he studied the boy next to him, Douglas, Mr. Hallay had said.
He’d never seen the other boy before, and that was strange-the school wasn’t very big. The boy had most of his head shaven, except for a long strip that ran down the middle and was dyed black and orange in stripes and was brushed forward so that some of it came to hang over the middle of his forehead. He wore all black: his shirt was tight with red slashes across the front and strategically placed safety pins holding the cut up sides together. His pants were rather tight too, but offset by baggy cargo pockets all over and silver chains hanging down the sides. He was very thin, and he looked strangely bony as he sat hunched over his desk clutching a book in his hands. Terrence could see that even his fingernails were painted black.
The boy, apparently sensing that he was being stared at, looked up as he hadn’t done when Mr. Hallay had said his name. He looked at Terrence quizzically from eyes lined in thick black eye makeup. Suddenly, he smiled, lip rings glinting metallically in the light.
“Ah,” he said, “it’s you. I told you I’d see you again! How’s your investigation coming along?”
Terrence stared at him, as much because of the eyeliner as because of what he’d just said.
“Do I know you?” he asked.
The other boy laughed quietly, “of course you do! Don’t you remember me? I’m Marvin!”
Terrence didn’t know what to think. “You’re not Marvin!” he said, “Marvin’s a crazy old guy who sits on the sidewalk next to the department stores! And how do you know about him anyway?”
“Shhh,” said the boy who claimed to be Marvin, “you’ll attract Hallay’s attention! Shift your desk closer to mine so we can talk about this without being overheard.”
Terrence looked at him incredulously before scooting his desk over so that it left an inch wide space between him and ‘Marvin’.
“Explain,” he said shortly.
The other boy closed his book and leaned back, stretching his back. Terrence winced when he heard it crack.
“I. Am. Marvin.” the boy said, “I just didn’t think I’d get into detention to see you in my old disguise as the hobo man.”
“What do you mean, your ‘old disguise’?” asked Terrence flabbergasted.
The boy sighed and stretched his arms out in front of him, lacing silver ringed fingers together and cracking them too.
“I have many different forms- bodies, you could say- that I can take when I do things. The hobo is a good one when I just want to observe people. This one came in handy in this instance, to get into detention. No one questions a boy with earrings and make up having detention, even though there is no one enrolled at this school named Marvin Douglas. I look like quite the little teenage rebel, don’t you think?” he asked posing ridiculously.
“Um, yeah, sure,” said Terrence, “so if you really are Marvin, then what the heck do you really look like, and how do you change your appearance like that?”
“Never mind that,” said Marvin waving his thin fingers in the air dismissively, “it doesn’t matter. I came here to find out how your investigation is going. Have you put your ad in the paper yet?”
Terrence didn’t respond for a while, trying to get his mind around the fact that this teenage boy was one and the same with the old, wrinkled hobo on the street from yesterday.
“I wasn’t able to yesterday. I had to get home,” he answered finally, “I was planning on doing it after detention.”
“I see,” said Marvin, “but otherwise you have not found anyone else who noticed the End?”
“No,” said Terrence.
Marvin nodded, “I didn’t think you would,” he said, “I-,”
“-Why do you even care?” Terrence asked interrupting him.
Marvin looked surprised, “why shouldn’t I care? I’m a living, breathing being just as you are. And I, too, wonder why I’m still here if the world has Ended.”
“But you seem to know everything anyway,” said Terrence, “you knew my name yesterday, and now you knew where to find me after school in detention? Why don’t you know who’s keeping the world like this, and us alive? How do you change your form? Hell, if you’re so all-knowing and powerful, maybe I should suspect you of being the one who is keeping the world alive!” Terrence finished, flustered.
“Wow, too many questions at one time, Terry, my boy,” said Marvin putting out his right hand to stop the flow of questions, “one at a time, all right?”
“Don’t call me ‘Terry’,” said Terrence.
“All right, so you want to know how I knew your name and detention, but don’t know who is keeping the world in orbit? Well, that’s simple,” Marvin said adopting a high tone of voice, “I’m just special!” He fluttered his eyelashes coquettishly, “no, for real, I am just special. I have strange ‘powers’ you could say. I met you and could sort of sense the information I needed from in your head: your name, your mission, your detention. That doesn’t mean I can read your mind or anything, don’t worry. I won’t be able to hear your thoughts on how handsome you think I am,” here Terrence snorted, and Marvin looked at him sternly before continuing, “don’t deny it, I can see it in your eyes! At any rate, I can’t really explain my whole mind sensing thing, but that’s just the way it is. And me changing my body is like that too: just something I can do.” He paused, thinking, “did I answer all of your questions?”
Terrence shook his head, “I also asked you why I shouldn’t suspect you of being the one who is responsible for this... If you’re so powerful and all.”
“Ah, well, as to that, I suppose there’s no reason for you not to suspect me, but I can tell you that I am not. You’re just going to have to take my word for it.”
“You’re saying that I should trust you. Someone I don’t actually know who seems to be stalking me in detention and turning into all sorts of sketchy characters each time I turn around?” asked Terrence disbelievingly, “you don’t really inspire me to have much confidence in you.”
Marvin glared, “well, you’re just going to have to trust me that I’m not lying to you-or,” he said a smirk appearing on his face, “do I have to prove my worth to you?”
“What?” asked Terrence, not comprehending his meaning.
Marvin leered at him, leaning towards Terrence, “I said, ‘how can I prove my worth to you?’”
Terrence leaned back, understanding, “Stop flirting with me,” he said feeling his face heat up, “I don’t like boys.”
Marvin laughed, and sat back in his seat again, “whatever you say, dear,” Terrence scowled, “I was just doing that because you look so funny when you’re flustered,” then, abruptly, he changed the subject, “so basically,” he said, “you’ve gotten nothing done at all, as far as the investigation goes.”
“I haven’t been able to, I told you, “said Terrence, “I’m going to put an ad in the paper after I leave here.”
“I already told you that’s not going to do any good,” said Marvin, “No one else but you, knows.”
“Is this one of those special things that you just know, too, then?” asked Terrence.
“Naturally,” replied Marvin, adopting an air of calm arrogance, “I am all-knowing and supreme. All you foolish ignorants shall bow down and worship me.”
“I think not,” said Terrence, “and if you think I’m so ignorant and useless in this investigation why don’t you just do something yourself instead of stalking me in detention?”
Marvin looked at him and said coldly, “it’s your investigation. You were the one who put it all in a little notepad like some kind of corny detective and named it ‘Operation Apocalypse’ and designated ‘Phase 1’ and ‘Phase 2’.”
Terrence glowered darkly at him, “you’re so annoying,” he said lamely.
“I’m glad you think so highly of me,” said Marvin, bored, turning away, and opening his book again. He crouched over again ignoring Terrence and becoming thoroughly engrossed in his story.
Terrence watched him for a while. He just couldn’t figure the kid out. Was he even a kid? Terrence knew absolutely nothing about Marvin, but Marvin seemed to know almost everything about him. It bothered him.
He reached out and poked Marvin in the arm to get his attention. Marvin lifted his head to look at Terrence.
“What,” he said icily, “do you want now? Our conversation is over.”
“Who are you really?” Terrence asked, unperturbed by Marvin’s tone, “I mean, if you’re not the Hobo or this?” he gestured at Marvin’s body.
Marvin studied him for a few seconds, the he said, “It is... complicated. I am,” he paused, “I am many things, and- it’s really rather complicated. I’m not sure you could really understand. I am both the Hobo and the teenage rebel you see me as now, as well as various other people. I am generally whatever I want, whoever I want. To be. I really am all of them.”
“But don’t you have one form that is real or something? One that is the body you were born in?” asked Terrence.
“No.” said Marvin, “I told you, you couldn’t possibly understand. I don’t want to try explaining,” his face grew dark, “the last time I tried that.. Never mind, that is in the past. It doesn’t matter anymore. Just forget about it,” he turned to the clock on the far wall, “it’s almost four, detention will be over soon. You will be putting the personal ad in the paper. (And wasting your money, I might add.) Do you have something written out?”
“Yes,” said Terrence.
A loud noise came from the front of the classroom. Terrence looked up to see Mr. Hallay smirking, and holding the large text book he’d just slammed shut in front of him.
“Detention’s over. You can all leave now,” he said standing up, “come on, get going, get out, I want to go home too, you know.”
The students stood up, collected their bags and shuffled towards the door as Mr. Hallay watched them with a maniacal smile on his face.. Marvin put a hand on Terrence’s shoulder as they made their way out the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said into Terrence’s ear. Then he disappeared up a flight of stairs in the opposite direction of where Terrence was headed.
Fifteen minutes later, Terrence arrived at the big brick building that was the headquarters of the Daily Post. He entered the lobby and looked around. There were various people milling about, and several desks with secretaries, a few speaking on the phone. He walked up to one of the desks where a middle aged woman in a red suit sat typing at a computer. She looked up and smiled at him.
“What may I do for you, young man?” she asked pleasantly.
“I was wondering where I could go to put an ad in the Personals,” Terrence replied.
She stood up and pointed at another desk across the lobby where a young man was crouching down underneath searching for some elusive fallen object.
“You just walk on down there to Samuel, the one under the desk, he’ll be happy to take care of that for you,” she said.
“Thank you,” Terrence said, turning away. He arrived at the other desk to find the man still on his knees underneath it. The man looked up. “I’m sorry,” he said, “may I help you?”
Terrence looked down at him, “I was told to come here, because I am trying to put an ad in the Personals. What are you looking for?”
The man smiled, “I’ll be glad to help you, then, in just a second. I’m looking for my paper weight. It was a feldspar crystal from the Alps that my fiancé gave me before she went off to the Congo with the Peace Corps. I really hope it didn’t break when it fell off my desk.”
Terrence didn’t know what to say to that, so he just bent down and scoured the floor for the paper weight. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something glinting in the light. He turned his head sideways and pressed his cheek to the floor. He could make out the vague shape of the paperweight underneath the file cabinet next to the desk.
“I think I found it,” he said reaching his arm under the cabinet, groping blindly with his fingers until they touched something cold and hard. He wrapped his fingers around it and pulled it out. Samuel looked into his hand.
“That’s it!” he said excitedly, “thank you very much,” he climbed awkwardly out from under the desk, and rearranged his suite before sitting in his chair. Terrence put the crystal on a sheaf of papers.
“So you have an ad for the Personals, then? Fill this out with what you want it to say,” said Samuel handing him a form. Terrence filled it out and handed it back.
“Thank you,” he said, “how much does that cost?”
“Five dollars and thirty-five cents,” the man at the desk replied, putting the paper in a folder and spinning his chair to the other side of the desk where there was a cash register. He put Terrence’s money inside it and it closed with a high pitched beep.
When Terrence arrived home, he took his notepad and sat down on his desk chair. Under what he had written in ‘Phase 1’, he wrote, Have placed personal ad in paper - last resort for verification. Will record all replies.
The next morning at breakfast Terrence’s father was flipping through the newspaper when he saw something that made him stop.
“Terrence,” he called, “what is this?”
Terrence looked at the ad. It was exactly as he had worded it:
Searching for Information on
Wednesday’s Apocalypse.
Anyone with Information call
Terrence 358-626-9976
“It’s um,” he said at a loss. He hadn’t anticipated his parents seeing it. His mother frowned at the ad.
“Is this some kind of silly joke?” she asked Terrence. Of course!, he thought, that would be perfect.
“Yeah, Zach dared me to put a stupid ad in the paper,” he answered. His father laughed.
“You boys are such odd creatures these days,” he said, and that was that.
Later, when Terrence arrived at school, he was accosted at his locker by a slightly worried looking Zachary. He was holding the newspaper clipping.
“You’re such a nut,” he said, “why do you have a sudden obsession with the apocalypse? It’s not something religious, is it?”
“No, Zach, it’s just a joke,” said Terrence.
“Because if you’ve joined some kind of cult that has predicted the apocalypse and is asking for your money and stuff, I think-” but Terrence cut him off.
“For heaven’s sake, Zach,” he said exasperated, “do you really think I’m that pathetic?”
“Yes.”
“You idiot,” Terrence said laughing and he pushed Zachary away from him. Zachary grinned.
“It’s nice to know you haven’t completely lost it,” he said, and they went to class.
At lunch, Terrence stepped outside the school to find it was pouring rain. Quickly he ducked back inside again to avoid getting drenched. He would have to stay at school for lunch today instead of riding his bike home like he usually did.
He entered the cafeteria and sat his bag down next to Zachary who asked him why hadn’t gone home.
“It’s raining,” he said and made his way to the lunch line. He was the absolute last person in the line because he had arrived so late. By the time he reached the cashier with his food, half the lunch period had already passed. He took out his money to pay for his food, and when he looked up at the cashier, he was surprised to see an unfamiliar man behind the counter. He was short and fat, and his hair was brown but already balding, though he looked to be no older than 30, perhaps. The man was smirking at him.
“They’re laughing at you,” he said.
“What?” asked Terrence, bewildered, “who?”
The man jerked his head to the right, “your friends,” he said staring behind Terrence.
Terrence spun around to see the entire table around Zachary filled with students laughing and pointing at him. His friend had the newspaper ad in his hand and was showing it to everybody.
“Zach!” he yelled, aggravated, “why the hell are you showing it to everyone?”
This just made them laugh harder. He turned away, back to the cashier, who was snickering.
“What?” he asked shortly.
The cashier grinned.
“I told you it was a waste of money,” he said, “people are only going to make fun of you for it. No one will really take it seriously because no one actually noticed the End.”
Terrence stared at him wide-eyed.
“Marvin?” he said incredulously, “oh my god, you’re fat! And ugly, and balding!” He burst out laughing. Marvin scowled at him from his fat face.
“Shut up,” he said, “this is just one of my forms.”
“You look so funny!” said Terrence, laughing.
“Are you going to pay for your lunch or not?”
“Yes, yes, don’t get your panties in a twist!” said Terrence handing him the money, “what are you doing here, anyway?”
“I wanted to make fun of you actually,” Marvin said.
“You’re so lame,” said Terrence, and he left to eat lunch.
When Terrence got home from soccer practice, his mother had left him a note that she and his father had gone out, and that he was to heat up left -overs in the refrigerator for dinner. He had just put a plate with spaghetti in the microwave when the phone rang. He picked it up.
“Hello?” he said into the receiver.
“Hi,” said a voice, “am I speaking to Terrence?”
“Yes,” said Terrence, “who is this please?”
“I am James Padget of the Foundation Church of Divine Truth, and I am calling regarding the personal ad you placed in today’s Daily News,” said the voice, “I understand that you are looking for information regarding the Apocalypse.”
“Yes,” said Terrence suspiciously.
“Well, I understand the confused feelings you must be having right now due to the impending apocalypse,” began the voice, “I want to tell you that the Foundation Church of Divine Truth can put your mind at ease. We are an organization built to provide information concerning the apocalypse as prophesied in the Christian Bible. The Bible states that the end is near and that our departation from God’s earth shall be soon. We are witnesses to the fullfillment of the prophecies of old. The world has gone mad and is growing worse with each passing day. We see the people of the Lord Jesus Christ being tormented, decieved, and thrown about by false doctrines making fake promises. We see people uncaring and oblivious to the true word of the Lord. The Foundation Church of Divine Truth seeks to welcome these people into the arms of the Lord Jesus Christ. All those who repent their sinful past and by faith embrace the Lord as their Savior will pass through the Apocalypse in His arms and shall be Saved from eternal damnation in Hell.”
Terrence began to laugh, “I’m sorry,” he said, “I think you must have called the wrong number,” and he hung up the phone.
He sank into a chair at the kitchen table and stared at the phone. Marvin had been right after all. No one else knew about the End. He was the only one. The thought sank deeply into his mind. He was alone in this, absolutely alone. No one else had felt that sudden feeling of finality that he had felt on that fatal Wednesday afternoon. He’d been hoping all the while that maybe he could have a companion in his search for the delaying of the End, but now all that hope was shattered. There were only looney christian cults who took the apocalypse seriously, but they had it completely wrong. There was nothing religious about this End, that much he could feel for sure.
Part 2: here
and it's too long for one post! So this is Part 1
Title: We All Fall Down
The world Ended at noon. It came as quite a surprise to Terrence Patterson of Charleston, Maryland. In fact, so surprising was it that he actually looked up from his video game for a split second to witness this apocalypse. He was quite disappointed, though, with this End. It was very still and anticlimactic, quite unlike the apocalypse portrayed in the movies. There was no explosion; no great loud noise; no chaos; no people running, children screaming. There was merely... the End, because suddenly the world was over. There was merely a feeling of finality and he knew it.
It had been a sunny day with blue skies and a slight breeze; very unassuming; very innocent. Terrence would have never expected such an event to take place on such a day.
When he finished his video game, he went outside, where, apparently, life was still going on exactly as it had before. The birds chirped and rustled cheerily in the trees, the drone of a lawn mower across the street could be heard, and his five year old neighbor was trycicling up and down his driveway, his short legs pedaling rapidly in a vain attempt to gain speed.
It seemed no one but Terrence had realized what had happened.
He went back inside to contemplate this End of the world. Surely, he thought, for the world to end, it must no longer exist. He must no longer exist. Yet, here he was, thinking, feeling, seeing. Timmy was still pedaling up and down the driveway. The world, for all intents and purposes, still existed, it seemed. Of course, that made no sense. Perhaps there was something keeping them here? Something keeping them in existence even when the world ought to be over?
This called for an investigation of the grandest sort. He would call it Operation Apocalypse. He strode purposefully into his bedroom and found a notepad and a black ball-point pen. Operation Apocalypse, he wrote on the top, Phase 1: Verification - I must make sure I really am the only one who noticed the End. I will do this by speaking to selected individuals of all ages, colors, genders, etc., so as to procure the most accurate of results. If I find anyone else, who has the most remote idea of what I am talking about, I will speak to them about it at great length, and see if they have any insights into the matter.
Terrence paused, thinking. How was he to proceed after he’d found out if other people noticed the End? If anyone else had any information, perhaps they would help him, but if not, he needed a plan to continue. He read over his plan so far, and began again.
Phase 2: I must find out who or what would be powerful enough to keep the world in existence even once it has ended. I must find out who they are, why they did it, and if it’s actually for the best.
This seemed to be all he could plan for at the moment, for how was he to know where his investigation would lead him? He would follow any and all leads to accomplish his task. He felt like quite the detective. Perhaps he ought to wear a trench coat. Or not. It was almost summer and he would burn to death inside one.
Unfortunately, he could not yet begin his investigations. He still had school. It hadn’t finished yet. Only a few more weeks to go. He’d only been home for lunch and if he didn’t hurry up and get going he’d be late for Math. Trust school to continue even if the world has Ended, he thought, annoyed. Quickly he stuffed his notebook into his backpack and hurried out of the house, bidding a hasty goodbye to his mother in the kitchen. He climbed onto his bicycle and pedaled hard down the street. Just as he arrived at the train tracks down the road, the barriers began to drop and the clang of the warning bell sounded. Terrence groaned in frustration as the 1:15 train pulled into the station, effectively blocking his path to school. He would be stuck here waiting for the train for more minutes than he could afford. He would be late to school today. Again.
When Terrence finally did arrive, he locked his bike at the stands and rushed inside the school building. He entered the classroom stealthily, his teacher’s back was turned away from the door, and just as he was trying to close the it as quietly as he could so she wouldn’t notice his tardiness, one of his classmates called out, “Late again, Patterson. You’re sure to get detention this time.”
All heads turned his way, looking at him with accusing eyes.
“Be quiet Mr. Wood,” the teacher snapped turning away from the blackboard to look at Terrence, “Patterson, I’m going to have to write you up this time. Detention will be after school tomorrow until 4:00 in the detention room. I dare say you know where it is quite well.”
“I couldn’t help it,” Terrence complained, “I’m late because the world Ended. We shouldn’t even be here anymore anyway. I’m leading the investigation as to why we are!”
The class stared at him incredulously.
“Patterson, of all the excuses you have ever given me, that is probably the worst I have ever heard. You’re losing your touch. I’m disappointed,” said the teacher dryly, “now sit down or I’ll give you two detentions.”
Reluctantly Terrence slid into his seat and took out his notepad. Phase #1: Math class, no sign of anyone who noticed. This was quite disappointing. He really did not want to be alone in this.
By the end of the school day he had ruled out all the students from his other classes as well. He realized he would have to investigate all around town if he was to find someone else aware of the End, like him. He clambered onto his bike and made his way downtown to Candie’s Coffee Shoppe on Main street where he would begin. He entered and ordered himself a large cookie with bright pink icing on top. While he paid, he asked the young cashier if she’d seen anything strange happen that day.
“Like what?” She asked.
“Like the End of the world or something,” Terrence answered.
“Well, Maya’s boyfriend just broke up with her, and she was acting like it was the end of her world,” said the cashier.
Clearly, he would get no help here. He took his pink cookie and returned to his bicycle, riding one-handed down the sidewalk past a florist’s shop, munching his cookie and letting the crumbs tumble down onto the front of his shirt. He rode slowly so as to avoid running over the various people ambling along the street in front of him. He looked about him at all the people bustling around the street, and he suddenly realized that his plan would never work. If there were any other people with his awareness of the End, he would never find them by asking about it to everyone he saw, he could never talk to everyone in town.
As he rode, he contemplated this predicament. There had to be a way to reach everyone in town, to somehow advertise his-oh! Advertising! Of course! It was perfect. He could put a personal ad in the newspaper, that way it could be seen by as much of the town as possible.
Suddenly he swerved, narrowly missing an overexcited dog, and tumbling off his bike. He landed on his rear in front of an old man who sat leaning against the brick wall of a building. The man’s eyes peered suspiciously out at him from under thick, bushy white eyebrows as he stumbled back onto his feet, untangling himself from the bike.
“What’s you’re hurry?” the man asked.
“Um, I’m trying to find someone who noticed the End of the world,” said Terrence.
The man leaned his head back against the wall and sighed.
“Ah,” he said, a small smile making its way across his face, “so it’s Ended, then, has it?”
Terrence was surprised. So far, no one had talked about the End as if it was real. Everyone he’d mentioned it to, told him he was a looney.
“Yes,” he said, “it ended at lunch. I saw it. Or at least, I felt it.”
“Did you really,” the old man replied, amused, “you must be extra and especially talented then.”
Now it was Terrence’s turn to be suspicious.
“Are you mocking me?” he asked, “because I don’t need anymore of that. I’ve already been told I’m crazy a thousand times today.”
The man’s smile grew wider, and he snorted, “So you’ve been talking to people, asking around if anyone else noticed, then have you? Well, I suppose you are persistent, if you haven’t given up after the third person told you you were mad. Strength of character, I call that. It’s nice to see a kid with strength of character these days, and know they’re not all the wishy-washy types who need to be all exactly the same. Do you know, back in my day, when I was just a lad like you, strength of character was a highly valued thing. Far more valued then what name was printed on your clothes or what car your parents drove. Strength of character. That were the good old days.”
The man’s smile was wistful now, and his eyes distant under his eyebrows.
Terrence stared at him, “Right,” he said, still confused as to whether the man was making fun of him or not, “so I take it you did not notice the world End?”
The man looked at him as if he’d forgotten Terrence was there.
“What? Oh, no. I didn’t notice. I’m too old to notice those sorts of things. Too old. Age takes its toll, you know. On the perceptibility of people. I’ve been losing my hearing too,” Here he touched his left ear, where Terrence could see a beige hearing aid nestled inside the opening, “but a young lad like you? In the prime of his youth? Much more likely to notice such an event.”
“I see,” said Terrence, “so you believe me that the world has Ended?”
“Naturally,” the man answered, “it was bound to happen some time. Why not now?”
“But then,” exclaimed Terrence, “why are we still here? Shouldn’t we not exist anymore because the world has Ended? Nothing should exist anymore!”
The old man shrugged, “I suppose that’s your investigation to find out, isn’t it? To find out who or what is keeping us here?”
“Yes it is, but how did you know that?” asked Terrence.
“I assumed it,” said the man, “if you were looking for other people who noticed the End, I imagined you would want to know more than that afterwards.”
“Do you know what could be keeping us here?”
“No. Why should I? It’s not my investigation,” the man answered.
“Oh. Well, I should get going. I’m putting an ad in the newspaper, looking for anyone who noticed,” said Terrence, “and then I have to get home.”
He turned to mount his bike, but the old man’s voice stopped him.
“I don’t think anyone else is going to have noticed,” he said, “usually these things are very strange: Either everyone notices, or no one does, perhaps only one person. It looks like no one has, but you. I don’t think you’re going to find anyone else.”
“Well, it can’t hurt to try,” said Terrence, not one to be discouraged, “I’m putting in an ad anyway.”
“That’s your prerogative then, boy,” said the man, “tell me how it goes will you?”
“How? I don’t even know your name.”
“I’m Marvin,” said the man, “but it doesn’t matter. I’ll see you again, Terrence.”
Terrence was shocked, “I never told you my name!” he exclaimed, “how do you know who I am?”
The old man stood up slowly, bent over, gripping the bricks beside him for support. He straightened, and brushed off his pants.
“My mistake?” he answered, “You should be off now. It’s past 4:30. The newspaper doesn’t take personal ads after 5,” And with that, he slowly ambled off into the bustling crowd of people on the sidewalk, leaving Terrence staring after him, mystified.
He checked his watch. Crap, it was past 4:30. He ought to have been home a half an hour ago. His mother would be upset. She’d lectured him repeatedly about coming home as soon as school let out. She didn’t like not knowing where he was. He’d have to go to the newspaper tomorrow, after detention. He sighed. She’d lecture him about detention, too. Clearly he was in for a tiring day.
Terrence climbed onto his bike, threaded his way through the masses of people suddenly pouring out onto the street after work, and pedaled down the street, towards home.
Sure enough, when he arrived at his house, his mother was standing in front of the stairs with her arms crossed. When he entered she gave him a disapproving look.
“You’re late,” she told him in an annoyed tone of voice.
“Yes mother,” said Terrence sarcastically, trying to move past her, up the stairs, and to the safety of his room.
“Don’t you, ‘Yes, mother’ me, Terrence,” she snapped, moving and blocking his way up the stairs, “and stop trying to escape me. You know how I react when you don’t come home. Where have you been?”
Terrence sighed, “I was just riding around town. You’re so paranoid.”
“I’m not paranoid. There are just some strange people in this city, especially ‘around town’ by your school. I don’t want you getting hurt or something.”
“Then why,” asked Terrence, exasperated, “do you send me to school somewhere, where you don’t like the neighborhood?”
His mother sighed, “we’ve had this discussion before, Terrence. It’s the best public school in the city, despite the neighborhood. We would have sent you to private school if we could afford it.”
“Whatever,” said Terrence, rolling his eyes, “private school. That’s for posh snobs. Can I go now?”
“Not just yet,” said his mother, “Were you late to math again after lunch? You were hurrying.”
“Oh... yeah, I was,” said Terrence, “Mrs. Janke gave me detention again because of it. My excuse wasn’t good enough.”
His mother sighed again, “Detention again. When are you going to learn? Playing video games after lunch is not going to help you be on time. Maybe I should take them away until you stop getting detentions for being late.”
“No, you can’t do that!” exclaimed Terrence, “I haven’t beaten Halo 2 yet!”
His mother glared at him, “you’re too addicted to those games. If you don’t start getting to school on time, I’m going to take them away.”
“Fine, I won’t be late again,” said Terrence, pushing past his mother, onto the stairs, and into his bedroom.
He flopped down onto his bed, and took his notepad out of his backpack. He flipped it to the second page, and looked at what he’d written. So far no one had noticed the End. There was only the old Marvin guy who had talked to him about it, but he hadn’t noticed it either. He was worth mentioning however, because he’d seemed interested and he’d said he’d see Terrence again. He’d even known Terrence’s name, but Terrence was sure he’d never told it to the man. He wrote this down under Phase #1. He put the notepad under his bed. He’d have to consider it all later. He had homework to do now. Apparently, homework was evil enough to survive the End of the world.
The next day awoke with the twittering of birds outside, and the sun shining into Terrence’s eyes as he woke up and opened them. He felt strange, as if something wasn’t completely right. Then he remembered yesterday. The world had Ended. That would account for the strange feeling. He quickly shook himself to get rid of it, and got out of bed. He padded downstairs in his pajamas and mumbled a ‘good morning’ to his parents. His mother glared at him, still annoyed about his detention, and his father sat at the kitchen table with a biscuit in one hand and a ball-point pen in the other. He was doing the crossword puzzle in the newspaper.
Terrence peered into the refrigerator, and pulled out a plate with half of a left over pizza on it. He cut himself a slice, and sat down next to his father. His mother stared at his plate.
“Cold pizza?” she asked, “that’s not a proper breakfast.”
“I like cold pizza,” Terrence said, biting into his slice. His mother shook her head in exasperation, “hurry up or you’re going to be late this morning, too.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” said Terrence, and he tripped up the stairs on his way back to his bed room. He fished under his bed for the notepad, threw it and his school supplies into his backpack, pulled on some clothes and left calling out a ‘goodbye’ to his parents. When he arrived at school, (ready and on time, for once), he was at once accosted by his best friend Zachary.
“Dude, Max and Theo and people are saying you think the world’s going to end, or something,” he said, “you’re not getting involved with one of those crazy religious groups are you? That preach the apocalypse or something?”
Zachary hadn’t been at school yesterday, so Terrence hadn’t talked to him about it yet.
He snickered derisively, “what, do you think I’m insane? The world’s already Ended. I was just asking people if they noticed that it had.”
Zachary eyed him critically, “you’re so full of crap, Terrence. Come on, let’s get to Geography. Macmillan's gonna lynch me if I’m late again.
“My mom’s gonna lynch my if I’m late again,” said Terrence, “I got detention from Janke yesterday. She freaked out.”
Zachary snorted, “why am I not surprised? Oh yeah. It’s because you’re always late, and you always make me late too!” he wiggled his index finger in Terrence’s face, “you’re a very bad influence on me Terrence Patterson,” he said in a high voice, “I can’t associate with you anymore. My mommy says so.”
Terrence laughed, and grabbed Zachary’s hand out of his face and yanked him down the hall towards their Geography classroom. Fortunately, they made it on time.
After school, Terrence made his way down to the detention room. It was really just an unused classroom where they made kids sit in their detentions. All the desks were old and covered in graffiti. Years of delinquent students had covered the desks with writings about all sorts of stupid things. Sometimes Terrence added to them, but mostly when he had detentions, he spent the hour reading the stupid things that were written there and laughing at them.
The detention supervisor, Mr. Hallay, looked up when Terrence entered the room.
“Ah, Patterson: Detention veteran,” he said, grinning slightly, “you can sit over there next to Douglas.” He pointed to the back left corner of the room to an empty desk. Terrence made his way down the rows of students, and took a seat. Then he studied the boy next to him, Douglas, Mr. Hallay had said.
He’d never seen the other boy before, and that was strange-the school wasn’t very big. The boy had most of his head shaven, except for a long strip that ran down the middle and was dyed black and orange in stripes and was brushed forward so that some of it came to hang over the middle of his forehead. He wore all black: his shirt was tight with red slashes across the front and strategically placed safety pins holding the cut up sides together. His pants were rather tight too, but offset by baggy cargo pockets all over and silver chains hanging down the sides. He was very thin, and he looked strangely bony as he sat hunched over his desk clutching a book in his hands. Terrence could see that even his fingernails were painted black.
The boy, apparently sensing that he was being stared at, looked up as he hadn’t done when Mr. Hallay had said his name. He looked at Terrence quizzically from eyes lined in thick black eye makeup. Suddenly, he smiled, lip rings glinting metallically in the light.
“Ah,” he said, “it’s you. I told you I’d see you again! How’s your investigation coming along?”
Terrence stared at him, as much because of the eyeliner as because of what he’d just said.
“Do I know you?” he asked.
The other boy laughed quietly, “of course you do! Don’t you remember me? I’m Marvin!”
Terrence didn’t know what to think. “You’re not Marvin!” he said, “Marvin’s a crazy old guy who sits on the sidewalk next to the department stores! And how do you know about him anyway?”
“Shhh,” said the boy who claimed to be Marvin, “you’ll attract Hallay’s attention! Shift your desk closer to mine so we can talk about this without being overheard.”
Terrence looked at him incredulously before scooting his desk over so that it left an inch wide space between him and ‘Marvin’.
“Explain,” he said shortly.
The other boy closed his book and leaned back, stretching his back. Terrence winced when he heard it crack.
“I. Am. Marvin.” the boy said, “I just didn’t think I’d get into detention to see you in my old disguise as the hobo man.”
“What do you mean, your ‘old disguise’?” asked Terrence flabbergasted.
The boy sighed and stretched his arms out in front of him, lacing silver ringed fingers together and cracking them too.
“I have many different forms- bodies, you could say- that I can take when I do things. The hobo is a good one when I just want to observe people. This one came in handy in this instance, to get into detention. No one questions a boy with earrings and make up having detention, even though there is no one enrolled at this school named Marvin Douglas. I look like quite the little teenage rebel, don’t you think?” he asked posing ridiculously.
“Um, yeah, sure,” said Terrence, “so if you really are Marvin, then what the heck do you really look like, and how do you change your appearance like that?”
“Never mind that,” said Marvin waving his thin fingers in the air dismissively, “it doesn’t matter. I came here to find out how your investigation is going. Have you put your ad in the paper yet?”
Terrence didn’t respond for a while, trying to get his mind around the fact that this teenage boy was one and the same with the old, wrinkled hobo on the street from yesterday.
“I wasn’t able to yesterday. I had to get home,” he answered finally, “I was planning on doing it after detention.”
“I see,” said Marvin, “but otherwise you have not found anyone else who noticed the End?”
“No,” said Terrence.
Marvin nodded, “I didn’t think you would,” he said, “I-,”
“-Why do you even care?” Terrence asked interrupting him.
Marvin looked surprised, “why shouldn’t I care? I’m a living, breathing being just as you are. And I, too, wonder why I’m still here if the world has Ended.”
“But you seem to know everything anyway,” said Terrence, “you knew my name yesterday, and now you knew where to find me after school in detention? Why don’t you know who’s keeping the world like this, and us alive? How do you change your form? Hell, if you’re so all-knowing and powerful, maybe I should suspect you of being the one who is keeping the world alive!” Terrence finished, flustered.
“Wow, too many questions at one time, Terry, my boy,” said Marvin putting out his right hand to stop the flow of questions, “one at a time, all right?”
“Don’t call me ‘Terry’,” said Terrence.
“All right, so you want to know how I knew your name and detention, but don’t know who is keeping the world in orbit? Well, that’s simple,” Marvin said adopting a high tone of voice, “I’m just special!” He fluttered his eyelashes coquettishly, “no, for real, I am just special. I have strange ‘powers’ you could say. I met you and could sort of sense the information I needed from in your head: your name, your mission, your detention. That doesn’t mean I can read your mind or anything, don’t worry. I won’t be able to hear your thoughts on how handsome you think I am,” here Terrence snorted, and Marvin looked at him sternly before continuing, “don’t deny it, I can see it in your eyes! At any rate, I can’t really explain my whole mind sensing thing, but that’s just the way it is. And me changing my body is like that too: just something I can do.” He paused, thinking, “did I answer all of your questions?”
Terrence shook his head, “I also asked you why I shouldn’t suspect you of being the one who is responsible for this... If you’re so powerful and all.”
“Ah, well, as to that, I suppose there’s no reason for you not to suspect me, but I can tell you that I am not. You’re just going to have to take my word for it.”
“You’re saying that I should trust you. Someone I don’t actually know who seems to be stalking me in detention and turning into all sorts of sketchy characters each time I turn around?” asked Terrence disbelievingly, “you don’t really inspire me to have much confidence in you.”
Marvin glared, “well, you’re just going to have to trust me that I’m not lying to you-or,” he said a smirk appearing on his face, “do I have to prove my worth to you?”
“What?” asked Terrence, not comprehending his meaning.
Marvin leered at him, leaning towards Terrence, “I said, ‘how can I prove my worth to you?’”
Terrence leaned back, understanding, “Stop flirting with me,” he said feeling his face heat up, “I don’t like boys.”
Marvin laughed, and sat back in his seat again, “whatever you say, dear,” Terrence scowled, “I was just doing that because you look so funny when you’re flustered,” then, abruptly, he changed the subject, “so basically,” he said, “you’ve gotten nothing done at all, as far as the investigation goes.”
“I haven’t been able to, I told you, “said Terrence, “I’m going to put an ad in the paper after I leave here.”
“I already told you that’s not going to do any good,” said Marvin, “No one else but you, knows.”
“Is this one of those special things that you just know, too, then?” asked Terrence.
“Naturally,” replied Marvin, adopting an air of calm arrogance, “I am all-knowing and supreme. All you foolish ignorants shall bow down and worship me.”
“I think not,” said Terrence, “and if you think I’m so ignorant and useless in this investigation why don’t you just do something yourself instead of stalking me in detention?”
Marvin looked at him and said coldly, “it’s your investigation. You were the one who put it all in a little notepad like some kind of corny detective and named it ‘Operation Apocalypse’ and designated ‘Phase 1’ and ‘Phase 2’.”
Terrence glowered darkly at him, “you’re so annoying,” he said lamely.
“I’m glad you think so highly of me,” said Marvin, bored, turning away, and opening his book again. He crouched over again ignoring Terrence and becoming thoroughly engrossed in his story.
Terrence watched him for a while. He just couldn’t figure the kid out. Was he even a kid? Terrence knew absolutely nothing about Marvin, but Marvin seemed to know almost everything about him. It bothered him.
He reached out and poked Marvin in the arm to get his attention. Marvin lifted his head to look at Terrence.
“What,” he said icily, “do you want now? Our conversation is over.”
“Who are you really?” Terrence asked, unperturbed by Marvin’s tone, “I mean, if you’re not the Hobo or this?” he gestured at Marvin’s body.
Marvin studied him for a few seconds, the he said, “It is... complicated. I am,” he paused, “I am many things, and- it’s really rather complicated. I’m not sure you could really understand. I am both the Hobo and the teenage rebel you see me as now, as well as various other people. I am generally whatever I want, whoever I want. To be. I really am all of them.”
“But don’t you have one form that is real or something? One that is the body you were born in?” asked Terrence.
“No.” said Marvin, “I told you, you couldn’t possibly understand. I don’t want to try explaining,” his face grew dark, “the last time I tried that.. Never mind, that is in the past. It doesn’t matter anymore. Just forget about it,” he turned to the clock on the far wall, “it’s almost four, detention will be over soon. You will be putting the personal ad in the paper. (And wasting your money, I might add.) Do you have something written out?”
“Yes,” said Terrence.
A loud noise came from the front of the classroom. Terrence looked up to see Mr. Hallay smirking, and holding the large text book he’d just slammed shut in front of him.
“Detention’s over. You can all leave now,” he said standing up, “come on, get going, get out, I want to go home too, you know.”
The students stood up, collected their bags and shuffled towards the door as Mr. Hallay watched them with a maniacal smile on his face.. Marvin put a hand on Terrence’s shoulder as they made their way out the door, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said into Terrence’s ear. Then he disappeared up a flight of stairs in the opposite direction of where Terrence was headed.
Fifteen minutes later, Terrence arrived at the big brick building that was the headquarters of the Daily Post. He entered the lobby and looked around. There were various people milling about, and several desks with secretaries, a few speaking on the phone. He walked up to one of the desks where a middle aged woman in a red suit sat typing at a computer. She looked up and smiled at him.
“What may I do for you, young man?” she asked pleasantly.
“I was wondering where I could go to put an ad in the Personals,” Terrence replied.
She stood up and pointed at another desk across the lobby where a young man was crouching down underneath searching for some elusive fallen object.
“You just walk on down there to Samuel, the one under the desk, he’ll be happy to take care of that for you,” she said.
“Thank you,” Terrence said, turning away. He arrived at the other desk to find the man still on his knees underneath it. The man looked up. “I’m sorry,” he said, “may I help you?”
Terrence looked down at him, “I was told to come here, because I am trying to put an ad in the Personals. What are you looking for?”
The man smiled, “I’ll be glad to help you, then, in just a second. I’m looking for my paper weight. It was a feldspar crystal from the Alps that my fiancé gave me before she went off to the Congo with the Peace Corps. I really hope it didn’t break when it fell off my desk.”
Terrence didn’t know what to say to that, so he just bent down and scoured the floor for the paper weight. Out of the corner of his eye he saw something glinting in the light. He turned his head sideways and pressed his cheek to the floor. He could make out the vague shape of the paperweight underneath the file cabinet next to the desk.
“I think I found it,” he said reaching his arm under the cabinet, groping blindly with his fingers until they touched something cold and hard. He wrapped his fingers around it and pulled it out. Samuel looked into his hand.
“That’s it!” he said excitedly, “thank you very much,” he climbed awkwardly out from under the desk, and rearranged his suite before sitting in his chair. Terrence put the crystal on a sheaf of papers.
“So you have an ad for the Personals, then? Fill this out with what you want it to say,” said Samuel handing him a form. Terrence filled it out and handed it back.
“Thank you,” he said, “how much does that cost?”
“Five dollars and thirty-five cents,” the man at the desk replied, putting the paper in a folder and spinning his chair to the other side of the desk where there was a cash register. He put Terrence’s money inside it and it closed with a high pitched beep.
When Terrence arrived home, he took his notepad and sat down on his desk chair. Under what he had written in ‘Phase 1’, he wrote, Have placed personal ad in paper - last resort for verification. Will record all replies.
The next morning at breakfast Terrence’s father was flipping through the newspaper when he saw something that made him stop.
“Terrence,” he called, “what is this?”
Terrence looked at the ad. It was exactly as he had worded it:
Searching for Information on
Wednesday’s Apocalypse.
Anyone with Information call
Terrence 358-626-9976
“It’s um,” he said at a loss. He hadn’t anticipated his parents seeing it. His mother frowned at the ad.
“Is this some kind of silly joke?” she asked Terrence. Of course!, he thought, that would be perfect.
“Yeah, Zach dared me to put a stupid ad in the paper,” he answered. His father laughed.
“You boys are such odd creatures these days,” he said, and that was that.
Later, when Terrence arrived at school, he was accosted at his locker by a slightly worried looking Zachary. He was holding the newspaper clipping.
“You’re such a nut,” he said, “why do you have a sudden obsession with the apocalypse? It’s not something religious, is it?”
“No, Zach, it’s just a joke,” said Terrence.
“Because if you’ve joined some kind of cult that has predicted the apocalypse and is asking for your money and stuff, I think-” but Terrence cut him off.
“For heaven’s sake, Zach,” he said exasperated, “do you really think I’m that pathetic?”
“Yes.”
“You idiot,” Terrence said laughing and he pushed Zachary away from him. Zachary grinned.
“It’s nice to know you haven’t completely lost it,” he said, and they went to class.
At lunch, Terrence stepped outside the school to find it was pouring rain. Quickly he ducked back inside again to avoid getting drenched. He would have to stay at school for lunch today instead of riding his bike home like he usually did.
He entered the cafeteria and sat his bag down next to Zachary who asked him why hadn’t gone home.
“It’s raining,” he said and made his way to the lunch line. He was the absolute last person in the line because he had arrived so late. By the time he reached the cashier with his food, half the lunch period had already passed. He took out his money to pay for his food, and when he looked up at the cashier, he was surprised to see an unfamiliar man behind the counter. He was short and fat, and his hair was brown but already balding, though he looked to be no older than 30, perhaps. The man was smirking at him.
“They’re laughing at you,” he said.
“What?” asked Terrence, bewildered, “who?”
The man jerked his head to the right, “your friends,” he said staring behind Terrence.
Terrence spun around to see the entire table around Zachary filled with students laughing and pointing at him. His friend had the newspaper ad in his hand and was showing it to everybody.
“Zach!” he yelled, aggravated, “why the hell are you showing it to everyone?”
This just made them laugh harder. He turned away, back to the cashier, who was snickering.
“What?” he asked shortly.
The cashier grinned.
“I told you it was a waste of money,” he said, “people are only going to make fun of you for it. No one will really take it seriously because no one actually noticed the End.”
Terrence stared at him wide-eyed.
“Marvin?” he said incredulously, “oh my god, you’re fat! And ugly, and balding!” He burst out laughing. Marvin scowled at him from his fat face.
“Shut up,” he said, “this is just one of my forms.”
“You look so funny!” said Terrence, laughing.
“Are you going to pay for your lunch or not?”
“Yes, yes, don’t get your panties in a twist!” said Terrence handing him the money, “what are you doing here, anyway?”
“I wanted to make fun of you actually,” Marvin said.
“You’re so lame,” said Terrence, and he left to eat lunch.
When Terrence got home from soccer practice, his mother had left him a note that she and his father had gone out, and that he was to heat up left -overs in the refrigerator for dinner. He had just put a plate with spaghetti in the microwave when the phone rang. He picked it up.
“Hello?” he said into the receiver.
“Hi,” said a voice, “am I speaking to Terrence?”
“Yes,” said Terrence, “who is this please?”
“I am James Padget of the Foundation Church of Divine Truth, and I am calling regarding the personal ad you placed in today’s Daily News,” said the voice, “I understand that you are looking for information regarding the Apocalypse.”
“Yes,” said Terrence suspiciously.
“Well, I understand the confused feelings you must be having right now due to the impending apocalypse,” began the voice, “I want to tell you that the Foundation Church of Divine Truth can put your mind at ease. We are an organization built to provide information concerning the apocalypse as prophesied in the Christian Bible. The Bible states that the end is near and that our departation from God’s earth shall be soon. We are witnesses to the fullfillment of the prophecies of old. The world has gone mad and is growing worse with each passing day. We see the people of the Lord Jesus Christ being tormented, decieved, and thrown about by false doctrines making fake promises. We see people uncaring and oblivious to the true word of the Lord. The Foundation Church of Divine Truth seeks to welcome these people into the arms of the Lord Jesus Christ. All those who repent their sinful past and by faith embrace the Lord as their Savior will pass through the Apocalypse in His arms and shall be Saved from eternal damnation in Hell.”
Terrence began to laugh, “I’m sorry,” he said, “I think you must have called the wrong number,” and he hung up the phone.
He sank into a chair at the kitchen table and stared at the phone. Marvin had been right after all. No one else knew about the End. He was the only one. The thought sank deeply into his mind. He was alone in this, absolutely alone. No one else had felt that sudden feeling of finality that he had felt on that fatal Wednesday afternoon. He’d been hoping all the while that maybe he could have a companion in his search for the delaying of the End, but now all that hope was shattered. There were only looney christian cults who took the apocalypse seriously, but they had it completely wrong. There was nothing religious about this End, that much he could feel for sure.
Part 2: here