as1.e4 – You Talk Too Much

as1.e4

You Talk Too Much (Cheap Trick)

            On the first Saturday in March after our parents left for the other side of the Pacific again, Liesel and I had our first get-together with Edmond that was outside of walking distance. Olive drove us to a humble establishment in Kettlebrook, past the interstate, which I got to pick. The venue was an obvious choice for me.

            Jolly Roger’s Treasure Trove. A place I only had vague memories of, but an old staple for Gen-Xers and the Boomers that preceded them. Once the Main Street Arcade opened in the 80s and got to stealing business, its clock began to tick down and it closed in ’93 or ’94, I didn’t remember for sure. This was a gaming and fun oasis before arcades, with mechanical wonders like pinball and crane machines, Skee-Ball, basketball hoop cabinets—or whatever they were called—air hockey, shooting games… the list went on. And most of them gave out tickets that could be redeemed for “overpriced” prizes.

            Though a lot of the games would survive elsewhere, businesses that offered them exclusively were just about gone by the 2010s, maybe outside of boardwalks. But our own King Arcade would have an area full of stuff like this, now that I thought about it.

            “Yeah, that’s it!” Edmond exclaimed as we watched him work a Skee-Ball unit with remarkable proficiency. “Boom, and another in the 100 hole. You see how the ball just glides right over the bumper… thing… whatever it’s called, like that? Sweet.”

            “Dang, Eddie, how’d you get so good at this?” Liesel wondered.

            “I come here with my dad a lot,” he explained, and Liesel and I glanced over to see Mr. Palmer at one of the pinball machines. “So, um, really cool choice, Maisy. Yeah. Hey, we could go out and play a round of mini-golf next, if you’re up for it.”

            “I think that depends how good you are at it…”

            “Oh, lousy. Horrible, even,” Edmond said with obvious insincerity.

            “Yeah, I don’t really believe you. If you’re this good at something kinda almost similar, I’m pretty sure you just wanna shock us with your skill or whatever.”

            “We don’t really have time today, anyway,” I noted after looking at my watch.

            “Whew, that was a good round.” Edmond wiped some sweat off his face as he waited for the tickets to stop spitting out. He grabbed the lot of the orange rectangles and bunched them up to make something resembling a bouquet before handing them to us. “Here, split ’em amongst yourselves. It might be enough for, like… a finger-trap.”

            “You don’t have’ta keep giving us your tickets to make us feel better!” Liesel said.

            “Pfft. I don’t care that I’m beating you both at most of these games either way. I just don’t really care about prizes, either. Like, what am I gonna do with that junk? The only things worth owning, I’d have to save up for. I don’t have the patience for that.”

            “Are you ever gonna tell us why you’re so grumpy?” Liesel asked as we headed off to find something else to do, and avoided the patrolling pirate mascot on the way who was looking for kids to bother. “It’s not like you’re mean, but it’s still constant.”

            “I’m not grumpy,” Edmond scoffed. “I’m sullen. Whatever that means. My mom uses that word.” We all stopped after turning into an aisle flanked by games when we saw my sister trying way too hard to win something from a claw machine. “Tch, Maisy—you gotta tell her to stop bothering with those. They’re scams; the claw only works right after enough plays. And you wouldn’t even know if you drop the toy anyway.”

            “She has weird tastes in games,” I replied. “And the ones she does play, she gets really intense about, like she has to prove something.” I looked over at the air hockey table, which was finally vacant. “Hey, Edmond. We got time for that round now.”

            “Huh? Oh, air hockey? Um, sure… I guess I could beat you in that, too.”

            Oh, he had no idea. While most students were into beer pong in my university days, I was rocking at something a little more old-school. Well, against the other few that actually wanted to play it. If I wanted to be extra cruel, I could use my powers to try for a perfect game against Edmond, but I didn’t need to humble him that badly.

            “Dang it!” he shouted about five minutes into the round, once I had increased my score to 12-5, and we had attracted a little crowd interested in what constituted high-level play—at least for kids our age. “Maisy! Why are you, like… good at this?”

            I returned fire, “Why did you keep winning at pretty much everything else?”

            “Guys, who cares who wins or loses?” Liesel asked. “This is a good game! It’s thrilling! Look how many spectators you got—keep going until the air turns off!”

            “Hehe,” a boy younger than us laughed near Edmond. “He’s gonna lose to a girl.”

            “Oh, be quiet,” Edmond grumbled and gave his knuckles a crack before putting the puck back down. “That boys-versus-girls stuff is old and tired, kid. I got a cousin that kicks my butt at everything, and even she doesn’t get into that. Give it a rest.”

            After getting shut down, the boy scowled and walked away. Huh. Edmond didn’t like casual sexism; that had to be rare in this day and age. I just learned more about him.

            Air hockey went by very fast, and after several back-and-forth slapshots, I got in one last point against him when the puck went right down the middle. As if the machine was showing Edmond mercy, it shut off a second later, and our audience broke up.

            “Fine, Maisy. You’re good at this one. I’m not the kind that won’t admit stuff.”

            “Aw, Eddie, you were good, too!” Liesel, ever the people-pleaser, cheered.

            “Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, and noticed that his dad was coming over.

            “Did you have some fun with your friends, buddy?” his big, relaxed, bearded pop asked him. “I really do have to get back now, so…” He turned to us and smiled. “Hey, girls, thanks for hanging out with him today. He doesn’t exactly have many pals.”

            “Really, Dad?” Edmond groaned. “Why do parents have to say things like that?”

            “No problem, Mr. Palmer!” Liesel replied chirpily. “Maybe we can do something next weekend, Edmond. See you at recess Monday? We could try some four-square.”

            He slid his hands into his pockets, and as he left with his dad, muttered out just loudly enough for only us to hear, “Yeah, don’t count on that. Weekend…? Maybe…”

            Liesel sighed once he was out of earshot, “Wow, what is his deal?”

            “I take it you both are ready to go, too?” Olive, coming up with a plush panda in one hand, asked us. It looked like cheap knock-off stuff, but she did win something.

            “Uh-huh,” Liesel said, while I responded with a nod. She held up her tickets, and tried to size them up with her eyes. “This… might not be enough for what I want.”

            “Well, you can always save them for next time. I’m sure this place will…” Olive looked around at the sparsely-filled building, “… stick around. A bit longer, at least.”

            “Here,” I said and handed Liesel my share of tickets, which she took happily.

            “Maisy, look at this tiny electronic piano!” Liesel murmured excitedly as we sat in the back of Olive’s car and she played Down by the Bay of all things with a series of beeps from one of those Electron Echo keyboards that were a thing in the 80s and early 90s. “I wonder how many songs I can do on it. Hey, we can share it and say we got it together, you know? Even though Edmond helped, too. I’ll bring it to recess.”

            “It doesn’t even have sharps…” I muttered too quietly for her to hear as I gazed out at the city passing by outside, just before we turned towards central Royal Valley.

            “… Huh,” Olive said from the front. “That’s kind of weird. Your new friend’s car has been just ahead of us this whole time so far. You know where he lives, Maze?”

            A touch tired from the day at the Treasure Trove, I shrugged and replied, “No idea. Edmond doesn’t say much about himself. He’s… kind of an enigma.”

            “And that’s one more word I’m surprised you know… Wow! His dad just turned onto Third Street,” she continued, and I ‘eagerly’ waited the next update—which came about only a minute or so later. “And now Valiant Avenue! This is so strange.”

            “Edmond’s gonna think we’re stalking him and get creeped out,” Liesel joked.

            Hold on. Was these actually some chance that Eddie…

            Suddenly interested, I jolted up and watched Mr. Palmer’s black sedan from between the front seats. When it made a right onto Prosper Street, I couldn’t believe it. If Eddie’s dad actually parked in one of the spots along the apartments, then he either knew where we lived, or… he was always this close by, and somehow I never found out.

            They took the first available spot, and after Olive snagged one a few cars away and the five of us had hopped out and slammed doors, it was Edmond who was the first to react with, “What the heck! Did you guys follow us, or—Dad, did you set this up?”

            “Maisy lives here!” Liesel shouted and pointed to my apartment. “Right there!”

            “How about that! We’re in the next building over!” Edmond’s dad said as his son started freaking out a little, though it wasn’t clear what he might’ve been thinking.

            “That’s crazy!” Olive exclaimed. “Why haven’t we seen each other before?”

            “Well… Hm.” His dad thought as we got closer to each other. “I do take him to school early, and he doesn’t hang around outside here much, so that might explain it.”

            As my own bit of shock lingered, I coolly asked Eddie, “So… Wanna come in?”

            He winced, grumbled, tousled his hair, and replied, “Uh. Sure… Why not?”

            “Ta-dah…” I pushed out a tired old phrase after Olive opened our door and Edmond stepped inside for the first time, because what else was I supposed to say?

            “Looks a lot like my place,” he commented and got to looking around. “About the same size, too, but we don’t have a bay window. All of the band and concert posters on the walls… I’m not surprised. Oh, nice couch…” He stopped before wandering too far into our domain. “Okay, I saw it. Maybe that’s enough for today. I’ll get going.”

            “Aw, don’t be like that, Edmond,” Olive said with a laugh. “I have to go pick up River from Little League practice. You guys can be good for twenty minutes, right?”

            I gave her my assurances and a wave, and she headed out, in an era where it was still usually seen as okay to leave kids alone for a little bit. Once she was gone, Edmond gave the two of us a combined “now what?” and “don’t gang up on me” sort of look.

            “This really is kind of nuts, you know,” Liesel proclaimed. “Maisy’s been here for almost two years, and you just now found out your apartments are next to each other?”

            If only she knew that I hadn’t even ever learned that in a full previous life. Maybe Edmond had moved at some point? His story was beginning to feel like it existed in a strange parallel to my own, and I hadn’t realized it until my second-go at things.

            “Hey, Eddie,” Liesel spoke up again as he explored our living room, and all of its various knickknacks that trended towards bespoke folksy stuff and music memorabilia. “Why won’t you hang out with us on the playground? Would it be embarrassing?”

            “Ugh. Don’t take it personally or whatever,” he said as he knelt down and gave our NES and its small game collection a look. “This all you got in video games, Maze?”

            “Yeaaah…” I admitted. “It’s my brother’s, but we are kind of a basic cable, one movie a month, rentals, last-generation-games-are-good-enough type of family.”

            “I’m not judging,” Edmond said with shrug and stood back up. “Anyway, I don’t want to shake up who the other kids think I am at recess that fast. If we become, like, a trio, then suddenly there will be all these comments about it, and gawking and stuff. ‘It looks like Edmond’s coming out of his shell!’ they’ll say. Or, ‘Oh! Edmond became a socialite!’ Yuck.” He had a very snide ‘mocking voice,’ being a bit of a misanthrope and all, at least when it came to the general populace. “I hate being the center of attention.”

            “That’s what you’re afraid of?” Liesel scoffed. “Come on, Edmond. You know that’ll last, like, one day. They’ll move on quick. I think it’s really about something else.”

            “No, no, no,” he shot her down. “Don’t even get started on how ‘boy and two girls’ trios are ‘rare’ or ‘cute’ or whatever. I told you; I don’t care about stuff like that. I’ve seen my share of them, anyway. That happens when you sit in the back and just… watch people. Sure, those friend groups try to hide it sometimes, but I don’t get why.”

            “Oh,” Liesel said, noticeably red-faced. “I didn’t realize you felt that way.”

            “People just get too caught up in boy-girl stuff, that’s all,” Edmond huffed, and went over to the family’s massive multi-shelf collection of CDs, where over a thousand albums from a multitude of genres formed a library. His hands in his pockets, he leaned in for a closer study. “Wow, that’s a lot of music. Maisy, are your parents in a rock band, or what? I haven’t even heard of a lot of these artists. And how are they organized?”

            “By release year and then band, actually,” I explained. “It’s unusual, I know, but that’s just the way they like it. They say it helps them find albums faster. They used to be in a folk group, but… haven’t played in years. Still collect, though. Obviously.”

            “Folk, huh? That’s like, protest songs, right? Stuff from the 60s?”

            While mildly impressed that he knew what a protest song was, I still had to be assertive and correct him, “Sure, but there’s a lot more to the music than that, and it goes back a long way. You know, if you want to hang around and listen to some songs…”

            “Er… Not on my first visit to your place. I have to, like, get used to the space first before I can relax, you know?” He noticed an album on top of the ‘recent plays’ stack that was piling up on a side table, and picked it up to study the cover. “Whoa, what’s up with this guitar? It’s shaped like a person? And it has two necks?”

            Seeing that he was looking at Cheap Trick’s 1983 Next Position Please album, I blurted out a small chuckle and replied, “Sure. Custom guitars get made all the time—and double-necked ones aren’t really unusual or anything. Here, I’ll show you a few…”

            Edmond and Liesel were both staring at me after I stuck a hand in my pocket, as if waiting for something to happen. I realized it must’ve been a vestigial impulse of sorts; I had just reached for a phone that wasn’t there, to search for pictures of unusual axes.

            “Um… Heh,” I said with a grin. “I sometimes carry around this miniature picture book full of guitar types. Guess I thought it was in my pocket for some reason.”

            “Uh-huh. That’s cool, Maisy… So, where are your parents, anyway?”

            “They’re not here for three months, twice a year. For work stuff.”

            “Wait, what? They just abandon you for half the year and make your sister watch over you and your brother? I’ve heard of weird family arrangements, but that…”

            “Edmond!” Liesel chided him. “Maisy can’t help it. And don’t say abandoned.”

            “It’s okay; it is a little weird,” I agreed, and then I twisted the truth like Olive, as I doubt he knew what a timeshare was—nor did I really want that fact to reach anyone who did know. “They sell vacation houses in far-off places. But it’s fine. We get by.”

            Edmond rubbed his chin and considered our lifestyle. “I guess that could be sort of cool, though? Getting to live with a young ‘parent’ like that… Is Olive strict?”

            “Not… really? But she can get pretty snippy if we don’t follow the few rules she does have. Anyway, you sure you don’t wanna listen to music? I could blow your mind.”

            “Sounds neat, but I think I’m gonna get going before a big bro shows up. Seeing someone’s home for the first time makes me nervous enough. Meeting two people in one day… That’s too much for me. So, yeah—see you on the playground. From a distance.”

            And with that, he headed out on his own. Not like I wanted him to feel trapped.

            “Big social butterfly, that one,” Liesel remarked dryly. She then annoyed me by taking out her new pocket piano and playing a ditty. “You wanna give it a try yet?”

            “I don’t get why some kids want to be popular, and others never do. Even if it’s fleeting. What’s wrong with making an impact? Some go after big scores in arcade games and leave their initials behind. Others carve ’em into trees. And a few really want to be known for something—like starting rumors, giving advice, or knowing fashion trends. And then you have… Edmond. Who lies back to watch what everyone else is doing.”

            On the other side of the tub, River rinsed his hair and replied while his eyes were likely still closed, “Why are you asking me? We got kids who are known for a ‘thing’ in our grade, too. I’m sure the generation before us was the same, and the next will be also, but as far as how we all become a certain way? I guess it depends on our folks and what they get us into, right? But we’re still different from our parents, and tastes change.”

            Better about sharing, I draped my arms over the side of the tub and stared into the bath mat forest before asking, “What about you, Riv? Who are you during recess?”

            “Well… we don’t have a diamond for kick or baseball, so I mostly watch the four square and tetherball games and cheer for the underdogs. Maybe trade baseball cards.”

            “Ever go into the actual fort area? Or the big old climbing dome?”

            “Not really. They’re too busy—and by fourth grade, too much of a circus of drama and gossip. What about you? Are you ‘known’ for anything yet?”

            “Nah… I’m waiting for the right time. I’m fine with just hanging with Liesel.”

            “And now this Edmond kid, huh?”

            “Maybe. We’ll see.” I put my arm up and rested on my elbow for a moment like I was Linus on a brick wall. “It’s strange how the playground—but I think only the one at school where the entire grade is forced together—is where we’re really just… us. It won’t last that long, and it’ll be gone after fifth grade, but while we do have it… It’s kind of our own little world. Where we have just the right amount of freedom to find ourselves.”

            I felt River staring at me, and glanced over to confirm that he was indeed, under his dripping hair. But it almost felt like I had said something wrong.

            “Y-yeah… sure, Maze… You have these really big thoughts sometimes, ya know? In fact, it’s kind of weird. It’s like, some weeks, you’re all shy and quiet, and others, you seem different and talk about music like you know all about it, or other deep… stuff.”

            Crap, was I really acting so out of character whenever I was in control? It wasn’t like I could observe my other, past self to see how my actions were affecting her. Maybe I should just go back and erase some of my previous musings.

            As I considered doing so, River suddenly got out without giving me a warning first, and I saw his… swimming trunks. Since we started taking lessons last month in advance of King Arcade’s promised water park, we now had suits at our disposal that made us both feel more comfortable about this whole thing. If not a little less clean.

            “Um, look, Maze… We’re gonna be eight and ten soon, and this is starting to feel a little strange, even with these things on. You’re really smart, too, so… I think I’ll talk to Olive and convince her to let you take baths by yourself from now on. Just don’t put your head in the water, okay? We’re finally getting that shower put in, anyway.”

            “But that’s still a week from now. Are you sure I’m really old enough?”

            “Yeah. You sound older than me sometimes.” He gave me a little smile, and left.

            I stretched out and sank into the full length of the tub, thinking about what just happened. I skipped nearly all of the three months and one week of cringey bonding time that once got me to share stuff while feeling vulnerable. Now the chance had passed.

            After I bounced around a bit across multiple days to check on things for any disasters and make sure Eddie was still in the trio, and mostly left the other Maisy to her own devices, I ended my revisit of second grade by going to a hot day of recess in May to see it as a seven-year-old for the last time. Unless I chose to not make it the last time.

            What I jumped into came as a bit of a surprise. Liesel and I were actually on the metal bars at the top of the climbing dome, which was a bit dangerous but also had the best view of the area. Even more unexpected: Edmond was with us, in the open, right where everyone could see him. He even looked a little afraid to come back down. And I couldn’t blame him, since at least a couple dozen students, most of them I wasn’t very familiar with but must’ve been in his class and knew him better, surrounded us.

            “This feels like Tremors…” Edmond groaned. “When they’re on the rock to avoid the sand worms. Ugh! Why’d you have to go and do that, Liesel? And on the last day of school! I told you how my classmates would react because of my cool loner reputation!”

            “Hey, Eddie!” a boy shouted up at us over the rest of the chatter. “Are you really hanging out with a couple of girls now? Which one are you gonna kiss first?”

            “Oh, hush!” Liesel fired back. “It’s not like that! You’re all just surprised that Edmond actually does have friends. You know, maybe if some of you were nice to him, he wouldn’t’a had to make ones from Mr. Landis’ class!”

            “Not helping, again, Leese…” Edmond grumbled in embarrassment as another round of laughter erupted. “If everyone saw us together at the start of third grade, I’m telling you—they would’ve been a lot more chill, and probably just curious about ‘what happened’ over summer. ‘Oh, how did they become friends?’ Then they’d move onto some other new school year development! But now, we’re the talk of the whole grade!”

            “W-well, geez, Edmond… I didn’t think it’d be this bad. Is it even bad? I mean, all they’re doing is talking about you! Unless… Do you really have that much of a rep?”

            Edmond covered up his eyes and groaned. “I don’t want to talk about it!”

            Man, what the heck did I miss? Did Edmond have some kind of history that only his class knew about? As I looked around at this prime example of a reactionary mob formed out of a perceived hierarchy of childhood scandals, I wondered how this had all started. Granted, our friendship would probably survive, albeit with a scuff mark, but would it be worth sparing Eddie from a painful memory? I chose to go back and see.

            “Liesel, I told you I don’t want to do that!” Edmond said after I arrived at a few minutes earlier, and he was back on his tire with his Game Boy in one hand. “And you better not go around telling anyone, either. Can’t we just wait until third grade?”

            “But, Eddie, think about it!” Liesel argued, “It’s the last day of the year, so it’s not like you’ll have to put up with the gossip tomorrow, and by the time school starts again, everyone will have forgotten all about it and our trio is just a normal thing!”

            Ah, now I see what happened. Liesel was all around solid, dependable, and tried to avoid drama, but if she had a flaw, it was that she always had a bit of a naïve outlook on life, like we were all living in a technicolor Disney musical where there were no bad intentions and everyone else was always prepared to have a good-faith celebration. She was trying to make a “fun” end-of-year surprise by announcing that the three of us were officially a little squad, and that, shockingly, Edmond could make friends. Thing was, he didn’t need that, he didn’t want it, and I already knew it would blow up in her face.

            “You know what,” Liesel sighed with her hands on her hips, “I think I’m gonna go tell everyone that me and Maze are friends with you. We’re free to do that, aren’t we? Then you’ll realize that it’s nothing to be ashamed of. It won’t even feel like ripping off a Band-Aid.” She turned to me and grinned. “C’mon, Maisy. Let’s stop hiding it!”

            “Leese, please,” Edmond pleaded. “I’m just not like you are around other people!”

            “Hold on, Liesel,” I intervened and tried to temper her excitement. “I think we need to let Edmond take things at his own pace. If he isn’t ready to ‘celebrate’ that we’re all buddies, then we should… Well… respect that. It’d be the nice thing to do.”

            As Eddie breathed out in relief, Liesel dropped her smiled and stared at me. “Are you for real? Just a few minutes ago, you were being your usual quiet self and was all like, ‘sure, that could be fun.’” She groaned. “Fine. I won’t do it if it’s two against one.”

            “I didn’t think he’d hate the idea that much,” I tried to mediate things. “Let’s just focus on having fun this summer, okay? We won’t need to be sneaky all break, so who cares if someone we know sees us hanging out, when they can’t turn it into some big thing at school.” I noticeably stared out at the shed again, and added, “Besides, next year… maybe the others won’t care so much about who’s friends with who.”

            “Thanks, Maisy…” Edmond muttered. “And you’re back to looking at that shed. You must really wanna get in there, huh? Sometimes, it feels like you’re planning things.”

            “Maybe I am cooking up something.” A thought struck me. I’d saved Edmond from his last-day humiliation, but maybe today was a good day to test the waters of my long-term plan—which I was still only flattening the earth for; the foundation had yet to be poured. I turned to the pals I’d need to expand upon and got it out. “How would you feel about starting a band?” They just stared at me, unsure how to react. “For real.”

            “Um. What?” Edmond said and turned off his Game Boy. “What do you mean?”

            “Liesel can play piano, or keyboard. I can… I mean, I’m going to learn how to play guitar over the summer probably, and Edmond… you can be our behind-the-scenes guy and maybe also write songs? We can find a place for you. We just need a drummer, and another guitarist, and, oh, maybe a third guitarist, or someone who can play strings…”

            The other two looked at one another, then back to me, and Liesel replied, “That sounds, u-um… That sounds really scary. You want us to get in front of people and play music? I only know a few simple songs! And Eddie’s too shy for that sorta thing.”

            “Guys, relax!” I said with soothing gestures, my goal being to plant an idea that could grow over time. “It wouldn’t happen until, like, middle school, at the earliest.”

            “Oh. That’s a really long time from now.” Liesel eased up, and probably thought that I’d forget all about it by then, or move onto some other dream. “Fun idea, though.”

            “Fun?” Edmond scoffed. “You just said it would be scary. A-and… it really is.”

            “Yeah, kinda. But when we’re older, maybe it won’t be so much, right?” She then looked out at the playground with us. “This year felt like it would last forever, didn’t it?”

            Not for me, of course. And I wasn’t sure if you could get back that feeling of the days lasting longer as a kid on a revisit, even without skipping through the days.

            That evening, I went into the bathroom and pulled back our new vinyl curtain to look at the freshly-installed shower head, which Olive had picked out about three whole months ago. Finally. It’d save time, and more importantly for her, water. But now she was limiting baths to once a week, which sucked because I had grown fond of them.

            It sounded quiet out there, so I turned the faucet and kept the flow low to see if I could sneak one in—only for her to shout, “Maisy, you better not be filling the tub!”

            Tch. Her hearing was always too good. “Just want to soak my feet!” I yelled back, and begrudgingly got the shower going, which put out a whiff of copper. “Damn it…”

            Life may have been a series of trade-offs and consequences, but it also awarded the brave, in the form of getting to find new places or experiences. Seeing Eddie’s home was definitely a risky such adventure. It took months’ worth of convincing from Liesel, but on a Saturday in mid-June, he finally relented and allowed us to make the “trek” to his apartment from mine. Having never seen it, I wasn’t sure what to expect, what with his famous coolness. Something scary? Something strange, or that we’d find humiliating?

            The real danger: here was a kid opening his abode to friends for the first time, as far as we knew, ever, and he was liable to kick us right back out if we so much as let slip a snicker towards whatever he or his parents had on display, being as sensitive as he was.

            But it turned out that his place was remarkably normal, or at least his living room was. Liesel and I went in knowing he’d be very reluctant to show off his personal inner sanctum on a first visit, or perhaps anytime soon. Trust was a slow road with Eddie.

            “Oh, Edmond, these are your little friends?” his homemaker mom said peppily as she greeted us at the door and let us inside. “Well, isn’t that just delightful?”

            “Mom…” he mumbled. “Don’t make it weird, okay?”

            “Now, Eddie, I’m just saying hello. Let’s see… You must be Liesel, and you have to be Maisy. You’re from Chicago—is that right, dear? I have family there.”

            I gave her a nod, and wondered if she had to restrain herself from calling her son a “lady’s man,” or something in that ballpark to avoid upsetting him. Then again, he may have gotten his “gender-is-no-big-thing” views from her in the first place. His dad didn’t comment on it, either, so his parents must’ve been chill. Heck, was the 90s something of an exception to a more historical conformity about it being fine and normal for boys and girls to just be friends? Thinking about it, it might’ve only seemed to stand out more this decade; it felt like something that got lampooned in movies and shows more often. But maybe I was just thinking too much. Or my interpretation was wrong in the first place.

            “So, this is my living room…” Edmond started his likely one-room tour. “I told you it looks sorta similar to Maisy’s. Our stereo and CD collection is over in that corner. Not as big as her family’s. And there’s my TV. I think it is pretty big… compared to the TVs most people have. Not that I’m bragging. My dad likes to watch movies.”

            “Whoa—do you have three game consoles?” Liesel asked and leaned in for a look at two gray boxes, one black one, and a mess of wires and controllers under the TV.

            “Uh-huh. NES, Super Nintendo, Sega… My parents give me a lot of gifts. Not sure if they’re doing it to make me happy because they think I’m sad all the time, which isn’t true, or if it’s just because I’m an only child and that’s, like, a normal thing?”

            “I mean, I guess if you have doting parents. Sooo… now what?” Liesel skimmed the place for other curiosities. “It’s nice, Eddie, but what are you gonna show us next?”

            He suddenly looked more aloof than usual, and hesitantly replied, “That’s sort of all I planned to do today—giving you the introduction. It’s a big step for me.”

            “Really?! Why are you such a ‘one-step-at-a-time’ kind of…” Liesel looked at my calming eyes and sighed. “Fine. Your own pace. But we gotta do something else.”

            “Why don’t we just get that ride to the movie now? We want to make sure we get tickets, and can pick good seats, and see all the previews, have time to buy snacks…”

            “Edmond, we have two hours to kill,” I reminded him. “And The Queen is about five minutes away. Besides, we can’t go until my brother and his friends are ready.”

            “Oh. All right.” He puffed out. “Then… how about… some video games?”

            “Great choice!” Liesel said and turned back to the shelf of cartridges she’d been browsing. “You got a big collection, so… How about this one? Me and Maisy play it.”

            “N-no Nintendo games! NES ones, I mean. Super is fine.” We both stared at him, wondering why he was nervous, and silently forced him to explain. “The original Nintendo is my dad’s system. I’ll play some of them, sure, but I have to pick carefully.”

            “Because… some games are… fragile? Or rare?” Liesel forced out a reason.

            “No…” Edmond now looked just plain embarrassed. “It’s the… black screens a lot of them have… Like, the backgrounds are just solid black? L-like a creepy void? They kind of scare me,” he explained, and we looked at him incredulously. “I know it’s a weird phobia, okay? Can we just pick a ‘snez’ game instead? Most of them are actually mine.”

            “Yeah, sure,” Liesel agreed, to spare him further shame. She slid a game off the shelf and replied, “How about Super Mario Kart? I saw it on display, but haven’t played it yet.” After Edmond nodded, she added, “You know, it’s okay to be scared of things that don’t frighten others. And if you might be scared of this movie we’re seeing today…”

            “Agh! We’re not cancelling, and I’m not scared of dinosaurs attacking people!”

            “Okay! Great! But it’s still okay if you have to cover your eyes. I won’t laugh.”

            “You’re driving me crazy, Leese! Just put the game in so I can beat you in a race!”

            On that hot and sunny afternoon, Olive dropped off the four of us at The Queen, where a line had formed for the box office. Being a traditional and historic downtown cinema that I missed dearly by my college years, it was still the kind of venue where you bought your ticket at a little kiosk outside the main building. And up on the marquee were those old-fashioned black letters on white.

            Showing today: the incorrectly-made, original Super Mario Bros. movie, Cliffhanger, Menace II Society, and of course, the one most of the kids and adults were here to see.

            “Bye, guys!” Olive said and waved to us from the five-minute parking zone in front of the theater. “River, the quarters I gave you are for a payphone; if anything at all happens to Maisy or her friends, you leave that movie theater and call me right away, got it? Be safe, everyone. And have fun at your silly dinosaur movie!”

            Olive could enjoy movies, too, but she didn’t keep up on them or care much about opening weekends, instead relying on word of mouth to reach her. That applied even to one of the movies people think about when they hear the numbers, “1993.”

            “She still has no idea how big this will be…” I said with a small laugh.

            “You think so?” River asked at my side as his eyes swept the line. “Did we beat Penny and Carlos here, or… Oh—there they are. Come on, they’re holding for us.”

            “Just a sec, River!” Liesel said as he headed off. She took out a disposable camera and made us pose in front of the theater, so she could take what we’d all one day call a selfie. “Edmond, smile!” she urged him as she squeezed us together. “Or at least don’t frown. C’mon, it’s the first time we’re seeing a movie together. Like, at all!”

            She took the picture, but we’d have no idea how much curvature Edmond might have had on his chops until it was developed sometime in the future. We then caught up to River, who was with his friends and Little League teammates.

            While the other kids, teens, and adults in line were probably fine with just one kid joining the spot-holders, there were audible complaints when three more joined them.

            “Hey, come on,” a dad with two boys wearing dinosaur t-shirts whined.

            “Sorry, man,” Carlos replied with a shrug. “I’m sure you’ll still get tickets.”

            “Hi Maze and Liesel! What’s up?” Penny asked us from under her baseball cap and red frizzy hair. “You ready to see some dino mayhem, or just Jeff Goldblum?”

            “You got weird tastes, Penny. Why’d you watch that Earth Girls movie, anyway?”

            “It was on cable and I was bored, duh. Hm?” Penny noticed Edmond and his half-hearted attempt to ‘hide’ behind Liesel as we all stepped forward. “Is that the other friend your brother told us about, Maze? He shy? Hey, you might as well come out and say hi. Olive’s making us sit with you guys anyway. Ooo, big ‘scary’ PG-13 movie here…”

            Now more annoyed than timid, Edmond revealed himself and his latest frown.

            “Huh? Hey, Penn, I know this kid,” Carlos said. “Yeah, I’ve seen him around, at parks and stuff. Dude’s a pretty slick little skateboarder. But, always on his own.”

            “Not anymore!” Liesel stated. “We’re a trio now, like you guys are.”

            “Do you do most of the talking between the three of you?” Carlos asked, though jokingly—and got an eye roll out of Edmond. “Eh, amigos come in all kinds, you know? I didn’t think much of River when I first saw him, and he’s kinda quiet and thoughtful like you seem to be, Maze, but now he fits right in with us. I can’t explain it, not all the way. I mean, we all like baseball, and have similar tastes in games, and music, and TV…”

            “Isn’t that already, like, more than enough?” Penny said with a raised eyebrow.

            “Are any of you any good at baseball?” Edmond asked a little curtly.

            “Sure, we’re okay. Carlos might not be the greatest at the actual game, but he can run bases really fast and gets steals in. I specialize in bunting and getting walks, and Riv is… He’s aiming to become a pitcher. He’s a nervous hitter and doesn’t swing enough, but he can surprise us and suddenly make a home run. He’s gotten six, so far.”

            “Is that true?” I replied. “He doesn’t really talk about the games at home.”

            “Yeah. He’s modest. Or just doesn’t like talking about himself,” Carlos remarked.

            “So, anyone read the book?” River changed the subject so quickly that I didn’t think anyone knew what he was referring to right away. “It’s a little disturbing in places. I bet they toned some of it down. See, it’s really about tampering with nature—”

            “Riv, don’t tell me!” Carlos interrupted. “I like going in blind for movies! Heck, sometimes I even hang out in the hall until it starts, just to avoid the previews.”

            We finally stepped up to the box office window, where River combined his trio’s portion of the money with ours, and requested, “Um, six for Jurassic Park, please.”

            He likely expected it anyway, but when River said the title, the dad behind us began to look really nervous. Maybe his boys were tantrum-prone. On the other hand, one of them was, like, four and honestly a bit too young to be seeing something like this.

            But, the three ended up behind us in the concession line, so all was right.

            I was sure I’d seen a few films at The Queen by now and could remember which ones if I thought about it, but this was the first time I had actually visited it while time-traveling. And it was just like I recalled, with the gold-leaf pillars and Sistine Chapel-style painting on the ceiling honoring classic Hollywood and its actors, despite their many flaws. Also under the watchful eyes of people like Gable, Bogart, Keaton, Monroe, Garland, and many others were two sets of those weird pleather round lobby chairs with a space in the middle for fake plants, which I must’ve not seen anywhere for decades.

            Now, sure, as far as movies went, I had a strong preference for human dramas, the more down-to-earth the better—especially with relatable everyday characters who were rough around the edges but good-hearted and struggling to get by. Or the rare good music biopics, too, of course. But I had room in my mental repertoire for every genre, as long as the stories were fun and they weren’t made for a cheap cash in.

            And Jurassic Park in particular? Well, there was a reason I wasn’t going to miss a chance to revisit this day, with one new audience member in tow. I could never get sick of seeing it, for one, and the experience itself—feeling like a “cool big kid” and getting to go to my first PG-13 movie with River and his friends—was a precious memory. This may not have been some 4K remaster-rerelease with Dolby Atmos, and it was going to look dark when watched from one of The Queen’s old projectors… but I was here.

            “Ohmigosh! Maisy! Liesel!” I heard a semi-familiar voice as we waited to get candy and popcorn. I turned to see Sarah Malone. Like Olive, she loved oversized baggy shirts, only she got random movie poster graphics custom-printed on them. There hadn’t been many dinosaur movies, especially recently, so she’d just gone with a King Kong 1976 top today. She tugged at her slacker cousin Scott’s arm and said, “One sec, wanna say hi!”

            Scott gave her a shrug and waited by the doors as Sarah skipped over to us and the big departing crowd that they’d just seen the most obvious movie with headed out.

            “Hey, guys!” she said as expressively as always. “What’cha going to?”

            “Dinos, what else?” Liesel replied, and we shuffled forward in our new line.

            “I knew it. We went to the early show! Ohmigosh, the dinosaurs looked sooo real!”

            “One of your classmates, Maze?” Penny asked, and looked at Sarah’s big puff of frizzy hair that was similar to her own but curlier, and not hidden under a cap.

            Before I could answer the simple question, Sarah noticed Edmond. After her eyes had gotten a bit bigger, she leaned in and whispered, “I think Edmond followed you.”

            “Nah, he’s with us,” Liesel casually revealed, and he grimaced slightly.

            “Wow! Really? Did you all start hanging out this summer?”

            Edmond looked nervous, but Liesel replied, “Yeah. He’s actually pretty cool.”

            “Hm. Neat… Okay, gotta go! See you when school starts again!”

            “At least you didn’t say we’ve been ‘secret friends’ or something since March…” Edmond huffed. “But, see, now she can’t just go blab to the whole school at once.”

            “I know how you feel, and we got your back, Eddie,” Liesel assured him.

            “You… have trouble making friends, too?” River suddenly questioned. “And you worry too much about what other people think if you’re seen with them?”

            “Well, yeah, sorta,” Edmond said. “It’s not so easy for everyone. But you go to our school, too, don’t you? Did anyone say anything when you three started hanging out?”

            River and his friends glanced at one another, and then he admitted something that I hadn’t necessarily forgotten, but just hadn’t really considered recently.

            “Penny and Carlos, um… We go to different schools,” River explained. “I got a few kids I’m cool with at RVE, and we chat and stuff, but I haven’t really made any real friends there yet. And next year will be my last chance to, now that I think about it…”

            “Oh. That’s too bad,” Liesel replied. “But you’re a nice guy, River—so I’m sure you can find a buddy or two in fifth grade. Do things just not ‘click’ with others, or…”

            “Maybe? I don’t know. Everyone’s just so… loud on the playground. At least at Little League, I know right away we all like baseball, so it’s easier to connect over that. If we weren’t all on the same team, I’m not sure I’d have any friends yet.”

            “But then what school do Penny and Carlos go to?” Liesel wondered.

            “East Haven,” Penny answered. “The next closest over.”

            Inexplicably, Edmond suddenly looked angry, and he grumbled, “East Haven…”

            “Heh, something wrong?” Carlos asked him as we became the next in line to order food. Unoffended, he added, “I’ve heard there have been rivalries, in the past.”

            “Just forget it,” Edmond insisted. “Anyone want to share a Good & Plenty?”

            “Ew!” Liesel pretended to gag, earning an Eddie scowl. “You like licorice? Blech!”

            Penny grinned. “I bet you hate the smell, too. Too bad! I’m getting Twizzlers!”

            Though Liesel wasn’t happy about getting stuck between Eddie, Penny, and their licorice, and moaned during the previews each time they enjoyed their treats, she mostly forgot all about it when the movie started. John Williams’ legendary score took us to Isla Nublar and began a terrible good time, and I could tell that the others were invested as soon as a poorly planned raptor transfer went awry. It didn’t matter to them that the next twenty minutes was all paleontology and legalese, followed by some tall herbivores, and was then mostly dino-free again until the famous t-rex breakout scene.

            They kept on the edge of their seats, whether they were waiting for creatures to appear or were held in breathless suspense as the lawyer got munched and Tim and Lex became possible side dishes. If they ever took their eyes off the screen and looked at me, they’d likely wonder why I was chilling with my knees up, eating popcorn. I also realized I missed film cigarette burns. They’re a reminder that a person’s up there changing reels.

            Whenever there were flashes on the screen that lit up the theater, or during the daylight scenes, I’d get peeks at the others to gauge their reactions. Liesel was the only one who ever occasionally covered her eyes, while River did flinch a few times. Carlos seemed to have my sardonic sense of humor and chuckled during tense moments, but Edmond and Penny usually just sat there in wide-eyed wonder, absorbing everything. I did notice Edmond actually gasp at least one time, though—when Tim got shocked and was blasted off the electric fence. I mean, everyone had a pretty similar reaction, but I kind of wondered if he might’ve really empathized with the boy’s injury in that moment.

            As we headed into the visitor center for the final chase sequence and showdowns with the raptors, which were almost as mean as second-graders could get, our group, like the crowd, experienced a variety of emotions. They cheered when one of the raptors got locked in a freezer, had no idea what a Unix system was, and let out more gasps when the t-rex somehow snuck up on everyone and took a bite out of the oversized killer lizards.

            “I’m glad Dr. Malcolm lived this time,” River said among chatter and other noisy remarks as the credits began to roll and we waited to break out of our aisle. “He’s cool.”

            “Whaaat? You mean he died in the book?” Penny replied, looking shocked.

            “I thought the people were gonna fight back more,” Carlos said. “The only dino they took out was the one made into a popsicle. Even the hunter guy didn’t kill any!”

            “The humans kind of deserved it, you know…” Edmond muttered his opinion.

            Once the large audience had thinned out a little, we were freed from our seats and returned to the hallway to begin our trek to the exit. All around us, kids and adults alike talked about what they had just watched, and I spotted the four-year-old boy from earlier throwing his arms up in the air and requesting to see it again. I think when you’re that young, you can sort of filter out the most violent or scary parts of a movie. Maybe?

            “Yeah, see, in the book, the military comes in and fire-bombs the whole island,” River continued to explain the differences with his friends. “But I don’t think anyone in there wanted to see the friendly dinosaurs get cooked, too.”

            “I mean, I guess it makes it easier for sequels to happen, also,” Penny noted.

            “That was sooo scary at times,” Liesel said with a shudder. “It felt like the big t-rex could’ve popped out at any moment, anywhere. And then those nasty raptors…”

            “It wasn’t that scary,” Edmond scoffed. “I would’ve gone to that island. The park looked cool. But I don’t really get why they had all those desserts around when it wasn’t even opened to visitors yet. And that computer looked like a pain in the butt to use!”

            “Oh, you’re one of those movie-watchers that thinks about things way too much, aren’t you?” Liesel teased. “Still… why didn’t the car doors have locks, anyway?”

            I just smiled and enjoyed the banter. Friendly, casual back-and-forth chats among friends were something I lived for, and I’d been left hungry in the distant future.

            In the lobby, as we were about to leave, I did a double-take to confirm a surprise concession line appearance. Since I was in a group that had rides to catch, I couldn’t just approach him or even observe his squad for more than a moment, but just feet away was Wes Colton. There was no doubt he and his buds were seeing the next JP showing, as he was doing a raptor impression, with his arms tucked in and his hands shaped liked claws.

            Charlie wasn’t with them today, but his group was still even bigger than ours. A man who I ventured a guess was his dad was in charge of the lot, and somehow had to wrangle Wes, a younger girl in a big green shirt, a scraggly blond boy, a boy with kind of a protective disposition and a cowlick, a girl in pigtails and overalls, a girl with freckles and braids, and a pair of bespectacled boy-girl… were they twins? What a crew.

            “Maisy, come on,” River pulled at my hand as I stared at them as long as I could, “Olive’s waiting outside. We should tell her about how ‘silly’ the movie was. Heh…”

            “Right…” I murmured and turned to leave. “Too late to unsee the violence now.”

            June 12th, 1993. I need a break from talking about family so I can get out a few other thoughts before I forget them. First of all, seeing JP again really got me thinking about how chaos theory applies in my own life with all the changes from time-traveling.

            I’d actually argue that despite all of Malcolm’s lectures, it’s not really a big part of the story’s events. Okay, the dinosaurs laying fertile eggs wasn’t predicted, but it’s not relevant to the plot unless you’re worried they’ll die out. You also have the big sudden storm as an unpredictable factor, but the only thing it actually does is set the stage for how bumbling Nedry meets his end after likely missing the departing boat anyway.

            His character, of course, is meant to be the example of chaos theory at play, the wrench thrown into the works and why the park fails before it opens. Thing is, if he had just maybe been paid a little more, the whole movie might not have happened. As much as I love stories about mankind bringing about its own downfalls through hubris, all this one really proves in the end is that Hammond is a cheapskate. I’ll always stick up for the subservient worker. Well, unless he truly was asking for an exorbitant raise.

            In my own life, chaos theory and the butterfly effect are things I’ll really have to keep an eye on going forward, and I might have to “slow down” and not skip ahead so often or so far, especially once my plans begin to take shape. I’ve already shifted the old course by getting Edmond to form a trio, and I have no idea how he’ll alter our lives yet.

            The second thing: I need to give a shout out to those baths. Do I still find them embarrassing? You bet. But they were so far out of my comfort zone that they became therapeutic, mentally. I skipped the pre-bathing suit ones, but those I did sit through…

            When I feel vulnerable, I eventually start talking about anything at all to make a moment less awkward. Which usually ends up with me getting into stuff like worries, doubts, and general observations about life as a kid. I couldn’t mention life in the 21^st century, or anything about being an adult, but by disguising what I was actually talking about, I took off pounds of the weight that had been on my shoulders for decades.

            I shared problems and complaints that Charlie would only ever just brush off as “whining.” River’s the best listener; totally nonjudgmental, and occasionally able to offer up actual good, insightful advice. I really missed just being able to talk with him.

            As Olive drove us back to our street that day, there was a small and unexpected development in the way of Liesel casually, maybe half-jokingly, asking Edmond if he wanted to see her place tomorrow to “complete the triangle.” Her words; it didn’t make sense, but me and Eddie knew what she meant. Surprisingly, he agreed with one of his shrugs, giving me a reason to stick around in this weekend a little longer.

            So, on Sunday, I met Edmond outside and we both took off on our skateboards, helmets safely on our heads. Liesel’s place was just a few blocks away—any further and I probably wouldn’t have been given permission to go without Olive. It was a fairly plain and ordinary townhouse fit snug and right in the middle of a row of them, each looking like they were out of San Francisco, and built maybe a decade after our old apartment.

            “You’re a few minutes early!” Liesel exclaimed after she opened the door for us, a piece of toast with jam in one hand. “Oh, well. Not like I’ll make you wait ten minutes.”

            “We took a shortcut through an alley,” Edmond said as we and our boards went inside. “We weren’t gonna, but Maisy was, like, ‘yeah, I see why you wouldn’t want to.’”

            “I didn’t mean anything by it,” I groaned. “Not everything’s a dare, you know.”

            “How long are you going to stay, though?” Liesel wondered and took another bite of toast. “Do you plan on just looking at my living room and then telling us ‘that’s enough for one day?’ Or… we could instead hang out in my mom’s recording studio. As long as we’re careful with the equipment. She doesn’t use any of it on Sundays.”

            “Your mom has a studio?” Edmond replied. “You never told me. What’s she do?”

            “Mostly turn pop songs into the kind of music you hear at stores, but if no one buys it, she doesn’t get paid. Oh, and jingles for local commercials sometimes, too. She just uses keyboards and it’s all digital, through wires and stuff, so there’s not, like, a microphone or soundproofing… but it’s still cool to see all the equipment. Hey, we could even record a little song and play it back on a computer!”

            “Sounds neat, I guess. It’s something new to do, at least.”

            “Leesie, honey, you’re getting crumbs every… Oh, hello Maisy,” Liesel’s mom said as she came into the kitchen. She carried Theo, now an active toddler in need of some food. “And you must be Edmond. So, do you all need a ride somewhere, or…”

            “Mom, can I show them the studio?” Liesel asked her. “We’ll be careful!”

            “Hm. Sure, dear… Just don’t delete anything on the computer this time, okay?”

            Up on the second floor, we went into a spare bedroom with a single window that had been transformed into a workplace. Its walls were bare and free of distraction, and all that was inside were several different keyboards, though only one was in use and on its stand. Other than the headphones connected to it, a chair, and a computer desk that hosted a currently modern Windows 3.1 PC tower, there was really nothing in here. I had gotten peeks of the room on my visits, but this was my first time inside.

            “Mm, cool. Yeah…” Edmond said, half-enthused, as he looked at the big Yamaha and its various buttons and dials. “Little tip, though, Leese—you should usually ask for permission before you promise to show your friends something.”

            “Pfft, I knew she’d be okay with it,” Liesel replied and plopped into the chair, where she played a few notes at random. “Hey, Maze. I’m starting to learn some more complex songs. And I’ve been thinking a little about your crazy band idea.”

            “I’m not going to be in a band,” Edmond stated with a sigh. “I don’t even play.”

            “But you could learn! I could picture you… Hm. Maybe on a bass guitar.”

            “Nah. By the way, Leese… If it’s okay to ask, what’s the deal with your dad?”

            I flinched, but it probably went unnoticed. Liesel’s father was a sore spot.

            “My parents aren’t… married. Sometimes he’s here for a few months in a row, but then he goes back to his tiny apartment. I think he’s afraid of… what was that word in that one show Mom watches…? Oh, yeah. Commitment? Mom puts up with it, but after he’s here for a while and tries to help, he gets kind of… anxious? And then leaves again.”

            “Wow. Okay. You both do not have normal…” He shook his head. “I won’t say it. Not my biz, don’t really care. So, you two gonna make up a song or what? Maybe it’ll be sort of interesting to hear it playing from the computer. I’ll try not to make fun of it.”

            “Liesel could teach you how to play the keyboard, you know,” I suggested wryly.

            “Nope. I’m good. And no amount of ‘daring’ me will work. I had piano lessons when I was younger, and they did not take. You two scrape together a tune. I’ll watch.”

            And he did. For about an hour, me and Liesel worked hard to come up with a sloppy pop song only a kid would find decent. I probably could’ve helped make it better, true, but I didn’t need to yet. All that mattered was this brand-new shared moment, and getting to play some notes again. When our mess played back on the computer, we were all smiles. The passion, and more importantly, the fun was there. Another small step.