1996

Toy King

Anomaly: Parts or the entirety of this event are no longer canonical

           Sunday, June 30^th, 1996. A balmy summer evening in Royal Valley like any other, at least for everyone else in the city. For one kid in particular, this was the start of a dream. A chance to leave childhood on a high note no one in town would forget.

           “Well. We’re here,” the eleven-year-old’s dad said from the driver’s seat after he put the car into park, at the far end of a mostly empty lot… almost like he was trying to subtly discourage his kid from pursuing even the most distant of hopes. “But winning a bunch of toys isn’t going to help you much in the long run, Wes. Sure, you’ll feel on top of the world for a few months, but aren’t you worried you’d make your friends jealous? And what are you going to do with all of it? It’ll collect dust or be donated eventually.”

           “Pfft, no it won’t, Dad,” Wes scoffed. “And I don’t get rid of my stuff. It’s mine, for the museum of my life one day. I’ll put it on display for the guests at my big house.”

           “Big house? You need a good job if you want that. Playing with toys won’t—”

           “Gotta go, before it closes!” Wes said and leapt from the passenger seat, taking off at nearly a sprint towards the city’s beloved Toys ‘R’ Us, where many shopping trips and nights of ogling the expensive toys only cool kids like Zach got were had.

           “Slow down, Wes!” his dad called out after him. “You’ll trip again!”

           “Before it closes!” Wes repeated in a shout. He sighed, “You just don’t get it.”

           Under the colorful glowing letters of the store and by the big blue entrance, Wes hesitated for a moment. Feeling like he had eyes on his back from the darkness, he looked out at the lot, half-expecting to find some unmarked black van spying on him.

           He only saw some cars that must’ve belonged to tired employees, shrugged it off, and headed in. Normally, the sight of new toys and fresh sales would attract his gaze and be like a siren call to his youthful spirit, but tonight, he had a singular mission. Knowing where to go, his legs glided over to the big cardboard submission box for the Super Toy Run. With a shaky hand, he ripped off a form, messily filled in his details—hoping they were legible enough—and dropped in the slip for his chance to participate in a legendary event. As he did so, he noticed the hundreds of forms already inside, and his heart sank.

           “You going for it?” a bored and cynical young employee asked as she passed by. “Each time I see a kid sign up, I think how they must feel like a main character. I tried to get in once. 1985. Learned a harsh lesson when my name wasn’t called. You will, too.”

           No, Wes thought up some bravado to stave off the hopelessness. I will win!

           Something strange then happened as he was heading out to get back in his dad’s car: he was afflicted by a brief, but very strong headache. It was a little scary, and even momentarily debilitating, stopping him in his tracks next to the crappy capsule machines by the exit. It passed quickly, leaving no aftereffects behind. When he felt okay again, he looked around at the nearby employee; the only guy at the one open checkout lane. He’d been busy looking at a gaming magazine, sparing Wes any embarrassment.

           “How’d it go?” his dad asked a minute later as Wes buckled in.

           “Dad. All I did was put some paper in a box,” Wes replied, rubbing his forehead.

           “Oh. Then did you put the right phone number down? You okay, bud?”

           Wes grumbled and sat back in the seat. “I know both of my phone numbers. And I wrote in your house’s because Mom’s line goes down sometimes. You better answer it and tell them heck yeah I want to do the Toy Run if they call and I’m not there! Anyway, I’m fine. Can we go? I, uh… I still have to do those chores you asked about.”

           “Wes…” Dad muttered and got the engine going. “You procrastinate too much.”

           The long days of summer vacation and time spent with friends went by, and the thoughts of Nickelodeon’s toy-extravaganza slipped to the back of Wes’ mind. Middle school and concerns about student life at Cookton had become a growing stressor by late July. The changes felt like a threat that would upend everything Wes knew about his existence and the relationship with his friends. Will they abandon me? was a constant but unrealistic worry for Wes, and now that his teenage mentor Vanni was adjusting to life in Los Angeles and nowhere near Desert Tree, he didn’t know who to confide in.

           Two weekends after his submission, he was at his dad’s again, wasting the day away from the large living room couch and lazily watching an episode of Rocko’s Modern Life he’d seen a dozen times on the big screen television. After it ended and the familiar credits rolled, Jared muted the TV as the block’s host, the talking popsicle stick called Stick Stickly, spouted some drivel to the viewers concerning nothing meaningful.

           “Stupid, annoying stick,” Jared muttered.

           “I kind of like him,” Colin said from the middle. “He’s a special summer thing.”

           Wes, very slowly eating and sucking on a strawberry Fruit by the Foot on the other side of the couch, yawned and replied, “Anyone want… to do… anything else?”

           Wes’ half-sister and full-time resident of the house then walked into the room, wearing her oversized green outer security shirt again. “If you guys are so bored, we could go to the park… I don’t like going alone. Maybe just hang out on the playground…”

           “The park?” Wes scratched at his face. “Like… the one with the trees, that you walk to? I dunno… Can’t remember the last time I went there. Eh. Too sunny.”

           “Wes!” Colin whispered sharply. “Don’t you think she could use a little attention? Remember, she doesn’t exactly have… many friends right now.”

           As Wes began to give this massive proposal some serious consideration, the phone rang. He let his dad get it like usual, not expecting anything of it.

           “Wes! It’s for you!” the answering service shouted from his nearby home office.

           “Probably just Sadie,” Wes said with a shrug and went over to the living room phone. “I bet she wants to go back to the mall to shop more ‘summer fashion.’ Ugh…”

           “Or… maybe she could go to the park with us,” Colin suggested.

           “Yo, what’s up?” Wes casually answered the call on the wireless.

           “Hi, is this Wes Colton of Royal Valley, age eleven?” asked a peppy guy.

           “Uh, the one and only,” Wes replied with a scoffing eye roll.

           “Awesome! So, I wanted to be the first to congratulate you! You won the grand prize in the Nickelodeon Super Toy Run, and that means you get to come down to Los Angeles and grab as many things as you can from a Toys ‘R’ Us store before the clock runs out! And it’ll go on TV! I bet you’re really excited. What an amazing opportunity!”

           “W-what?” Wes froze up. “Is… i-is this a joke? I… I actually won?”

           “That’s right, Mr. Colton! Now, we just need to get some details from a parent or guardian, and I’m sure you’re about to ‘freak out,’ as the kids say, so why don’t you go ahead and hand the phone back to your dad, okay?”

           “Oh. Uh, yeah. Sure,” Wes said, stone-faced. “One second.”

           “Wes, what’s up, dude?” Jared asked him as he became solipsistic and walked off.

           “Tell you in a minute… um, What’s Your Face… Gotta… give phone… Dad.”

           Unaware that his friends were giving him confused glares, Wes floated into the next room over, where his dad was angrily trying to get the fax machine to work.

           “For you,” Wes said blankly and handed over the phone. “Talk to. Guy.”

           “Yes, hello?” his dad spoke into the receiver, still frustrated. “Who is this?”

           Wes returned to the living room, looking like a zombie, as his dad tried to figure out what someone he confused for a “toys salesperson” was trying to sell his son.

           “Wes, what the heck is up with you, man?” Jared wondered.

           “I… I won… Toy Run,” he muttered as a delayed fuse began to pop off. “I get to… grab all the toys and games I want. Gonna be famous. Gonna… be on TV.”

           “You what?!” Colin burst. “Wes! Seriously? You freaking won?!”

           “Y-yeah. Yeah!” Wes shouted as his insides finally exploded. He let out a scream that startled Lucy and ran around the room like a little kid. “I won! I won, I won, I won! Oh my God! Oh, man. Oh man, oh man, oh man…” He stopped by a window on his second pass around the room, nearly hyperventilating. “I… I have to tell everyone! Ha… hahaha! Now who’s the coolest, Zach and Charlie? I’m the winner! You can’t beat that!”

           He turned to his friends and sister, who were now staring at him and unsure how to react—until Jared eked out, “Um, wow. Congrats, dude… That’s… really cool.”

           Even with it being Wes, and in a moment like this, he knew he had to show some humility if he wanted to keep his friends, so he shifted tone and replied, “Don’t worry, guys! I’ll be representing all of Royal Valley’s kids out there, and I’ll be sure to grab stuff for everyone! Well, two things. At least one thing. And that goes for you, too, Luce!” He rubbed his chin. “Now, what do Sadie, Celly, and Ash like? Any of ’em still into Barbie? I mean, if I grab some really stealthy-like, or mix them with a big batch of other junk I’m putting in the cart, maybe no one watching will notice. Tch, wait, I’d still be in the girls’ aisle… Anyway, I’ll figure it out. Should I grab what I see, or try to memorize requests?”

           “Who are you going with?” Lucy questioned plainly, like she hadn’t been affected by the amazingness of the news at all. “Because if Dad brings you, I’ll have to be here alone with… Becky… And he’d tell you the whole way how toys are a waste of money or whatever. Buuut, he has the bigger car. Your mom’s might not fit it all.”

           “Good point. I’ll have to think about that. But first, we need to call an emergency meeting at the Circle K! Just don’t let this leak until I make the announcement!”

           “Uh-huh…” Jared said coolly. “Awesome, Wes. You’re the best. Like always.”

           As Wes pondered if Jared was mad or jealous for some reason, Dad came back in with the phone. “Here, Wes. I guess this is a big deal, huh? Well. I have to get to work.”

           Wes grabbed it, dialed a number, and said after a tick, “Hey, Mom! Guess what!”

           The rest of the group had been assembled within twenty minutes, and everyone showed up on their bikes down at the Circle K next to the highway. Wes was impatient about wanting to break the big story, but of course, all the others naturally headed inside first to get their cold or frozen drinks. He was in no mood for a sugary beverage that would only make him more jittery, so he waited outside the convenience store for all his friends to come back and form a circle. All the while, he had become a little wary of a vaguely familiar kid his age sitting out front, wearing an adult-sized tie and sunglasses.

           “Finally!” Wes grumbled when Zach emerged last with his large drink.

           “What kind of meeting is this, Wes?” Arthur questioned and sipped at his soda. “It’s weird seeing you without a snack in hand. Is… is it serious?”

           “Oh my God, Wes…” Celeste murmured somberly. “Did Tiger die?”

           “W-what? Celly, Tiger’s fine. He’s only fifteen, you know? Anyway, uh…” He eyed the lonesome lad again, who made him a little uncomfortable. “Actually, could we move to the other side of the building, by the pay phones? That guy’s a little, um…”

           Celeste glanced at him, then told Wes, “Dude, that’s just Kyle. He’s cool. Like, really. Ran The Shade at Miller. He was at summer camp—don’t you remember him?”

           “Er, sure, I think. But I don’t need him overhearing this. C’mon, over here.”

           “Being a little weird today, Wes,” Arthur’s twin sister Ash muttered.

           Once they had all shifted to a hangout spot by a different wall, Wes took a deep breath and wondered how best to put it. He thought it was a bit strange how Colin and Jared were seemingly having no problem keeping the secret. In fact, they barely looked excited anymore. I bet they’re still in shock, he told himself. Yeah… Still processing.

           Close to bursting with pent-up energy again, Wes cleared his throat and tried a few assertive-cool postures against a pay phone before making the announcement. That only made his friends look at him even more awkwardly, though, so he instead settled on more of a humble pose. And then he loosened up and just became himself again.

           “Sooo… I, uh… You know… I kind of got into the Toy Run,” he revealed.

           He got blank stares, and Sadie soon asked, “That a marathon or something?”

           “Oh! Where you donate toys to kids and run a few miles, or…?” Arthur added.

           Wes put a hand up to his face and sighed. “Guys, no. The Nickelodeon Super Toy Run. The one on TV once a year? That I told you I’d be entering earlier this summer?”

           “You mean… That thing where the kid runs around the Toys ‘R’ Us and shoves toys in the cart?” Celeste replied. “That Super Toy Run? Like… the real thing?”

           “Yes, Celly. The real thing,” Wes said matter-of-factly.

           Everyone looked at one another, and let out a few half-laughs or snorts.

           “Wes. Come on. There’s no way,” Sadie scoffed. “I heard a dozen other kids talking about entering at our school alone. And you’re saying… you got in?”

           “Guys, it’s true,” Colin confirmed. “Me and Jared were there when he got the call. I’ve never seen him so excited. He ran around the room real crazy-like.”

           “Really? Then… wow, Wes,” Arthur said, his eyes getting wider as the reality of it began to hit the gang. “That’s seriously nuts! So, like, when does it happen and where?”

           Wes beamed. “Two weeks from now, in LA. They even put us in a hotel for a night and everything! And they said that a little later, they’ll show the run on TV, and, at that point… maybe everyone in the city will see me grabbing all the toys I can!”

           “I guess you’ll be famous, dude,” Zach replied. “I mean, hey, if my dad can win the lottery, maybe it was just your turn to find fame and fortune. Or something. What are you gonna do if, like, everyone comes up to you, asking for handouts?”

           “Why would I give toys out to a bunch of randos? But I’ll definitely get you guys each something! Just write it down, and I’ll do my best to get the stuff you want.”

           “That’s nice of you,” Ash said—though, like the others, she just didn’t seem as thrilled as what Wes had imagined up. “But what do you want, that you don’t have?”

           “Um. Huh. You know, I haven’t given it much thought yet.”

           “Hey, Wes…” Sadie replied quietly. “It sounds like that happens on the weekend you were going to go on that camping trip with my family. That’s too bad.”

           “It does? Geez… I’m sorry, Sadie. Maybe we could go next year? If your parents want—” he was abruptly interrupted by another headache, which he reacted strongly to.

           “Whoa, you okay, Wes?” Celeste asked in concern. “Brain freeze?”

           “He’s not drinking anything, Celly,” Ash reminded her. “Maybe too excited?”

           “Y-yeah… That’s all it is,” Wes assured, wincing as it faded again. “Hey, look… I hope you all aren’t, you know, jealous or something. It’s just good luck, that’s all.”

           The others looked at one another, to try and pick up if anyone was jealous, and it was Jared that answered, “Nah. It’s cool. Like you said, you’ll be representing us.”

           “Come on, Wes, we should get going,” his mom said in the kitchen they shared, on a Friday after a very long and boring two summer weeks had gone by.

           As dawn’s light began to peek through the window and he sat at the breakfast table lethargically eating a waffle, he murmured back, “Did we have to get up so early? I’m not… even up for school this time of day. And it’s still summer.”

           “Hey, buddy, you were the one who didn’t want to take the flight they offered. We’d be in the air for an hour and then touch down in LA, and you could’ve slept in. If you’re making me drive all the way down there, then we’re seeing some sights, too.”

           “Had to drive, Mom…” He yawned. “They would’a needed to ship my winnings otherwise, and I’m sure it wouldn’t all be here before school started.”

           “I see. My big winner wants to show off his prizes right away.” His mom sighed wistfully as she tied her shoes. “Back when I was your age, we also had shopping spree contests like this one. They weren’t usually televised, but I entered a few myself.”

           “They should just let every kid do the Toy Run once in their life. Then we’d all have something to look forward to and be happy the rest of our lives with the memory.”

           She laughed. “Oh, to be young. Don’t you think that would bankrupt them?”

           “No way! Toys ‘R’ Us isn’t going anywhere. Look how much stuff they sell!”

           As they left the house, Wes gave the last bit of his waffle to his dog Tiger, who was sluggish and could barely wag his tail anymore, and told him to be good and not bite the pet sitter this time. The humans then got into their car with mostly-empty suitcases.

           Wes, in the front seat, put his favorite pillow against the door and was already starting to nod off before his Mom hit the big road of Kettle, just outside Desert Tree. The soft, dulcet tones of NPR voices soon lulled him into a light slumber. It wasn’t a surprise, considering he had barely slept the night before. Still, while car rides could lead to naps, they were restless and he caught waking glances from his window as they left Royal Valley—which was not a common occurrence; vacations were infrequent.

           “Hey, Wessy, don’t you think it’s time to wake up? It’s eleven,” his mom said sometime later. “Come on, rise and shine. We’ll need to stop for lunch soon.”

           He stirred, rubbed his eyes, munched on some healthy road trip snacks she had chosen, and then got out from his backpack the binder that held several catalogs for the store he’d soon be raiding, along with a red pen he used to circle targeted-toys.

           “You, ah, have a lot of selections there,” Mom said as she gave it a glimpse, since there wasn’t much to see outside but vast stretches of valley and farmland. “Hm. I don’t think I’ve seen you show much interest in most of those brands. Do you play with them at your friends’ houses? You know, you don’t have to grab things just because you can.”

           Wes gave her a shrug as he circled a Batmobile toy he’d never play with. “I’m just trying to memorize anything I, or… any of the others might like. Training my eyes.”

           “Oh. Okay,” she replied passive-dismissively. She noticed another highway sign and added, “You getting hungry? We should get some food outside Bakersfield before the final stretch to LA. Who knows what the traffic will be like when we get to the city.”

           “Aw, Mom, Bakersfield, really? That place smells bad.”

           She laughed. “How do you know what it smells like? Have you been there?”

           “Er, yeah. Me, Luce, and Dad stopped there when he took us to Disneyland when I was four. You know… neither one of you takes me on many trips. I’ve only been on a plane a few times. Once to Seattle. And that time to Denver, to see my uncle.”

           “You have quite the memory, don’t you, Wes? I’d love to take you more places, really, but it’s expensive, you know? Maybe the two of us could at least do more road trips before you get too old for them. There’s a lot to see in just California. Oh, speaking of San Francisco, would you put this CD in the player for me?” she tapped at a case.

           Wes took it out of the little holder in the center console where it was crammed in with nine others, and groaned. “More folk music? This stuff isn’t very… exciting.”

           “It’s the music of the common people and their stories. Not really fitting with what you’re about to do, but I’d prefer to have a son who at least respects the genre.”

           With nothing better to listen to, Wes put in the compilation album and fell back in his seat, bored again as it began to play. Then he remembered he had his Game Boy.

           Wrapping up some Donkey Kong Land as his Mom pulled off the highway and into a Denny’s on the outskirts of the large city known for its gas, oil, and refining, he turned it off upon losing another life after she pulled into a parking spot. Denny’s was far from one of his favorite eateries, but it was cheap, and they seldom ever had it back home.

           Stepping out under a cloudless noon sky and harsh sun, mother and son donned shades and smiled at each other. Wes had to admit, they both looked kinda cool.

           “So, Wes, what do your friends think of all this?” Mom asked right after their lunches arrived. “I’m sure the newspaper will run a little article about it soon.”

           He bit into his club sandwich and replied, “We sort of mostly stopped talking about the Toy Run already. I guess there wasn’t much to talk about after the news.”

           “Kids move on fast. Even King Arcade was the ‘hip new thing’ for just a month.”

           “Yeah, I dunno. It’ll probably feel a lot more real when I actually come home with the haul, but a few days ago, Jared was all like…” he imitated Jared’s voice, “it’s still cool, dude, but maybe if we were nine we’d actually be flipping out about it.’ I don’t think they really care that much. Or they could be thinking more about middle school.”

           “Well, bud, whatever happens, you’ll always have this to look back on.”

           “Right…” Wes sighed. “Leaving childhood ‘with a bang,’ Zach called it.”

           He was suddenly hit by another powerful headache, bad enough to make him drop a fry into the cup of ketchup he didn’t like with them and wouldn’t be using. This time, as it cleared up as quickly as it arrived, he heard a faint whisper say, “Dad…”

           “You okay?” his mom asked, the voice in his head eerie and a little petrifying.

           “Sure…” he murmured. “It’s nothing. I sometimes remember all over again that I’m doing the Toy Run, and get so excited my head hurts… Yeeeah…”

           A couple hours after lunch, Wes’ mom unlocked the door to their third-floor hotel room, and he ran right in to reflexively check the TV channels as he usually did. Then he realized that the view was actually pretty interesting, so he muted the set and went over to check it out with her as she surveyed the sprawling cityscape outside.

           “I thought maybe they’d put us in something a little more… higher-end, but Holiday Inn is good enough, I suppose. You remember any of the city, Wes?”

           He shook his head as his eyes absorbed the skyscrapers. “We stayed in the resort, so it’s my first time actually in LA. Seen it in a lot of movies, though… Guess I’ll have to tell the gang that Independence Day wasn’t a documentary, since it’s still here.”

           His mom chuckled and playfully yanked the cap off his head to check the sweat underneath it. “Yeah, my car’s AC just can’t keep up with the desert heat, huh? Go take a shower, and then we can see what’s nearby. We have to show up early tomorrow.”

           “I wanted to see more of the city…” Wes mumbled. “Gotta come back sometime.”

           Wes’ visit to Los Angeles was, of course, just the cherry on top at the end of the day; the main event was what he expected to remember most, if not the only thing in the coming years. Even so, his mom, a master planner, knew how to sneak in a few other goodies to make the most of the trip, instead of spending all their free time at the hotel.

           When the two of them stepped off of the brand-new roller coaster at the famous Santa Monica Pier for the second time, Wes’ legs were shaking with excitement like they hadn’t since the initial thrill of the phone call, which had waned over the following days.

           “Can we go a third time?” Wes puffed out. “They should make it go around more each ride, since it’s so short! I mean, I get it—there isn’t much room on the pier.”

           “How’s it compare to the Red Demon or the Vortex back home?” Mom asked.

           “Oh, ya know… It’s not as good. But, still exciting since it’s new for me.”

           “I read that it just opened back in May; you’re among the first to ride it. But I think my stomach needs a break. How about the Ferris wheel, or maybe a snack?”

           “Hm… Not that I’m a big fan of them, but those corn dogs look kind of tasty.”

           And as Desert Tree’s new prince asked, he received. He was at least certainly in competition with Zach by now. Taking a break from the long lines, noise, and anything that moved, the two had their food at the end of the pier, and watched the waves and surfers which made up the very long beach that disappeared into haze on the horizon.

           “It’s nice spending time with you, no matter the reason,” his doting mom said as she tore off bits of funnel cake. “I’m glad you have friends, but I feel like the two of us are running out of time to make memories. We did more together when you were little.”

           “Aw, Mom. We make plenty of good memories, even just at the house. And we had fun that day at King Arcade together, didn’t we? I showed you all the best rides.”

           “And beat me at all the arcade games. But I did play in the 70s, I swear.”

           “You weren’t bad at them, really! I just, ya know, game every day.”

           “Right… It’d be nice if you could somehow turn that into a useful skill.” She saw the same look he often gave his dad, so she changed subjects. “Anyway, if you forget to grab your friends what they want, you can always pull from your stash. But, I want you to pick out something just for Lucy. Pause and actually consider what she’d like.”

           “You know I only have five minutes, right?” Wes bit into the last of his battered meat stick. “But, sure. I’ll try. I do feel a little sorry for her right now. Poor Luce…”

           The next morning, the Royal Valleyers stepped out into the hotel’s pickup area, where a shuttle van had just pulled up. The polo shirt-wearing driver hopped out and opened the sliding door for the two with a smile and acted exuberant.

           “And would this be Mr. Colton?” he made sure he wasn’t about to make some other kid’s dreams come true. After a nervous nod from Wes, he added, “Great! What an exciting day! It’s a short drive to the Toys ‘R’ Us, and we’ll bring you back by dinner.”

           “It takes all day just to do a five-minute toy run thing?” Wes meekly replied.

           “Naturally. There’s a lot of preparation and setting up to do for any TV event.”

           “I kind of keep forgetting how many people are going to see me…” Wes gulped as they got into the vehicle. “It’s not live, so… I hope they make me look confident.”

           “Wes, just try to have fun,” Mom reminded. “Pretend I took you to the store like usual, gave you my credit card, let you run wild… and can’t keep up with you.”

           He gave her a nervous smile. “Okay. That’s a good tip, Mom.”

           Wes barely getting a chance to see any of the city, the van pulled into the lot for a Toys “R” Us that was quite a bit bigger than what he was used to. Though it wouldn’t be open yet regardless, it was quite apparent that it’d be closed for normal business today, as the parking area was barricaded and several tents were already up.

           “Are those for, um… the TV people?” Wes asked.

           “Spectators,” the driver answered. “The store and Nickelodeon crews will be working inside the building. The people out here will watch the event live, but they’ll also bring a few into the store as well to cheer you on and make a big show of it.”

           “Oh. I guess I remember that from watching the past runs.”

           “That’s TV for you, Wes,” his mom explained. “Just seeing you run around in an otherwise empty store wouldn’t be thrilling or feel ‘big’ enough.”

           “Now that I’m thinking about it, it is so weird that people want to come here just to watch me grab a bunch of toys. What do they get out of it?”

           “A special occasion is always an excuse. Maybe they just want to be on TV, too.”

           The van parked near the entrance, and Wes was let in by a small staff of twenty-somethings; a team that would no doubt grow as the day wore on. After passing a statue of Geoffrey the giraffe, Wes met the slightly older lady in charge, who wore a fake smile.

           “Hi, Wesley,” she said, her grip on her clipboard strong. “I’m Hailey. Your coach.”

           “I never thought I’d need a coach for this,” Wes grumbled over lunch with his mom, after a few hours of intense practice runs. The meal, lukewarm chicken nuggets and fries from a nearby Burger King, was one he barely tasted given his nerves. “I was born to empty shelves at Toys ‘R’ Us. I didn’t expect to have to work this hard for it.”

           “Again, honey. It’s the biz,” she replied from the other side of the foldout table. “Everything is scripted in some way, all for entertainment.” She turned around to check on the gathering crowd out in the parking lot; mostly other kids who wanted even just a taste of what it was like to be on the pedestal. “Getting busy out there, huh?”

           “Treating me like some instant celebrity…” Wes sighed. He looked over at his coach, munching a burger with one hand and checking a binder of something with the other. “I don’t think Hailey likes me very much. She reminds me of Bailey, from camp, but at least he was bossy in a nice way. And why do they have freakishly similar names?”

           Hailey came over to ask, “Done yet, Wesley? We still have some training to do.”

           He finished off the rest of his soda and reluctantly answered, “Yeah, I guess. But could the crew maybe call me Wes? No one calls me Wesley. It’s just not… me.”

           Hailey let out an annoyed utterance, “Fine. I suppose that will come in better for broadcast, anyway. Hey,” she snapped her fingers for her staff, “get Mom some more of those spare Nickelodeon magazines. Looks like she’s gone through this batch.”

           “O-oh, no, that’s okay,” she groaned. “I did bring a book to read, so—”

           “This way, Wes,” Hailey spoke over her and led him to the bathrooms. She again snapped, and another staff guy who was lower on the totem brought over a pair of shorts, the famous yellow Super Toy Run shirt, and the Nickelodeon cap in bright orange. “From now on, we’ll be doing a ‘dress rehearsal.’ We want you to get used to wearing what you will be during the run. We have backups, but try not to mess them up.”

           As Wes held his change of clothes, he timidly theorized, “Are you just trying to wear me out so I’ll be too tired to grab a whole lot of toys and the store saves money?”

           Hailey chortled. “Aren’t you precocious? Look, I don’t work for the store. My job is to make good TV. You ever watch Double Dare, or Hidden Temple, and feel bad for the kids that stumble around like they have no idea what they’re doing? I don’t want that for you. This is a big deal for the network; your five minutes on the floor need to look like second nature. So, get dressed, and we’ll make the best of our time ’til Mike gets here.”

           Changing into a TV-ready outfit did bring back some excitement for Wes, and he put in a bit more effort for his first post-lunch trial run. That didn’t change the fact that Hailey definitely took some of the fun out of the day and made it all feel… designed.

           “Concentrate!” she repeated and kept up with his pushed cart. “Know what you want before you arrive, have a plan of attack. Grabbing wastes time; get your hand behind the box and push it into the cart!” She judged him as he stopped to shove in a few Barbie dolls. “Why’d you come to a full stop? Getting back up to speed also takes time. Bring it down to a steady walk, keep moving. If you can’t, skip aisles you have little interest in, or you won’t make it to the Legos, video games, and Micro Machines you want so bad.”

           “I can’t skip the girl stuff. I have a sister. And three friends who are, uh… girls.”

           “Well, aren’t you a charmer? Come on, to the end of the aisle!” She hustled him along, and watched as he shoved away a full cart and grabbed the empty one waiting for him. “Now turn in one smooth motion, and… Wes! Wrong way—you were already in that aisle! Do you want a new bike or not? You’ll run out of time to grab a voucher.”

           Wes corrected his mistake and changed direction, now finding himself once more surrounded by colorful stuffed animals. He wanted to throw one or two of them into his cart for toy variety, but remained indecisive as to which ones, or who they might go to. He took every chance he had to browse during a practice run, and this time he booked it at full speed to get to the end of the aisle and look at the plush penguins in that area.

           And ended up stumbling on his own feet, losing grip of the cart at the same time.

           “Tch,” Hailey scoffed and crouched by him as he got up, unhurt. “Tripping is the last thing the audience wants to see. Well, the portion rooting for you, I guess. Do you need to wear a helmet and kneepads? We have those. Usually just for the little kids.”

           “Augh, no…” Wes grumbled and flipped over to sit on the tile for a moment. “I won’t screw up the run, Coach. You’re just putting a lot of pressure on me, is all.”

           “Aw, do you think I’m being mean? You’ll be taking home thousands of dollars’ worth of toys, so what do you have to complain about? Now, back on your feet.”

           Wes muttered under his breath, stood, and grabbed the cart handle. “By the way, Coach, what’s it like working for Nickelodeon? Do you have a favorite Nicktoon?”

           “It keeps me busy. And I don’t watch that stuff. Not interested, don’t have time.”

           As he got back to dashing, Wes asked himself, “Were some people actually ever kids?”

           As the main event drew near, things became a blur for Wes. His practice runs finally ended, and the atmosphere in the store shifted as the secondary team came in, who were dressed and made up for TV. More barricades were added to create the “race track” Wes would be running, cameras were positioned, and the very fit cameraman that would be chasing him around the store was doing equipment tests with his crew. Wes had lost track of his mom some time ago and was having dizzy spells that almost felt like out of body experiences. Hailey, as commanding as she was, really became Wes’ guiding voice; each time he heard one of her orders, it at least made him feel grounded again.

           “Wes, we’re two minutes to showtime,” she told him at some indiscernible point. “You look nervous. Here,” she handed him a Gatorade, “and try to have fun out there.”

           “Fun…” Wes murmured and did some chugging. He looked over at the run’s emcee, Mike O’Malley, who was schmoozing with other organizers. “That guy hosts the Guts show on Nick, right? Where kids run around doing athletic stuff?”

           “Hm? Um, yeah. He’s a pretty chill guy. Maybe you should go over and say hi.”

           “I’m fine…” Wes lied. “Don’t want to lose my train of toys. I-I mean thought.”

           One of Hailey’s co-workers signaled to her, and she told Wes, “Looks like we’re starting a little early. Come on. Time for the run, and then the rest of your life.”

           “W-what…?” Wes said and followed her to a spot with some big cameras, near the lucky onlookers behind the rope fencing. “That’s kind of a heavy thing to say.”

           “Mm-hm. Tell me if it wasn’t true in ten years. Do your best out there, Wes.”

           With that, he was all but shoved onto the carpet where a backdrop for the Toy Run was set up. Nearly blinded by the lights on him and dazzled by the clapping and noises of the crowd, few of Mr. O’Malley’s audience-hyping words reached his ears.

           He suddenly realized a microphone was by his face, and exclaimed, “What?”

           “Introduce yourself!” Mike said from somewhere above him, Wes feeling small and overwhelmed by the attention. “Who’s our lucky winner, and where is he from?”

           “Oh. Um… I’m Wes Colton, from Royal Valley, California.”

           “Well, Wes, what are you going to do today? What brings you to Toys ‘R’ Us?”

           Wes spotted his coach on his side of the barrier, next to the crowds, standing by his mom. As if they had choreographed it, they both gave him a reassuring thumbs-up.

           Remembering his line, Wes shot an arm up and said, “I’m gonna get some toys!”

           “That’s the spirit. All right, Wes, let’s head on over this way,” Mike said and led him to a long blue carpet that began with his first cart and ended at a ribbon. “The rules are simple,” he continued, for both the cameras and the participant. “As soon as that tape breaks, your five minutes begin. Big toys, like bicycles and Power Wheels, have a ‘ticket slip’ you’ll grab instead. Make it to the finish line with at least a second left on the clock, and you’re getting a bonus gift certificate for future visits. Now, are you ready!?”

           “Uh-huh…” Wes said and was walked over to the cart, still in a daze.

           With sweaty palms, he gripped the handle, and a countdown began. The crowds got hyped up further, and a familiar store briefly blurred into a surrealist painting of odd shapes and color. Until, finally, he was able to steel his nerves. Determined to not do the run in a stupor, and wanting to remember every second, he reminded himself of where he was and the sheer amazingness he was about to pull off on TV. He got tunnel vision around the aisle ahead, but it was the good, helpful kind; the crowds, the cameras, and even the guy holding one in front of him all stopped existing. He was just a kid with free rein in the world’s best toy store. This was his moment. His time to go supernova.

           Once Mike gave him the signal, Wes ran towards the starting ribbon at full speed, went through it without flinching or worrying about the clock, and kept right on going with destinations and toys in mind. As he grabbed the first one in the first aisle, a board game he’d probably never play, he reminded himself of other previous training.

           I ran around the blocks back home, dodging water gun fire, he thought to himself and got to the end of the aisle, shoveling in a few other non-electronic games on the way. And we could’ve won the Laser Chase. I’ve spent countless hours in arcades and gaming at home, honing my reflexes and quick-thinking. I can do this! I’m a natural! Not only that—I can win the Toy Run!

           “Winning” the run may have been a vague notion, but in his mind, that meant getting the most toys of any participant, past or future. A dream on top of a dream.

           He replayed every part of Hailey’s coaching in his head as he scoured the shelves for toys that even remotely caught his eye. His footwork and aisle-turns were graceful, nearly perfect. He never slipped as he pushed one full cart away and grabbed an empty replacement. The cameraman, who seemed to be in front, behind, and at his side all at once, captured every push of a prize into his rolling metal basket, or each grab when that push wasn’t practical. He lost track of what he was collecting, but it no longer mattered.

           Acting more on instincts and muscle memory, Wes began tearing down corridors of toys and putting into his carts anything that interested him in the slightest. Or that he remembered from a commercial. Or that Park had hocked on the playground when Wes had no cash to buy whatever he was selling. Or that had pretty packaging. Truth be told, he mostly just shoved in anything that he didn’t not like, which was most of the store.

           He skipped through the sports and activities aisle without even looking at any of that stuff—except for a random soccer ball. This bought him valuable seconds he could use towards the end of the store. When the dude with the camera flashed a peace sign, or rather signaled that he had two minutes left, Wes began to worry he’d miss the Legos, Micro Machines, and most importantly, the video games. So, he hurriedly pushed in some Barbie boxes, and snagged a big sad-looking teddy bear for Lucy on the end cap.

           When he arrived at the Legos, he focused on the big, expensive sets that only the cool kids ever got, quickly filling up that cart. He grabbed an empty one at the end of the aisle and had to move on. Hot Wheels and Matchbox cars made up his latest batch, as did Star Wars, military, and sport car Micro Machines, along with a few play sets.

           He entered the electronic gaming section with a minute left, and it was here that he slowed down just a little, his eyes needing a moment to focus on the Nintendo titles he did not possess, which wasn’t that many. He stacked Game Boy and Super Nintendo games between his arms, waddled back to his cart, and swiftly dumped them in, barely avoiding a disastrous spill that would’ve littered them across the tile. Then, with seconds on the clock, he yanked a tag for a shiny blue bicycle he’d looked at each practice run.

           The crowd at the finish line cheering loudly, he and his final stuffed cart broke through the ribbon with two seconds to spare, earning him his bonus. As he did so, with his heart racing, he swore he heard a familiar voice among the spectators say, “Wes?”

           Already overwhelmed by congratulatory remarks, he came to a stop and looked around, murmuring in exhaustion, “Ash?” Even though her being there was impossible.

           “There you have it!” Mike exclaimed and kept the onlookers pumped. “What a collection! Now, Wes, tell me, was there anything you missed? Do you have any regrets?”

           Already having a planned response in the tank, Wes replied listlessly, “Um. I wish this was a month later so the Nintendo 64 was out. The games I got feel old already.”

           Mike laughed. “Well, I’m sure you and a lot of other kids will just love that.”

           With the pure elation of the last five minutes already fading, Wes was brought over to a little winner’s stage for a photo-op, where some of his prizes from earlier in the run had already been set up. His mom was waiting for him there, and she pulled up his arms into a victory pose as more video and flash-filled photographs were taken.

           “Wes, we’ll have an exact tally later, but we estimate right now that you snagged ten thousand dollars’ worth of toys and games! How about that?” Over more applause, he wrapped it up, “From Los Angeles, I’m Mike O’Malley. If you’d like this to be you next year, keep a lookout for those submission boxes! You too, can make dreams come true.”

           Within seconds, the lights and cameras all shut off, Mike walked away to go to his next gig or just unwind, and the crew began the first stages of returning the store to normal. Wes and his mom looked at each other, sort of at a loss for what just happened. The last few minutes were a whirlwind, and abruptly, they were back in the real world.

           “It’s… over?” Wes murmured as the crowds both in and out began to break up.

           “Wes, you did great! I wish you got that excited for grocery shopping,” Mom said.

           Hailey, marking more things off on her clipboard, came over and replied, “Yep, that’s it. Once the audience is gone, we’ll bring you back to the hotel, and your winnings will arrive shortly thereafter. Whatever doesn’t fit in your car, we’ll ship.” She looked at Wes’ now placid face. “Strange feeling as it wears off, isn’t it? If it makes any difference, that was one of the better performances I’ve seen. Guess I’m getting better at coaching.”

           Then Hailey left, as well. They never met again.

           The car pulled up to Wes’ dad’s house at three the next day. His mom parked in the driveway, handed Wes the keys, and told him, “Well, bud, you know your dad and I don’t get along, so I think I’ll take a nice, long walk to clear my head and stretch. I’m sure he’ll help you bring… all of it in.” She turned around to check the back seats and cargo area, which was now just the same space and completely crammed with toys. “It’s crazy we managed to fit all of it, even the bike. And Wes? Driving that long without being able to see through your rearview is a bad idea. You’re only allowed to do it after toy runs.”

           They exited the car, and she left down the block in a jog, even though she never jogged. Wes stared at the trove through the windows, still in a daze from yesterday and not sure where to start. Lucy then came out, and her big gawking eyes joined his own.

           “Wow, Wes. Wow…” Colin said during the get-together, minus Sadie. “That’s a huge pile. It’s like you’re on a throne with a treasure hoard,” he added, as Wes sat knees-up on a living room armchair while surrounded by his disorganized hill of bright colors.

           “Yeah, I know,” Wes sighed. “I can’t fit all this stuff in my room at my mom’s, so I guess it’ll be here for a while. Of course, Dad looked at it like it was disgusting or whatever. I’m just trying to get my mind straight. The run keeps replaying in my head.”

           Jared, on the floor and digging through the toys, remarked, “Dude. What all did you get? I mean… Transformers? GI Joes? Half this stuff, you’ve never collected before. And, not that I really care that much, but so far, I don’t see anything on our request list.”

           “I don’t know, J, I grabbed anything that looked ‘cool!’ Agh. Sorry, guys. I was under a lot of pressure all day, and the actual thing went by so quick. I blanked.”

           “It’s cool, Wes. I mean, you didn’t have to get us anything. Well, except for Lucy, obviously,” Ash replied and looked over at her, chilling on the couch and using her new giant teddy bear as a pillow. She then held up two Barbies and added, “But why did you get so many Barbies? Me, Celly, and Sadie didn’t ask for a single one, you know.”

           “Ugh!” Wes covered his face in shame. “I panicked, okay? Look, take them, give them away, sell them… Whatever. I did mean to get Celeste a soccer ball, though.”

           “I asked for a basketball, but it’s fine,” Celeste said, the ball tucked under her arm.

           Wes groaned yet again. “It’s like, sure, now I remember what you all wanted. You can take your pick from most of this stuff, guys. I mean, run it by me first, but I’m sure you’ll all find something you didn’t realize you wanted. If anything screams Sadie, though, leave it and let me know. I couldn’t even get her the Game Boy Pocket she asked for…”

           “I’m sure she’ll forgive you. If you give her a few games instead,” Arthur said cheekily. “She should be back from the Tahoe trip in a couple days. Wait until she sees this haul.” He looked over at Zach, who had a line of toys going. “Z, what ya thinking?”

           “Hm?” He snapped out of a trance. “Oh, I still don’t need anything. I’m more into trying to figure out just where Wes’ mind was. Studying his ‘picks-pattern,’ I guess.”

           “Yeah, good luck with that,” Colin said with a laugh. He put down the games he was looking at, and easily shifted subjects. “Sooo… Middle school starts in a week.”

           Before they could get into an infinitely more boring topic, Wes’ dad came in with a huff. “Wes, I told you to start moving all… this to your room. We have guests tonight!”

           The dream and its afterglow had already begun to fade by the time Wes’ alarm clock went off, and then it felt like a door shut on it completely with the final bell that sounded throughout the packed main hallway of Cookton. Like his mentor Vanni had warned him, middle school felt like a very different beast from the outset. There were lockers and combinations, seemingly random classroom assignments that broke up the friend group, and rooms he’d have to find and get to without reliable help.

           Odder still for Wes: his ‘instant celebrity’ status unexpectedly didn’t follow him home, and that became quite apparent when his homeroom teacher failed to say a word about one of the students having just been seen on TV, winning a big event. He was much more into the whole orientation thing, which nearly put Wes to sleep.

           “Guys, I… I don’t get it,” he admitted over lunch—the first chance all day that the eight of them could get together again. “It’s not what I pictured at all.”

           “How’d you see it in your head, dude?” Zach said from across the table, with a slice of pizza on a paper plate. “I mean, I didn’t imagine being able to buy delivery pizza from a food stall outside the cafeteria! Oh, man… I… I might actually get sick of pizza.”

           Jared dryly scoffed, “He probably saw something like, he shows up this morning and one kid points and shouts ‘there he is!’ And then all the others turn and gasp, and then clap or something. Am I hitting close to the mark here, Wes, or…?”

           Wes groaned. “Nothing quite like that, but… Maybe a few of them coming up to ask questions, or tell me that it was ‘cool’ or whatever. It was on TV just last night.”

           “Buddy, think about it,” Colin replied. “Run the numbers. Maybe a third, at the very most, of Desert Tree Elementary knew you by name. Now we’re at Cookton, and around sixty-percent of the students here went to Sherman Miller. Now factor in how many of them still watch Nick, or saw the segment, or even know what the Toy Run is. Which lasted five minutes. And didn’t have many close-ups of you.”

           “Heck, everyone knew Zach at DTE; he was the coolest of us all,” Arthur added. “And he still pretty much has to restart from nothing here. From what I’ve heard so far, even the guys that knew him the best are barely talking about him! Not yet, at least.”

           “Wes, you’ll always have what you did,” Sadie spoke up. “But everyone is more focused on their own lives. Besides, you didn’t really want to be worshipped, did you?”

           “I mean… No, I guess not,” Wes mumbled. “By the way. How was Tahoe?”

           “It was so nice! I wish you could’a been there, Wes. You would’ve liked it. I get that you never expected to like Morning Dew and the outdoors that much, and you still missed TV and game stuff, but when we got away from all that for a while, you really…”

           Before she could finish her thought, a couple of prissy boys with expensive haircuts stopped at the table briefly with their lunch trays, sized up Wes, and the taller of the two remarked cynically, “Hey, aren’t you that kid who won all the toys or whatever?”

           Wes perked up, but then the other boy added after a snort, “Yeah. Got ourselves a big winner here. You gonna bring them to school for show and tell? Ha-ha…”

           “Ignore them,” Celeste muttered as they walked off. “They were jerks at Miller.”

           “I do have to admit that I feel too old to actually play with toys anymore,” Ash noted. “But! I still love them for bedroom décor, to make the space my own. So, thanks, Wes. For giving me a couple of Beanie Babies. And the Barbie sports car that looks nice on my shelf. You’ve actually given away a lot more than I thought you would.”

           “I still have too many,” Wes moaned. “A few things I really do enjoy, but most of my winnings have, I dunno, lost their meaning to me. They don’t feel… special.”

           “Aw, that’s too bad, Wesley,” Robby, the resident sci-fi nerd, said and plopped down uninvited at a nearby empty seat. “Maybe I could take some off your hands? For a fair price, I promise.” He looked around and added under his breath, “Park hasn’t gotten to you yet, has he? I know he’d buy stuff in bulk from you, but he doesn’t have a collector’s eye, like I do. It’s a good investment opportunity—as long as you keep the goods sealed, mint, in a box. Can we set up a day where I’d come over and take a look? I watched the Toy Run, of course. It was… neat. But I’m a little critical of your choices, Wes.”

           “Robby, I wasn’t thinking of what you and Park would’ve been interested in when I did it,” Wes grumbled. “And I don’t get toys to sell them. I keep them, or they’re gifts for my closest friends. But it’s fine if you want to look. Just not this weekend; school’s already stressing me out. Here I thought I’d start the year feeling on top of the world.”

           “Too bad you didn’t win last year.” Robby shrugged and bit into an apple. “If you had come into fifth grade as a Toy Run winner, then I bet we’d try to bask in your ‘glory.’ Heck, you probably would’ve gotten The Dump instead of Zach. Maybe in an alternate reality. What a difference doing it right before middle school might’ve made. Ah, well.”

           As Wes scowled, Zach murmured, “I’m not sure Charlie would’ve cared.”

           Near the end of the school day, the literature teacher for Wes’ second to last class brought her students into the library to introduce them to a place they’d be “spending a lot of time,” as she put it. So far, this was Wes’ least favorite class, for one big reason.

           “This sucks,” he commiserated at one of the familiar birchwood tables that looked a lot like those at DTE’s library. “How did none of my friends get in this class?”

           “You got me,” Millie Vanbusen said with a mock evil chortle from the other side of the table. “Don’t worry, I’m not stalking you. I got a few genuine questions.”

           “Yeah. Great,” Wes sneered and squirmed in his seat. “Are you still doing your creepy spy routine, Millie? Don’t you have anyone else you could bother? Weirdo…”

           “Only a little bit of spying. I’m trying to go ‘legit.’ I want to join the school paper when I can, which is run by the eighth graders. So… could I ask about the Toy Run?”

           Wes relaxed very slightly and replied, “Did you see me on TV last night?”

           “Um, no. But I did read the blurb about you in the Herald.” She took out a binder that signified an upgrade from her elementary school composition books. “What made you want to sign up for the spree, and what did you expect the local reaction to be like?”

           “See, this is what I’ve been talking about!” Wes lowered his voice when he saw the teacher glaring at him. “I did it to be remembered, but I think it happened a year too late. I wasn’t asking to be worshipped, but a few kids coming up and saying, like, ‘that was awesome’ to me would’ve been nice. Instead, pretty much no one seems to care.”

           “Uh-huh, got it. Looking for affirmation…” she replied as she scribbled. “What was the most memorable part of the whole thing? Including the trip to LA.”

           “It was mostly just a blur. Sure, I was focused at times, but the whole thing, all together, feels like a daydream… Actually? I think I remember the time I spent with my mom the best. Can I tell you something weird, Millie? Since you’re weird and all?”

           Taking offense, she glowered but agreed by saying, “Fine. Hit me.”

           “They’re not as bad now, but ever since I dropped my form in the box, I’ve been getting headaches that make me feel like I’m… somewhere else for a little bit? It’s hard to explain. I even heard voices, and sensed something was… off. What’s wrong with me?”

           “A lot, but…” Millie leaned in curiously, “can you say what felt off, exactly?”

           Wes thought deeply, moved closer, and whispered, “Like I had lost something.”

           “That is kind of strange. Maybe you did lose something. Just not yet.”

           “Still don’t want to talk about your first day?” Wes’ mom asked late that night, as he lay in his bed and felt oddly paranoid about things he couldn’t pinpoint or describe. When he didn’t reply, she looked at the pile lined up on his covers and against the wall that kept him company, adding, “I think you can still fit a few more of your new toys in here. Well, goodnight, big winner. Tomorrow’s the start of the rest of middle school.”

           She turned off the light and closed the door. Wes stared up at his glowing stars, and feeling that sense of a missing thing or perceived looming loss growing in the dark, he reached out and grabbed the largest stuffed animal on the bed. In that moment, he was like a scared kid again who needed to hug it, sure—but he also wanted to hold on.

           Onto a childhood dream, just a little longer. Even if the cost was unimaginable.

           He was woken up by an incessant knocking on the small bedroom’s door. His eyes groggily fluttered open, and he looked over to see the early morning light coming in through the cabin window—and heard the chirping of birds in the Lake Tahoe trees.

           “Wes!” Sadie nearly shouted at him from the other side of the wood. “Come out and get some breakfast! It’s our last full day out here and we got plenty to pack in!”

           Wes yawned, lazily flattened some of his messy hair, and opened the door to find Sadie still in her warm pajamas; mornings in the forest were surprisingly a little chilly.

           “You look like you got a deep sleep… Come on. Dad finally got the waffle-maker working.” Sadie led the way out to the rental cabin’s little cedar round table, where her parents were already cleaning up their own meals and the kids’ were waiting next to two glasses of apple juice. “He just served them, so they’re still hot,” she assured.

           Wes took a seat and stared at the syrup as he poured it, debating whether or not to tell Sadie about something personal, like the weird and long dream he just had.

           “So, I dreamed that I actually did do the Toy Run,” he revealed casually. “It was really detailed. But if you want to go all shrink about it, it also made me feel… regret?”

           “Then you literally did imagine you won, huh? Sounds like a cool dream. I’m not going to psychoanalyze it, Wes, but, if I had to guess…” She took a big bite of waffle. “The regret could be about something you left behind, or forgot to do at DTE.”

           “Hm, maybe.” Wes sighed and leaned on his elbow. “Or I could just miss Jason.”

           She gave him a small, comforting smile. “Ya know, I feel like we’ll see him again.”