Intruding

I sit in a crowded room with many other students. Our TA directs us to pick out our favorite shoe from our box. My box is filled with really ugly shoes, and I have a hard time finding something that is not a loafer. Finally I pull out the only colorful thing, a Pepto-Bismol colored pump with a bow on the toe. We go around the circle telling why we picked out shoe and I have a hard time explaining, "Well, I like the color, even though I really don't like wearing pink..." My TA takes the shoe and pulls the heel off, showing me that it converts into a flat. I like it even less now, and I say so, putting the heel back on, and realize how uncomfortable it would be to walk in a convertible shoe.

Now the class, which includes some people I know, has moved to a very messy house. While it wasn't us who messed it up, I feel like we should at least pick up, and the first task is to locate all of the portable phones. I find three out of the four; the last one has run out of batteries, so I decide to just clean up the rest of the house until I find it. Some of the walls are Chinese paper screens. I keep finding dirty dishes and bringing them to the sink for the dishwashing team to clean. As I bring the last, large pile of dishes, a car pulls up in the wooded driveway, and three people get out. Suddenly I realize this is Kris' grandparents' cabin (although arranged completely differently), and they're about to find me in the middle of their trashed house. We frantically wash the last dishes, but can't finish as Kris' great aunt comes in the house. His grandma is next, and pulls me into a hug, saying, "I'm so glad you came back like you said you would!" (This is true. In reality, the last time I saw his grandparents at the cabin his grandma said I should come back and I said I would.) His grandpa says, "I'm glad you took us up on the offer!... and you left a few dirty dishes, didn't you?" He chuckles, but I am incredibly embarrassed about the mysterious mess, and I leave very soon after.

I walk down a street that resembles the intersection of Delridge in front of my parents' shop, but in London/West Seattle instead of White Center. On one side fo the street is my grandma's old house. A few of my friends and I ave been sent on a mission, I think to open the door when the trick-or-treaters come, even though some filmmaker lives there now. We crawl conspicuously through the front yard, which has been trimmed of its nice hedges, and narrowly avoid some cobwebs getting through the shed into the backyard. We go in through the back sliding door and creep around silently. I get to the den, hear the television and see the silhouettes of children through the crack in the door, and finally feel like I shouldn't be there. I try to find my followers and silently tell them we need to leave, when the front door starts to open. "Abort! Abort!" I whisper, and fall through the floor into the garage.

Back to the Present

I enter a restaurant/cafe, similar to the ice cream parlor in Fairhaven, and my companion orders a drink. I pass for the moment and notice something odd; all of the espresso machines (there are several) and situated to face outwards from the counter, so the baristas have to come all the way around to make your drink. We head over to the south side of the cafe.
--
Instead I find myself speeding in that direction at a high rate of speed in the driver's seat of some sort of futuristic hovercraft. Doc sits next to me, yelling out directions to dodge our pursuers, who shoot at us with laser beams. I pull down violently on the steering wheel and the vehicle lurches upward steeply. All we can see in front of us now is a star-speckled void. Then slowly, we begin to tip forward, increasing our speed with little hope of avoiding crashing directly through the Wal-Mart below. I turn to the passenger, who is now my companion from the cafe, and inform him/her of our fate. At this point the screen in front of us goes blank and the motion of our car freezes. Instead, the screen illustrates in glowing green arches our projected path of destruction. My companion asks, "Why bother to tell us, when we're going to die anyway?" I point to a blinking arch on the screen, tilt my head sideways, and trace it with my finger. "Because this is the path we're going to take."
Everything unfreezes, and we glide gracefully to the ground.
We step out of the car, no longer very concerned with our pursuers, and walk up the steps to the courthouse. I pass an ugly Asian prostitute with a vicious expression.
--
I step up to the counter, telling the barista not to get up, I'll take care of my drink. I steam pitchers of chai and milk at once. The milk heats much more quickly, and as I turn it off, the chai expands rapidly, threatening to run over and make a mess. Moving at an alarmingly slow pace, I manage to turn the steam off before disaster strikes. I begin to pour the syrupy liquid into a paper cup, but realize I am going to have too much, so I pour the rest into another cup. Adding milk and tasting the result, I realize I have made a serious error in ordering sweet chai, but say nothing. The barista compliments my milk. I thank her and stutter something between "I've been working on it" and "Practice helps". As I finish pouring, another barista rushes up, crying, "Someone's friend is on the phone, he needs to say something but he's about to leave the airport!" With a jolt I realize this is Alex, and I need to say goodbye, although I didn't think it was summer yet. I sprint across the room and seize the phone, but it has already gone dead.
--
Inside the courthouse, I dash up the marble steps, frantically looking for the prostitute. I hope I will recognize her, because she has probably changed drastically in the time that has passed since I first saw her on the stairs out front. I realize now that she is the key to the mishap in time travel. I spot her on the next floor propositioning a lawyer, and I make towards her urgently. The lawyer is annoyed that I think I have a higher priority than him, and the prostitute just looks creeped out, and shuffles away. Growing more frantic, I reach out and grab her arm.
--
In the restaurant, I give Alex a hug. He tries to give me a paper plate for the buffet, and I hug him again. He asks if I have been drinking, and I respond, "No, but I probably should."
The buffet is gorgeous and vegan, with plates of steamed corn, rice, roasted peppers and asparagus. I fill my plate but realize we are late getting to it, and there isn't much food left. I put some back, even though I am starving.
--
Alex, Michelle Burce and I take a walk behind the Wal-Mart. Michelle carries a blanket in a plastic sack, and insists that we take it, because she can't stay to watch the meteor shower. I still don't believe it is summer already.