He built the boat, piece by piece. It was the exact replica of a boat he knew, a boat sunk to the bottom of the deep sea.
As he fastened the final pieces a story came to life. Two lovers sailing the seas, youngsters loving like only youngsters in love can. Wild and free they were conquering the world.
On the ocean bed something moved.
There they are. What might they be?
They’re not from here, that’s for sure.
By the great rings! Those disgusting creatures are stealing the eggs! I’ll kill…
Wait… Not just yet. Look.
This is amazing. I didn’t even expect to find microorganisms so soon, and here we are bringing back eggs.
Sure is beyond my wildest dreams. Let’s get it up on the…
Wait, something is happening. It seems to be hatching…
The lever! It’s stuck!
It’s coming this way! Run!
The two men ran off, leaving the Spin Devil (TM) running at full speed.
Melvin was hanging on to the restraints as the machine went faster. Something was wrong. It shouldn’t be going this fast.
He forced his eyes to look around, his mind to focus. He saw fire. Parts of the roller coaster had fallen down. Screaming people was running around on the ground.
The giant park mascot Baggie came walking out of the fire. It was coming this way.
…One day, deep in the darkest parts of the old library, he found a book. The words pierced his soul like a summer breeze, like soothing honey, like bare feet in warm sea water.
He sunk into a world he had never known, he swam through knowledge and wisdom. He went deeper, touching the truth beyond it all. He knew there would be light in the end of the tunnel.
Two eyes stared at him…
Tapping his fingers on the table, he looked at the little bottles in front of him. Eeny meeny miny moe… he stopped at the biggest one. He grabbed it, walked over to the window. Watched the blue sky for a moment, took a deep breath of fresh summer air. The little tap was put tight, he had to struggle for a little while to get it off. Dark clouds came flowing out of the bottle, up towards the skies. They grew. The sky darkened…
He punched big spikes into the ground. Big, strong iron spikes, deep into the soil, so the ground would stay put. He knew it would peel off, someday, if he didn’t. It would peel off for good, leaving us all on a hot rock to die.
He knew if he didn’t do it, no one would. He didn’t like it. He didn’t want to do it. He had to.
One day two men came by.
-Why do you punch spikes into the ground? they asked.
-To keep the surface from peeling off, he had answered.