• tab We move in complete and utter silence to the front door. Nobody seems to notice Tom's invisible feet (and my invisible wheels) pressing down against the soft lawn. Then again, in their mind, there's no such thing as invisible people from the future. Makes me wonder how many times a Time Jumper was right in front of my eyes, yet I just couldn't see them.
    tab Tom gives me one last silent signal as he takes out the key and unlocks the door. Which makes sense, of course, because this used to be his house. He must've kept it as a keep sake...or something like that.
    tab We walk/roll inside, and I am happy to report we walk into a nice and cozy enviorment, for once.
    tab "Tom? Is that you?" A voice calls from another room in a different room, my ultimate guess is Tom's mother. Tom silently closes the door, so as she comes in she see's...
    tab Nothing.
    tab She just stares there for a second, pondering probably on what exactly she heard, if not the door opening? She gives one last, curious glance, shakes her head, and leaves. Tom stares at the watch on his wrist, and says, leaning close to me,
    tab "Upstairs." I give him a questioning look, when suddenly without so much as a warning he swipes me up into his hands. Ah. That's how you solve a problem. He tip toes on upstairs, careful not to make any creaky noise. After climbing the stairs, we veer to the right, into a small bedroom. Tom places me in the middle of the room. This broken leg business is going to get more annoying than I thought.
    tab "This...it used to be mine," Tom says, looking at the room up and down. He walks over to a dresser, and picks up an alarm clock, examining it with reminiscing eyes. He puts it down, and finishes,
    tab "This room...it used to belong to me." There's a short strand of silence, and then we hear the door opens from downstairs.
    tab "Me..." Tom utters. Seeing how awkward that statement was, he quickly adds, "Well, the other me, if...that...makes any more sense." I listen intently as Tom's mother says,
    tab "Tom...That is you, right?"
    tab "No, it's not." Man, I'm going to have to live with this kid for the rest of the week? But Tom's mother just laughs, and goes on to say the typical,
    tab "So, how was school?" There's a short pause, and then comes the reply,
    tab "Bad. Real bad."
    tab "Really? How so?"
    tab "Have to do this stupid science project with Mary...Freakin' Mary!"
    tab "What, is she mean to you? Does she get bad grades in class? Did you guys get in a fight?"
    tab "No. None of the above." The mother's voice seems to lighten up as she says wholeheartedly,
    tab "Well, then I see no reason that--"
    tab "Just shut up, okay? Shut up! I don't need you--need you getting into my life. This is my life! I do what I want with it."
    tab "What? I didn't--"
    tab "I know what you're doing, mom. You're trying to make me appreciate friendship. Trying to make me make friends." He pauses for a second, and then in a horribly annoying mock voice screeches, "Friendship is great! Go make friends, 'cause friends make the world go 'round! Friends, friends, blah, blah...Whatever, just shut up!" Wow. If that were me talking, I'd...Well, let's just try not to think about that. That's the closest I've ever heard to the figurtive "human's" nails on a chalkboard. The stomping noise implies that Tom the younger is very angry, and that he's...a 14 year old that acts somewhere closer to what I acted as a toddler.
    tab "Just stop trying, all right? Just stop." The stomping noise is getting louder. Tom the older looks at me and says softly,
    tab "Get to the wall. Now." Don't have to tell me twice. I crawl over with Tom, and both of us scrunch up to the corner of the room, and watch in silence as Tom Jr. comes rampaging in to his room. He collapses onto his bed, and stares up blankly.
    tab Another set of booming stomps leads me to believe Tom's mother hasn't quite had enough yet.
    tab "You come back down here this instant, young man, or I'll..."
    tab "Or what?" Tom cries loud and clear. How does this kid listen to himself all day? "You're gonna ground me? Take my privileges away? Keep me away from my friend's houses? That's too bad, I don't..." The door swings open and in comes Mrs. Jacobs, swelling, red stained face abroad.
    tab "You will wait right here!" She pivots around and slams the door behind her. I turn to Tom, and comment slyly,
    tab "Man...Your life was kind of soap opera-ish." He turns back to me with this sarcastic look and retorts,
    tab "Like your's wasn't?"
    tab "What?" is my confused yet honest reply.
    tab "I did some research on your background history before rescuing you, and, let's face it, you weren't living an 'average' life, even before this time jumping business." I don't answer this, just stare at the wall, hoping that life will just move on, and he'll just forget about it and say something else.
    tab He does.
    tab "Let's get down-downstairs."
    tab "What the heck was the point of coming up here if we were just going to go to the basement?"
    tab "I needed to do something."
    tab "What?" He stands up, makes a little stretch, and then grabs a small, framed painting from the wall of a fisherman on a boat.
    tab "This." With that, he then smashes the picture onto the ground, the glass shattering into little shards."