“Dylan doesn’t recognize me. But I do. I come here to help.” I had a thousand years of experience. I was the one knowing him the best. We ate all the combinations and types of tacos. We chased the crows and stray cats. Time was beautiful. * At his school, the bullies’ drive for power was tedious and thick-headed. “I belong to no one. I am I.” Who would take the bait when you had magic? This body felt empty, weary, depleted. If it was for him, if it was, for Dylan. Fall, fell the red maples. Dylan, who held his head no higher than the neck, made a face. Something went wrong. I checked. Red-handed, red spray, spraying Dylan’s locker red. I was about to scare them off. I bound them and hid. Minutes later, “So much fun spraying my stuff, boys?” The steady clatter of leather shoes slashed through the silent passage. He grabbed the spray and pulled one by his collar, “Too merciful to have your shirts colored, right?” he looked back at my direction, “I’m asking!” His trousers got grayer as he murmured “yis… is…” without moving his lips. He raised the can to their eyes. I canceled the binding. They fell on the floor and scattered away, half skidding half crawling. Dylan dropped the can, standing still. “Who, are you pretending? Superheroes? Teaching them a lesson and then let them go? Do you know, what I have gone through? Do you!” I stayed squatted, silent. “Come out already, I know you are here.” He left me no choice, “I do. Dylan, I do. But that should not be you. Calm…” He dropped coldly, “You are not me”, swung open my embrace and dashed out. A red maple hit the ground. I was right. He changed. I forgot how long, how long I had remained in this posture. Leaning against the grass, watching the sky turning from tangerine to navy, then lavender to maize, thinking about the ten minutes. Our friendship became awkward. I was at my limit. Days after, scratching his head, “Hey, I want to apologize, causing a fuss that day. In return, I… I want to show you a place.” I was delighted. I was careless. Grabbing my hand, in we went into the woods, where grains of sunlight was forbidden to penetrate. He held out his hand, “Give me to me…” “Give it to me…” I was dejected. “Now, hand it over.” My face darkened, “Make me.” He yawned and pressed a button, above me rumbled a rolling boulder, ricocheting, closing by. My instinct glided me away from Dylan. Down it fell on the ground, a twig. “What?” Clearing my thought, he pressed another. A heavy log of nowhere fell, above his head. I turned away, ‘Just leave him. He is no Dylan I know. But he was.” His monotonous face, tilted, judging me, “You are not gonna save me?” My eyes cried, “Promise, promise me, you will make it for good use.” I chanted. A glow agglomerated, turning the log into thin powder. Mountain Brew, the tree essence I exchanged, gradually formed. The direr the situ, the heavier it cost, the weaker I became. He grasped the brew and grinned, “You did it.” “You are hopeless.” I lay on the ground, every aching bone yelping in pain. “Not really. You make yourself an easy opponent.” The few words running into my ears whitened my mind. He looked calm. The falling log. His betrayal. My doubt. Everything, in ten seconds, just ten seconds.
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