Josiah C. Myles The Snap
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Josiah C. Myles The Snap
World of Darkness — Story One
Ah... hello there.
Come in, come in. Don't be shy.
I am Dr. Feywill. And I see you've come all this way... searching for answers, haven't you? Seeking to dig into the mind of this... Josiah Myles fellow.
Well...
You're late.
Time is a funny thing, isn't it? Slipping right through our fingers while we pretend we're in control.
But fine. Fine. Since you made the effort to sit in that chair, I suppose I can share a story with you.
Just one.
Ah, yes...
Let's start right here.
I call this one...
The Snap.
Listen closely now.
Friday
It was mid-May, 2023.
Spring had settled over Maryland, bringing with it the kind of humidity that made the green hills and trees look almost too alive. The town surrounding the university was rural enough that there seemed to be more woods, lakes and open grass than there were actual stores.
Josiah Myles was inside the carpentry warehouse behind one of the university buildings, finishing up another afternoon of work.
He was a little short of being considered tall, with sun-tanned light brown skin and a dense, compact build that made him look heavier than he really was. He wore a domino-colored letterman jacket tied around his waist, black sweatpants marked with little streaks of dried paint, dirty black steel-toe boots, yellow-and-black safety gloves, a worn blue work helmet and a tool belt around his hips.
The other students were dressed similarly.
Today they had been building folding chairs out of two-by-fours.
It wasn't glamorous work.
Josiah liked it.
There was something nice about building something where the answer was right in front of you. Measure it. Cut it. Put it together. If you made a mistake, you could usually find it.
People weren't quite as simple.
The school bell finally rang.
Almost immediately, the warehouse began emptying.
Students flooded into the halls, calling goodbyes toward Mr. Zewtall, who was still somewhere inside his office.
“Hey, Mr. Zewtall, see you Monday!”
"See ya!"
“Be well, Mr. Zewtall!”
Josiah stayed behind as usual.
He and another student, Jacob, finished putting away the tools and hanging the belts that everyone else had been too lazy to return.
Eventually Mr. Zewtall came out.
He was a large, middle-aged man with a bald head, a heavy build and untied work boots.
“Heyya. Anyone still in the shop?”
He found the two of them working.
He smiled.
“Hey, thank you two. God bless, man.”
Jacob looked toward him.
“No problem. Gotta do something the lazy ones refuse to do.”
Josiah looked at Jacob, amused by the bluntness of it.
He gave a low chuckle and shook his head.
“No problem, sir. Don't mind helping. As usual.”
They finished up.
Josiah stepped out into the hallway.
The building was still noisy, but most of the traffic had already moved toward the exits.
He found himself heading in the direction of the gym.
Then he stopped.
A few athletes were walking that way.
Football players.
Josiah watched them for a moment.
He muttered quietly to himself.
“Yeah... so we going to practice today?”
He already knew the answer.
He just didn't like it.
“Boulder!”
Josiah turned.
Tim stood a few steps away.
Slim, athletic, blonde, wearing jeans and a striped polo.
He smiled.
"Hey, Boulder. How you been? You coming to practice? Coach been looking for you."
Josiah forced himself to look casual.
"Oh! Hey. I'm... doing okay. How are you?"
Tim's smile weakened.
"Boulder, come on, man. We need you on the team."
Josiah felt the words hit him harder than they should have.
He wanted to say something honest.
I don't want to go.
Instead, he gave the answer that was easier.
“Yeah, man. I can't. I got family stuff tonight. That's all.”
Tim scoffed, but there was disappointment behind it.
“Yeah, alright, man. Well, make it next time, okay? Hope everything's okay.”
Tim walked away.
Josiah watched him go.
His expression softened.
He felt bad.
That was the problem.
He always felt bad.
Another player caught his eye. Josiah didn't even know his name. The player gave him a grim, apologetic smile before turning away.
Josiah's shoulders sank.
The invisible weight settled back onto them.
He reached into his pocket, put in his earbuds and started some heavy bass music.
He breethd out.
Then he walked outside.
He sat on his usual isolated bench.
He didn't even take off his backpack.
He just sat there, hoping nobody else would come by and ask about football.
Twenty minutes later, a gray Jeep pulled into the nearly empty parking lot.
Josiah recognized it immediately.
He stood and walked toward it.
Inside was Debbie Dallas.
She was Reggie's mother, but over the years the distinction had become increasingly meaningless.
She had taken Josiah into her family.
Not officially.
Not in the way that required paperwork.
Just in the way that mattered.
She smiled at him through the windshield.
“Hey there, son.”
Josiah gave her a warm half-smile.
“Hey, Ms. Dallas.”
He climbed inside.
“Where's Reggie?”
“Probably going to practice. He's not coming.”
Josiah nodded.
Debbie pulled out of the parking spot.
"Your father at home. He's wondering if you could help him move some stuff tomorrow. Seems Reggie doesn't want to help out with us anymore."
“William? Oh, sure. I don't mind. What, is it like normal stuff?”
“Yeah. Just going to the old shed to put some stuff in the truck. That place is a junkyard.”
“Ah. That place.”
Josiah sighed.
"Okay. Yeah, sure. No problem."
The ride home was quiet except for the countryside music playing through the speakers.
Josiah leaned his head against the window.
The tension slowly left his muscles.
That was what being around this family did to him.
He didn't have to perform.
He didn't have to be Boulder.
He could just be Jay.
The Dallas house was a yellow two-story home with a tall white fence around the backyard. The neighborhood was quiet, and through the gaps between the houses you could catch glimpses of the water nearby.
Josiah carried his bag inside.
The dogs looked at him.
The cats looked at him.
He looked back.
"Hey."
They continued staring.
“Alright.”
He headed downstairs.
The basement lights came on one section at a time as he passed the sensors.
He reached his room, dropped his bag and slowly tipped forward onto his bed.
“Timberrr...”
He landed face-first.
The mattress bounced beneath him.
He smiled faintly.
For a few minutes, he didn't move.
His phone sat beside him.
He picked it up.
His thumb moved through his contacts without any real destination.
Then he stopped.
One name.
Mom.
He stared at it.
The contact was blocked.
He didn't unblock it.
He locked the phone instead.
Some things were easier when you didn't think about them.
Josiah knew that was probably unhealthy.
He also knew he wasn't ready to deal with everything at once.
So he didn't.
Life was busy anyway.
School.
Football.
Carpentry.
Work.
Reggie.
There was always something.
And when there wasn't, he found something.
William eventually called him upstairs.
The two of them spent the afternoon at the shed.
It really was a junkyard.
Old equipment, boxes, broken tools and things that hadn't been touched in years.
William pointed.
“Those go in the truck.”
Josiah looked at the pile.
"You sure you don't want Reggie?"
William gave him a look.
“He's busy with his own life now.”
Josiah didn't answer.
He understood.
Maybe too well.
They worked until the truck was loaded.
When they came back, Reggie finally arrived.
The old rhythm returned for a while.
They played games.
They joked.
They talked about old football memories.
And for a little while, Josiah felt like nothing had changed.
Then dinner came.
They sat together around the table.
Football came up.
"You skipped again?" Reggie asked.
Josiah shrugged.
"Yeah."
"Coach gonna be pissed."
“Probably.”
Reggie looked at him.
“You still like it?”
Josiah hesitated.
“I like parts of it.”
Reggie laughed softly.
“That ain't what I asked.”
Josiah looked down at his plate.
“I don't know.”
That answer stayed there for a moment.
Reggie didn't push.
Josiah looked at him instead.
"You good?"
Reggie shrugged.
"Yeah."
"You sure?"
“I'm fine, Jay.”
Josiah studied him.
There was sadness there.
Not enough for Josiah to name it.
Just enough for him to notice.
"You've been busy."
“Yeah. College, people, my girl...”
Reggie smiled.
“I got my own thing now.”
Josiah smiled back.
“That's good.”
And he meant it.
That was the thing about Josiah.
He could be worried about someone and still be happy for them.
He just wasn't always good at knowing what to do about the worry.
After dinner, Debbie drove him to work at the park.
Josiah spent the night working with his associates at Seneca Creek Park.
He was comfortable there.
The work was simple.
People needed things done.
He did them.
Nobody asked him to be a beast.
Nobody called him Boulder.
For a few hours, he could simply be Josiah.
And perhaps that was enough.
The Following Friday
Now this is where things begin to get interesting.
Not because anything supernatural happened.
Not yet.
No, this was still just football.
And perhaps that's the problem.
Sometimes the things that hurt us don't need fangs.
Sometimes they just need expectations.
It was late afternoon in Maryland.
The football field behind the university was alive with noise.
Blue helmets.
Practice jerseys.
Pads hitting pads.
Cleats digging into the grass.
Whistles.
Shouting.
The Raiders practiced every Friday like it was a championship game.
And at the front of the defensive line stood Josiah Myles.
Number 64.
The Boulder.
Six feet tall.
Two hundred seventy pounds.
Compact and heavily built, but somehow still looking lighter than the number suggested.
He was exhausted.
His body felt like it had been beaten with a baseball bat.
His pads were dirty.
His breathing was ragged.
But he was still standing.
That was what Boulder did.
He stood.
He didn't move.
At least, that was what people expected.
For hours they had targeted him.
The old anchor of the defensive line.
The player who used to be impossible to move.
The problem was that Josiah didn't feel like that player anymore.
He was going through the motions.
Why am I here?
He looked at the other players.
They were still energized.
Still hungry.
Still shouting.
He almost smiled beneath his helmet.
How the hell aren't y'all tired? We've been doing this for hours.
The defensive coach, Ted, called everyone into a huddle.
Ted was tall, broad and intimidating, with a sharp silvering beard and a voice that could cut through the entire field.
He pointed at Johnson.
“Good. Keep that pressure, Johnson.”
Then his attention moved to Josiah.
“Myles.”
Josiah looked up.
Ted stepped closer.
"Myles. You hear me?"
Josiah nodded.
“Myles!”
Josiah flinched.
He was tired.
Embarrassed.
And suddenly angry.
Not because Ted was wrong to demand his attention.
Because Josiah hated that anger was already sitting inside him waiting for an excuse.
He gave another nod.
Ted frowned.
"If you're not gonna be a part of the team, you should go home. Stop wasting our time."
The words hit harder than the tackle that would come later.
Ted turned away.
"Reggie, you're the bear."
Then he pointed at Josiah.
“Boulder, you're the bull. Nothing's changed.”
Josiah felt the weight of the word settle on him.
Boulder.
They called him that because he was hard to move.
Because he was compact and strong.
But sometimes it felt like they wanted him to be bolder.
More aggressive.
More willing to hurt.
More willing to become the beast they imagined lived inside him.
Josiah didn't want that.
He hated anger.
He had seen what anger did to people.
He had felt it ruin relationships.
He had felt it threaten his own family.
So he fought it.
Every day.
And football kept asking him to stop fighting it.
“Break!”
The team clapped.
Josiah didn't.
They returned to the line.
A few people in the bleachers started shouting.
“Come on, Boulder!”
“Show them that power!”
“Go Boulder!”
He didn't feel powerful.
He felt tired.
Across from him stood Joshua, number 63.
Six-three.
Bigger than Josiah.
A grin beneath his helmet.
“Woooo! You ready, Boulder?! I'm coming for ya!”
Josiah ignored him.
Yeah. I wonder why.
Joshua wasn't cruel.
He was just competitive.
That almost made it worse.
Because Josiah didn't even have a reason to hate him.
The teams lined up.
Josiah lowered himself into position.
His arms burned.
His legs trembled.
Just anchor.
Don't get moved.
The quarterback started calling signals.
“Blue Rhino! Blue Rhino! Forty-seven ditch! Domingo, Domingo…”
Josiah ignored the words.
He watched the ball.
A beat.
Two.
Then—
star Snap star
Everything exploded.
Pads slammed together.
Cleats tore into the grass.
Josiah drove forward on instinct.
He collided with the center.
The impact forced the breath from his lungs.
But he anchored.
That was what he knew how to do.
He planted his feet.
He became the Boulder.
For a second, it felt familiar.
Then—
star Boom.
The hit came from the side.
Joshua crashed into him like a freight train.
Helmet struck helmet.
The world rang.
Josiah stumbled.
His feet desperately searched for the ground.
His muscles had nothing left.
Joshua kept driving.
Josiah felt anger ignite inside him.
Hot.
Immediate.
Powerful.
Push him back.
Punish him.
For one terrifying second, Josiah wanted to.
Then he stopped himself.
No.
This was a game.
Joshua wasn't his enemy.
He refused to let the anger decide for him.
His footing slipped.
His body gave out.
He fell backward.
The ground hit his back.
Joshua stood over him.
The play continued.
The crowd cheered.
“Boulder's crumbling!” Joshua shouted.
Josiah stayed there.
He stared at the sky.
His muscles were rigid.
His shoulder hurt.
Something hot sat behind his eyes.
He wouldn't cry.
Not here.
Not in front of them.
Don't.
Don't you dare.
He pushed himself up.
His arms shook.
He stood.
Because the Boulder stood.
Even if he didn't want to be the Boulder anymore.
The head coach called the team in.
Practice was over.
Josiah saw Reggie across the field.
Reggie looked at him.
Neither spoke.
That hurt more than Joshua had.
Reggie wasn't really talking to him anymore at school.
He had his own people now.
His girlfriend.
His new friends.
His new life.
Oh, right.
Reggie's cool now.
Josiah looked away.
The locker room was loud.
People talked about the weekend.
The playoffs.
Music.
Girls.
What happened during practice.
Josiah changed quietly.
He removed his helmet.
Without it, he felt strangely exposed.
He looked down at the helmet in his hands.
The scratches across it were memories.
Different teams.
Different games.
Different people.
He remembered high school.
Back when football had felt like a family.
Back when winning wasn't everything.
Back when the Boulder was simply the nickname of a kid who liked playing.
He put the helmet down.
Changed into his hoodie and sweatpants.
Then walked toward the gym.
The gym smelled like cleaning chemicals and old sweat.
It was almost empty.
Josiah stepped onto the treadmill.
He started walking.
Above the door was the strength board.
His name still occupied the top.
Three years ago.
The old numbers were still there.
But other names had begun replacing them.
Joshua.
James.
Numbers he couldn't match anymore.
He stared at the board.
“Let it go, Jay.”
He kept walking.
"It's just numbers."
But he knew what the numbers represented.
He could become that person again.
Maybe.
If he was willing to become something else first.
A beast.
A man who enjoyed hurting people on the field.
Someone angry enough to turn aggression into fuel.
Josiah didn't want to be that man.
He would rather lose the numbers.
He would rather lose the nickname.
He would rather be weak.
At least then he would still recognize himself.
His phone rang.
He looked down.
Lo'monte.
His old friend.
His brother.
Josiah answered.
“Yo, hello?”
A deep, excited voice came through.
“Hey, Josiah!”
“Hey, Lo'monte. How you been?”
“I'm doing great, man. Draft's around the corner. I'm gonna try to make it in.”
Josiah's smile widened.
"Wow. That's cool, man."
Then Lo'monte said it.
“I want you at the draft.”
Josiah stopped walking.
"You're serious?"
“Yeah. Come to Miami. I got the ticket. I want my day ones there.”
Josiah hesitated.
“I've never been to Miami.”
“Then come.”
Lo'monte laughed.
“I'm nervous, man.”
Josiah's smile softened.
"Yeah."
“I know you've always been there for me. I just want you there this time.”
Josiah looked down.
“Yeah. I think I'd like to go.”
He hesitated.
“But I gotta see if I can leave for a few days.”
“Let me know today. It's tomorrow.”
Josiah laughed nervously.
"Tomorrow?"
“Yeah, man.”
The call ended.
Josiah stood alone in the gym.
He turned off the treadmill.
For the first time that evening, he felt a little lighter.
Outside, he saw Xavier by the vending machine.
A bench player.
The coach's son.
He had been struggling all day.
Josiah thought about buying him something.
He hesitated.
What if it embarrassed him?
What if he didn't want it?
What if Josiah was crossing a line?
He didn't know.
So he didn't.
That was Josiah.
He cared deeply.
But caring and acting were two different things.
He went outside and sat on the bench.
The parking lot was nearly empty.
He thought about Miami.
He thought about football.
He thought about Reggie.
He thought about his future.
And for once, he let himself admit the truth.
“I don't know what I'm doing.”
A tear slipped down his cheek.
He didn't wipe it away.
He simply let it exist.
He called Debbie.
“Hey, Ms. Debbie.”
"Hi, hun. I'm just around the corner."
Josiah smiled.
“I'm not bee vomit, Ms. Debbie.”
She laughed.
"Oh right. You don't like the nicknames."
They talked about Lo'monte.
About Miami.
About Reggie.
Debbie asked where Reggie was.
Josiah sighed.
"Probably with his girl. Or his friends."
He paused.
“I'm worried about him.”
“Maybe you should tell him.”
"Yeah."
He thought about it.
“I'll need to think on it.”
He hung up.
The moon hung above the trees.
Josiah stared at it.
He had always liked the idea that somewhere out there, someone was waiting for him.
He didn't know her.
Had never met her.
But sometimes, when he was alone, he talked to her anyway.
Not because he believed he could hear her.
Because believing that someday he would meet her made the future feel less empty.
He smiled faintly.
“Maybe someday.”
Then he looked toward the road.
He had a flight to catch.
Miami
Later that night, Josiah sat on an airplane for the first time as an adult.
The plane was half full.
The cabin lights were soft.
People talked quietly around him.
A flight attendant walked through the aisle, checking that everyone was comfortable.
Josiah was terrified.
He was also strangely calm.
The plane began moving.
The engines grew louder.
He looked out the window.
He searched for the moon.
Nothing.
Just airport lights.
He pressed his temple against the window.
“It's alright.”
He smiled nervously.
“It's what we're gonna do. It's gonna... be what it will be.”
For once, he didn't have control.
And somehow, that was comforting.
Meanwhile...
In Miami, another man stood beneath the moon.
Michael Blackwell stood on the third-floor terrace of a massive white mansion.
To the world, Michael was a wealthy musician.
A rock star.
A celebrity.
A man whose name was recognizable enough that people knew him before meeting him.
Tonight he wore a burgundy three-piece suit.
His dark blonde hair was pulled behind his ears.
His blue eyes reflected the moonlight.
He looked composed.
Almost unnaturally so.
The door behind him opened.
Click.
Clack.
The sound of heels crossed the floor.
Stacy stepped outside.
She was dressed for a night out, wearing a black satin dress and a silver cross necklace.
She leaned against Michael's side.
He immediately wrapped an arm around her.
“I'm ready now,” she said.
Michael turned toward her.
The coldness in his expression disappeared.
His face warmed.
He smiled at her.
She touched his cheek.
“Well, it healed nicely. I don't see it anymore.”
Michael smiled.
“Yeah. They got a bit crazy tonight.”
He leaned closer.
“Though it does kind of hurt. You could heal it more if you wanted.”
Stacy gasped.
“No. You've had enough.”
She playfully slapped his chest.
Michael laughed.
They walked inside.
Downstairs, Oscar was arranging boxes and decorations.
The older black butler looked up.
"Stacy, Michael. You two look lovely tonight."
"Oscar."
Oscar gestured toward the decorations.
“The last of the supplies for the draft party arrived today. I'm about halfway finished. It's a much-deserved relief for everyone.”
Michael adjusted his cuff.
"If you're happy with it, I'm happy with it."
Stacy smiled.
“Well, Oscar, have enough fun for me too. I won't be around for the party.”
She looked at Michael.
“And make sure this one doesn't do anything too reckless.”
Oscar smiled.
"Of course, ma'am."
Michael checked his watch.
“We have a long night of handshakes and donations ahead of us.”
He looked at Oscar.
"Don't stay up too late with the stats."
Oscar gave him a thumbs-up.
"Of course, Master Blackwell. Enjoy your evening."
Michael and Stacy walked toward the front door.
For a moment, Michael stopped.
He glanced back toward the window.
The moon reflected in the glass.
Something about it bothered him.
He couldn't say why.
Then Stacy touched his arm.
"Michael?"
He looked at her.
"Nothing."
He smiled.
"Let's go."
The Archive
Not very interesting, right?
I can hear you thinking it.
A football player.
His old friend.
A rock star.
A wife.
A butler.
And a plane ride to Miami.
What could possibly connect these people?
Ah....
Yes.
You probably want me to tell you.
I'm afraid you'll have to wait.
You see, Josiah didn't know.
And if we're going to understand what happened to him, perhaps we should be fair enough to let him discover it himself.
So.
Let's return to our protagonist.
Mr. Myles.
Miami — The Next Morning
Three hours later, Josiah stepped out of the airport.
He stopped.
Miami was nothing like Maryland.
Neon buildings.
Palm trees.
Traffic.
Warm air.
A faint smell of salt.
He breethd in.
Then out.
"Wow."
He smiled.
The city felt alive.
He walked toward the edge of the sidewalk and stopped beside a large flower pot.
A woman sat on the nearby bench.
Josiah considered sitting beside her.
Then thought better of it.
He didn't want to make some random woman uncomfortable.
So he sat on the edge of the planter instead.
He dropped his luggage beside him.
His phone read 11:24 P.M.
April 26th, 2024.
No notifications.
He opened his messages.
Lo'monte.
Yeah man, after the draft we're gonna be at a party. Rockstar Michael Blackwell is hosting it.
Great. My first trip to Miami and I'm going to a celebrity party.
He typed:
Hey bud, I just landed. Out of the airport building now. Take care, I'll find my way.
He sent it.
A car passed.
People walked through the parking lot.
A bus waited nearby.
A woman on the bench spoke to a man in a black hoodie.
Josiah watched briefly.
He wondered whether she knew him.
Whether she was okay.
He considered intervening.
Then stopped himself.
He didn't know them.
People tolerated a lot from people they cared about.
Maybe they were friends.
Maybe not.
He didn't know.
The motorcycle pulled away.
Josiah watched it disappear.
Then a voice called out.
“Hey! You Josiah?”
Josiah jumped.
A rugged bald black man stood near a car.
“Boy in the black and white jacket!”
Josiah stood.
“Uh, yes. Are you David? Lo'monte's friend?”
“Yeah, Monday I've been waiting for you.”
The trunk opened.
Josiah hurried over with his suitcase.
David was tall and lanky, wearing a red shirt, floral shorts and sandals.
“Make sure you get your stuff in the car.”
“Yeah.”
Josiah smiled awkwardly.
"Would be pretty weird if I got in the wrong car, huh?"
David gave a faint huff of amusement.
“Alright.”
The city passed outside the window.
Neon lights.
Restaurants.
Bars.
Hotels.
People everywhere.
Josiah stared through the glass like a child seeing a new world.
Maryland had been green and quiet.
Miami was color.
Noise.
Movement.
He didn't know what to make of it yet.
He just liked looking at it.
Eventually David pulled into a hotel parking lot.
“Alright. We're here.”
Josiah's heart jumped.
A hotel.
He'd never done this by himself.
He wondered if he was supposed to say something.
Pay something.
Tip someone.
He considered offering David money.
He hesitated.
David opened his door.
Josiah followed.
“Alright, man. Make sure you get all your stuff.”
“Thank you.”
David nodded.
Josiah checked in.
Paid for the weekend.
And immediately laughed at himself once he reached the elevator.
He had been nervous about getting a hotel room.
A room.
That was it.
The elevator opened.
Room 234.
He unlocked the door.
Then stepped inside.
The next morning, Josiah woke up wearing the same clothes.
His suitcase hadn't even been opened.
He groaned.
“What time is it?”
He checked his phone.
11:25 A.M.
He sat up.
“Am I late?”
He stared at the ceiling.
"Hope not."
He fell back onto the bed.
Ten minutes later, he finally got up.
He showered.
Fixed his hair.
Put his jacket back on.
His stomach growled.
His phone buzzed.
Lo'monte.
Good morning, man. We'll meet at Moonlite. 12:30.
Another message.
We changed the diner. It's across the street from you.
Josiah smiled.
“We?”
He chuckled.
“Who's we?”
He searched the restaurant.
Blue Moonlite Diner.
Classic.
Four stars.
Known for onion rings and pizza.
“Alright, bud.”
He put his phone away.
"Guess I'll find out."
Outside, Miami's sun hit him immediately.
Josiah stared at the bright blue sky.
“This is definitely different.”
He kept his jacket on anyway.
A car pulled up.
Josiah looked at it.
A huge black man stepped out.
Cornrows.
Leather jacket.
Black jeans.
Red-and-white sneakers.
Josiah froze.
“Uh... Lo'monte?”
The man grinned.
“Ayyy! Josiah!”
Josiah laughed.
“Gosh. You definitely got taller.”
Lo'monte laughed and pulled him into a dap.
The hands were familiar.
The face was different.
Josiah looked at him closely.
"You okay?"
Lo'monte's smile became practiced.
“Yeah, man. I'm great.”
Josiah didn't believe him.
But he didn't push.
“Alright.”
He smiled.
“Nice to finally meet up again, Green Mile.”
Lo'monte laughed.
“Man, I missed you.”
He threw an arm around Josiah's shoulder.
Josiah flinched instinctively.
Then relaxed enough not to alarm him.
He smiled.
They got into the car.
Blue Moonlite Diner looked like it had been sitting there since the 1990s.
Checkerboard floors.
Red booths.
Old-fashioned decorations.
Josiah stepped inside.
Then stopped.
A woman sat at the table.
She looked familiar.
Very familiar.
Josiah's eyes widened.
Lo'monte grinned.
“Hey, Cali. Guess who's here?”
California looked up.
Then smiled.
Josiah stood in the aisle for a second, stunned.
He gave Lo'monte a mock glare.
Lo'monte only grinned wider.
Josiah finally sat down.
“So this was the surprise?”
California laughed.
“Lo'monte told me out of the blue. Years quiet and suddenly, 'Hey Cals, need you here.”
Lo'monte rubbed the back of his head.
“Yeah...”
Josiah watched the two of them.
A little bittersweetness settled in his chest.
These were people he had once known without effort.
Now he had to remember how to be around them again.
“So how you been, stranger?” California asked.
Josiah blinkeded.
“Stranger?”
He smiled.
"Guess I deserve that."
He looked down.
“Just been dealing with stuff. Since we all stopped talking, I figured we were busy. I just... respected the time away.”
California looked at him knowingly.
Nobody needed to say anything.
They ordered breakfast.
They talked about high school.
Old camps.
Old jokes.
Old embarrassments.
For a few hours, they were teenagers again.
Then Lo'monte's phone rang.
He answered.
His smile disappeared.
He listened.
"Nothing new."
California sighed.
“They calling just to raise your blood pressure.”
Lo'monte laughed weakly.
“The draft's not until ten. It's six. We should head to the Big Wheel.”
Josiah looked at him.
"You gonna be alright?"
Lo'monte paused.
Josiah leaned forward.
“Regardless of what happens tonight, you did your work. You put in the work on that field. Now we wait. Overthinking it isn't gonna help.”
Lo'monte nodded.
"Yeah."
“That's all you can do.”
The waiter came with the check.
Josiah ordered another burrito to go.
Everyone laughed at him for being hungry again.
He smiled.
"Just in case."
The others went to the car.
Josiah checked his bank balance.
Fourteen dollars.
He grimaced.
He transferred fifty dollars from savings.
Then he noticed the A.T.M.
He withdrew sixty-four dollars.
His favorite number.
His football number.
Number 64.
He stared at the cash.
For a moment, football came back to him.
The team.
The Boulder.
Everything he'd left behind.
He pushed the thought away.
Today wasn't about that.
Today was about Lo'monte.
The waiter returned with his food.
Josiah paid.
Then stopped her.
“Ma'am?”
She turned.
He held out some folded cash.
“This is for you.”
She looked surprised.
"For me?"
He nodded.
“Thank you.”
Josiah smiled.
He felt lighter.
Outside, a limousine waited.
Josiah looked at it.
Then at Lo'monte's car.
He felt a strange pull toward the limousine.
He ignored it.
He walked toward the car.
Then the limo door opened.
“Hey! Over here, Josiah!”
Lo'monte waved.
Josiah stared.
"You have a limo?"
“Rented it last night.”
Josiah laughed.
"Of course you did."
Inside were drinks.
Sodas.
Water.
Lo'monte held up a bottle.
“We'll celebrate after the draft.”
“I don't drink alcohol.”
Josiah smiled.
“But thanks for inviting us. It's been nice.”
The limo pulled away.
The carnival was bright and loud.
Music.
Screaming people.
Games.
Lights.
California led the way.
Josiah followed.
For a while, there was no football.
No college.
No future.
No supernatural anything.
Just three old friends having fun.
They played games.
Rode rides.
Argued over stupid things.
Laughed.
Josiah looked around at them.
He felt something warm in his chest.
This.
This was what he wanted.
People.
Connection.
Something real.
Eventually the time came.
They rushed to change.
Josiah came out in a suit.
Lo'monte wore one too.
California emerged in a pink dress.
Lo'monte stared.
Josiah looked respectfully and smiled.
“You look beautiful.”
California smiled.
“Thanks.”
Lo'monte was still staring.
Josiah rolled his eyes.
“Yeah, so you ready?”
They hurried back to the limo.
The draft was everything Lo'monte had dreamed about.
Lights.
Cameras.
Crowds.
Names.
Pick after pick was announced.
Josiah sat beside his friends.
He waited.
They waited.
Another pick.
Another.
Another.
Lo'monte's name never came.
The draft ended.
Silence.
Lo'monte looked down.
Josiah didn't know what to say.
He wanted to tell him it was okay.
But sometimes saying it's okay was insulting when it obviously wasn't.
So he simply sat beside him.
Then, eventually:
“We still got the party.”
Lo'monte looked up.
“We can chill out there. It's not too late to make something out of tonight.”
Lo'monte nodded.
"Yeah."
They left.
Michael's House
The limo drove away from the city.
The lights became fewer.
The trees became thicker.
Eventually a gate appeared.
Beyond it stood a massive white mansion.
Cars filled the grass.
People stood outside with red cups.
Music drifted through the property.
People smoked.
Laughed.
Drank.
Josiah stared.
"Wow."
Lo'monte smiled weakly.
“Welcome to Miami.”
They stepped out.
David was nearby.
People recognized Lo'monte.
Someone asked for an autograph.
Then another.
Then another.
Eventually Josiah lost them in the crowd.
He didn't panic.
He wandered.
The mansion was enormous.
The yard stretched toward a large improvised stage.
And on that stage stood Michael Blackwell.
Playing music.
Josiah stopped.
He listened.
There was something strange about Michael.
Not scary.
Not exactly.
Just...
Different.
Michael's eyes briefly found Josiah in the crowd.
For the smallest moment, the two stared at each other.
Michael's expression changed.
Barely.
Then someone called his name.
His attention moved away.
Josiah blinkeded.
Probably nothing.
Eventually Lo'monte and California returned.
They talked about the cars on display.
Then Lo'monte saw a track behind the property.
“Yo, we can drive on that?”
Josiah laughed.
“Absolutely not.”
Lo'monte grinned.
“Come on.”
Michael was nearby.
Lo'monte approached him.
They asked.
Michael hesitated.
Then looked at Josiah.
"Pick one."
Josiah stared.
“Me?”
“Go ahead.”
Josiah looked over the cars.
He chose a Mustang.
He climbed inside.
Slowly.
Carefully.
He started it.
The engine rumbled.
Josiah smiled despite himself.
For once, he was having fun.
The cars began moving around the track.
At first it was casual.
Then people started racing.
Josiah laughed.
He shouldn't have been doing this.
But he was.
The Mustang accelerated.
Lights blurred.
The road tightened.
A car swerved.
Josiah reacted.
He turned the wheel.
Too hard.
The Mustang slammed into the railing.
Everything became noise.
Metal screamed.
Glass exploded.
The world flipped.
Josiah's hands tightened around the steering wheel.
His body was thrown against the seatbelt.
The sky became the ground.
The ground became the sky.
A flash.
Another.
Another.
The car rolled.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Four.
Then finally stopped.
Upside down.
Smoke filled the cabin.
The wheels spun uselessly.
Josiah hung from the seatbelt.
His head throbbed.
His body hurt.
He could barely breathe.
He heard people running toward him.
Panic.
Screaming.
Someone shouting for help.
Josiah tried to move.
Nothing.
Then something changed.
The panic stopped.
The people stopped running.
Josiah blinkeded.
Through the broken windshield he watched them.
Their expressions changed.
Concern disappeared.
Their faces became tired.
Almost bored.
One person turned away.
Another walked back toward the party.
Josiah stared.
“What...?”
He saw Lo'monte.
California.
They were walking away too.
Nobody seemed concerned anymore.
A voice echoed through the night.
Pleasant.
Calm.
Reassuring.
Josiah couldn't understand the words.
His ears rang.
His vision blurred.
He looked toward the speaker.
Michael stood there.
His back was toward Josiah.
His arms were spread slightly as he addressed the crowd.
Josiah couldn't hear him.
He tried.
His mind slipped.
Something opened inside his chest.
Something cracked inside his mind.
Not like a bone.
Like a door.
Like something had been waiting behind it.
Josiah's eyes struggled to stay open.
He thought of Reggie.
His family.
His mother.
Football.
Carpentry.
The park.
The future he had imagined.
The woman he had never met.
Someday.
He had believed there would be a someday.
He didn't know why.
He just did.
His eyes closed.
And the world disappeared.
The Archive
What a story, huh?
Well...
that's all the time you have for this meeting.
I have more things to attend to.
If you want more...
Come visit me again.
Perhaps next time, I'll tell you what happened after Josiah opened his eyes.
Or perhaps I won't.
After all...
some things are better discovered than explained.
Goodnight.
The End.