2. BAMPH!

The monster loomed even closer, our noses almost touching. “Hey. Time’s tickin’ and I ain’t got patience for stupid. You understand the words I’m sayin’, kid?”

When the Gem awakens to call a Hero, the world is ill prepared...and its fate is placed in the hands of a 17 year old boy, named Wendell. 

Some will say this is nothing but a tale of fiction.
Let them think as they may. 

After all...I can't fix stupid.

Previously: Wendell and Evan make plans for a date night, and Wendell insists on being the ‘hero’ of the night. He just didn’t know the Universe was listening…

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BAMPH!

My life changed with that sound.

Loud and sudden, an unseen force hit me square in the back, knocking me off my feet. I sailed over the Matthew’s patio table and into their lounge chairs like a bowling ball. Stacked five high against the house, my arms went up, shielding my head at impact. Water from the pool, leaves, and grass clippings followed me, blanketing the patio deck in a wide-arc spray. My long legs, one of my personal curses…flipped up and over the chairs. I moaned as my body slowly came to a stop.

“Ow.”

I blinked painfully a few times, dust and dirt in my eyes. It hurt to breathe. I’d hit the chairs and side of the house, hard. My face burned too, but that’s what you get when you land on cement cheek-first. The awkward position made it difficult to inhale. Hips over my shoulders, a foot and arms tangled in chairs. Pretzels are great, sure, doesn’t mean I wanted to be one.

Without warning, the stacked chairs tilted slowly to one side…and in a crumpled mess, fell on top of me. 

Double ow.

“Did I make it?” Deep with a hint of gravel, I heard heavy gasps somewhere out of my view. “Fingers? Toes! Uhhh...tenders?” There was a pause, and then, “Mahan’s Pink Panties, I actually made it! WooHOO!“ A loud burp followed. “You owe me BIG TIME, old man!”

“Evan?” I said, trying to turn my head. Every effort I made ground the skin of my face harder into the cement. Ow, ow, ow. Reaching towards my hips with a hand, I tugged at the rubber strands of the chair to pull a knee free.

“Good grief. Here.”

Strong hands pulled and untangled the chairs from my limbs. I sat upright and took a deep breath. “SO much better! Thanks, I appre — HOLY COW?!?” My heart leapt, pulling my body with it, back against the pile of furniture. Before I could utter another word, a massive, green, calloused hand clamped down over my mouth.

“Woah there, kid.” Giant bulbous eyes fixated on me as an avalanche of eyebrows tumbled forward into view. “Don’t be shoutin’ and making’ a ruckus. That would be bad…for you.” Thick lids narrowed to slits.

I gulped.

My eyes twitched and watered. I blinked the tears away, but they just wouldn’t stop. I couldn’t help it. Oh, I was scared, sure, but it didn’t bring me to tears. The thing pinning me down was a sickly, putrid green color…and it smelled. Oh, my goodness, did it reek. Have you ever smelled something so bad, you just couldn’t get rid of it? I’m talking skunks as the baseline for yuck. This putrid scent crawled onto my face and forced itself up into each nostril. Rotting fish and old tobacco ash trays. The fumes caused me to cough, forcing bubbles of air to escape through the clenched fingers on my face.

It sounded like mice farting from my cheeks.

The creature stared at me, its head slowly leaning to one side.