The Buchanan Effect

A World So Strange

March 1939

As I stand there looking at the flyer a soft clatter of heeled shoes echoes behind me and a soft, feathery voice with a slightly deep Brooklyn accent says, "Hey pal, are ya lost?"

I turn to see a man in his early twenties, with deep brunette hair, a soft angler nose, soft plump rosy lips, a soft, angler jawline, and the kindest steel blue eyes I have ever seen. I blink several times as I take in his appearance.

The man studies me and muses, "You're not from around here, are ya pal?"

I shake my head, "No, I'm not from here. I'm new in town," after a beat, "Say, can I get your name?"

The man chuckles, "Ah, it's James, but most people call me Bucky."

The man holds out his hand and I shake it and say, "Hello James, I'm Zemo, it's nice to meet you" I smile.

James beams from ear to ear and says, "Why don't you come and stay with me while you're in town. I'm sure Steve won't mind," after a beat, "You haven't seen a little skinny guy trying to pick fights around lately, have you?"

I shake my head, "No, I haven't, hopefully, he's at home. This is no weather to be picking fights in."

James smirks and nods, "You're right, Zemo, Let's hope he's home. If he's not I'll find him and kick his little scrawny ass."

I follow James to his small quaint house. When we step inside I see a small scrawny man with blonde hair, a small round face, and blue eyes with flecks of green in them. I study the man and realize that there's a dismantled radio in his lap.

I hear James let out an exasperated sigh and mutter, "Steve, what the hell are you doing?! I told you not to dismantle the radio and I will have it fixed on Monday." he walks over to Steve who just pouts.

Steve grumbles, "I wanted to fix it myself. Apparently, I wasn't able to do that." he gathers the parts and wraps them up in an old sheet, ties the sheet up, and sets it to the side. 

A few moments later, he notices me standing awkwardly by the mantle. He studies me for a few seconds before uttering, "Bucky, who's that?" 

James sighs and utters, "That's Zemo. He's gonna stay with us for a few days." 

Steve stands up and approaches me. He stands a few inches shorter than me. He puts his hands on his hips and peers up at me and says, "You're not a Nazi are you?"

I sigh, and shake my head, "No, I'm not a Nazi. I'm not even German. I'm Sokovian," after a beat, "Look, Steve, someday in the distant future you'll understand who I am." 

Steve and James just stare at me as if I'm mad or off my rocker before shrugging it off and going back to bickering with each other like a married couple. I stand by the mantle and watch as James goes into the kitchen, returns with a plate of food, and tries to get Steve to eat something, but Steve refuses to eat. 

James sighs, and grumbles, "Steve, you need your strength, come on you gotta eat, pal."

Steve turns away and grunts, "No, I don't think I will."

I gently shake my head with amusement before I quietly say, "While I find you guys amusing, can I get a change of clothes? My blue pants and shirt don't quite fit in." 

They both stop their bickering and finally take in my appearance. James sets down the plate of food in front of Steve and says, "Here, eat this Steve, while I go find something for our friend Zemo to wear," he turns to me, "Follow me to the room and I'll get you a change of clothes."

I follow James to a small bedroom with only one four-post bed, a quaint wooden nightstand, a skinny floor lamp, and a tiny closet with a floor mirror next to it. I see James go to the closet and riffle through the six different outfits hanging in the closet. I watch him pull out a simple white button-down long-sleeved shirt, plain black trousers with suspenders, a black blazer, a pair of white cotton socks, and a pair of faded black dress shoes.