FUSE

Chapter 8

Fire Water and Bad Music

I sprint through the door and into the lobby. Recent arrivals stand in line waiting to be checked in by the angels. Crystal chandeliers dangle above my head, suspended from the ceiling by gold chains. Huge windows look out over the universe, the stars, planets, moons and every other type of celestial body sparkle brighter than the diamonds and rubies decorating the curtains. Serenity emanates from the walls, and the musical voices of the front desk angels yelling "next," drown out the chatter and laughter coming from the long line.

I slow down just to absorb the beauty of the room. Then I dash forward yelling "wait."

Stan and Richard stop just before walking through another door. I reach them and collapse forward squeezing my side, hoping the feeling of a knife stabbing into it will stop.

"Alright!" Stan says, sticking his arm out to fist bump me. "You decided to live a little. Pardon the pun," he says, dropping his arm when he notices I'm not going to bump his fist. Instead, he grabs for Richard's hand. "Grab on to Richard's hand. It's time to party!"

He pulls us out the door, and we plummet into darkness. Suddenly, the universe surrounds me. I try to focus on a planet, but it keeps rotating around me, while moving farther away. When Richard spins past me, I see the universe isn't spinning, we're spinning.

Whirling faster than a tornado, Stan grabs my hand, and the spinning stops. We are floating in the blackness of the universe. I'm not scared. I'm terrified. I don't recognize anything in this part of the universe, and I don't know if anyone from the Universe Patrol Corp is assigned to patrol it.

"Spinning is such a great way to travel," Stan shouts, his fingers still locked together with mine.

Richard, wearing his usual dumb grin, flaps his arms like a hyper chicken. For a while, we float aimlessly. Richard attempts a few somersaults, and I, of course, tell him to stop it. But, we both become completely still when Stan snaps his fingers and begins to grow. The little soul doubles in size before our eyes. "Ah," he exhales. "That feels so much better. I hate squeezing into my uniform. The last guy assigned to cleaning the debriefing room was small, and when I took over, they refused to give me a new uniform. Just changed the name printed on it. I'm stuck with it." Stan waves the shirt over his head, and then flings it into space. "Follow me," he says.

I look around but can't see the door back into UHQ. Suddenly, it occurs to me, Richard and I have no choice, we must follow, because only Stan knows how to get back inside.

I hear Richard's yelp and watch his head fling back. An invisible rope pulls me down by my ankles.

"This is so cool," Richards exclaims. "It feels like falling out of an airplane in slow motion!"

Our rate of speed increases with each passing second, and we move farther and farther from the UHQ.

"I want to stop! Let's go back," I shout.

Stan sneers and shakes his head. "Relax, you're going to love this place. Just enjoy the ride."

We pass planets and stars. In the distance, I see entire galaxies moving away from us. I try to cry out to Richard, but we're falling faster than the speed of sound.

Queasiness sets in from the decent. I twist my neck to find Richard. Instead, I spot Stan, and forget that I'm falling. A few feet in front of me, Stan moves his arms into a giant T position and starts changing. My eyes widen, and terror constricts my throat. I can't even yell. Stan's stubby fingers turn claw-like, and shiny, black greasy hair sprouts on his formerly bald spot. A blast of wind shoots between us, and transforms into a cape. Stan reaches out, grabs the cape and flips it around his neck. The red glow that always emanates from his work shirt is nothing compared to the molten red radiating from his face.