Lazarus saw himself floating in a maelstrom of magic. The energies around him sparkled with luminescence and brilliance. Something bright shot into his eyes and he couldn't see in front of him. His feet hit solid ground. Holding his arm up to shield the brightness coming at him he noticed his arm was small, tiny like a kid, then everything around him became normal. He was at the park. His mind felt fuzzy and odd. His mom held him in her arms and she was talking to the neighbor. He was sure about that, and the neighbor was holding a small girl in her arms. It was Cindy. They both sat on a park bench, chatting about their lives and the television.

Lazarus was scared. He could not move like he normally would and drool started to form in his mouth. His mom dabbed it with a napkin. Then he saw what he needed in this dream vision. Two tall people walked up to them dressed in gray suits and black ties. They both wore dark glasses and he realized one of the duo was a woman. Her black hair spilled out underneath her vintage 1950 fedora hat. Lazarus thought it was odd a woman would wear a hat like that.

The pair came up to his mom and the neighbor. His mom didn't even notice the two staring at him and at Cindy.

The tall woman in the fedora hat said, "These are the two."

Lazarus noticed the two tall people's eyes started to glow a phosphorescent light blue luster. Lazarus couldn't stare away from them. The tall man, who also wore a fedora, placed his finger on his head. He felt a slight stinging sensation and then a coolness. The other woman placed her hand on Cindy's forehead. He saw a mark showing an image of waves on Cindy's skin for a brief second and then it disappeared.

He wanted to reach for his head but his mom placed his hands and arms snug in a blanket. Lazarus tried to speak, but his words came out garbled.

Suddenly, a light struck his eyes and he couldn't see for a second. Everything blurred and a sound, a song came to him, a song which sounded familiar. It was a Depeche Mode song called, "Somebody."

Lazarus stood in a high school gymnasium. He was not a baby anymore but a teenager. Teenagers were slow dancing in front of him. Darkness hid their features. Strobe lights splashed along the crowd. A friend of his, named George, stood next to him. The song kept rhythm with his beating heart. He saw that the girl, Yvonne, who he had a crush on was dancing with her boyfriend.

George nudged him. Lazarus shook his head and looked away seeing another person. It was his friend, Cindy. She was all grown up and beautiful, with long blond hair and with her boyfriend slow dancing with her.

"Hey, Lazzy, let's get out of here. The dance is over. I have some more Jack Daniels and beer," George said.

Lazarus smiled. George had called him Lazzy and sometimes lazy, since Freshman year, when they met in English class. They both held a cup filled with coke and JD. They have been drinking most of the night. Lazarus chewed his gum, but he knew that even with the gum if a teacher came up to him the alcohol on his breath would have been obvious.

"Yes," he said.

This was the last dance of the year besides Prom and he was not going. He didn't get a date for Prom. He thought he would have asked Yvonne because she broke up with her boyfriend a week ago, but they got back together tonight. He had missed his chance. His heart was broken and he didn't know what to do. His mind was not wondering why he was back here in the past. All he felt was the pain of the past like it was new and sad.

They walked toward the high school's parking lot. George's dad owned several grocery stores. They were family owned for generations and would be bought up by the large grocery chains several years later. George always pilfered a few liquor bottles for his own medicinal use and kept them inside his bedroom.

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Lazarus tried to remember something that happened tonight, something important or maybe something sad. He was not sure. They got to George's car. It was a top of the line BMW four-door sedan. George popped open the trunk and took out a large paper bag. Lazarus heard the clink of glass.

"Get inside. Let's blow this place."

"Ok."

They both got inside the car. Lazarus was feeling lousy. He grabbed a beer from the bag, popped it open and took a long drink. The beer was semi-cold and it tasted bittersweet and melancholy.

George took the bottle of Jack Daniels, unscrewed the top and took a swig.

"Hey, save some for me," Lazarus said.

George's eyes were red rimmed and he screwed the top back on the top. "We have another pint in the bag. Don't worry. I don't backwash, Lazzy."

"Yuck," he said. Lazarus grabbed the bottle and took a drink. The taste burnt his throat and he almost gagged, but he held it down.

George pulled out of the parking lot and sped down the boulevard. They didn't have a destination and they rode around the outskirts of Santa Fe Springs and then up toward uptown Whittier. Lazarus knew where they headed. It was George's home in Friendly Hills. His parents owned a large house in the rich area of town where the homes were shaded by large foliage and had names like Williard Estates. That was George's last name, Williard. His room was in the back of the home, almost disconnected from the house. The room was created for George as a gift because he made it to his dad's alma mater, Whittier College, a private college that Richard Nixon had attended.

Lazarus had asked if Richard Nixon was a crook. George told him that Mr. Nixon was not a crook. He was pardoned, but according to George's dad he was not a crook but a victim of circumstance. George drove past the venerable Whittier College. The school looked dead and melancholy on his right and he thought George was about to turn into the parking lot of the college, but he kept driving. Lazarus was feeling drunk. His vision seemed to tilt back and forth and before he knew it they were not driving towards George's house but toward Turnbull Canyon. They drove up a winding road. It had been rumored that Satanistslived in the surrounding hills and even an outcropping of ghosts were supposed to roam the lonely two-lane road.

The city was left behind as they drove toward the stretch of road. Their windows were down and the cool air flowed into the car. George was driving fast even when he took the impossible, crazy turns. The car's tires screeched and it swerved but Lazarus didn't care. He took another drink of his beer and then the Jack Daniels.

Lazarus didn't feel the sensation when the car left the street and plummeted down a steep embankment. He didn't hear the sound of glass breaking and metal screeching as the car careened into the trees. He also didn't feel his body as it flew through the glass window and shot out into the night air. He flopped a few times until he struck the ground and fell several times head over heels, smashing his arms, legs and chest.

He heard screaming and realized it was him shrieking. He stopped and tried to move, but the pain was so intense he yelled again. He couldn't feel his legs and arms. He lay on a slope with his body stretched out on the ground.

"Lazzy! Are you there? You got to help me."

Lazarus turned his head. The pain blurred his vision for a second and he yelped. He saw George and the remains of his car stuck in a tree, skewered by the branches and smashed by a boulder.

"George!" he croaked. "I can't move."

His friend was trapped. George could not get himself unstrapped from his seat belt. Lazarus smelt something. It was the bitter and sweet tang of gasoline. It made him light-headed and euphoric. Lazarus tried to help but he was paralyzed.

He said, "Can you get out of the car?"

George struggled to get out. Then Lazarus knew what was going to happen. It was inevitable. A fire erupted from within the car's engine.

George yelled as the flames engulfed the car. Lazarus couldn't do anything. The fire started to catch around the area of the crash.

Lazarus was in danger and he couldn't move. He watched as the flames caught all around the steep slope, coming closer to him. He was going to die. George was still screaming.

An explosion rocked the car and acrid smoke smothered his nostrils. He couldn't breathe and his sight was dimming. Struggling to keep awake, he tried to move his body to gasp for fresh air. He coughed violently which brought about another bout of intense pain.

The noxious fumes ceased. He smelt cool, clean air. And his pain became dull aches. Two people stood before him, silhouetted against the fire from the car. Lazarus couldn't see the features of the two people, but he knew who they were and he said, "Why did you save me? You should have saved George."

Suddenly, he was floating again in a maelstrom of magical energies. He saw his other body sleeping inside a jeep and the person next to him was shaking him.

"Lazarus, you have to wake up. Lazarus."