Chapter 37

The Choice of Twilight

Ty awoke in a familiar white room. He stared at the far off ceiling just long enough to remember that he shouldn't have been able to see anything at all. His hand went to his face, expecting to find blood, fresh or dry, but there was none. Only a scar.

It ran from above his right eyebrow down to his cheek. He could even feel a small trace of it on his eyelid. Why the healing power didn't take care of it, he didn't know. Maybe he'd used it all up.

Ty rolled over. Gentry laid motionless beside him on the floor.

Footsteps came from behind and Ty leapt up, spun around, sword flashing. A friendly face peered at him from over his blade.

“Hello, young man. It's good to see you again,” the robed old wizard said, his voice cheerful.

Even if Ty wanted to hurt him he wouldn't have been able—the old man gave off a mysterious force that kept Ty's sword a safe distance from his face.

Ty lowered his weapon. “Please, sir, my friend—”

“Do not worry, Gentry will be fine.”

“You... you know his name,” Ty said, surprised.

“Far more than his name. Could you hand him to me? If you would be so kind. I apologize, but perhaps you've noticed that I'm not as young as I used to be. If I break my back, I will be of no help to either of you.”

Ty carefully gathered the two pieces of his friend and passed the torso to the wizard.

“My, my,” the man said as he took the puppet in his arms, holding him with as much care as Ty always did. “I have to say, this is by far the worst condition I have ever seen him in—and that is saying something. But don't worry,” he added, “as I said, he will be fine. His legs, please.”

The old man took them from Ty's outstretched hands and placed the bottom half where it connected to the rest of Gentry. A gnarled old hand emerged from the folds of his cloak and hovered over the broken wood. The gears on his staff rotated, and a bright, dark blue light formed in his palm, growing bigger until it encased Gentry completely.

Everywhere the light touched, time wound back. The missing pieces grew from nothing, putting the two halves of his body back together again. It wiped away the smallest of his cuts, and filled in the larger ones with new wood until Gentry was as good as new.

His eyes opened and they focused solely on Ty. The puppet smiled and touched Ty's scar.

“We match.”

“Yeah, I suppose we do,” Ty laughed and Gentry joined in, his voice as good as new.

The puppet looked up at who held him.

“Hello, Gentry,” the wizard said.

“Hey, old man. It's been a while.”

“Yes, it has.” He placed Gentry on the ground, the puppet stumbling a little but managing to stay on his feet. “You're still as reckless as ever.”

“Actually, I was rather responsible this time. Ty just kept getting me into bad situations. And that whole cut in half part? Completely his fault.”

“What?” Ty exclaimed while Gentry wobbled on his legs, laughter making it harder for him to keep his balance. “It wasn't my fault this place is crazy! And I didn't go jumping off of buildings every two seconds! Er, okay, the cutting in half thing was actually pretty much my fault. I already apologized for that—like, twice!”

“I know,” Gentry said, all traces of teasing gone. “Thank you, Ty. For everything.”

The man tapped Gentry on the shoulder and the puppet nodded.

“Ty, I've got to go now.” The man tapped him again and his body started to vanish. “It's been fun.”

“No, wait! What's happening?” The man wouldn't fix him just to destroy him now... right?

“It's all right, I'll be fine. I've done what was asked of me; I got you through the door. And you went above and beyond what was asked of you, and did not leave me behind—despite my countless protests. You did well.”

His body from the chest down vanished, more disappearing with each passing second.

“Will I see you again?”

Gentry smiled. “Every single day. We share the same room, remember? Goodbye, Ty.”

“Later, Gentry,” Ty said, softly, as the last trace of his friend faded. A painted smile hung in the air like the Cheshire Cat until it, too, left him.

“I must echo what Gentry said,” the old man's voice broke the silence, “and tell you what a fantastic job you've done, young man.”

“'Young man', why do you keep calling me that? I don't think you did before.”

“What else would I call you? You are not the boy I met at the start of this dream—yet not quite a man. But you will be, soon; one of a great and outstanding quality. I am so very proud of you, Ty.”

“It's no big deal, really,” Ty rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed and unsure of what to do with himself.

“How wrong you are! It is a very big deal. I don't think you yet realize just how rare you are. The choices you made were one in a million, as most people see growing up as a black and white affair. You either throw aside 'childish things' and move on, or stay a helpless child forever.

“But you chose neither of those. Your choices were black and white in perfect harmony, a balance of the two and something new all together. You, Ty, are gray.”

“Gray?” Ty asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes... well, perhaps that wasn't the best example. Hmm...” He grew silent for an uncomfortably long time as he thought, but Ty figured it rude to interrupt.

“Ah, I've got it!” He exclaimed. “Picture the two options instead as light and dark.” The man walked closer and placed one hand on the boy's shoulder. “You, Ty, are neither dawn or dusk. The path you walk goes between the two. A twilight road, if you will.”

“Twilight... I like that.”

“Good, good!” He patted Ty's shoulder a few more times. “I knew I had a brilliant metaphor somewhere in this old brain.”

Ty didn't know what to say next, and the wizard didn't appear to be interested in supplying a new subject of conversation.

“Um, sir... what happens now?”

“Fine question! Why, you are free to leave and live. But, before you go, I must ask for your sword.”

Ty hesitated. He had no reason to mistrust the man, he knew and helped Gentry, but... his sword?

“I assure you, I will take care of it. There are many battles ahead but, for now, they must be fought with words and actions—not swords.”

“I understand, sir,” Ty said.

Ty spun the sword around one more time—for nostalgic reasons—and then entrusted his beloved blade to the old man.

He took it, opened his cloak a sliver, and thrust it through. As the sword passed the opening, it vanished, similar to how Gentry did. The golden brick shimmered on top of the hilt and Ty's heart sank.

“Wait!” Too late; the sword was gone.

The man opened his hand, the golden brick upon his palm. “I do believe that you should hold onto that.”

Ty breathed a sigh of relief, nodded, and took it from him. He held it protectively in his fist, his fingers rubbed the surface of it and his thoughts drifted to Anna and the last time he saw her. Before, that memory brought fear and confusion, but now it brought a small grin to his face.

As if reading his mind, the man said, “The person who gave that to you is very important.”

It wasn't a question, but Ty answered it as one anyway. “Yes, she is.”

“Then, I suggest you hold onto her even stronger than that brick. Gold may sparkle and shine, but love glows all the brighter.”

Ty's vision blurred. He blinked and that made it worse.

“Our time is almost up. Do you have any final questions?”

The most important question Ty had flew from his lips, “Will I forget all of this? Is it even real?”

“Whether it is reality or fantasy does not matter. This place has changed you—you know it, you feel it. That is real, and you will not forget it.”

The edges of the old man's body wiggled and squirmed like a mirage, the walls seeming dimmer and farther away.

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“But will you forget this dream? No, I don't think so... for I fear this world will not soon forget you.”

Everything lost its outline, as if someone had run up to a painting in progress and threw a bucket of water on it.

“Wait!” Ty yelled as he weighed questions, searching for the most important one. “What is your name?”

“Goodbye, Ty. And remember—keep that inner child alive and well.” The man raised his hat, giving Ty his first good look at the man's eyes.

Ty's heart lurched to a stop. “...Grandpa.”

“I love you, Ty. Never forget that.” His voice changed, becoming more familiar with each word.

The ground gave way, and the blur that was his grandfather shrank farther and farther away as Ty drifted closer to waking. And home.

“Oh, and by the way,” the man's—no, his grandfather's—voice suddenly burst inside his head. “Happy...”

#

“...Birthday, Ty!” Lily yelled as she jumped on top of her brother and exploded in a fit of giggles.

Ty's eyes snapped open and, upon seeing his sister, immediately assumed that the puppet Lily had returned to murder him. He kicked her in the stomach, sending her up and over the side of the bed to where she crashed onto the floor.

Ty sat up so fast he almost fell forward. He tore the covers off in search of his sword. Where was it!? Where was—then he remembered. A quick look around his room—full of his unburnt things—confirmed it. He was back home.

Which meant...

“Lily!” Ty scrambled to the edge of his bed and peeked over the side of it, afraid of the damage he might have done. “Are you all right? I am so, so sorry. I thought you were—”

Lily popped up into a sitting position, stared at him long enough for him to start to worry even more, then she rolled around on the floor laughing her head off. With any other kid he would have feared brain damage, but that sort of behavior was normal for her.

He breathed a sigh of relief and fell back onto his bed. He was home.

He realized that there was something in his hand and opened his fist. The golden brick shined from his palm, right where it had been in the other world. And... he still remembered! Everything! San, the factory, Forty-Four, the mall, Gentry—

Gentry!

Ty stood up on his bed, attempted to jump but got caught in the blanket and fell flat on his face, much to the delight of Lily. Her laughter increased and Ty wondered if she could even breath.

After an epic battle with the blanket, he managed to free himself and make it to his dresser where... Gentry sat in the exact spot Ty placed him the night before. Only one thing out of the ordinary: his cloak was nowhere to be seen.

At a snail's pace, Ty extended a finger and poked Gentry on the head. He did not stir.

Ty picked him up. Had he always been so small?

“Gentry,” Ty whispered so as not to make Lily think he was crazy. “Say something.”

His painted lips didn't move. Just as they never had or ever would in this world. He was there, though, back in his room just like he promised and that's all that mattered. Ty put him back on his shelf.

“Ty, what's wrong with your eye?” Lily gasped, done with her rolling around fit he presumed.

“My eye?”

She took him by the hand, led him to the mirror on the side of his dresser, and pointed. The scar was still there. He traced it with his finger, half-expecting it to run away when he did.

“Does it hurt?”

“It did,” Ty turned his back on the mirror, ruffled Lily's hair, “but not anymore.”

“How did it happen?” She asked as she ducked away from his hand.

“I... I don't know.” He opted for the lie since it was a million times more believable than the truth. But... maybe he would tell her the real story one day, just to see what she would say.

“If it doesn't hurt, then come on!” She'd already moved on to the next thing, as she tended to do. “It's your birthday! Don't you want your presents!?”

“All right, all right!” Ty laughed and Lily took him by the hand again, jumping with excitement as if it were her own birthday.

She led him from his room, down the stairs, through the kitchen, and into the living room where his family jumped out of poorly picked hiding places and yelled happy birthday.

Then, almost literally, he was attacked by presents, much to the amusement of his father, who stood back out of the line of fire. Ty opened them with dread at what he might find inside. He needn't have worried—he didn't find a single pair of socks or underwear.

But none of the presents beat Gentry.

After the excitement died down, his mother and grandma noticed his scar. He showed them the golden brick, told them that he slept with it and that it must have scratched him when he rolled over in his sleep. A very poor story, but they believed it. His mother said that it would heal right up.

He wasn't so sure about that.

The cake came next. They sang and Ty blew out the candles—all thirteen of them. His wish... well, that's a secret.

His grandma cut the cake, passed out the pieces, and they all sat and ate. Laughter and love came from the kitchen for the first time in months, and Ty enjoyed every second of it.

After the cake disappeared, Ty and his father were left alone in the kitchen, at opposite ends of the table. Their good friend Awkward Silence soon joined them.

“Thirteen, eh?”

“Yep.” This conversation felt awfully familiar.

“A teenager.”

“Uh huh...” Should he run now? Tie down his things? Fetch the fire extinguisher?

His father got up from the table and sat down in the chair beside Ty. Father and son looked one another in the eye, and both thought of the last time they'd faced each other: the toy store.

“I want to apologize to you.”

For burning my things? Ty thought. Secretly hating me since birth? For—

“For what I did last night. And... how I've treated you.”

The unexpected turn in the conversation left Ty speechless.

“When your grandfather was alive, we never spent any time together—much like you and I. We were so different from one another, maybe even complete opposites. I'd like to say that now, finally, I understand his goals and ideas... but I don't. I probably never will.

“But I've realized one thing since he's been gone: none of that mattered. I didn't need to understand to love the man. And that goes the same for you. So, Ty. I want to tell you what I never told my father and what I have not said enough to you: I love you.”

“I—I love you too, dad,” Ty wasn't sure how he formed the words, but he heard himself speak them.

His head buzzed with disbelief. Did words full of emotion and pain really just come from his calm and cold father? In some ways, Ty believed it too good to be true. And deep down, Ty doubted everything his father said.

Ty ignored those feelings, pushed them back into the far corners of his mind where they wouldn't bother him—not today.

His father got out of his chair and hugged him. Ty returned the gesture as loose tears fell from his father's eyes and landed in Ty's hair.

Ty never knew his father could cry.

#

Family birthday shenanigans over, Ty walked up the stairs back toward his room. His grandmother stopped him in the hallway.

“You know, you look older already,” she said, hugging him tight.

“Thanks, grandma.”

“But really now, you got that scar from a plastic brick? If you're going to survive your teenage years, your cover stories are going to need some work.”

“No, that's what happened, I—”

She wagged a finger at him. “Don't lie to me, young man. Later, I want to hear all about your dream.”

With a smile and a wink, she went back down the stairs, leaving Ty stunned in the hallway.

She knew. Somehow, she knew! Had she been there before, too? Did she know about his grandfather being there? He wanted to chase after her, ask her thousands of questions—but he could do that later. Right now, he had other matters to attend to.

Ty walked to his room, closed the door, and retrieved his cell phone from his bed. He flipped over to Anna's name and was about to press it right as the phone vibrated. Caught off guard, it slipped out of his hand and he dove to catch it. He pressed the talk button and put it to his ear.

“Hello?”

“Happy Birthday!” Anna's voice screamed through the phone. His Anna, not some shameless imitation.

“Thanks!” He sounded far too cheerful for his tastes—but he couldn't help it. “Oh man, you have no idea how wonderful it is to hear your voice.”

“Wow, dude. Creepy much.”

“Ha, ha, no, I meant…” He rubbed the back of his head, the gesture a permanent nervous habit it seemed. “Well, let's just say I had a weird dream.”

“Good weird or bad weird?”

He stopped to seriously consider. “A little bit of both.”

“Sounds awesome, I look forward to hearing all about it later. You are going to tell me, riiiight?”

Without even hesitating, he said, “Of course! But not today.”

“Mmkay.” She wasn't satisfied with that, he knew, but he didn't want to talk about it just yet. He wanted to start living. “Just don't forget about it, all right? Write it down or something.”

“Yeah, I might just do that.” He paused, forcing himself to say, “Hey, can we... hang out or something today?”

“Sure!” He had never heard Anna show so much enthusiasm before. She seemed to think along the same lines and tried to downplay it. “Er, I mean, it's your birthday! We can do anything you want.”

“Good, because I really want to hang out with you.”

There was a pause before she answered, Ty could see her blushing in his head. “Um, well, you know that art theater? They just started their yearly showings of The Nightmare Before Christmas. Would you want to...”

Was it possible? Anna at a loss for words?

“Go see it with you?” Ty finished for her. “I'd love to! It's a date.”

Ty using the word “date” of his own free will? Impossible!

“R-really? Okay! I'll meet you in your front yard in a few minutes—sound good?”

“Few minutes...” Ty's gaze drifted to his mirror. He didn't like what he saw. “Got it.”

They said their goodbyes and hung up. As soon as Ty put his phone in his pocket, several minutes of over-reacting about every single physical imperfection he could find ensued. He needed to make himself look perfect—a task he had never tried before in his entire life. Doing so now, he wondered how anyone could go through the stress on a daily basis.

His hair—that was the most important thing (girls liked hair, right?) was overly long and unwieldy, long overdue for a haircut, the ends curled out of control and his bangs were almost in his eyes. And the parts that weren’t in his eyes stuck up in weird directions. He tried flattening it with his hand—that didn't work. Next, he found a comb he didn't even know he owned and wrestled with his hair, begging it to cooperate.

When he finally got something that looked somewhat decent, he realized he hadn't changed into new clothes. He gathered up the only clean items in his room, threw them on, and messed up his hair all over again in the process.

He played with his hair while he dug around inside his dresser for something. He threw 90% of its contents onto the floor before he found what he was looking for: a necklace.

He unhooked the ends, removed the store-bought shark tooth, and looped it through the golden brick's chain. He slipped it over his head—conscious of his hair—and the brick fell against the middle of his chest. It felt natural there.

Ty examined himself in the mirror one last time. He decided there was no more that could be done, and he ran for the door. In his haste, Ty's elbow brushed against Gentry, and the puppet tumbled from his perch, taking a pile of dirty clothes with him. He hit the carpet without a sound and the clothes buried him underneath.

Gentry could have stayed there for the remainder of the day and, overtime, been pushed far underneath Ty's bed, lost in the mess of a teenager's room for a very long time. Maybe forever.

“That isn't where you belong, dude,” Ty said as he scooped the clothes off of Gentry, placing him back in his rightful place where he would always stay. Forever in sight, forever a friend.

As Ty left his room to meet Anna, he was hit by uncertainties. What would he say when he saw her? Would things be awkward? Did she expect them to hold hands? To kiss?

Hours ago, such questions would've overwhelmed him and filled him with doubt. But, today, the unknowable outcomes sort of excited him.

Maybe Ty didn't hate new things after all.

THE END