The Eyes Of Kid Midas

Such a change would cause earthquakes and mass destruction.

But those were the old rules, weren't they—and the old rules didn't count anymore. The world might as well be flat, and the sun might as well be on the back of a chariot that pulled it across the sky . . . because it was eight in the morning, and the sun was setting in the east.

Josh skipped his early dinner and paid an emergency call on Kevin Midas.

15 THE KEEPER OF DREAMS

It was already dark when Josh reached Kevin's house, and no lights were on. He rang the bell but didn't hear it ring. He knocked but no one answered.

There's no reason to panic, Josh said to himself, not believing it in the least.

He climbed in through an open window and quickly discovered that the house had no electricity.

'Kevin? . . . Teri? . . . Mr. and Mrs. Midas? ...' No answer. The close-cut curls on his head seemed to clench tighter.

He followed the smell of smoke to the kitchen, where a waffle iron was burning over a full gas flame. Josh turned off the burner.

'Kevin, where are you?'

He listened, and after a few moments he thought he heard a weak voice.

'Kevin, is that you?'

'I'm up here, Josh,' whispered the voice.

Josh climbed the stairs into darkness.

At the top of the stairs Josh saw, at the end of the dimly lit upstairs hallway, the bathroom door.

At first Josh couldn't tell what was wrong with it, but as he drew closer, he could see that a sheet of frost had gathered at the bottom of the door. He could hear something dragging itself across the floor on the other side.

'Kevin, are you in there?'

'I starved the glasses, Josh,' came that god-awful whisper. 'I did it. They don't work at all now, but I can't get out...'

As Josh got closer he could see that the door itself was no longer made of wood. It was a dark, heavy gray slab, and when Josh touched it, his fingers stuck to the frozen surface, as they did when he touched the inside of his freezer at home.

The door had turned to lead. Kevin must have lined the entire room to keep all forms of energy out.

'Where's Teri, Kevin? Where are your parents?'

'Away...,' said Kevin. 'Just . . . away...'

Josh didn't like the sound of his answer. Bertram had been sent away, too. 'Why is the sun setting, Kevin?'

'Never mind that,' snapped the raspy voice. 'I can't get out . . . . You have to find someone who can get me out . . . the police . . . firemen . . . anybody!' he said. 'Because . . . I think . . . I think I'm dying, Josh.'

Josh took a step away. The possibility had never been discussed, but Josh had feared it all along. That Kevin would abuse those glasses . . . until they killed him.

'You gotta help me, Josh ...'

He should have taken the glasses away from Kevin as soon as he knew what they could do. He should have buried them at the base of the Divine Watch, so deep that no one would ever find them. But he hadn't, and now everything had come around full circle, back to him. Josh held the solution to the whole problem in his hands like a heavy, dark sword.

'Kevin,... if I let you out now, the glasses will start working again . . . things will keep changing...'

'We'll worry about it later,' hissed Kevin. 'Save me, Josh.'

Josh tightened his hands into fists to stop them from shaking. He banged his head against the wall, hoping to knock some sense into it, or at least to knock himself out so he could lose himself in his own dream world instead of Kevin's.

'Josh, are you there?'

There were two truths on the edges of Josh's sword. The first truth was that the only way to save the world was to remove Kevin Midas from it. The other truth was that he loved Kevin like a brother. Tears exploded from Josh's face, and he squeezed his eyes shut to hold them in.

'Josh, why won't you answer me?'

Josh could never win this one. If the solution was like a sword in his hand, then no matter which edge he used, the other edge would cut him down as well. Whether he saved Kevin or the world, he would have to suffer with his decision all of his life. With two choices each worse than the other, Josh knew which one he had to choose.

'Josh?'

'I'm here, Kevin.'

'Are you getting help?'

'I . . . I just called the police,' said Josh, pushing out the lie like a bad piece of meat. 'They're on their way.'

'Good.' Kevin breathed a shivering sigh of relief. 'Thank you, Josh. You're the best friend ever.'

 ***

Josh pressed his palm against the frozen door once more, losing his battle to hold back the tears. He hadn't called the police. He hadn't called anyone. 'Good-bye, Kevin,' he whispered so softly that only he could hear it. Then he turned and left.

Halfway down the stairs he began to run and didn't stop running until he got home, where he buried his head deep in his pillow so no one could hear him scream.

 ***

In the chill of the October morning-turned-evening, the wind that had spent weeks shattering dry leaves on the pavement stopped dead, hushing like the surf before a tidal wave. The cloud cover that had been spreading out steadily from the Divine Watch for two weeks had, at last, reached the town of Ridgeline.

Single drops of rain began to fall, dampening the ground and preparing it for a sheet of rain, still ten miles away, that rolled south like a wall of water.

 ***

In his tiny dungeon of a bathroom, Kevin lost all track of time. He drifted half conscious through the loneliest, emptiest expanses of his mind; a dim universe growing dimmer by the minute. Then for a moment, perhaps the moment before dying, Kevin regained his senses and realized where he was.

It was much later now. Kevin could tell that it had been a long time since he heard from Josh.

'Josh!' he tried to yell, but all that came out was a wheeze of air. He pounded on the door, and it rang out with dull leaden thuds, but no one was out there.

If he closed his eyes now, he knew it would be for the last time.

But wasn't this what I wanted? thought Kevin. To kill the glasses at all costs?

Maybe not.

There was something he wanted more than that. He wanted to live. Kevin hadn't known that his will to survive could be so strong—so overpowering that it turned his fear into fury. All that mattered was getting out and getting warm—and both those things required giving the glasses whatever they needed.

There had to be a way out—but how? Wishing wouldn't make it so; the glasses were powerless now—and he had sealed himself in there so well it would take a battering ram to get him out. If he were going to live, then the answer had to come from him, and it had to come now.

Then all at once, the answer did come.