The Eyes Of Kid Midas

while,' said Brian. 'It'll get worse before it gets better, but I'll stay here with you.'

'I'm sorry for what I did,' begged Kevin.

'Just shut up and get some rest.'

 ***

Kevin drifted in and out of consciousness as the sickness got worse, but Brian never left his side. Kevin thought he would die a thousand times over, but after what seemed like an eternity, it began to get a little bit better, as Brian had promised.

Kevin opened his eyes to find Brian sitting at his desk, building an elaborate Lego castle.

'Amazing things,' said Brian. 'I haven't played with these in years.'

'What time is it?' asked Kevin.

'Nine-forty-two.'

'Oh, right,' said Kevin. 'Duh!'

Brian sighed. 'I'd better get back.' He got up from Kevin's desk. 'It's been surreal, but I've got places to go and people to see.'

He took one last look around and laughed. 'What a scream,' he said. 'I hope I remember this.'

Kevin followed him to the hallway, his legs feeling stronger by the minute.

'Wait, you're just gonna leave me here?'

'That's the general idea.'

'But you can't go!' cried Kevin. 'Everything's still screwed up—and what about the glasses?'

'The glasses!' said Brian with an amazed grin, as if remembering something he had completely forgotten.

'I can't get myself out of this,' said Kevin. 'Even if I had the glasses, I can't undo the things I've done—I've tried every which way....'

Brian shrugged. 'Did you let someone else try? Maybe someone else could use the glasses to fix the things you can't.'

The thought robbed the very air from Kevin's lungs, making him dizzy and speechless. As he thought about it, Kevin realized that Brian had the answer. How selfish and short-sighted Kevin had been! Why couldn't he have seen that it would take someone else to 're-imagine' the mess he created? Teri, Josh—anybody could have done it if Kevin had let them try. It had always been in his power to fix things—by the simple act of letting it be in someone else's power. But there were not others left—only Kevin and Brian.

Brian grabbed the doorknob.

'Wait,' said Kevin. 'I've got an idea. The glasses are probably healed by now. I'll go get them and give them to you—and you can fix everything!'

'That's the whole point,' said Brian. 'I can't fix things.'

'Yeah, you can,' pleaded Kevin. 'You can fix anything—I'll bet you don't even need those dumb old glasses to do it, either.'

Brian just shook his head. 'What are you, nuts? Who do you think I am?'

'I know who you are,' said Kevin, in a solemn voice reserved for extremely important information.

'No,' said Brian. 'I think you're still seriously clueless. Take a good look, Shrimpoid.' Then Brian knelt down to Kevin's level and looked into Kevin's eyes—eyes the same shade of blue as his own. This close, Kevin's blurry vision came into focus, and he could see everything about Brian's face that he had missed before; the slope of his nose and the shape of his eyes, and the tint of his dirty-blond curly hair. It was all so very familiar—so familiar that for the strangest moment, Kevin thought he was looking into a mirror.

Brian didn't have to tell him who he was, because now Kevin knew. He should have known from the very beginning—not because of the hair, or the eyes, or the tone of his voice, but because his visitor chose to call himself Brian, which was, after all, Kevin's middle name.

'But, how . . . ?'

'Beats me,' said 'Brian.' 'Maybe you asked to see your own future while those supercharged shades were still on your face. So, do you like what you see?'

Kevin smiled. 'I like it a lot.' Kevin was about to begin throwing out all the questions—what do I grow up to be? Where do I live? What happens to everyone else? But before he could say another word, a sound came wailing in from beyond the door. It was a very familiar drone, and now Kevin knew how Brian's journey was possible. The sound on the other side of the door was an alarm clock.

'Gotta go.' Brian pulled open the door. 'Can't sleep my life away!'

'But how do I get out of this?' asked Kevin.

'I can't remember.'

As Brian crossed the threshold, Kevin peered in, but Brian stepped in his way, blocking his view.

'No peeking,' he said.

'Right. See you later, Shrimpoid.'

'Who are you calling Shrimpoid?' said Brian with a smile, and Kevin noticed for the first time that 'Brian' was about six feet tall.

Brian closed the door, slicing off the sound of the alarm, and when the echo of the door had faded, the stillness of 9:42 returned once more.

Kevin, still weak and a little tipsy, hurried downstairs, out the back door, and up the hill. He hadn't seen much of the world beyond 'Brian's' door, but the glimpse he did get was enough. He saw a life for himself! A world with a blue sky and trees and sunshine. There was a way out!

At the top of the hill, the glasses were nowhere to be seen.

Kevin carefully searched through the dirt beneath the twisted tower, in an ever-widening circle, with patience and determination. Finding a needle in a haystack was, after all, a simple enough thing if one took the time to do the job right.

Kevin found the glasses in the tall grass near one of the legs of the tower. Sure enough, the glasses had pulled themselves back into one piece, and although the lenses were still covered with hairline fractures, they were already beginning to disappear, one by one.

The glasses will always be here, thought Kevin. They would always be there, waiting—but they weren't necessarily waiting for him, were they? That was just in his own head. The glasses, after all, were just a machine. Kevin's putting the glasses on was no different than if he had gotten behind the wheel of a monster truck and headed downtown. If he ended up totaling every car in town, it wouldn't be the truck's fault—he had no business driving the thing to begin with.

With that in mind, Kevin slipped the shades into his pocket and decided to go looking for a truck driver.

 ***

Just a few miles north of town, Kevin hit the front of the storm, where stationary raindrops hung in the air like an impossibly dense fog, soaking him to the bone. As he walked along the highway, he noticed that things around him were changing. It wasn't just his eyes, he was certain of it. The buildings and trees around him were only shadows, and even the raindrops that hung in the air seemed less and less real.

It was as if now that the world had stopped, it was beginning to fade away like an old snapshot. Soon it would all disappear into gray nothingness.

Kevin trod the wet roads, resting only when he absolutely had to, on a trek that would have taken many days had clocks been counting time.

Kevin trudged through cities, then towns, then into wilderness, until he finally came face-to-face with the mountain.

The Divine Watch, robbed of its color, disappeared into the rain clouds. Kevin forged his way to the base of the mountain, resting for only a few moments before beginning the climb.

He made his way up and up until the clouds became a thick mist around him. Then they gave way to a sky the likes of which had never been seen before. Though it was already beginning to fade, the sky of Kevin's imagination was magnificent.

It looked like a painting in brilliant shades of blue, violet, and red. Spheres of planets loomed huge and imposing on the horizon, beneath triple suns that cast Kevin's shadow in three different directions. It was every bit as impressive as another world could be, but now that he had seen it once, Kevin didn't care to see it again. He