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dolari“This is it, huh?” Jana stared blankly up the yard.
“Yes, ma’am,” replied Sylvia from her box.
Jana stared for a second more. “We’ve been chased by a half-dragon emperor, fought an entire ogre tribe, and had a shotgun pointed at my face.” Again, she stared. “And this is it, huh?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“It’s so…normal.”
“And about time, too.”
The one story grey bricked suburbanite home, with two car garage and beautifully hewed woodworked front door with oval window pane sat, rather normally, between two other similarly built houses.
“If it weren’t so quiet,” Jana said, “this could have been my home.” Sylvia listened for a moment – there was quiet. No road noise, no airplanes, just the occasional shriek of a kid playing tag, and the birds hiding in the tall pines.
“This town was my home for a good number of years in the old world. It hasn’t changed a bit.”
“Were you here in 1997?”
“’96.” Why would Jana be interested in a date four years before she was born, Sylvia thought. “Why 1997, hun?”
“That’s what the date says here on this newspaper.
Sylvia swung her senses over to Jana, and saw the young woman holding a newspaper. “Township to spray Toftrees for gypsy moths. Building code under fire. New petitions against tax,” she read off to Sylvia. “It’s so…normal.”
“Not quite,” Sylvia responded. “It hasn’t been 1997 for a long time. Still, it’s nice to be home.”
Jana wrapped the newspaper back in its rubber band and walked up the concrete driveway towards the front door and lightly rapped against the door with the paper. Looking in through the oval window, it seemed the house was empty. “There’s no one here.”
“Something is here, I can sense its wishstone.”
“I’m around back!” came the shout from the backyard. “The gate isn’t locked, let yourself in!”
The backyard was a typical suburbanite backyard, with its concrete patio, green Bermuda grass and wooden privacy fencing. It was immaculately kept, with a koi pond in the back, grass trimmed to exact height, a small stack of logs in the corner, and a warm sizzle from the barbecue grill. A small victory garden sat in the back.
“Have yourself a seat!” came another yell, this time from just inside the house. “The burger’s’ll be ready in a minute!” Jana looked around cautiously, and not sensing any threat, gently put her pack down and sat at one of the four chair surrounding the glass ironwrought table. “Stella isn’t going to make it today, so there’s plenty to go around!”
Out of the open doubledoors came an older man, not old enough to be retired, but old enough to look his age, loaded down with fixings. He looked up from the freshly chopped pickle slices at Jana with a twinkle in his eye that reminded her of her father. “Hope you’re hungry, I had to cook all this before it started to turn.” He looked around the backyard. “I thought I heard two of you.”
Jana didn’t know what to say. This was so…normal. Normal enough, though, for her to know that a talking skull was probably not something the man was used to. “No, sir. It’s just me. My name is Jana. Jana Anderson.”
“What a proper name and proper manners, Jana Anderson” the man remarked flipping his burgers and hotdogs. “We don’t usually get both of those from out of towners.”
“Out of towners?”
The man slathered on a thick layer of mayonnaise from a small mason jar on a grilled hamburger bun. “Dressed like you are, you’re probably not from around here. Maybe Huntingdon, but not from here.” He grinned to himself amused at getting a dig at the rival high school town that most likely no longer existed.
Jana began to get self conscious, suddenly realizing the suburbs of
“Still, you’ve got a good name, and you seem to be human, unlike some of the out of towners we get. You’re probably just one of the poor souls caught out there when we scratched the world.” He placed a thick burger on a plate in front of her. “The name is Marty Yoder. Welcome to the last vestige of the modern world,
