4 s1.e4 Joy Control

"I don't get it," Jace said as he thumbed through the thin pages. "It's just a grid full of TV shows. Is it supposed to be like the guide that comes up on TV?"

"What do you think they had before modern set-top boxes? Couch potatoes relied on this little weekly book for decades. It was like their bible. And when there were still only fifty or so decent channels with stuff to watch, it all fit in each little issue."

"Okay. Why is so much of it highlighted?"

"Worked on that all morning," Wes said and took a bite of his donut. "In fact, the first set of shows I marked in pink start at eight, so I'd take the time to get ready."

"Get ready for what?"

"Two days straight of TV watching, buddy! I'll be there for some of it, but for the most part, you're on your own. Still got a few… things to take care of."

"You want me to sit in this room for two days while you're running around doing who knows what? What are you so busy with, anyway? I thought this whole trip was supposed to be something for both of us to do together."

"Sorry, Jace. It's mostly boring adult stuff. But that's okay—this is important for you. Forty-eight hours from now, your mind will be so drenched in modern shows, and commercials, and attitudes and looks and sayings… that you might feel like you were actually born the same year I was. It's like conditioning. But the fun kind!"

Although he could think of worse wastes of time than spending all day in a nice, air-conditioned room in which he could do anything he wanted while watching television, Jace still let out his typical sigh and shook his head.

"It looks like you picked more than one show per time slot… uh, a lot."

"That's just to give you more options, let you watch things that might interest you. Or just flip through the channels and check out a little bit of everything."

"And you watched all of these?" Jace exclaimed as he went through two days-worth of grids like a flipbook. "How did you have time for anything else?"

"It's not like every show was new at the same time. But they're all new to you. I mean, I watched a lot of reruns. It's great seeing your favorite episodes over and over. I'd memorize lines, look forward to a scene, try to remember what happens next… And if I wasn't sitting down to pay attention to the TV, then it was at least almost always on in the background. Everything I highlighted had some effect on me growing up. I think you'll really get a good handle on what the decade's kids are talking about after this."

"Why is that so important again?"

"Well, like I said, you could try to make a friend or two while you're here."

"Just one problem. If you're gone all day, then I'll be stuck with a remote and TV that are spazzing out on me because time doesn't like me being here."

"I think I figured out a way to solve that problem. Or maybe at least make it less frequent." Wes pulled the hotel room's remote control out of his large pocket and tossed it down onto the bed for Jace to see. "What do you think?"

"The heck?" Jace held the remote in his hands and didn't quite believe what he was seeing. "T-this… You wrapped it in my underwear? What is wrong with you? Sicko."

"Sorry that I had to go through your stuff. You didn't have much I could use. But I figure, if it's covered by atoms or whatever from our time, it'll be more stable."

Jace looked at all sides of the remote, seeing how a pair of his briefs was tightly covering most of it, aside from its lens and buttons. And for good measure, its first layer was a clear plastic bag. Figuring it was also his, he remembered where it had come from.

"Hey, I had a bagel in this bag. You didn't eat it, did you?"

"It's in the minifridge. So, what do you think? If you're not touching it directly, it might work better. Did you know that all of the atoms in our bodies are different than those we had a year ago? I'm thinking that maybe once enough of yours get swapped out with ones from 1995, the glitch will go away. But that's just a guess."

"Yeah, fascinating. I dunno… I thought you had come up with something a little more, uh, scientific than an underwear shield. Kind of disappointing."

"Come on, I think it was a pretty creative solution."

"So…" Jace began looking through the guide again. "You think all these shows you highlighted are the greatest things ever, made you who you are, and you've probably memorized every episode. Maybe see all the characters as your close friends."

Wes laughed. "Didn't you learn anything from the movie? They're just television shows, kiddo. I don't put them on a pedestal. Some of them aren't even that great. But others are classics, sure. And they were our primary source of entertainment. I mean, we liked video games, yeah, but we couldn't play them online yet, and we all had different consoles. But TV is a universal language amidst kid lore. It's one way we connected."

"Okay. And what are some of your favorites? What should I watch the most?"

"Again, I'll let you decide which ones grab you the most. And I try not to play favorites. But I can tell you what I remember watching the most often. All from memory. I'm not trying to impress you, but it's a pretty long list…"

"I don't really care that much."

Insulted, Wes snorted and then scoffed, "For that, I'll sound them off anyway. So, uh… where to start? I have a lot of shows to talk about."

"We both know you're going to talk about Nickelodeon first…"

"Okay. I'll talk about Nick shows first. The central pillar of entertainment in kiddom. At least if you had cable. You know, the channel didn't have its own shows when it was first created. Wasn't until '91 or '92 that the original three Nicktoons came around. There was Ren & Stimpy, which was the gross out one that really helped define the channel's early culture and would probably never be made now. A dog and cat go on misadventures, and the show harkened back to the cartoons of the 50s. A lot of parents were probably put off by its more adult humor, but my mom was cool with it.

"Then there's Doug. Uh, it was a show that you watched because it was on. Every now and then it broke out of mediocrity, but by the time you've seen every episode, you wondered what you really learned. It's about a kid, his intelligent dog, the girl he stalks and the bully who stalks him, and his colorful friends of somewhat indeterminate age and their everyday problems… And the main character goes into trances every episode, where his imagination blows his grievances and things that stress him way out of proportion. But it still had a place in my heart. Until Disney bought and ruined it.

"Then of course there's the original Rugrats series. Talking babies, adventures, their perceptions of the world—but the adults are also interesting and have their own stories. Got so popular in reruns that they brought it back a few years after it originally ended. Had the longest run on the network until our friend SpongeBob came along. Had a few movies. Propelled the studio into making, like, four or five more shows. The writers show the smallest thing we take for granted and make it a big enigma for the tykes. The second and third seasons are the classic, prime stuff. And it even got rebooted in 2019."

"Geez, Uncle… Do you have all of this written up or something?"

"Hey Arnold! is also really good, but it won't be around for a few years. Oh, but Rocko's Modern Life is. It's about a wallaby and his animal friends and everyday objects and events trying to kill him—and it also got away with a lot of adult jokes. Um… I think the channel is still playing Tiny Toons, about the next generation of Looney Tunes characters going to school with the originals as their professors. Steven Spielberg was involved with it, and its successor, Animaniacs, a kind of new age variety cartoon that's highly regarded, but probably more so for its Pinky and the Brain segment.

"Nick also had game shows, that basically started with Double Dare, which is all about getting messy, and later Wild and Crazy Kids, involving children your age doing bizarre outdoor activities. Legends of the Hidden Temple is the crux of them. After a bunch of trials whittle down teams, one of them gets to go through this giant booby-trapped filled obstacle course. Don't hold your breath seeing someone win, though—that didn't happen very often. I think they actually made a movie from it for some reason in 2016.

"And as far as live action shows go, you had Clarissa Explains it All, about a kind of snarky teenage girl who offers domestic life tips and is okay with a boy climbing up to her room on a ladder all the time. Pete and Pete, a brilliant little show about brothers who both have the same name, their weird parents, and their weird neighborhood. Are You Afraid of the Dark?, where kids tell scary stories at a campfire—and still managed to scare me sometimes when I was your age. You keeping up with me? I've only started."

"What should I do, take notes? You're going to keep talking no matter—"

"Didn't watch much Hey Dude and Salute Your Shorts, but All That, a kid's version of Saturday Night Live, was required viewing. Subsequently, one of its actors went onto co-host Kenan and Kel and later joined, basically forever, SNL itself."

"Are we done with Nick yet? I had no idea they used to have so much variety…"

"There are still a few others I can talk about, and I haven't even touched on Nick Jr., but, yeah, I'll move on. So, there were a lot of other cartoons, on the other channels, but you had to know where to look. Lucky for you, I did all of that in the guide. Disney took a bunch of their properties and turned them into shows starting in the late 80s.

"Chip and Dale: Rescue Rangers, TaleSpin, and Ducktales gave existing characters their own new stories, while new characters sometimes came around, like the crime-fighting waterfowl in Darkwing Duck. In the late 90s, Disney started making more human-oriented cartoons, like Recess, which is about school and the playground and little local legends. But that isn't around quite yet. Oh, but Goofy gets a son and Pete as a neighbor in the suburban slapstick Goof Troop series. And the channel has tons of other offerings.

"Saturday morning cartoons still exist, for now, and there are kid shows on ABC in the afternoon, Fox has Fox Kids, and a channel called The WB has a youth block as well. Honestly, they were all secondary to me, so I don't really remember what's on what, but Batman: The Animated Series is usually seen as the Batman show, you know, if you like Batman. Or there's the anti-super hero, The Tick. Or a whole bunch of demonic ones, in Gargoyles. And Eek! The Cat exists. I didn't really watch that one…"

"Are you about done? I'm not even taking any of this in."

"Feel free to watch Beavis and Butthead on MTV. I won't tell your mom. Show's a cultural hallmark. It even brought Daria and King of the Hill into existence later on." Wes began to fall into another nostalgic trance. "And Simpsons is only in its, like, sixth season, and in its prime. Can you believe they're still making new episodes? I know your mom still watches it. Ah, hm… I guess I'll also just mention ReBoot, the first CGI television show. Normally not a big fan of those, but I make an exception with it. It's about characters that live inside the computer world and have to beat human users at games.

"Anyway, enough cartoons. They were my bread and butter, but there were some live action and early 'reality' shows I watched, too. Like Rescue 911, where William Shatner narrates stories where, well, people call 911 and get saved. And Unsolved Mysteries—which should only be watched at night. The unforgettable theme song and Robert Stack's voice are a perfect mix, and everything is scary, whether the mystery in question is paranormal or a disappearance. Both shows had top quality reenactments."

"Uncle Wes…"

"You got a couple of Star Trek shows if you want some sci-fi, and Next Generation even has a character named after me," he joked. "If you want more paranormal, weird stuff, try X-Files. Twin Peaks might still be airing reruns, too—but you're kinda too young for it since it's about murders, possessions, otherworldly beings, drugs, human vice… But Ghostwriter has some good mysteries, so you can watch that instead. A ghost who really likes words helps a group of hip urban kids solve them. If you want to be educated in science, watch some Bill Nye the Science Guy. Saved by the Bell is culturally important, and I think its sequel show is playing now. But I never liked it. And high school was nothing like it for me. And you should definitely see a couple episodes of Seinfeld."

"Wesley, enough already! Everyone's really impressed. But you can stop now."

"Okay, okay," he huffed. "I think my recollection train has derailed, anyway. But if you want to watch reruns from the 80s when there's nothing else on, you can do that, too. Some of them stayed on for quite a while. Let's see if I could name a few…"

"Please! Don't. Just… let me check them out for myself. I can watch TV all day. I mean, I'd rather be playing video games, but television is a close second."

"Yeah. Okay. You know… I just think there's something almost profound about TV shows, or movies, or games. It's great how people can come together and form a working family. And then they all go their separate ways when it's over. But they leave something eternal behind, and their growth continues with other projects."

"You're really overblowing stuff, man."

"Heh, maybe. I dunno. I'm, uh, my brain's fried now. Welp. I'm going to go." Wes patted Jace on the head. "But I'll be home, er, back for lunch and dinner. Come up with some questions, or, um, observations. I can talk about episodes all day. Have fun with your underwear remote. And don't mute the commercials! Not until you've seen them at least once. They're culturally important, too. Call me if your glitch screws you up and maybe I can figure something else out. And don't watch anything I wouldn't!"

Jace rolled his eyes, and felt relief once Wes had left. He fell back into bed and got ready to go back to sleep, but instead eyed the TV guide to see what was on. His uncle had left five suggestions alone for the early time slot alone, and though he was a little ashamed to admit it, a few of the choices did pique his interest.

• •

There was the world of children, and then there was the world of adults. While Wes had long tried to maintain some degree of blurred lines between the two, today he was again venturing purely into the often-mundane land of things typically only those over thirty had to get involved with. To help finalize his plans, he had to drive to a strip mall on the outskirts of the city, a block of small businesses with only desert beyond them. He parked in front of a unit that sat between two still looking for owners.

"Eddie L. Meeks, Financial Advisor," Wes said out loud as he looked up at the sign and dangled his arms over his open car door. "I'm sure the name fits."

Past the squeaky, dirty glass door with a pair of bells dangling down from its top, Wes entered into perhaps the tackiest room he had ever seen. The carpet was mustard yellow, the walls were covered in wood paneling and photographs of Elvis, Frank Sinatra, and other singers from the 50s and 60s, and the lone desk in the center of the small office looked like a cheap version of what Tony Montana snorted cocaine on in Scarface, complete with its industrial blocky legs and mirrored surface.

Eddie had no receptionist, and he was currently alone as he conducted business on his phone. Two empty red vinyl chairs from the age of disco stared up at him, with much of the short and stocky man's face hidden behind a relic of an IBM computer monitor. As he jabbered, he frequently tapped cigarette ash into the marble tray under his brass and green banker lamp. Once Wes got in a little closer, he could see the brown and orange-tinted glasses on his middle-aged face, as well as his comb-over.

He stuck an index finger in the air to indicate that he was aware of Wes, and continued with his call, "David, would I lie to you? Would I? All the years we've known each other. I'm telling you, right now's the time to invest in Apple. I know what you're going to say—that the company hasn't been the same since they kicked Steve Jobs out, that their days are numbered, yada yada. But the little organizer they made, the Newton? They're getting their creative edge back. They're telling the world that they can still innovate without him. The next model's really going to take off. Believe me.

"What's that? Uh, no, I don't know if the next one will play music or not. Why would you need something like that? You got a Walkman, don't you? What? Oh, man, that digital music won't take off. You heard that crap? People want quality. Trust me. CDs are here to stay. And so is vinyl, for the true aficionados.

"All right. Think about it. Always a smart move. Whazzat? No, no, you want to keep your investment in pork futures. Well, sure it's 'boring as hell,'" he air-quoted with his one free hand, "but you always want some stability in your portfolio. All right, Dave. Say hi to the wife and kids for me. Of course I'll send you some pears on Christmas, just like I always have. Why are you so concerned about that? It's half a year away. Eh, yeah, you're a funny guy, Davey. All right. Got a possible new client here. Yes. Take it easy."

"Hi," Wes initiated things and removed his sunglasses. "I want to get into the stock market. But I don't really want to spend time navigating it and figuring it out."

"Well. That's, hm, that's great. Got no experience, huh? That's fine. I got some good suggestions on what to invest in. That's what I excel at, 'street' knowledge, you know? I actually go out there, and I talk to people, and I listen to the trends. I'm not some broker on Wall Street who spends all day in their apartment staring at graphs, I tell ya. Of course, maybe I'm just a dinosaur now. They got these fast computers—robots, doing a million trades a second now or some nonsense. Takin' the human element right out of it. But the market's organic. It relies on hunches. People got that, not machines."

Rarely on the receiving end of a lecture, Wes quickly interjected when Eddie took a moment to refuel his lungs, "Name's Nick Deckard. I'm here to make us both happy."

"Ah. That's a good way to start things. Ya got confidence, kid. So, how much you thinking about putting in? If you want to roll some big dice, I'd look into Ford. Good old American power. I see good things coming to American cars in the next few years. You like cars, Nick? The roar of a V8?"

"Yeah, not in this decade," he replied with a smile. "But I got a list in mind. Of companies I'd like to dip in and out of every week. Just a little in each, though—diverse, but shallow. Got some good feelings about them, but… don't want to risk too much."

"All right, all right. You got that on you, by any chance?"

"I came prepared, Eddie." Wes took out a paper folder from his trusty case. "Take a look inside, tell me what you think. But don't expect to change my mind."

"Huh? You sound awful sure of yourself. Eh, let's see here…" Eddie bit into his cigarette and skimmed through the stapled papers that were printed in the future. "This looks like it's mostly toy and media companies… Both can be really unpredictable. You know something I don't? You some Yale grad or something?"

"No, sir. I just, uh, I have a formula. All original. And some hunches. You said you respect gut feelings, right? The ones I've had all my life have never let me down."

Eddie dropped the folder onto the desk and flicked his used cig into the tray. "I don't know a thing about you, kid. We haven't talked about where you're from or what you're trying to gain. You're not talking about insider trading here now, are you? Do you even know what that is? Because I'm not going to any prisons for you. Doesn't matter how nice the tennis courts are. People think that just because I run things all the way on the edge of town and grew up in Vegas, that I'm all up for some shady business."

"First of all, Mr. Meeks, I'm thirty-five. Not really a kid," Wes said flatly.

"You're kiddin'. You don't look a day over twenty. Geez, you one of those health guru types or something?"

"Are you normally this suspicious of all your new clients?"

"When they barge in here with a folder full of their own prospects from God knows what sources, yeah, I kind of have to be. I've severed ties with a few guys that I'm almost positive were trying to make a patsy out of me, think they could do whatever they wanted and have me take the fall, just because I have the visage of a scoundrel."

"Aw, you don't need to call yourself that. You look like a hard-working honest American trying to make a buck in a world that looks down on your… ah, our type."

"Okay, okay. Now you're just trying to butter me up. Come over here and sit down. Tell me about yourself. Let's get to be friends, and then we'll talk about your list here. You smoke? I got four different brands in the file cabinets under my desk."

"Never," Wes declined and took a seat.

"Ah, well, that's an option, too. So, where do you call home, Mr. Deckard?"

"Right here. Born in Royal Valley, in 19… uh, 60."

"So, the same year they closed the big military base here. One of your parents an officer? Seems like every other native your age grew up an army brat."

"Um, no. I was free from all of that." Realizing that he might need his knowledge of local history to impress Eddie, Wes took a moment to dive into his databanks before adding, "Heck, I remember passing by the base every day on the school bus home. They took so long to tear it down that it practically rotted away by itself."

"So I've heard. Then they put an amusement park on the grounds of all things."

"Heh, yeah. Crazy, right? Think there's some unexploded ordnance under the roller coasters? Shoot, they're opening this weekend, too. Maybe I should've invested."

"Its parent company isn't public. Believe me, I looked into it. I think it's opening at the right time, though. It'll probably make a lot of dough."

"On that… I think we can agree."

"Anyway, you said your hunches have never let you down. So, you got any great accomplishments you're proud of? Maybe that came from a good gut feeling?"

Wes, always eager to start spouting off his favorite moments, quickly responded, "Back when I was a kid, I won a shopping spree at Toy—er…" He paused, and then continued by picking the first store to come to mind that was open in 1970. "At Sears. Yeah. I picked out a bunch of… appliances for the house. Washers, dryers…"

"Wait, really? When you were just a sprout, you did that for your family? That shows some real maturity, making investments like that, when you could've just grabbed a bunch of frivolous stuff a kid would be interested in. Never heard of a Sears shopping spree, though… Was that the one in the mall? Heck, let's just move on."

"Any… other accomplishments you want to hear about?"

"That's all right, I think the one you told me about kinda says enough about you. I just have one last question. Where do you see yourself in five years?"

"Uh, well, I haven't really…"

Eddie laughed, stood from his chair, and extended a hand. "I'm kidding! This isn't some job interview. I can tell you're a standup guy, you're serious about this, you want to make money as much as I do. I just need you to sign some papers."

"Oh. Good, good…" Wes breathed a sigh of relief and shook Eddie's pudgy fingers, noticing a class ring from 1963 as he did so. "I hate job interviews."

"Heheh. If you make enough money off all these hunches, you won't need one."

"That's the point. Hey, there's a movie coming out this year, called Casino. It's… um, it looks like Goodfellas in Vegas. Might be right up your alley."

"That some of that 'insider' knowledge of yours?" Eddie joked.

Unconcerned with breaking or getting around any laws with his unique wisdom, Wes started signing the papers eagerly. After all, should attention be attracted, he could grab Jace and return to the present. Of course… doing so might require some force.

• •

Once all of the stock-brokering was done for the day, which left Wes feeling like he needed a long shower to wash off some invisible grime, he slipped his shades back on, got in his car, and called Jace's new, or rather, old phone as he drove.

After ringing five times, he finally picked up and squeaked, "H-hello?"

"Jace, buddy! I was worried you forgot how to use a cell phone."

"The stupid thing was right by the bed, but I couldn't figure out how to answer it. And the ringing was so loud that it scared the crap out of me."

"Gross. Clean up the place before I get back."

Jace audibly groaned.

"I'm just calling to check in, try out the phones. You still doing your homework over there? What's that playing in the background?"

"This one show you didn't talk about, Bobby's World. It's a cartoon with this little kid with a really annoying voice and I kind of hate him…"

"Yeah, you don't have to watch that one if you don't want to. How's the remote working out for you? Stuck watching Jerry again?"

"It's actually… working. So far, I mean."

"Is it hard to admit I did something right for a change? Anyway, just a reminder that I'll be back for lunch. Going to take a joy ride around town."

"Whatever. I'm not hungry yet. Been eating a lot of snacks."

"You're turning into me more and more by the second, pal!"

"Uh-huh. Sure…" Jace said and hung up.

Wes pulled up to a convenience store to pick up a few final items that he had forgotten to acquire earlier, and on the way out, grabbed a newspaper from one of the stands outside. Somewhere within its pages was the next phase of his plan.

He glanced at the headline, for another story concerning the imminent opening of King Arcade, and flipped through to the back pages, the classifieds.

And with one of the pens from the twelve-pack he had just bought, he began circling prospective apartments for rent. Most any of them would do, just so long as he didn't settle on the same ramshackle domicile in the city's worst neighborhood.

He had spent enough long, cold nights there during his previous visit. This time, he had brought an iPad full of stock history, and it would keep him quite warm.

• •

On a rainy Friday afternoon, an anxiety-ridden Jace found himself in the mall's arcade, its neon lights and noise from dozens of cabinets doing a number on his already exhausted senses. His reaction speed diminished, he glanced at Wes, who was gleefully firing his pink weapon at a row of targets. They were playing an early arcade light gun game, Point Blank, and in his current state, Jace was letting down his trusty blue pistol.

"What's the matter, bee sting?" Wes, victorious, asked as the game ended.

Jace huffed. "Too tired for stupid nicknames. Where are they getting these?"

"I got tired of calling you pal and buddy over and over. So I'm experimenting. I thought you'd be more excited to get out of the room and spend some game time here."

"I'm overloaded. I watched, like, thirty-two hours of shows over two days…"

"Are they bouncing about in your mind? That's the conditioning taking hold!"

"They all began to blur together after a while…"

"That's why we need to inject some gaming into your psyche, get it thinking about something else. I'm gonna go get some more quarters. Here," he gave him his last one, "play a round by yourself while I do that and scout out another game to try out."

As Wes left, Jace stared at the quarter in his palm, wishing he could find some other use for it. But out of his choices of either going back to the game or wasting time in the futile struggle of finding something else to do, he picked the easier option.

After firing several shots of infrared light at the screen, he noticed out of the corner of his eye a group of three boys approaching him, all around his age, and like his former friends, they were of course taller than him. He tried to keep his focus on the shooting gallery in hopes that they wouldn't engage, but it didn't work.

"Hey," one of them said and looked at the screen. "Not bad."

"Yeah, I suck at that game," another added. "Hey kid, you got a gun in real life?"

"Nice hair," the smallest of the three commented in an airy voice.

"You got a problem?" Jace suddenly snapped and turned to them after getting a game over, which he blamed on the distraction.

"Ease up, man, we were just watching," the tallest one said with a friendly laugh.

Jace took a moment to look at their faces and saw that there was no hostility in them. He had to remind himself that they didn't know anything about him.

"Sorry," he breathed out. "My uncle made me watch TV for two days straight…"

"Whoa, your uncle makes you watch television?" the middle one with glasses and braces asked. "Mine just has me do farm work when I visit. What shows do you like?"

Dozens of shows ran through his head in a scrambled frenzy, and yet he couldn't pick one out of the mess, so he simply replied, "Um… A little bit of everything."

"Do you want to join us for The Simpsons game?" the smaller one with the faint voice and only an inch on Jace asked. "We're looking for a fourth player…"

"Maybe he's only good at shooting games," the tallest, red-haired boy suggested.

"I'm good at all games," Jace said defensively. "But… I'm waiting for my uncle."

"So where is this cool uncle of yours?" Braces Boy asked.

"Um…" Jace looked around, and soon spotted him excitedly playing a fighter jet game, having been distracted by bright lights, sounds, and nostalgia once again—and it looked like he was making a fool of himself. Embarrassed, he told them, "I don't think he's… coming back right now. I'd play," he tried to be polite, "but I'm out of quarters."

"No problem, dude, we'll spot you," the tallest said and prodded the short one's shoulder, who produced a bag full of coins. "Stu here just had a birthday."

"We don't… get to do four players that much. It's worth it," he explained.

Seeing that there was no way out now aside from running out of the arcade like a coward, Jace relented and nodded his head a little nervously. "All right…"

Konami's The Simpsons arcade game was a classic, to the point where Jace had even seen a working cabinet outside of King Arcade—in a gas station somewhere, as a child. He had watched its demo loop a few times, but never played it before.

He wasn't all that happy to get stuck with Lisa, instead of Bart or Homer or even perhaps Marge, and didn't like the fact that her weapon was a jump rope. Even so, after several minutes, he did feel himself loosen up a bit and have some fun with the others as they beat up countless cartoon characters. The three were experienced. They knew the multiplayer combo attacks well and were able to set them up at every opportunity.

It took half of the quarters in the bag, but after several continue screens and forty minutes of fingers mashing against plastic buttons, the four managed to see the rare, honorary completion screen of an arcade game. Jace felt a sense of accomplishment, yet still didn't know why Mr. Smithers was leading a jewelry heist at the start of the "story."

"Wow. That's only the second time I beat it," Braces Boy said. "Now what?"

"Air hockey!" Stu answered. "Let's have a tournament!"

"You can't really have a tournament with four people, dude," the tall one, Gavin, replied. "But we could find some other kids who would join in. Maybe your cool uncle could even be one of the players!" He suggested as he looked at Jace, and then eyed Wes over in a driver's seat with a wheel and intensely swerving his car in a racing game.

"Yeah. I don't mind playing with an old dude if he's pretty good at games."

"Why do you think my uncle is so cool?" Jace genuinely wondered. "Because he's not. Maybe he used to be, but not anymore. He's actually kind of a jerk that always tries to get his way. I mean, he buys me stuff and we watch movies together, but that doesn't really make up for him being a jerk all the time and making jokes about me."

"Sounds like you got some issues, man," Braces, aka Mikey, said with a laugh. "Ah, someone else is using the air hockey table anyway. What other four-player games are around? Um, there's Gauntlet. Blue Wizard needs food!" He laughed a second time.

"Gauntlet is old as dinosaur poop. How about X-Men? That's four players."

"Is that another beat-em-up?" Jace asked.

"Yeah, it's really awesome, and you won't have to be Lisa again."

"Is there anything else? I mean, it was kind of fun I guess, but I don't really like that feeling where… I'm doing the same thing over and over again."

"Man, you're really a tightwad," Stu sighed. "No offense! I mean, there's nothing wrong with being one. But you just gotta learn how to have fun."

Jace grumbled, but admittedly did want to play another game because it reminded him so much of his sleepover late night console sessions with his former friends.

So, he quickly made a suggestion before another of the boys could insult him, "What about Hungry Hungry Hippos? That's four players."

"Hey, yeah," Mikey replied. "I always forget this place has that. It's kind of for little kids, but… uh, I still find it fun. And it's cheap."

"I'm up for it," Stu agreed. "It's a quick burst of chaos and luck."

Vaguely aware of the game's minor cultural presence but having never played it either, Jace followed the others to the dome that enclosed four colorful hippopotami. After a group of girls—all around six years old or so—were finished with their game and ran off to find another, the temporary friends gathered around to start theirs.

Despite his positioning efforts, Jace got the pink hippo. Stuck with the worst character again, his hopes for a good round dimmed before the game even began.

After the coins were dropped in and a torrent of white plastic balls was released, he watched for a few seconds as the other three started bashing away at the one control mechanism available: a button matching the color of the player's famished amphibious ungulate. Used to games that needed a controller's dozen-plus buttons and pads, Jace took a second to devise a strategy as he made his hippo chomp at its food several times.

Whereas the others made their animals bite as much as possible and hope for the best, he realized that with his sharp eyes, he should be able to open his hippo's mouth at just the right time to gobble a pellet, instead of doing it the inefficient, hope-for-the-best way and having the pellets bounce off the mouth while it was closed. Easy.

Or, it should've been. Aside from having the lamest color, his button also kept randomly sticking for a millisecond before he could press it again. As an unpredictable problem, it was hard to work around. Growing frustrated as the short game wore on, Jace soon lost all patience and started pounding away as pellets bounced off the snout.

"Son of a bitch!" he suddenly burst out. "Stupid pink hippo, eat something!"

The other three looked at him, but the game was over before they could respond. Jace had ended up in third place, beating only Stu—who didn't seem upset at all, as he had rather enjoyed and laughed at simply hitting his button as many times as possible.

"Dude…" Gavin said and looked disappointingly at Jace. "You really gotta calm down and try to have some fun. Seriously, man, it's just a game…"

"But my button wasn't working right! I hate losing because of some stupid—"

"Rematch?" Stu interjected. "He can get the blue hippo this time."

"I… don't think so," Mikey sighed. "I don't want to hear any more complaining today. Sorry, kid, but that's kind of all you do. Even when we were kicking butt in The Simpsons, you always found something to moan about. It's bringing me down."

"Yeah, for real," Gavin added. "Maybe he's just having a bad day and we could try again some other time. My mom's probably looking for me anyway…"

"Wait," Jace asked them. "I can chill out. I can… talk about cool things while we game. Yeah. Let's just do a few more. How about that three player Rampage one, with the giant monsters? I mean, one of you will have to watch, but…"

"That sounds cool," Stu agreed.

"No, Stu," Gavin replied. "Now he's just sounding desperate."

Realizing in full that he was pushing away three kids that just so happened to want to actually do something with him, Jace began trying too hard and added, "Come on, guys. Let's be like the Blue Barracudas and win some games as a team."

Gavin raised an eyebrow and stared at Jace. "… What?"

"Look, I'm cool. Real chill. I can even teach you a few things. I can explain stuff like Clarissa. And I'm tough, like Artie from Pete and Pete. Don't be dumb like Beavis and Butthead. I'm like that kid in The Wizard, who came to California to win at video games. You don't even know all the games I've already mastered. If I could just tell you without breaking the time-spa… uh, without breaking your… faces. Uh… I'm a winner."

The boys looked at each other for a few seconds before bursting out in laughter.

"You're crazy, man," Gavin said.

"Y-yeah. Wild and crazy. That's me."

"You just dropped a whole bunch of references to things and ended up making no sense," Mikey added. "I think maybe you just watched way too much TV."

"Yeah, take a few days to cool down, and if you're still here, maybe we'll play again. Later, kid," Gavin said before leaving with the rest of the quarters.

Stu gave him a shrug before heading off with the others. Jace felt red in in his cheeks and like a total idiot. Too embarrassed to think straight, he found his uncle and dragged him away from Mortal Kombat—invoking some childish whining of his own.

"The heck's your problem, Jace?" Wes groaned and took a sip from his water bottle as the two sat in the corner of the food court. "I was about to beat story mode."

"I had to get out of there," Jace said, slumped into his seat. "I made a real jerk of myself. Hurrrgh…" He crossed his arms. "These kids came over and just wanted to play arcade games with me, and I all I did was complain about everything…"

"Oh?" Wes seemed surprised. "At least you know what the problem was. Still… just complaining doesn't seem reason enough to run away. They weren't mean, right?"

"No. I… got desperate so I blurted out a ton of random junk about TV shows."

"Buh-ha!" Wes laughed. "I can picture the scene. 'Look at me, I'm a time traveler, watch me try to be hip and trendy.' That's not gonna work, Scooby snack."

"I was stuck inside with the TV for two days, it's literally all I can think about!"

"All right, all right. I guess I'm partially to blame then. But you did have some fun, right? I mean before your meltdown. Did you four play a lot of games?"

"One of the kids had a bag full of quarters. We only used about half of them."

"Ugh, Jace… all of that money…" Wes looked disappointed.

"Why do you care how much… Wait, how did you know there were four of us?"

"Just a guess…" Wes then let out a big sigh. "Screw it. Yeah, I paid them off."

"What the crap, man? I can't believe you just admitted that!"

"What's not to believe? Hey, I'm trying not to lie to you, and you probably would've found out eventually anyway, and then you'd just be angrier."

"I probably would've stopped caring! Why do you keep messing with me?"

"You were never going to make an effort to meet other kids. I was trying to help, because, listen, you're too young to be this angry and pushing people away like you are."

"Oh yeah, you really helped. Now every time someone tries to hang out with me, here and in the present, I'll think you gave them a bag of money."

"It was worth a shot. But I won't do it again. Not like I have infinite cash."

Seeing a chance to change the subject, Jace asked, "How… much money do you have? It feels like you've spent a lot already."

"Oh, don't worry about adult issues like that. Look at the bright side: at least you played all those games without your glitch popping up and making things even worse."

"I guess…" Jace dropped his head into his crossed arms on the table. "Maybe because they were all multiplayer games with other people…"

"It canceled any of that out? Yeah, I see what you're saying. Maybe you're right."

"Hey, all of this talk about arcades and glitches… I saw an episode of this one game show, Nick Arcade, where kids competed by playing arcade games."

"Yeah, I know the one. I think it only lasted a single season."

"Most of the show is okay, you know, when the kids go up and play these games and see who gets a high score. The trivia part is boring, though. But then at the end, the winning kid gets to compete inside an arcade game? And I dunno if it was just a bad episode or what, but that didn't work at all. Like, the poor teenager just looked confused and kept waving his arms about and couldn't make it past the first level."

Wes chuckled. "I always thought that would be freakin' awesome to do. I even signed up for the show. When I was older and watched reruns, I realized how much it didn't work. It was too ambitious. I imagine the contestants against a backdrop, seeing themselves on a screen, desperate to make their arms and legs interact with objects."

"Now if you want to go inside a game, you can just put on a VR visor."

"Yeah… Yeah, I guess so. Shows and games from this decade often tried to innovate with something new and outrageous, but we didn't really have the hardware to back it up. Usually the 'cutting edge' tech or graphics just ended up looking goofy."

Jace looked back at the nearby venue he had just fled and added, "Why are there still a few arcades around in 2020, anyway? Everyone already either has a game console or just plays something for free on their phone. Aren't they actually making more?"

"It's a wonder to me, too, but I guess they're coming back for social outings. It's nice that they're still around for us, long after their prime in the 80s. Too bad," he gazed over at the busy arcade with another nostalgic smile, "that this one closes in eight years."

"You know what I realized I really hate?" Jace kept up a discussion. "Seeing the same commercials over, and over, and over, and remembering how each one goes, and that horrible feeling you get when one you hate starts playing again."

"I told you that you could've muted them after seeing them once. Heck, you didn't have to listen to any of them. That was just my suggestion."

"I guess. But I never did that for… some reason. Also, I'm not even used to seeing commercials that much because I don't watch a lot of TV. I stream most of the shows I watch. But, geez, how did you put up with all that crap?"

Wes shrugged. "Just did."

"Why are they all in a competition to see who can be the loudest? What is the obsession with flipping around girls' dolls so you see the hair whip around, and then the camera zooms in on the face? Why does the kid always shout 'I win!' when they, you know, win at some dumb game like Don't Wake Daddy? Why are there so many boys trying to look in their sisters' electronic diaries and get upset when it has a password? And don't even get me started on those local commercials with potato quality video!"

"Potato quality, heh…" Wes snickered. "Classic…"

"And I thought Skechers commercials in our time were annoying. Sheesh…"

"Shoes!" Wes came to a sudden realization and smacked the table. "You need a good pair of shoes. Style and comfy feet—those will give you confidence."

"I thought the shoes I have now are fine? Why didn't we get a pair at Target?"

"Because I didn't think you needed any back then. But now I'm starting to get anxious to correct you. Also, the mall has a better selection anyway."

"Correct me? What am I, broken?"

"Let's just focus on completing your contemporary fashion set with the last piece of lingering future-wear. I think a nice pair of gray high tops would look good on you."

"Do I really need some expensive shoes if I'm only gonna wear them for a day?"

"They're a status symbol! Uh, bring them with you, show them off in the present! Also, I'm not showering you with gifts thoughtlessly. I always give them a lot of thought."

Next stop: Foot Locker. Jace's mode of transport: dragged, as was customary.

Quite a few families had nothing better to do on a rainy Friday than to go shoe shopping, so the store was full of parents and their kids, some bored, others enjoying trying on often colorful footwear. The smell of rubber and leather permeated the air, and unlike most stores filled with children, those that sold shoes always seemed to be very quiet by comparison. Maybe there was an unspoken reverence among patrons in the ritual of baring feet and deciding what to walk around in for the next year or so.

"Go find a pair," Wes said at the entrance. "Remember to try them on. Duh. I'll just be looking around. I always wanted a nice pair of boots when I was a kid…"

Once Wes set off, Jace gave the store a quick look to find an aisle with kid shoes. As much as he disliked clothes shopping, he felt neutral about buying shoes. There was at least something nice about walking out of a store in a fresh pair with new padding.

After passing by some teen boys checking out the most expensive pair in the store and complaining that they couldn't afford them, Jace took a spot on one of the stools with an angled attached mirror and scooted around to look at the inventory.

Following a full rotation, he noticed that a girl about his age had walked into the aisle from the back of the store. He turned as to not appear to be staring but kept an eye on her in his peripheral. She shuffled around some listlessly, without the least bit of excitement grabbed a box of very plain sneakers, had a seat on the aisle's other stool about twelve feet away, and took out the shoes and clopped their soles together.

It was hard to get a good look at her face, as a portion of her long, light brown and unkempt hair covered the side closest to Jace. She had to make minor adjustments every few seconds to keep the adult-sized headphones on her ears. The wire led down to a CD player in the pocket of her also oversized, drab olive-green button shirt, its sleeves covering her hands. Her music was just loud enough to be audible.

After several seconds, Jace realized how bored she must've been, as she seemed to have little interest in actually trying on the shoes. He went back to looking for his own pair. There was a nice, not-too-big set of gray and black ones that got his attention, so he yanked them out and gave their insides a hearty sniff for that new shoe smell.

Once he got his nose out of the box, he saw her looking at him indifferently. Her right eye was free from the hair, and her front few teeth showed just a bit. Jace had to admit that she was actually kind of cute—in a brooding, sulky sort of way. She scratched at her jeans, pulled at her long undershirt, sniffled a little, and turned away again.

She began trying on her shoes just as Jace did, eliciting further quick glances back and forth with one another. Every time he got a glimpse of her face, he felt a sense of familiarity, like he vaguely remembered seeing her somewhere before. Maybe a former classmate of his, one of those kids that sat in the back and never talked to anyone? Her need for a big, baggy, and ratty old security shirt also seemed awfully similar to his own.

After Jace got the shoes on, his old pair now in the box, he stood and took a few steps. They were nice, comfortable, and roomy, though he felt that the tongue was needlessly large. He tied them up tightly and walked back and forth in a small space.

Surprised that he actually liked them as much as he did and willing to accept another gift, he smiled a little and turned around. The smile disappeared as soon as he noticed the girl looking up at him, who then looked down at her own pair of simple, cheap black shoes. He didn't know if she was just depressed about not being able to get something nicer, or if she had picked them herself and was always like that regardless.

She mumbled something, stood, looked at herself in the nearby full-sized mirror, and without taking a single test step, sat back down and began taking them off.

"Shoes like that are overpriced…" she stated matter-of-factly, perhaps in her own way of justifying her choice. "Kids only get them to try and make friends…"

"Uh… Well, actually… they're…" Jace wasn't sure how to respond.

Her mother rounded the corner before things got too awkward. She had a wide grin, a pearl necklace, a fancy watch, and a black pantsuit. She looked like a business lady, a real go-getter—especially of shoes; she had already acquired three boxes.

"There you are, hon," she said to her daughter. "Did you find a good pair?"

"Sure," the girl replied and held up the box so her mother could see.

"Tch, you always get the same kind. Lucy, you gotta be a little adventurous."

Jace froze in place, afraid of further interaction, as one of his grandparents—who unlike Wes' mother he had rarely ever met—took away the kid version of his own mom.

Once she was at a safe distance, he watched as she waited in the checkout line, cradling her new shoes. Her mom then made her hold all four boxes for a solid minute as she dug around in her purse. They wobbled in her arms as she tried to balance them.

"Hey," Wes said from behind, sending a shock down his back. "Find anything?"

"I, uh…" Jace stammered as his nerves calmed a little. "Y-yeah…"

"Lemme see." He looked down at the box of shoes. "Not bad. They fit okay?" Wes then looked directly ahead and suddenly tightened his grip. "Whoa whoa whoa! Jace! Holy crap!" He pointed ahead. "Dude, do you know who that little lady over there is?"

"It's my mom… I already know. She sat right across from me…"

"You didn't talk to her, right? Oh, man, tell me you didn't!"

"No! I mean, I didn't know it was her, but we didn't really talk or anything."

"Okay," Wes breathed. "Good. If we change anything that involves her, your very existence might be in trouble. Let's wait until she leaves to buy your new kicks."

"I thought she looked familiar, but… I wasn't expecting her to be so…"

"Dreary? Hair over her eyes, bad posture, headphones drowning out a world she's already fed up with… She's kinda like you, huh? And proof that anyone can improve."

"Don't you think we should be more careful? Now we've run into both you and my mom. I thought you knew where both her and Wessy would be."

"Hey, I've only been through this day twice. I still have a lot of gaps where I'm not sure where we'd be. Plus, I only ever saw Lucy every other weekend and sometimes at school. She lived a whole separate life from my own most of the time."

"Oh, try to get them all in one bag, please," Lucy's mom asked the clerk. "We have enough garbage around the house already."

The overworked employee solved the puzzle by bringing out the largest plastic bag available and stacking three of the boxes inside, and forcing in the one with Lucy's shoes sideways, where it was crushed a little, causing a shoe to pop out some. The guy behind the register asked again if she was sure she wanted just a single bag, but she insisted. After paying, the two left the store, and Wes paid for Jace's sixty-buck pair.

They seemed to be heading for the same exit, so Lucy's brother and son kept their distance as they followed from behind, trying to remain casual and inconspicuous.

As Lucy and her mother were leaving the mall and squeezed through the non-automatic glass door, Wes and Jace both watched one of the girl's new shoes slip out from the box, slide off the bag, and land on the tiled floor. Neither of them noticed, and none of the other nearby mall-goers had seen what happened, either.

After hopes diminished that someone else would see the rogue sneaker, pick it up, and chase after the two, Wes ran up and grabbed it. Jace joined him at the door and saw Lucy and her mom get into their car as his uncle bit his lip.

"Guess she won't be seeing that shoe again," Jace commented, and looked up at antsy Wes. "You're not thinking of going up and returning that, right? Right? Uncle Wes, you just said my existence is on the line! Mom will get more shoes in her life."

"Poor Luce…" he sighed. "She always seemed so downtrodden at this age. I wouldn't have even noticed if one day was worse than the last for her."

"But this already happened. I'm sure she recovered and went on to do great things, like having me. Let's just… put the shoe down and go back to the hotel."

Wes looked at him, then at the shoe in his hands, and quickly stated most daringly, "Nope! We're gonna get this back to her. Lucy's not having a bad weekend on my watch. Don't worry—I'll just drop it on her porch. C'mon, kiddo."

Clutching the quest object in one hand, he yanked Jace out into the parking lot, where the rare summer rain had stopped and puddles were evaporating in the afternoon heat. Jace didn't get a chance to speak again until their car's tires were screeching on the wet asphalt, and Wes was already firmly locked into his latest adventure.

"She probably doesn't even like these stupid shoes," Jace groaned and looked at the black sneaker in his lap, having become the one responsible for its safety.

"A shoe isn't gonna make you disappear," Wes promised. "And this'll be easy!"