mg_02 cr0wl mg (chapter 1 can be read here...) chapter 2 old graham woke on the other side of his consciousness five years ahead in his future. he was fourteen now. he found himself sitting at a plastic desk in a literature class at a private high school in upstate new york. all of the seats surrounding him were filled by ethnically diverse students of his age. earphones ran like iv lines. texts typed secretly. however, the desk to his right was the only one unoccupied, although it had been simply vacated for there was evidence of habitation; a backpack, a journal, and oddly, a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels. old graham inspected his hands and arms. he seemed bigger, as if he had expanded into his frame with lengthened bones. even his face felt different. some kind of fuzz erupted from his chin. his cheeks seemed narrow. the teacher was writing on the blackboard. old graham squinted his eyes. the teacher, a tall thin man, known behind his back as "scarecrow" wrote the letter, "m" followed by the letter "g." he wore bowties he tied himself and ate crackers with butter he spread upon them one by one. the teacher dropped the tiny piece of milk white chalk into the wooden tray and turned around. it made a popping snap. "please get out your books and turn to the final page." he held up his own copy and threw a glance out the window to where a he could see a stray dog taking a crap in the lawn. old graham, finding it peculiar that the letters m and g were the first letters of his name and his best friend's, looked about his desktop for a copy. seeing nothing he opened the hinged top and found it in the compartment along with a strange-looking, decorated cigar box. the book's cover had the letters but also a watercolor painting of a boy and a girl walking with a tiger. old graham felt a twinge of recognition, like the smell of turkey on thanksgiving day. a surge of understanding came upon him, butterflies to the gardens of his soul, pollinating, carrying on the endless circles, spinning, wrapping, unfolding. this is the story of our lives at hawksworth, he thought. but what am i doing here? in this school? he turned to the final page as the teacher had instructed. it was the arrival of the ship of fireflies carrying him, injured and passed out. new molly left to get help. the end? old graham thought. but here i am, right? this is me, isn't it? he wasn't sure. suddenly the door of the classroom opened, its glass panes rattling slightly. a girl entered with wavy, brown hair, streaked with the blonde of summer. she was tall and stepped quickly, gazing down. she moved to her seat, the empty one across from old graham. he looked over at her and she at him and in that brief exchange, there was a collision. a vine intertwining, an unspoken communication, a complete awareness of the parallel existence they shared. "alright, class," the teacher began. "old graham has passed out and new molly having just done all she could to help him, has decided to search for the tiger king." the new girl beside old graham jutted her right hand in the air as if she had a pressing question to ask. "yes, miss." the teacher said, pointing to her to give her the floor. "why didn't they know the tiger king was in the firefly ship?" 100918 ... crowli mr. swagger’s bony, vein ridden hand agitatedly crept to his neck, and he absently fingered his lopsided burgundy bowtie as he regarded her frostily. he said nothing but his expression was purposefully malevolent as he narrowed his eyes, raised his eyebrows and thinned his lips simultaneously while he peered at her over his horn-rimmed glasses. the back of his neck prickled with perspiration, causing it to stick to his collar which suddenly felt too tight. john swagger was agitated. he had chosen this particularly tricky book with the express target of challenging this group of well-read honors students, and he had for the most part succeeded. he was getting old. he recognized this truth, however lately he had begun to feel as though his students were gaining on him in the intelligence department, and his goal was to change that. he had originally wanted to simply help them prepare for the real world, yet somehow his good intent was being replaced with a darkened, self serving meaning. ‘mg’ was a little on the complex side; thought provoking for young minds, and he had expected intelligent questions, even some debates to arise within the class discussions. however this girl, ironically the lone molly of gateway academy, who for the first six weeks of school did not utter a peep in his class, had seemed to cross a bridge with the commencement of this assignment, allowing her break free of her self-conscious shyness. she asked such well conceived questions, that he often shook his head as he marveled at her perception. but she was making him look and feel like an idiot. he was glad to have reached the end of the book, because today’s question was no different from the others. ‘it’s almost like she wrote the story...she behaves as though she lived the events,’ he thought to himself, as he considered her words. he was perplexed by her yet again, but he was determined not to lose control like he had the other day. as he walked over to the window, his cowboy boots clicked in an annoying off-key pattern, like a metal tack or nail had lodged itself into his heel. the class watched him expectantly as they silently waited for his response with authentic anticipation. the entertainment they were seeking was not literary-based however. they were longing for a repeat performance of what had gone down two days earlier, when molly had provoked him far enough that he’d thrown an eraser across the room, accidentally upsetting the giant plastic co-go's coffee mug on his desk filled with fifty of his signature medium point blue gel pens. swagger watched the owner-less dog in the schoolyard saunter nonchalantly onto the sidewalk and stop to rest at the base of the schools proudly flying flag, as he took a deep breath and regained his composure before turning around to face the class. he addressed them collectively, however his gaze rested squarely upon molly when he spoke. “that is an excellent question, young lady,” he said dryly. “however, instead of an in-class discussion, we’re going to change it up a bit. i’m assigning you all a three hundred point project.” smiling inwardly as he turned back to the windows, he continued amidst the predictable groans now escalating from the vicinity of the plastic desks. “i want a five hundred word alternate ending to ‘mg.’ it is due tomorrow, typed, double spaced, with a proper heading. use citations where applicable, and by all means, make it worth my while to read it if you intend to achieve an A in my class. you may start now...there are thirty minutes left in this class period.” old graham heard the class suck in a communal breath, but he ignored the entire scene as he continued in his endeavor to piece together the fragments of his confusion into a complete picture. the class had quieted, settling into writing their papers, and he heard them flipping through the pages of ‘mg’ furiously, scrambling to arrive at an original idea for an alternate ending for which the mean skinny dude might actually grant an A. at that moment graham thought,'i don't give a shit about this class,' and stealing a glance to his right, he allowed his gaze to fall upon her again. he sighed with relief as he processed that it was really her...it was his molly. she wore uggs on her feet, which he would have considered odd, since it was not even cold outside yet, however when he fleetingly looked around the room at the other girls’ feet, he quickly ascertained that they were all wearing them, and reasoned that it must be the acceptable style. her dark red-engine boot cut jeans hugged her legs and hips, and as his eyes traveled upward, he noticed that her form fitting aqua colored burton tank top was his favorite color. his eyes widened when he saw the faint scar on the side of her upper arm. he couldn’t take his eyes off of her. meanwhile, molly had not even pulled her copy of ‘mg’ out of her desk, and as she anxiously tapped her pencil on her journal she stared at the clock above the door, counting the minutes until the class would end. ‘i can’t do this for twenty four more minutes,’ she told herself, and deftly snuck a glance directly to her left under the guise of shrugging into the pink hoodie that had hung haphazardly across the back of her seat. her heart promptly did a flip flop when she saw how graham was looking at her. she smiled nervously at him before she looked away self consciously, which felt so out of the ordinary since they had known each other for nearly their entire lives. they had been best friends for years, but at that moment, the intensity of his gaze made her insides feel like unsettled jell-o. it was as if he was seeing her for the first time, and she had to admit, she liked it. barely able to contain her smile, molly glanced over at him again and caught his eye. ‘god his eyes are beautiful,’ she thought to herself, completely losing her train of thought for a brief moment before recalling her reason for getting his attention. but then she remembered, and nodding with a smug grin in the direction of mr. swagger she rolled her eyes, causing graham to snicker, blowing air out of his nose. she watched his shoulders slightly relaxed as he broke into a knowing smile. molly then carefully slid her phone out from her right hip pocket, and with it concealed carefully in her lap, her fingers skillfully flew across the keyboard as she quickly typed then punched the send button without once looking at the screen. graham felt the corresponding vibration against his leg, and promptly pulled the phone free from the confines of the front pocket of his j. crew jeans. he read the message: HE'S SUCH AN ASSHOLE...HE ONLY WISHES HE KNEW OUR SECRET...HA!!...XO 100918 ... cr0wl old graham peered at the screen of his phone. they took on a familiarity to him, like his own breathing, developing, he realized, into the highlights of his day when thoughts became type, and feeling became conversation. the words entered his mind like the airtight contents of a syringe to his bulging vein. he sat transfixed as if he was clicked into place, oiled gears meshing in a whir of madness. some part of him could go inside those words, he thought, and it was like he was crossing a bridge. seconds later, he was blinking his eyes open. his vision was burry at first but he could make out before him a face. a tiger's face. it was not the tiger king as he remembered for the mask was a simple paper mask with a child's drawing of a tiger with holes cut out for the eyes, mouth, and nose. "welcome back," the tiger king said. old graham closed his eyes at the sound of his voice. it made him think of his dead father. old graham suddenly remembered the rat bite and brought his right hand down to his leg to inspect it. there was nothing there. not even a scar. "you've been healed by love," the tiger king said, moving away from him. he said the words with a trace of resolution, as if part of himself didn't want to heal him. "where's my molly?" old graham asked, sitting up. he discovered he was naked and looked around for his clothes. a new set lay folded on a trunk at the end of the bed. he gazed about the room as he dressed. there were photos, paintings, posters, and drawings nailed to all the walls. so much art to look at, he thought. "she is waiting with the others for you to rejoin them," the tiger king said. he looked ridiculous in his mask, but he could wear it without judgement because he was coming off sincere. "are we going to the carnival?" graham asked wriggling into his new clothes. they were like long underwear he wore for skiing but made more for climbing or overall grand adventure seeking. "it depends on what door you choose," the tiger king answered, matter-of-factly. "come on, follow me." graham stuck his feet into leather shoes and bounded after him, tying his hair back in a pony tail, as he moved quickly in and out of a labyrinthian series of narrow hallways. there was a pungent odor of smoke in the air of the maze, which helped old graham keep a good gauge of where the tiger king was. he wasn't able to figure out what decorated the walls as he sped by them but in all accounts he wished he had more time for they reminded him of art museums his mother used to take him to and he wanted to study them for ideas and inspiration. finally he came to the end where new graham and the mollies were sitting on a couch. they were all wearing new clothes, similar to old graham's, attire befit for obvious engagement and the possibility of memory engraving. none of them seemed too surprised to see him, as if they had been told he was coming and was at least an hour late, if not more. but the mollys rose at the same time and gazed at him. he stared back at them and went sheeplishly downcast. he felt like he had let them down. "i'm so glad your leg is better," old molly shot forth seeing he was shy. old graham felt the bite as she said the words and he cried out without being able to stop it. even new graham came rushing up to him to help him lest he pass out again. old graham doubled over grasping onto the phantom pain at his leg and he fell to the ground shrieking. the tiger king was by his side at once and stood over top of him. his mask was once more the authentic replica of an elegant asian tiger. like a puppet master he pulled invisible strings above old graham and rose him back to his feet. he snapped his fingers in front of his grimacing face and immediately calmed him. old graham took a deep breath and looked around at the fear on everyone's face, "ciao tutti!" he called out trying to make them laugh. it worked. the tiger king waved them on and they followed him to a foyer of sorts similar to the grand entranceway of a parisian hotel. persian carpets rolled on endless roads of hardwood floors and staircases with their cherry-stained banisters gleamed in the soft glow of candlelight. he moved with a confident, relaxed gait as if he already knew what would happen, and was directing them to make choices which were best for all of them and not their individual lusts. there were three hefty, oak doors behind him when he stopped. one was painted black. one was white. the third was painted in a mosaic of all the primary colors. "there are three doors, but you can only open one," the tiger king said, yawning. he hadn't slept well since old graham had been bit and he had spilled blood and sweat with exhaustive resolve to heal him properly. he was disappointed with the recent bout of phantom pain, but then he figured it was good to maintain a certain illusion of balance. "amongst yourselves you must discuss which one to open," he said, gazing directly at new molly. "you have until winter arrives to make your choice or you can tell me in few minutes. whatevs..." he turned his back to them and ascended the carpet lined stairs disappearing into an upstairs room. 100919 ... crowli the four of them stood rooted in position and remained hesitantly silent as they watched the tiger king disappear up the gleaming cherry staircase. however, the second they heard the heavy definitive slamming of a door a few floors above them confirming that he was indeed truly gone, they sprang to life, like virtual jack-in-the-boxes wound too tightly then suddenly released. armed with the knowledge that they were, at least for the time being on their own and escaping the watchful eye of the tiger king, they talked over top of each other in an escalating excited crescendo of intonations and giggles.   at least three of them were excited. old graham, recalling briefly that he had just been in high school, was still completely confused and trying to piece together his perplexing existence as he watched his double watching him. ‘we really are each other, aren’t we?’ he thought, shaking his head wearily when new graham nodded in answer.   “aaaaah free at last,” old molly said, grinning confidently as she rolled her eyes  in the direction of the stairs that the tiger king had just ascended. old graham stared at her quizzically for a brief moment, her demeanor confusing him somewhat. ‘she seems different….’ he thought…. ‘like she’s toughened up, maybe?’   he quickly dismissed his contemplation however, because new molly suddenly brazenly walked up to him and whipped her arms around him, catching him utterly off guard. he did not want a hug from her, he reasoned, especially since the last thing he remembered from the moments before he passed out, was his anger toward her. in fact, he wasn’t just furious with her, he held her personally responsible her for the damn rat bite! bristling at her touch, he threw mental daggers at her with his eyes, and grabbing her by the elbows he stiff-armed her to keep her at what he considered to be a safe distance.   she suddenly burst into wailing sobs as her tentative hold on her emotions let go like a broken dam bursting.   graham raised a cynical eyebrow as he regarded her, but he was absolutely unprepared for the barrage of nearly hysterical babbling that followed.   “i...am...s.....s.....so glad you’re okay graham….i have never been so worried in my whole life. when you disappeared with him, i….i…..thought we'd never see you again. we’ve been here for so long with no word! he….he never even checked in with us to let us know how you were doing. i haven’t eaten a thing since you left…..graham, i thought the rat bite had killed you….i know i should never have left you guys in the dark….i...i'm really, really sorry....." her voice trailed off, but she stood firm, with her arms still outstretched, persistent in her effort to be close to him. she was acting as though she was trying to prove to herself that he was really there and alive and well.   he couldn’t bring himself to look at her.   wriggling away from her, he stalked over to the couch and sank into the soft down cushions next to his molly, leaving new molly standing alone with her mouth gaping; shoulders slumping, at his blatant rejection.   old molly, having watched their exchange closely, was suddenly faced with an important decision. part of her wanted to allow her doppelganger to suffer; to experience the rejection. but the stronger part of her knew that would be the wrong thing to do. graham had no idea that it had been new molly, not herself, that had saved his life. ‘should i tell him?’ she pondered, laying her head onto his shoulder in comfortable repose, wishing she could somehow take some of the credit.   after a few minutes of consideration passed seeming like an eternity, molly decided she needed to come clean and tell him everything. “honesty is always the best policy.” she mumbled into the air in front of her to no one in particular. these were ‘words to live by’ according to her dad.   “what did you say?" old graham asked, confused yet again. “never mind that, graham, listen to me.... i want, no i need to tell you what has happened around here since you passed out.”   “okay....go on." he said, regarding her curiously as her expression turned as serious as death.   “it was her,” molly said, tossing her curly blond head in new molly’s direction. “she was the one who got your wound to stop bleeding. and it was she who took the major risk by going off on her own in search of help for you.  she won’t tell us what she had to do to make this right, but when she left, she said she’d do whatever it took. and when she came back, she had the tiger king with her. he helped you heal, but if it hadn't been for her you might not have made it." old molly glanced over to her double, who was talking quietly to her graham next to the three mysterious doors. they periodically looked over at her and old graham.  molly caught their attention and motioned for both of them to join them on the couch, and waited quietly for them to arrive before she continued. she grasped new molly's hand when she spoke. “when the tiger king took you away, he told us that saving you would come but only at a great sacrifice for her; that she had paid dearly in exchange for your safety. she did well by you graham, you need to forgive her.” 100919 ... cr0wl with the faces of both mollys directly in front of him, old graham beheld them with equal affection. although they appeared with all features to be identical, soft chocolate eyes, upturned nose, arching cheekbones, he often thought they were mirror images, that is, one molly looked like the molly in the mirror and the other molly looked like the girl observing the image. he went from one to the other and back again. then once more. the subtle differences were apparent. it was in the expression. one was free. the other was preoccupied. one took risks. the other was safe. finally, he stared at new molly an awkward moment and then spoke, his words coming forth little more than a mumble, although authentic in its presentation. "i'm sorry," he said. he could feel the old molly's eyes upon him. he noticed a smile had half-formed, like a waning moon. "i didn't mean to yell at you. i was just so angry about the rat bite. it was killing me. i don't like pain. no one does..." he reached out and squeezed her shoulder with a warmth she found instantly genuine. it was as if she was clay and he was molding her, adjusting her with a slight alteration. "thanks for all you did to have the tiger king heal me." although the old molly told him about her sacrafice he said nothing about it thinking it would make her uncomfortable especially if the tiger king had sworn her to secrecy. he knew her in his days of exploring hawksworth with her to be a solid blend of reality and fantasy. if living with the tiger king was pure fantasy, he was learning, as though nature was his teacher, that she not only possessed a duality, but her identity could reach back in time to the beginning, for inside of both them contained the very elements of the universe itself. there was a pregnant pause after he spoke as if both mollys had been struck dumb by a curse of silence. new graham took it as his opportunity to get a word in and with one arm placed strategically on the back of the worn, leather couch, he leapt over and landed splat next to old graham, causing him to break into a toothy grin. his eyes almost closed. "dude!" he yelled. "let's take a look at these doors, man!" his playful intrusion caused both mollys to turn at once to behold the three doors. new molly rushed up to the multi-colored door. it was the obvious choice and she decided on impulse, without considering the other two. they watched her as she tried to reach the small, round window cut out of the center. she was tall, but not tall enough to reach it. she looked back at them like a hungry kitten. old graham sat up and flew forward like a bluejay from a magnolia branch and landed next to her. he plopped to the persian rug on al fours. "stand on my back!" he called forth, his eyebrow lifting. she obeyed but was still not tall enough. the window was high up, almost seven feet. new graham and old molly joined them. old molly, without saying anything, climbed upon old graham's back. he yielded, permitting her weight, feeling it like wings pushing air. new molly followed while new graham watched, urging her on with guiding hands.. she scrambled up both of her mates and reached the window with a cheerful quip. "whooo hooo!" she said, her voice like a happy song. she felt her heart clutch at her with a sense of greed. it was a gypsy carnival. 100921 ... crowli “what?” old molly shouted upward toward her double. “what’s in there?” new molly said nothing, and grinning mischievously to herself while trying to stifle a giggle, she turned and reached for her graham. “can you help me get down?” she asked excitedly, and obliging instantly, he moved in closer, allowing her to encircle her outstretched hands around his neck. he easily wrapped both arms around her slender midsection, and swinging her around, she alighted onto the floor with the grace of a dancer. she locked eyes with him immediately, and her confirmatory nod spoke silent volumes to him. they stood still, her hands in his, both of them transfixed in a seemingly otherworldly unspoken communication. the second her double’s weight was off of her shoulders, old molly unceremoniously scrambled to her feet. she quickly offered her graham a helping hand to stand up, and he busily got to work dusting off his knees and re-affixing his ponytail which had become disheveled during the construction and dismantling of their human pyramid. old molly’s shirt was untucked and both her shoes were untied, neither of which scenario captured an iota of her interest. she impatiently swatted a stray blonde curl from her field of vision in order to give herself a better look at the new molly and graham, whose peculiar behavior she was now observing with acute intensity. they appeared as though they were suspended in time. old molly promptly elbowed her graham in in the ribs with the intention of inconspicuously drawing his attention to their unusual behavior, however as soon as he looked up, new molly and graham instantly snapped out of their reverie and they both said simultaneously, “it’s the carnival!” “JINX ON YOU!” was shouted by three voices in sing-song harmony as old and new graham and new molly acknowledged the shared thought that had shown up in a synchronized shout. “DOUBLE JINX!!” the giggling shout shot forth from the same three voices, causing old molly’s stomach to clench as she was suddenly struck with the familiar, unmistakable feeling of being an outsider. ‘well aren’t we just a cute little club here?’ she thought to herself, huffing impatiently as she attempted to shove away the unwelcome, uneasy feeling of being left out that had rooted itself at the edge of her consciousness. “well, what are you waiting for? tell us... what did you see?!” old molly inquired anxiously, the words tumbling off her lips like an uncontrolled rock slide. new molly launched into a descriptive narrative of the gypsy carnival that she had witnessed through the tiny window, citing animals, clowns, dancers, jesters and jugglers, as well as games and exhibitions like fire breathing dragons and flying faeries. ‘dragons and faeries?’ old molly thought to herself; her attention waning as new molly went on and on. ‘how could she have seen all of that in the few seconds she was up there?’ molly mused. she sensed a fleeting feeling of familiarity as her doppelganger spoke about this so-called carnival, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that her double was making the story up as she went along. it was almost like she was describing a dream and recounting the fantastically unrealistic events as she recalled them. “i’m not so sure about clowns...did you say there were going to be clowns?” old molly asked worriedly, surprising herself with the strange quiver that had lodged into her voice. new molly looked at her and rolled her eyes dramatically, and dismissing her question with a sniffing laugh, she continued her colorful diatribe without missing a beat. old molly was momentarily vexed, and unnoticed by the others she tuned out. she walked away alone, and without thinking about where she was going, she found herself once again inhabiting the space directly in front of the three mysterious doors. she studied the multi-colored door and shuddered when she considered that there might be clowns behind it. ‘what kind of clowns are in there?’ she wondered. no one, not even graham knew about her fear/love dualistic relationship with clowns. ....she was instantly taken back in time and flooded with a vivid memory of a wonderful winter carnival which she had attended with her family a few years back. she had been six years old, and she fell honest-to-goodness in love with a clown that day. he was a funny one, with his face painted into a giant silly smile. his nose was bright red and his eyes were kind. his likeness flashed through her mind with the stunning, vibrant clarity of a professional digital photograph as she remembered the balloon he had tied just for her. (it was the in the shape of a rabbit.) her clown had been the leader of an organized treasure hunt through a maze made entirely of snow, and oh how she had loved it! they'd played games, pretending they were reindeer and penguins, and they made funny noises back and forth while they found treasure everywhere they turned. she was having the time of her life.... but then somehow she took a wrong turn and found herself lost. she was alone, cold, crying and terrified. eventually he found her and showed her the way back to her family. she would never forget that clown. but still... she had begun to have nightmares about being lost after that, and about clowns, and in her dreams there was no kind clown to save her. there were only the ones who wore scary, sinister masks without smiles. and worse than the dreams, was that every single clown she had seen since that carnival so many years before, regardless of the face, had given her heart-pounding pause. molly shook her head, admonishing herself, for she was fully aware that she was acting like a child for worrying about clowns. as the memory faded, molly thought she heard music. ‘where is that coming from?’ she thought to herself, craning her neck to get closer to the trio of doors. she jammed her ear against the colored door, but she heard nothing. mimicking her action with the black door, however, brought a broad smile to her face. sure enough, she heard it, faintly at first and becoming louder. it was the unmistakable sound of pinging piano notes. 100921 ... cr0wl "do you hear the toy piano?" old molly called out to old graham, who had his ear up against the white door. he listened and swore he could hear a chorus of children singing. "what?" he yelled back. he stood looking at her. he could tell she wanted to open the door. there was a yearning behind her eyes. "let's play a game," old molly said, turning to him. "how about if we both knock at the same time?" "ok," old graham returned. "the first one to have their door opened is the winner." "what do we win?" old molly asked. she pulled a stray hair from her bottom lip. neither molly or graham had noticed that the tiger king had appeared from another direction and was with new graham and molly beside the colorful mosaic door. the three of them silently beheld the collision of their companions. "i'll give you my bracelet!" old graham called forth, yanking the ring of red glass beads from his wrist and holding it up to her like an offering of great wealth. old molly smiled. "ok!" she yelled. her cheeks were still brown from a summer spent outdoors chasing butterflies and skinning her knees. she pulled her beaded necklace off her head and lifted it up to him with an equal measure of pageantry. "and my necklace if you're first!" "right on!" old graham yelled back and turned towards his white door. he slipped his bracelet back on and raised his right hand in preparation of knocking. old molly duplicated his effort, as she slipped her necklace over her golden curls to rest in its space kissed as well by the sun. "will the doors open?" new molly whispered to the tiger king. he had her cradled in his arms as if she was a baby. her lips were inches from his costumed ear. "doors open if you knock on them," the tiger king said. suddenly, new graham could feel his breath catching in his chest like an animal stepping into a trap. old graham and molly counted to three together and knocked. their doors opened in on themselves at the exact same time and with the same manner of speed, slow and sure, as if the one knocking wanted to change their mind and turn away, they could, rather easily. but molly and graham waited, their feet practically glued to the wooden floor. when the doors had completely opened, there was a great roar that came forth out of the mouth of the tiger king himself. there was many tonal inflections recognizable. there was authority, anger, and judgement. there was an overall sense of dread and warning. however, even as the blast of his guttural voice rang out, old molly and graham stood transfixed in their spots, oblivious to his wrath. in the following silence, both molly and graham fell into the openings the doors created. as though, they had been released from something more than gravity or the curvature that time and space create. the tiger king had to stop new graham from running after them. new molly was sobbing from overwhelming grief at their shocking disappearance. molly fell into the past. graham fell into the future. 100923 ... crowli ‘didn’t see that one coming,' old molly thought to herself. she knew she had fallen through the doorway, that much she could gather, but for some weird reason she was more curious than frightened. she had those unmistakable butterflies in her belly. she hadn't meant to do anything wrong... the tiger king was angry, for sure, but yet he’d allowed them to knock on the doors knowing full well they would open. ‘maybe this is part of his plan,’ molly thought. although she sensed risk, even danger, the element of surprise and the promise of adventure were gnawing at her imagination like a panting, playful puppy on some poor sap’s pant leg. she felt like she was going somewhere, and had the overwhelming feeling she was safe. ‘or am i?’ she considered, reflecting silently. this was not free falling, she reasoned. she was seriously floating. or was it flying? but she was alone, making her proverbial cup half full and half empty at the same time. she missed her graham. 'we should've knocked on the same door....' she thought. the vacuum that had resulted from molly opening the mysterious black door had truly sucked her in, and rather forcibly, however she couldn’t fathom where she might be. it seemed like it could be a passageway, perhaps a maze of sorts, but the most interesting aspect was that she was gracefully suspended within a pulsating, colorfully illuminated sphere as if her body was being supported by an invisible gossamer harness. the sphere reminded her at once of what she and graham had witnessed after they escaped the well, but this was slightly different. it looked and felt like a lava lamp made of pigmented air and light. “weird but cool” was the only descriptor that kept popping into molly’s mind. she was certain she was not in control; it was as though she had been launched on a pre-determined course, with an auto-pilot of sorts. golden curls bounced magically upward and molly's untucked shirt continuously filled and deflated like a living, breathing balloon, randomly flapping as the winds changed direction while she drifted through the strange, colorful matrix. 'this is like para-sailing in the cayman_islands only it's in reverse and without the parachute,' she mused as she swam through the fragrant, balmy air, feeling like a fish that was somehow satisfied to exist out of water. she had the overwhelming feeling that she was moving backwards...far and away and beyond from the 'now' as she knew it. the tiger king's angry roar faded into a soft murmur as she descended, but his voice was replaced without delay by the steady plinks and pings of piano music. she was moving closer to this intriguing, playful melody because she heard it becoming louder and louder by the second. molly took a deep breath in, shrugging both shoulders, and resigned to herself that she was probably in for the ride of her life. she stretched her arms and legs and closed her eyes as a fearful fleeting thought flew through her mind causing the hairs on the back of her neck to prickle. just how far she had crossed the line this time? was the tiger king furious? would she be judged? punished? and on top of that, she was worried about graham. ‘i wish he was here...that we were doing this together.’ she thought glumly, but then her reverie was interrupted abruptly by a clearly identifiable alteration in the sphere. it had suddenly gotten much smaller, giving her the feeling it was closing in on her, the light was dimming swiftly, and she was suddenly inexplicably freezing cold. ‘what is going on here?’ molly wondered to herself, but as she shivered and shook her head in an attempt to see more clearly, the sphere disappeared. suddenly the blissful feeling of floating was gone; replaced at once by an unmistakable lurch of fear in her stomach. the colors were gone. there was no light, and all she could see was blackness, moderately punctuated by the fact that she was falling now, and falling fast. “oh SHIT!!!” molly yelled into the darkness, flailing her arms and legs, frantically trying to gain some semblance of stability and failing miserably. there was nothing to grab onto; nothing to break her fall. she felt like she could be falling to her death. after seconds that seemed to drag like hours, it was over, and she did not die, but instead landed hard and with a thump in a heap of something soft. she had arrived somewhere, but where the hell was she? molly rooted around in the darkness suspiciously, trying to garner some perception as to where she might be. she could not see a blessed thing, but something caught her attention, sparking a twinge of familiarity. it was the distinctive scent of lavender. ‘it smells like mom’s lotion,’ she thought absently, taking another big whiff of the empty darkness. molly could tell she was sitting on a thick feathery surface, like a comforter, but there were random bumps and lumps underneath her, obstructing the softness. she got onto all fours and started to look for the edge of the blanket in order to discover what might be underneath of her, and when her hand finally found treasure, she actually laughed out loud. it was a shoe! a stiletto heeled pump that felt cool and smooth against her hand, like it could be shiny patent leather. ‘what the heck?’ she thought as she continued her search. she pulled out a sneaker next, then a flip flop. molly warily attempted to stand, and her head and shoulders were instantly surrounded with what felt like hanging clothing. she was in a closet! immediately jutting both hands in front of her, molly felt for a door, and met her mark right away, however as she ran her fingertips along the jamb looking for a doorknob, she was met with a hole instead. “what the...?” molly screamed, frustrated. the doorknob was broken and missing. she was stuck. locked in. trapped like an animal. but then, out of the blue, recognition saturated her like a shower of warm rain, and excitement pulsed through her like a bolt of electricity. she knew where she was. “LET ME OUT OF HERE!!” she yelled, but voice flattened and fizzled as it was absorbed by the contents of the dark closet. molly banged on the door several times in succession, continuing her efforts to be heard, and finally after her throat had become raw with effort, her plea was answered. she heard footfalls approaching. the door handle was turning. molly blinked her eyes against the flood of sunny brightness when the door opened, and squinting, she laughed when she was able to make out the silhouette of her savior. it was her little brother. it took a few seconds of adjusting her eyes to the sudden brightness for her to see him clearly enough to note that he was glaring fiercely at her. 'okay, he's pissed....wonder what i did?' she thought. "hey bud! thanks for getting me out!" she said, and moved toward him to give him a hug. but he literally bristled at her, and standing with his arms crossed over his chest, he regarded her crossly. “i counted to ten and then tried to find you, like you told me but i couldn’t! i hate playing hide and seek with you molly!” he turned about face and quickly stomped through the doorway, into the hallway beyond her field of vision. but it was then that she figured out where the piano music had come from. it was scottie's piano. molly was home. 100924 ... rt graham's blind step into groundless space sucked the breath from his diaphragm and lungs through one long primal scream. it was the utter helplessness he tried to fight, as if words were no longer necessary anymore, only the most basic of form of language was demanded. for nothing else mattered except for preventing life from escaping him. he did not have time to think any thought, for his mind was vacated, memory running out in front of him. he simply fell and was falling, a victim to his fate. he hit the water at a perfect angle unbeknownst to him. any other way could have killed him. he sliced the surface and traveled downwards nearly thirty feet. he woke from his surrender to terror realizing he was immersed in water, but unable to comprehend whether he was facing right side up or upside down. fortunately he had filled his lungs with air in an instinctive effort of survival and managed to gain a sense of the surface for there was a light as if the sun was shining upon the world on a day when someone else could be involved in great fun. he swam upwards towards the brilliance with arms like green petals and his desire to live an opening flower. he burst his face out of the top and gulped at the air wanting to drink all of the blue. his legs kicked the water with desperate urgency. up and down he bobbed, looking about for anything besides water. perhaps a branch to hold. a boat? where am i? he thought and his thoughts began to form one after another. he didn't want to die that was for sure. it was all so beautiful around him. the day was sunny. the water was warm, but he was all alone and one thought he wasn't expecting came to him and put a knife as it were to his throat. what if no one comes to save me? someone save me. he could taste the salt on his lips and felt it stinging his eyes. he thought about sharks. as he continued to support himself, his legs peddling to cramping exhaustion, he saw a flash of supple, glistening, grey flesh. by the very grace alone he knew it was a dolphin. the next moment it was upon him, performing ballet unawares chattering in its high-pitched happy insistence as if it was telling him to hold on for a rescue ride to some distant shore. and so graham reached out and held onto its dorsal fin. off they went, graham holding his breath as well. they moved through the ocean with relative ease like a horse when you feel like the two of you are one thing. graham wished he could travel all seven of the world's oceans. but alas, the dolphin brought him to a simple wooden pier that jutted out from the heavily wooded shoreline of what appeared to be an island. the dolphin chattered something in its peculiar language of quips and whistles and graham stumbled off and stepped to the plankboard of the pier. "thank you for saving me," he said. he watched as the dolphin slipped under the water, slapping his tail like a high five. 100925 ... crowli molly emerged cautiously from the darkened confines of the closet, and as soon as she felt the nubby, thick berber under her left foot she realized that she must have lost a shoe during the fall. molly looked around, and was instantly immersed in familiarity. she recognized the burgundy draperies, the ocher paint on the walls, and the velvet-smooth, earth-toned paisley comforter on the giant mahogany bed. she smelled the lavender, more intensely now. it was her mother's scent.  she was definitely in her parents' bedroom.... 'how weird is this?' she thought, kicking off the remaining shoe and plopping her lithe form onto the king sized bed. molly fingered the soft velvet and was instantly reminded of the beautiful gown she had worn during the frightening journey with the grahams through the dark tunnel. she shivered involuntarily when she thought of the bat that had flown into her hair, and instinctively raising her hand to smooth her curls, she shook her head in an effort to dismiss the memory. 'am i dreaming now? molly thought to herself, perplexed somewhat as she recalled that she had snuck away from her babysitter and gone exploring with graham in the evening, and it was now very clearly daytime. 'or was i dreaming all of that?'  when she glanced down at her clothes, however, she quickly rejected the dream theory. she did not own clothes like the ones she was wearing.  it was sunny. and very, very warm. she could see lines of sparkling slanted swirls sneaking through the slats of the shutters, and she felt the gentle breeze wafting in perfect accompaniment to the dance of the lightweight drapery panels on either side of the open window. her clothing suddenly became uncomfortable, prickling at her damp skin. she moved to scratch her left shoulder, and as her hand crossed over her sightline, molly noticed a smudge of black dirt on the back of it. "yuck." she retorted to herself upon inspecting both hands. she had gotten filthy on that adventure to hawksworth. 'okay, so maybe none of that was a dream....but why am i so dirty, and how the heck did i get back home?' she thought.  molly had a sudden, basic primal urge to get clean. she was dying to take a bath.    'i wonder what time it is...' molly thought as she gazed out the window, and noticing immediately the silhouette of the gabled roofline of hawksworth in the distance, she felt her heart miss a beat, then start to pound. 'i'll bet graham is back home too....' she considered, rubbing her eyes sleepily as she scanned her surroundings for a clock. there was none. molly stood slowly and made her way into the hallway, automatically padding to her left in the direction of her bedroom. she passed scottie's room and peeked in, fully expecting to see his blond head playing, but his toy piano was unattended, silent and lonely. molly stopped in front of her closed bedroom door, hesitantly pausing as she stared at the doorknob. she saw the note stuck to it. 'something's wrong with this picture.' she considered, pulling the folded paper free of the transparent tape. molly's lips pursed and her brow wrinkled, and her face settled into a frown she as read the words carefully. "molly, dad and i will be home about 6:30 with pizza! keep a good eye out for scottie when he gets off the bus, and be so good for francie. see you soon. xoxo, mom." 'okay, weirder than weird.' molly thought, shaking her head, 'why would mom leave me the exact same note that she did yesterday? pizza again? francie again?'  after trying three times to jam the note into the front pocket of her adventure gear pants, molly finally realized that there was no pocket in the peculiar pants. huffing impatiently, she twisted the knob and opened her bedroom door, and with openmouthed, wide-eyed awe, she gasped for the breath that had forcibly escaped her when she beheld the view. it was her bedroom alright, but there was one very distinctive issue.  her jeans, her hoodie, and her sneakers, the very ones she had worn to hawksworth the day before, were laid out on the window seat as if they were preparing for a journey. yesterday's journey.  and her plaid backpack was sitting right below them on the floor. the backpack she left at the well in the dark, stinky basement. "oh my god....what have i done?" molly sighed, and impatiently pressing her fingers into her closed eyes, she saw the corresponding brightness as she sank to the floor, still clutching the note from her mom. briefly struggling to piece together the fragments of what she was looking at into some semblance of reality, truth suddenly dawned on her.  but how in god's name had she gone backwards in time?               100925 ... cr0wl the tiger king, coughing once and then again, had his arms around the new molly and graham, as if he was protecting them from something horrible they had witnessed, and they were now unable to hide for it was actually happening to them, even though it was inside out. they still stood in front of the mosaic door, their feet frozen by awe and an unearthly display of quantum physics. molly watched as her replica seemed to be ripped from time and space, dissolving like sugar crystals into warm blood, actually disintegrating before her wide-eyed gaze into a million particles of dust and color. they hovered in the cinnamon scented air like secret smoke and then flashed sideways like a fourth of july sparkler in the hands of a five year-old. "they could be stars," the tiger king said, inferring that molly was made up of the same materials that the universe contained. graham had his eyes glued on his replica who had disappeared in a disparate fashion. more like jumping out of an airplane, he thought, because suicide never made sense to him, considering we're all going to die anyway. mind as well live, have fun, and help others. he knew his replica was jumping becasue it's simply what happened to him. he risked the knock on the door. but he figured he was ready for whatever was on the other side. yet, there was something in the look on the face that bothered graham as he watched him realize there was an absence of land at his feet. a look of terror. "terror is the inability to see light in the darkness," the tiger king said, rubbing the muscle at the back of graham's neck. "believe me," he said, clearing his throat. he had been smoking way too much. "he will fall and crash, but help is always on the way." "and what about us, now?" molly sniffled. she buried her damp cheeks in the fur of the tiger king's mask. she inhaled the fragrance of frangipani. "we are going to the carnival," he said. she lifted her head up and instantly brightened. nut brown eyes widening like full moons. "are we going to disappear?" graham asked, stepping away from the tiger king and two steps back from the door. "not like the others," the tiger king said. "but yes, you will be unseen by them for quite a while." "will we be able to talk with them?" molly asked, laying her head down again on his shoulder. "yes, it's possible," he said. "but you must discover how to do it." "will you help us?" graham asked. the tiger king looked down at graham, much like a father who has been a child, a youth, a man, and all of them while he was battling the possession of his ulterior side. "i am always available to you," he finally said after an uncomfortable silence which made graham feel anxious. "just ask." 100926 ... crowli old molly's heart started to quicken as she struggled to comprehend her current circumstance. she was living in today, but yet she was back inside yesterday. so did it all happen or didn't it? it did. she was there. it was real. bit so too was this. "how is this even possible?" she said out loud.  the empty room did not answer.  'i need to talk to graham,' molly thought. 'but first, a bath.' molly carelessly tossed the clothing that she had been wearing into a heap on the floor, exchanging the tiger king's strange garments gratefully for her red terrycloth robe. she pulled her curls into a scrunchie before scrubbing her face and brushing and flossing her teeth, and just before she stepped into the bubbling warm bath water, she paused to glance at herself in the mirror. her reflection provoked an eerie response, because though she was regarding her own image, she could have sworn she was looking at her doppleganger. there were subtle nuances of expression that she had never before noticed, and molly surprised herself when she sighed and reached out to touch the mirror. molly missed her duplicate. 'she is me and i am me. we are each other.' the words seemed to form without conscious thought. thoughts traveled quickly, and blossomed into questions about the other molly and graham. 'i wonder what they are up to....and where is the tiger king now?' molly slid into the bathtub, allowing the warmth to surround her. she tried to tune out and relax, but it seemed as though her brain had gone onto overdrive. should she and her graham go back to hawksworth? was it even possible to return to where they last were? molly shuddered at the very thought of the freezing cold well. and then there was the darkness of the tunnel. and the bat. and the rat. there had to be an easier way to get from here to there than retracing their steps. molly got down to business and washed the grime away, then made a hasty exit from the tub. normally she would have lingered in the silky warm water, but today.....well, today she had some work to do.   she dried off and inspected her hands. "no more dirt!" molly proclaimed, and opened up her chest of drawers in search of comfy clothes. she pulled out a pair of soft heather grey sweat pants and her favorite pale yellow tee shirt that was screen printed with a cartoon drawing of skis, poles, a helmet and goggles all dispersed around a fallen stick figure skier, comically punctuated with the the words 'yard sale.' her mom told her she looked like a tomboy in this shirt, but molly didn't care. her mom was always trying to make her into something she wasn't.  she had missed her mom and dad when she was at hawksworth, but in an ironic twist of fate, now that she was home, she had to admit she had such a strong urge to go back. adventure was addictive, she reasoned, noticing the strange burning deep within herself. was it yearning? longing? no, it was straight-up desire to get to that carnival. sure, she had been a little nervous about the damn clowns, but she hadn't intended to give up. she had wanted to prove to herself that she was over the clown fear. and on top of that, though she wasn't sure where it was coming from, she had the strongest sense that their replicas needed them; that the tiger king was up to something.   'why did we knock on those doors?' molly thought to herself, retrospectively acknowledging the dangerous game they'd willingly played. 'why did he trick us?'     'yep, i need to see graham...we need to talk about this right now.' picking up her backpack with the intent to take a quick inventory of the contents, molly unzipped he compartments one by one, and quickly found that she had only packed a journal and a pen? that's it? 'what was i thinking?' she scurried around her room on a treasure hunt for additional supplies. she grabbed a flash light, a pack of gum, and as an afterthought, she threw in her new digital camera. slinging it haphazardly over her shoulder, she walked over to her closet, and picked out a pink Burton hoodie, tied it around her waist, and bounced out her door and down the steps, making a beeline for the phone in the kitchen.  molly absently rolled the red beads of her necklace between her thumb and index finger as she dialed graham's home phone number.  there was no answer. hmmmmm. molly replaced the cordless phone in its cradle and wandered into the kitchen in search of a snack. francie was sitting at the table eating sloppily from a giant bowl of ice cream, while listening to her i-pod and doodling endless circles and squares in an open notebook. 'some babysitter she is....' molly thought with a pinch of disdain as she opened a bag of tostitos with a commanding pop and sat down.  "where's scottie?" francie asked with a lift of her left eyebrow.  "it's not my turn to watch him....i mean you're the one getting paid to babysit, right?" molly shot back, and abruptly stood up and walked onto the screened in porch. she heard something unintelligible erupt from francie; and ascertained that she had said "brat" although it was partially obscured by the girl's mouthful of ice cream. 'what a jerk,' molly thought with a huff. "i'm going to graham's." molly called back over her shoulder, but she was five hundred percent certain that the idiot babysitter didn't notice her leaving. when molly turned around to open the door to go outside, she ran smack into her dad who was on his way in.  "whoa girl....where are you running off to?" her dad said with a touch of uncharacteristic sternness that molly had not expected. she was a daddy's girl through and through, and in his eyes, she normally could do no wrong. except for right now. for some reason he seemed a bit pissed off. "to graham's. is that okay?" molly answered.  "not now, young lady." he said, his mouth quickly returning to a thin line after he spoke. 'is he angry?' molly thought. "is something wrong daddy?" she asked. "mol, your mom is on her way in with pizza. we need to talk with you, so no, you cannot leave to go to graham's." something was wrong. molly felt it surround her like a menacing gust of black dust, and as her mom appeared in the doorway, alarm bells went off and silent sirens screamed. her mother's eyes were red-rimmed and glassy like she had been crying. 'she never cries.' molly thought. some kind of trouble was afoot.....         100928 ... cr0wl old graham scrambled up to his feet, pushing off the weather-beaten pier boards. although he was dripping wet, a warm summer breeze easily defined as tropical blew with force against him as if it was the breath of the tiger king himself drying him off. by the time he walked the length of the boards away from the water and towards the shore, he was only a little damp, even his stringy locks, buffeted from his fall and subsequent battle to live while the threat of drowning was imminent. it seemed to be morning for the sun was just appearing along a distant line of purple mountains. it was first a fingernail, but even as he gazed out to get a sense of where he was, it had risen to a bright orange ball and had with majestic introduction revealed a small, secret house tucked under the canopy of several hemlocks, their long, graceful branches of green hovering over it like a doting mother. graham, feeling a renewed sense of vigor now that his clothes were no longer wet and contemplating the fact that a dolphin had appeared out of nowhere to rescue him, skipped to the house and stopped at the entrance. there was a black iron fence surrounding the immediate area with a gate that was shut. inside the area, he beheld a trickling fountain with water splashing happily into a pool from the statue of a renaissance woman pouring a vessel. flowers of every shape, size and color grew with luxury all around him intermingled with stunning displays of mature shrubbery and ornamental trees. graham could tell that this was someone's passion. he fiddled with the gate and opened it, aware that whoever lived there was someone he wanted to meet. the house itself was made from fieldstone. there was a chimney and several wood-paned windows with overflowing flower boxes of geranium. graham walked along a brick pathway towards the entrance, anticipation sticking to him as if he had just pushed through a spider's web. the door had a tin mailbox with the number 235 and the red flag was up for there was a package jutting out of it for the mailman to take. graham's curiosity overtook his better judgement and he grabbed a sneak peak at the address on the front of the large envelope. it was his name and his address from his home back in reality. he felt a stab of recognition inside his soul like the smell of his dad's old spice cologne, just after he had taken his shower. if it's to me, then i can open it. he thought. and as he ripped away at the paper, another thought entered his renewed sense of clarity. who lives here that they are sending me this... he opened it...this book? for that's what it was. another jolt of awareness hit him like the smack of a stone upon a windshield glass. on the cover was the image of the tiger walking with two children. 100929 ... cr0wl "should we just wait for them then?" new molly asked, lifting her face about a foot away from the tiger king's masked face. she could smell pinot noir on his breath and a brief assembly of smoke that nearly made her gag. he sighed underneath and caught her eyes. this magnetic attraction faded, but it was a lightning strike he was able to escape, ducking under proverbial seclusion. "yes," he said. "time is irrelevant. they can live years while you yawn." new graham knocked on the red door with insurgent impatience. he had grown impatient, simply because he was bored. "no one will open the door but me," the tiger king said, pulling graham back by the scruff of his shirt. he managed to catch a bit of his skin under the shoulder blade with a gloved claw as he did, and made him wince. moments later it bled and stained the grey fabric. a few minutes later he would have molly look at it and she would tell him it was a deep scratch, but it would heal without the need of stitches and probably not scar. "the four of you will attend the festival together for it is how it must be," he added. "must...be...?" molly asked, wriggling out of his arms. she was small next to him. he eased her to her feet. she ran her hands through her blond curls, relaxing them. her eyes were bloodshot from fitful sleep. "yes," the tiger king said, authoritatively. "i have placed certain boundaries around you that you may remain in the sphere of your understanding." "i don't understand," molly said, huffing and puffing. she knew the tiger king to say many things that ran above her head like swiftly moving clouds. "you use these big words to confuse us," graham added, turning away with arms folded. he didn't like to see molly reduced to silence. her words were always his means of movement. "i'm sorry," the tiger king said, drawing them to his side with an abrupt, affectionate sweep of his strength. "your other halves are suffering a certain sense of loss right now. you must be emptied before you can be refilled." 100930 ... crowli as her mother occupied herself with the immediately obvious task of unloading the two cardboard pizza boxes onto four plates and then pouring cokes, molly's father went about the business of paying francie and sending her on her way. wordlessly searching her mom's downcast expression for a clue as to what could possibly be coming, molly found nothing but vacant, empty eyes. sad eyes. in fact, they were beyond sad. she looked absolutely miserable. molly would be lying if she said hadn’t noticed the tension between her parents lately, but her mom’s cry eyes combined with her dad’s stressed out appearance told another story. after francie pocketed her unjustifiable twenty dollar bill and loped down the back porch steps, disappearing around the corner of the house, it was molly's father who spoke first. "go get your brother, mollygirl." he said, gently squeezing her shoulder. she could tell he was attempting normalcy by tossing out her pet name, but molly did not miss the fraudulent smile that he briefly pasted upon his features like he was acting in a stage play. his curved lips transformed into a thin line quickly, and though molly didn't miss that or his sagging shoulders, she said nothing and obediently turned an about face and stepped through the sliding glass door to begin the scottie search within the house. ***************** molly's brother was golden. sure, he could be a pint-sized pain in the rear, but overall he was more than she could ask for in a sibling. he was as cute as a button, with the most precocious, happy-go-lucky personality. the only issue molly had with scottie was that he had the luxury, unrealized by him of course, of being the biological child of both their parents. though it was true that molly had been adopted by her step-dad as an infant, and likewise, she never for a single moment doubted that he loved her as his own, it still bothered her that she was different….she’d always felt sort of hung up halfway between yes and no; between right and wrong. it bothered her tremendously that she was told she would never know her real dad. and it was beyond her control but not beyond her awareness that her mother couldn’t show molly love. to any outside observer she put on a consistently believable show of normal maternal nurturing, but molly had always sensed resentment; even judgment from her mother. and on top of that, her mom was never happy that molly had become so close with her adoptive dad. she seemed almost jealous of their relationship, but at the same time was unwilling or unable to provide for molly what he so willingly gave her. it was disjointed and dysfunctional. but it was her world. years ago when scottie was born, molly uncovered an important piece of her personal puzzle. her grandmother had taken her to the hospital to visit with her parents and to meet the new addition to the family, and even though molly had only been turning seven, she had been perceptive enough to have seen something special in her mother's face when she gazed at scottie's tiny form. there was no question that her expression had been then and continued to be now, diametrically different from the way her mother looked at her. she loved scottie completely with her entire heart and soul. and it showed. in the evening following that visit to the hospital, her gran had put away a bottle of celebratory champagne all by herself, and she accidentally spilled a few beans that she shouldn't have when she started talking incessantly about her daughter. gran had no idea that her words would cut molly’s heart into ribbons, yet molly procured from them a plausible conclusion….the answer to the question of why her mom never looked at her without that signature reproachful glint in her eye. and the truth wounded deep. all her mother could see when she looked at her daughter was molly's real father. they had evidently been high school sweethearts, and molly was the result of reckless, careless young love. gran said that mom's heart had been "broken into ten million pieces when he ran scared. and you're always there, girl, a constant reminder of him…poor dear….you look exactly like him." those were gran's exact words. ‘who was the poor dear, gran? mom? or me?’ molly and her vivid imagination had drawn a colorful picture of what her dad might look like now. she had only ever seen one picture of him, and he had been eighteen years old when it was taken. he was strikingly good looking, tanned skin with blond shoulder length hair, chiseled features, brown eyes with perfect eyebrows, and a muscular but lean build. in the picture he was wearing black leathers and smiling huge, sitting on a motorcycle with a coors light can in his hand. he looked happy, yet haunted at the same time. the truth had come out long ago that he had 'split' before molly was born, and he had never looked back. ‘but where did he go?’ molly wondered for the umpteen millionth time. ‘why the big mystery?’ she had tried diligently within the resources available to her to find out more about her real father, and had gotten nowhere. her mother wouldn’t even acknowledge the questions, and her dad obviously either didn’t have or else was unwilling to provide the answers. it was almost as though the man who helped create her had vanished into thin air when he disappeared from their lives. and so, molly gave up on the surface, and stopped asking questions, but yet she had a constant longing for his affection. for his love. she needed him and only him to fill the part of her heart that was empty. molly had always felt ‘different’ from the other kids at school because of her family situation, even though she had kept the details hidden well. it wasn’t exactly a secret that her dad wasn’t her "real" dad, or that she was halfway adopted, however, she’d never confided her secrets to a single soul. at least not until graham came along. she hadn’t known initially that in him she would find a true kindred spirit. the two of them had become unlikely best friends very quickly. molly would never forget that day at school when graham had shown up for the first time. he was the new kid, shy as a stray puppy, and molly recalled with vivid clarity how she had been playing on the playground with a group of other kids in the warm september sun, and had caught a glimpse of him sitting all alone on the swings. she was drawn to him like a moth to a shining light in the universe’s deepest darkness, and when they connected, neither of them let go. they had both been so shy at first, but as they got to know each other, their friendship took on an otherworldly dimension they were independently, consistently at a loss to describe. it was so much more than being extraordinarily close. they seemed to be so magnetically connected that they were often able to read each others thoughts, and as well, they possessed the unique ability to sense and experience each other’s emotions. they found out last year during a soul searching, tear-filled discussion that they shared a common ‘circumstance,’ as that was the very day when she found out that graham had been adopted by his step-father too. molly subsequently bared her soul to graham, allowing her deepest secrets to melt into his, and the result would be a bond that continued to strengthen with time. molly had since come to understand that graham was much less fortunate in the dad replacement department, however. graham's mother had married a complete jerk, it was as simple as that. and so, she and graham had formulated a preliminary plan to find their real dads, but that was something for the future…. ******** molly followed the plinking, pinging melodic sounds, and easily located scottie back in his room again, banging away on his toy piano. his little blond head was bobbing forward and back to the beat, and oddly enough, though he had simply been pretending to be a rock star, his untrained hands were actually making real music. it sounded like it had been slightly rehearsed and was now being performed perfectly. no doubt, the kid had talent. 'at least he's good at something....not like me.' molly thought glumly. "hey bud...c'mon downstairs, there's pizza for din din!" molly called in from his doorway. scottie’s eyes brightened immediately, and in the next second, he was standing next to her and reaching to be carried; the outburst from the hide and go seek incident suddenly becoming a distant memory. 100930 ... . mg_03 101001 what's it to you? who go blather from