Following the boy to the door frame, I knocked trying to get someone's attention inside the house.
A moment later the spitting image of a 90's Texan housewife appeared in the corridor in front of that door. When she noticed the door was open and there was a stranger standing there, the woman seemed greatly surprised, as if she was about to scream for help, so I interrupted.
"Hello!, sorry, the door was open" I explained, a little embarrassed. "A moment ago, I was talking to Sheldon, and he told me my brother Gabe was here. By the way, I'm PJ Duncan. We just moved into the house next door," I quickly added with a friendly smile to avoid alarming the woman.
With much more calmness on her face. "Yes, your brother was here playing with Missy, my daughter. Hasn't he gone back home?" She asked with a thick Texan accent.
"No, Mom asked me to come look for him," I replied with a smile to the kind woman.
"Mary! Who's at the door?" a man's voice was heard from inside the house.
"It's PJ Duncan, from the new neighbors. He's here looking for his brother!" the Texan woman shouted back, "Come on in, please. Let's go find your brother," she said, this time smiling warmly.
Thanking the woman, I followed her inside. It didn't take long to find Gabe; he was sitting next to a little girl at the family dining room table, chatting cheerfully, seemingly ignoring the curious gazes of the other people around the table, an grown man and a teenager.
"Good afternoon, nice to meet you all. I'm PJ Duncan" I said, embarrassed. "We just moved in a few days ago," I added, pointing at Gabe and me.
Smiling in rigidly, the man sitting at the head of the table nodded. "Nice to meet you. I'm George Cooper," he introduced himself, sharing a glance with his wife.
The teenager nodded slightly as a greeting. "Georgie."
Smiling at the new family members, I turned to my brother, "Gabe, we have to go. Mom is looking for you."
"PJ, I'm having dinner with the Coopers. Missy invited me," Gabe said with a smile, pointing to the little girl next to him.
"That's right, I invited him. He said he was hungry, so I thought, as good Christians, we should invite him to eat, right, Mom?" Missy said, looking at her mother with puppy eyes.
Seemingly aware of her rudeness, the woman nodded energetically, "You're absolutely right, Missy Cooper" she said, snapping her fingers. "In fact, PJ, why don't you go back and tell your mom that, as a Texas welcome, y'all are invited to dinner?" I heard Mr. Cooper choking on the beer he was drinking.
"We wouldn't want to be a bother, Mrs. Co-"
"Nonsense, it's no trouble at all" she interrupted me. "I always cook more than necessary and was planning to bring some as a welcome gift anyway, but since Gabe wants to have dinner with us, what better way to get to know each other than having dinner together?" she said as she led me towards the entrance we came through. From the force with which she guided me and the tone of her voice, it was clear that she would not allow me to refuse.
Sighing in defeat. "If you insist," I said, making way outside.
In the front yard, parked beside my mom's car, was a hideous yellow truck. On its driver's side door was a sticker with the slogan "Bob's Bugs Be Gone," and on the hood was a giant insect resembling an ant. Looking at the positive side, the color and the giant insect definitely attracted attention; it was a great marketing plan.
Ignoring the truck, I entered the house.
"Mom!" I called out as soon as I entered.
A few meters from the door, Bob was sitting on a couch watching TV while drinking a beer. Startled by my shout, he spun around on the sofa. "What's going on?" he asked.
"The Coopers, our neighbors, invited us for dinner" I replied "I was just about to let Mom know. When did you get here?"
Bob, upon hearing me. Quickly grabbed the TV remote to turn it off, downed the remaining beer in one gulp, and excitedly stood up. "Great!" he said excitedly in a low voice, "I'll go get your mother from the kitchen, you go get your sister, hurry up, and meet us at the door in 30 seconds," he crouched down slightly, looking serious, as if he were making a really complicated plan.
I could only think of one reason why Bob was making such a fuss. Apparently, Mom didn't know how to cook.
Nodding in unison with Bob, we both moved on to our respective missions.
Teddy's room remained closed with music playing inside. The music was much quieter than before. I waited outside with two quick knocks until I heard, "Come in," from inside. "What's up?" Teddy asked, not taking her eyes off a paper on her bed, where she had a lot of photographs.
Teddy's room was surprisingly decorated, despite being here as long as everyone else and being the most reluctant to leave Colorado. The room was completely personalized with photographs covering one of the walls, all showing Teddy with, I suppose, her best friend in Colorado. There were posters of celebrities I didn't recognize on the other walls, and her half-open closet was filled with clothes and other accessories.
"We're going to have dinner with the Coopers; they invited us over to their house," I said, "They are the neighbors next door," I added realizing that Teddy might not know who the Coopers were.
Nodding, Teddy folded the paper she was working on
"What's that you have there?" I asked, sitting on the corner of her bed and pointing to the paper she held in her hands.
Sighing. "It's a letter I'm writing to Ivy" she gently tapped the letter on her bed. "Mom told me that I could write to tell her what's happening here. It'll be like a diary. I think I'll call it 'What's up Ivy,'" she said with self-approval.
I was relieved because it seemed like a great solution. "Sounds like a great plan," I said, smiling at the teenager. "Now, let's go," I urged.
When we arrived at the Cooper's house, Mom, for some reason, disappointed that she couldn't cook, knocked on the front door. A few seconds later, Mr. Cooper opened the door to greet us. "Hi, nice to meet you. I'm Amy Duncan; I met your wife the day we moved in," Mom introduced herself.
"Nice to meet you too, I'm George Cooper. Please come in," Mr. Cooper said, leading the way into his house.
Handing over a pack of beers. "Bob Duncan, I brought these; didn't want to come empty-handed" Bob said, shaking hands with the other man.
Smiling broadly as he looked at the beers in his hand. "Great" Mr. Cooper said excitedly.
After the adults and Teddy introduced themselves, we entered the house.
When I came for Gabe the first time, I noticed that there were only two available chairs at the table, so I wasn't surprised to see the three younger children sitting at a small table next to the main one. Gabe and Missy seemed happy, chatting with each other, but Sheldon looked very upset. "Mom, I want sit at the adult table. That's my spot," he said, pointing out that there would be an extra seat at the adult table, as he called it.
"You can't sit at the adult table because you're still a crying baby," Missy quickly replied.
"Yeah, you're afraid of birds; you can't sit with the adults if you're not an adult," Gabe added.
"Missy Cooper! Don't bother your brother," Mrs. Cooper scolded her daughter.
"You too, Gabe, behave," mom added immediately afterwards.
"But Mom, I have better manners than Georgie at the table, it's so unfair that he can sit there, and I can't," Sheldon said again in a high-pitched tone.
Seeing her husband, who just shrugged, not knowing what to say or how to help, Mrs. Cooper sighed. "Alright, Shelly, come here."
Taking his cutlery and plate carefully, Sheldon found his own place in one of the corners of the table, sat down, and with a satisfied look, he smiled at his sister. "Who's the baby now?" he asked petulantly.
Surprisingly coordinated, Gabe and Missy said at the same time, "You!" and continued their conversation.
Smiling stiffly, obviously embarrassed by what had happened. "Please, have a seat wherever you like," Mrs. Cooper said.
The woman, who had quickly let go of the embarrassing moment, was sitting between her husband and her eldest son, who throughout the interaction had not stopped looking at Teddy, completely mesmerized. Finally my sister noticed, and feeling uncomfortable she took a small step, hiding behind me
"Thank you, and nice to meet you, by the way. I'm Bob Duncan; we hadn't met before," Bob said, shaking Mrs. Cooper's hand and taking a seat next to Sheldon.
I let Teddy sit next to him, and I sat at the other end of the table, in front of Mr. Cooper, who was at the head. "Let Mrs. Duncan sit here, Georgie," Mrs. Cooper urged her son to move seats.
"Amy, please" mom corrected her, "how have you been? We haven't talk since we moved in," she added, taking the seat that Georgie had vacated.
Now facing Teddy, the teenager had even less trouble staring at my sister.
"Oh, we've been great," Mrs. Cooper replied gratefully, "but how are you all? Gabe was telling us that PJ hurt himself during the move," she added with concern, "how is everything?" She glanced at me.
"Everything is fine" Mom replied with relief. "PJ didn't have any serious injuries, just a minor memory loss. But we hope he'll recover soon. According to the doctor, it's uncommon, but this these memory lapses are usually temporary," Mom said with a calm smile.
"Actually, data shows that there's a 79.5% chance he'll never recover his memory" Sheldon declared nonchalantly. "Studies even demonstrate that memory loss due to trauma can lead to mental issues in the long run," he added quickly, still without a trace of worry or embarrassment on his face.
A sudden silence fell as the people outside the Cooper family looked at the well-dressed boy, perplexed.
"Sheldon Cooper, apologize right now, young man!" Mary shouted, suddenly upset with her younger son.
He opened his eyes in disbelief; he obviously didn't seem to understand what he had done wrong. "But I'm not lying; it's what the numbers say" He defended himself, offended.
It seemed like Mrs. Cooper was about to explode again, while Mr. Cooper hid behind his beer, smiling sheepishly at Bob.
Thanks to all the noise around him. Finally snapping out of his trance regarding my sister. "He's adopted, admit it," Georgie said.
Frowning at his brother, Sheldon shook his head in disappointment. "How can I be adopted when I have a twin sister? Think, monkey, think," he petulantly replied.
"That's enough; no one is adopted," Mrs. Cooper said, pointing first at her eldest son. "And young man, I thought I told you to apologize," she said, now accusingly looking at her younger son, causing Sheldon's face to scrunch up in disbelief.
"It's alright, Mrs. Cooper. No harm done. He is right; it's what the numbers say. But I feel positive; I highly doubt the impact affected my brain," I quickly said, trying to calm Mrs. Cooper with a smile, which seemed to ease her a bit as she noticed my indifference.
Unfortunately, the calm I had generated was erased upon seeing the expression of his youngest son, who was smiling brazenly.
Raising an eyebrow, Mrs. Cooper nodded, annoyed with her son again. "If If I hear any other fact during dinner, there will be no 'Doctor Troton' for a week," Mrs. Cooper said, annoyed, pointing again at Sheldon.
With a vacant stare, the little boy opened his mouth in complete disbelief. "But-"
"Ah" Mrs. Cooper raised her face defiantly, "Did I made myself clear?."
Sheldon looked like he was about to explode; I didn't know him well enough yet, but I could imagine he wanted to protest. Finally, he decided on the best course of action, nodding stiffly. "Yes, ma'am."
"Good" the woman said, smiling, seemingly ignoring the awkward moment "now let's pray. Missy Cooper, come here," she said firmly, pointing to the space between her husband and herself.
Seeing what was happening. "You too, Gabe, come here" Mom quickly said.
Gabe puzzled, approach the table. While one by one, guided by Mrs. Cooper held hands, except for Sheldon, who took a pair of woolen gloves. "Just a moment, please," he said as he put them on.
Mr. Cooper seemed exasperated, but his embarrassment won out, and with a sheepish smile, he took his gloved son's hand.
With everyone holding hands, the Cooper family closed their eyes. "Thank you, God, for this meal we're about to receive and for the nourishment of our bodies" she said. "Bless the hands that prepared it."
As the Cooper family kept their eyes closed, we weren't quite sure what we were supposed to do. Looking at each other we remained in respectful silence until, in unison, the Coopers said. "Amen."
A second later we began eating as the children returned to their table.
As everyone ate, there was a lot of silence; no one said anything while chewing their food. Georgie, still staring at Teddy, absentmindedly ate his mashed potatoes, making a mess of his face in the process.
"So, George, what do you do for a living?" Bob asked, breaking the ice.
"I'm the football coach at Medford High School," Mr. Cooper replied.
"Oh, really? PJ will start there on Monday," a surprised Amy said. "Maybe he can try out for the team," she added, looking at me with hope.
"Do you like football, PJ?" Mr. Cooper asked skeptically. "Georgie will also go to Medford, and he'll try out. Maybe you can try out together," he said, a little loudly, getting his son's attention and giving him a stern look.
Finally, someone else had noticed.
Snapping out of his daydream. "Ah, sure, we can try out together," he said nodding slightly in my direction.
"My Shelly is a bit advanced for his age, so he'll also start high school on Monday with all of you" Mrs. Cooper said with pride. "I'm glad he won't only have Georgie to look after him but also PJ."
Opening her eyes, impressed "High School?" mom asked, "well congratulations, Sheldon. You must be excited."
"Oh I am," Sheldon said, nodding enthusiastically. "I can't wait to enter the palace of knowledge, everyone will be much more mature than in elementary school," he added hopefully, making all the adults and me look at him worried.
"I'm also excited, I guess. Starting at a new school will be like starting from scratch, almost literally," I chuckled a bit.
"And what about you, Georgie? Aren't you excited for your freshman year? That's a big deal," Mrs. Cooper asked.
"How can I be excited when he'll be in the same grade as me?" Georgie pointed to his younger brother.
"Relax, Georgie, I don't plan on staying in ninth grade for long," the youngest one replied calmly.
"All I know is that he won't be in the same grade as me anymore, and I love that, isn't that right, Gabe?" Missy said, speaking from the kids' table.
"No, I would have loved to see him freaking out, making fake bird noises," Gabe mocked Sheldon.
"Well, good luck with your finger paintings," Sheldon retorted, trying to playfully return the joke.
"You're gonna get your ass kicked in high school," affirmed Missy.
"Or worse," Gabe said, smiling sinisterly.
I couldn't help it, and a laugh escaped me due to the whole situation. Teddy, infected by my laughter, also laughed, making the laughter spread around the table, except for Mrs. Cooper, who, upon seeing Missy, shouted, "Hey, language!"
Realizing that she should also say something since Gabe was teasing Sheldon. "Gabe, stop bothering Sheldon; he's a very tender boy. No one will bully him" mom said.
"Yes, no one's going to mug me, like I said, High School is a haven for higher learning," Sheldon said, as if stating the obvious.
"Oh dear god," said Mr. Cooper.
"Oh dear god indeed," Bob affirmed quietly.
"Ah, high school, remember, Bob, when we were in school? I was the famous, the acclaimed Whammy the Ram, and you were a great basketball player. Those were the days; South High was a great school. The kids would have gone there, maybe Teddy would have inherited Whammy's legacy," Mom said, starting to tear up a bit. "I'm sorry, where's your bathroom, Mary?" she asked, beginning to cry and following the direction Mrs. Cooper had pointed.
Noticing, like everyone else, how uncomfortable the atmosphere in the dining room had become. "She's been very sad about the move" Bob tried to explain. "Every time she remembers something, she starts crying, so I hope you can be her friend, Mary."
"Of course, Bob, you don't have to worry. I'll be a great friend to Amy, and God help me if we can't resolve her sadness," Mrs. Cooper declared resolutely.
"Bob, I didn't ask what you do for a living," Mr. Cooper said.
As if asked a profound question, Bob straightened in his seat. "I'm a pest control specialist" he said.
Sheldon surprised, turned his head upon hearing Bob's words. "Oh, that's very interesting. Question, do you deal with any kind of pests? And if so, can chickens be considered pests?" Sheldon asked.
"Yes, I'm the best at whatever my job involves. And no, I don't think chickens are considered pests," Bob responded immediately.
Disappointed Sheldon lowered his head in defeat, only to raise it again a second later. "What about dogs? Dogs are dirty; they eat from the garbage," he said, hoping for a positive response.
"I'm sorry, son, but dogs are definitely not considered pests."
Now, completely disappointed. "Well, I tried" Sheldon said.
"So, pest control, I've heard about the pest problem in the town. Was that why you moved?" Mr. Cooper asked.
"Yes, a friend of mine had his own company here, but he couldn't keep up with the amount of work in the restaurants and hotels around the cities. So, he offered me a partnership, and before we knew it, we're here with a big company," Bob replied, raising his beer bottle in a jovial toast.
"Well, thank God for that," Mrs. Cooper responded, "It's thanks to that opportunity that we now know each other," she concluded with a big smile.
"True," Mom said suddenly, having returned from crying in the bathroom, "Thank God," she repeated.
"Speaking of God, who will come to church with me tomorrow?" Mrs. Cooper asked.
"I can't," Mr. Cooper quickly responded, "I'm meeting with the other coaches."
"And can't you meet after church?" she asked with a clearly forced smile.
"No, Mary, I can't meet after church," Mr. Cooper answered, exasperated, as he cut a piece of meat on his plate.
Slightly annoyed by her husband's response, Mrs. Cooper turned to the next in line in her family, "Georgie?"
"I've got to study my playbook," the teenager replied, winking at his proud father.
Mrs. Cooper, this time feeling defeated, fixed her gaze on her plate, making the guests at the table uncomfortable, except for Teddy, who had been chatting with Missy about unimportant things for a few minutes.
"I'll go with you, Mom," Sheldon said when he noticed that no one would accompany his mother.
This cheered up Mrs. Cooper, and the atmosphere at the table relaxed a bit.
"Why are you going, though? You don't believe in God," Missy suddenly said from her seat at the kids' table.
"No, but I believe in Mom," Sheldon proudly replied.
"I'll take that," Mrs. Cooper said happily. "Missy?" she asked, "I can't. Teddy and I were going to-"
"You're going" Mrs. Cooper didn't let her finish. "Besides, Teddy will probably also go to church, right?" she asked, focusing on mom.
"No, actually, we don't go to church" Bob replied, "since well... since our wedding day?", he asked mom.
"Yes, the last time we were in a church was on our wedding day."
With a small gasp of surprise, Mrs. Cooper's eyes widened, and avoiding mom's worried look, she lowered her head and continued eating.
The dinner after that proceeded normally. George and Bob were the ones who talked the most, promising to watch the upcoming football games together and maybe have a barbecue someday. And after getting through the awkward moment of being a non-religious family Mom and Mary shared memories of their youth and events from that time, also promising to meet up for coffee sometime.
On the other hand, we only spoke a bit among ourselves. Me and Georgie didn't have much in common, but being in the same school year and promising to study together for tests gave us a few topics to talk. Georgie continued to throw furtive glances at Teddy throughout the night, who continued talking to Missy about teenage things. Missy was the one asking most of the questions.
Feeling excluded by his sister and new friend, Gabe started reading a comic that was quite crumpled, probably kept in one of his pockets.
Late into the night, Sheldon said, "Mom, it's time to start the bedtime routine. Can I leave the table?" he asked with his characteristic petulant tone.
Mary checked her wristwatch. "Look at the time" she said surprised, "Missy Cooper, it's time to brush your teeth and take a shower. We have to go to church early tomorrow."
Seeing that the Coopers had to prepare for sleep, the Duncans got up from their seats and said goodbye to the family.
I was already lying in my bed, waiting for Gabe to turn off the bedroom light.
"Why are your guitars on my bed?" Gabe asked, standing in the doorway in his pajamas.
"I decided that being in a new state, I could start as a new me. So if you want them, they're yours," I calmly explained to my brother.
He seemed surprised by the gesture. Holding one of the guitars to inspect it closely. "Really?" he asked "They're yours, and you never let me touch them" he said incredulous.
"I'm serious, well, only if you want them they're yours. If not, I could sell them and get some cash" I said, shrugging my shoulders. "So, what do you say? It would be like a family tradition" I added, huffing. "I had a band, and today we learned that Dad had one too. Now it's your turn to start a band someday."
I couldn't see Gabe's face; he was sitting on the other side of the bed with one of the guitars in his lap. Carefully, he set them one by one next to his bed and without turning to look at me. "Thanks" he murmured. Then turned off the lamp and went to bed.
"You're welcome," I said as I closed my eyes for a good night's sleep.
The next day, after having breakfast, I approached Bob, who was watching television from the couch in the living room. "Dad, can we go get a haircut for me?" I asked.
Bob seemed extremely surprised by the question. "Your hair? You're going to cut your hair? You?" he asked incredulously.
"Yes, I was thinking that I'd like a new haircut and maybe some new clothes too, to start school tomorrow as a new me," I replied without being entirely sure.
"Well, if you say so," he said, turning off the TV and getting up from the couch. "Let's go quickly before your mom or Teddy hear that we're going shopping," he said, guiding me through the living room to the front door to leave.
At the mall, inside the barbershop, the barber was cutting my hair while an old basketball game played on the television. "You have good hair, kid, but you need to wash it better. If you keep mistreating it, it won't be long before you end up like your father," the barber said.
"Hey, the Duncan mane has always been a problem for the men in the family. No matter how much you take care of your hair, the genes are much stronger. In fact, I'm surprised that PJ doesn't have any bald spots yet. At his age, my father had already given me my first cap," Bob said, mocking his attempt to intimidate his son.
"Well, if you want to prove that theory wrong, son, use this shampoo, and everything will be fine," the barber said, handing me a bottle.
After leaving the barbershop and on our way to the discount store on the mall's second floor, Bob seemed annoyed. "That shampoo won't work, PJ. You just allowed that man to rip you off," he said.
"Well, Dad, I have nothing to lose by trying it. Anyway, the price of the bottle isn't much higher than the regular shampoo prices, and I needed to buy more. I had very little left," I said, trying to make him understand my point. I'd do everything I could to avoid going bald.
"Alright, you're right. Just remember not to get your hopes up. I've tried everything, and look at me now," he said, pointing to his head with a smile. We took the escalators and quickly reached the second floor, heading towards the store.
Inside the discount store, I found everything I needed, good-quality clothes at a spectacular price. It was the nineties.
I bought new shoes, shirts, pants and a wristwatch that was hidden among the shelves, with a great discount in it. It seemed that either the store employees or another customer had hidden it there, intending to buy it later.
Leaving the store Bob was telling me about a new species of termite he had read about in a magazine called, Pest Control Specialists, as he referred to it. When we reached the stairs to go down, they were packed with people, as it seemed everyone decided to leave the mall at the same time.
A few steps below us, there was an elderly woman with a bag full of groceries. Suddenly, the bag burst open, and as she tried to catch the things that were escaping, she accidentally pushed a man who stumbled, triggering a chain reaction that led to a crowd collapsing.
Screams and cries filled the place. Fortunately, no one seemed extremely hurt, or at least that's what it looked like from the vantage point of the mall's second floor.
People who were already downstairs rushed to help those who had fallen last.
Determined, Bob and I moved to help with the efforts. I helped lift people, including the woman who had lost her groceries. She was in distress, blaming herself for the chaos. "Oh my God, what have I done? It's all my fault," she said with great concern.
"Please, ma'am, everything is fine. There's nothing to worry about. Nobody was seriously hurt," I tried to reassure her, but it was a lie so she wouldn't get even more upset, I had no idea.
"Help! We need a doctor over here!" someone suddenly yelled close to me.
As I approached a growing crowd of people I found, in the middle a teenager lying on the floor, sweating and in great pain, as his face indicated. Beside him, was a broken cane, and there was a blood stain on his shirt, near the pleural cavity*.
"It's a tension pneumothorax*," I whispered almost unconsciously as someone lifted his shirt to see what was happening. He had a wound just below his chest, and with every breath, it filled with bubbles.
People, obviously frightened, tried to press on the wound of the young man lying on the floor, who suddenly started breathing rapidly and gasping for short periods of air. Nobody seemed to know what to do.
I immediately knew what was happening. "He's having an asthma attack!" I shouted quickly. "He must have an inhaler!" The people attending to him searched his clothes and found a broken inhaler in his pants.
Darn it! If nothing is done, he will die from the pressure in his chest, and the ambulance might not arrive in time. He needs a chest drain to relieve the pressure and seal the hole. I won't be able to get one here.
I felt panic starting to take over again; the air was becoming scarce, and all the noise from the people sounded like I was underwater.
Someone else is going to die, and I won't be able to help.
My fists were clenched tightly when suddenly, a nail pierced my skin, snapping me out of my trance. Looking down at my hands, out of the corner of my eye I saw a plastic.
Wait. I CAN do something.
I quickly picked up the tube and ran to a nearby craft store, a few shops from the accident. I borrowed some adhesive tape and rushed back to the injured teenager.
"Excuse me, let me pass," I said, pushing away the people who were around the site.
Kneeling beside the teenager, I could see better how much pain he was letting show on his face. That was enough to make me forget any doubts I had. Immediately and carefully, I cut a piece of plastic and taped it to the young man's chest, creating a makeshift valve to regulate the pressure and air inside his lungs.
As I waited, everyone around me was silent. Then, suddenly...
"Huhf, huhf," the young man cough. Breathing, still with difficulty, but looking a lot better.
Patting my shoulder. "Incredible, kid," said the man beside me, the same one that was putting pressure on the wound before and that I probably pushed without realizing it in my state of concentration. "What's your name?"
Turning my attention back to the people around me, I immediately felt everyone's gaze and with my brain cooled down from the adrenaline rush, I could only keep my mouth foolishly open. "PJ, sir," I finally said, mentally exhausted as I moved away from the excited man.
"You did well, kid. Where did you learn that?" someone asked.
"I read it in a comic," I lied, recalling Gabe's comic books.
"In a comic!" the man exclaimed, surprised. "What comic could teach you..." he was saying but someone interrupted him.
"The paramedics have arrived. Clear the way," another voice said.
Taking advantage of the distraction, I slipped away, walking among people trying not to be seen.
I had moved far enough away from the crowd when someone stopped me, holding my shoulders. "PJ, there you are! Are you okay? Did you get hurt?" Bob said, panting.
Coming out of the trance caused by the surprise. "Don't worry, Dad, everything's fine," I said. "Now, let's go home." I took the bags the man was carrying.
"Okay, let's get out of here. Let the professionals do their job," Bob said, pointing to the firefighters and paramedics in the area.
In the car, on our way home, I lowered the volume of the music in the old van. "Dad, I remembered something I wanted to ask you," I said.
"Go ahead," Bob said jovially.
"Do we have money problems?" The question seemed to surprise Bob, as he suddenly jerked the steering wheel, causing the van to shake.
"No, no, what makes you think that?" he asked, alarmed.
"Well, we bought my clothes at the discount store," I said.
Bob burst out laughing, "Oh, PJ, not at all! We don't have any financial problems" he assured me, "with the sale of the house in Colorado, my new job, and your mom's job, we can live comfortably for quite a while. Sure, some extra income wouldn't hurt, but we're okay, son. You don't have to worry about that," he said, patting my now stylish hair. "If we bought your clothes there, it's because I like to save money."
Feeling more at ease with his response, I turned up the music volume again. I would like to be able to earn more money for my family, but how? Surely, there must be an easy way to make money, especially for someone like me who has a rough idea of what will happen in the future, I thought as I gazed out the window, and then...
"RadioShack" I read it as we passed by the store.
I knew how I would make money.
...
Glossary
*Pleural Cavity: Space surrounded by the pleura, which is a thin layer of tissue that covers the lungs and lines the inner wall of the thoracic cavity.
*Tension Pneumothorax: This occurs when there is a valvular mechanism that allows air to enter the pleural cavity during inspiration but does not allow it to escape during expiration.
...
Author's thoughts
Here ends another chapter. Again, I'm not a doctor, and I don't know how many things worked in America in the 90s.
No one commented on where I got the idea for Oliver in the previous chapter, so the prize doubles (again, there's no prize, so double zero is still zero). The new clue is in this chapter: Where did I get the idea of the young boy with asthma?
Now, I would like to clarify a few things. This chapter is probably filled with information that may not be interesting to you, the readers, but I'm adding it to have more substantial content and not just filler.
There will be three major arcs (which may be subdivided): adolescence (high school), medical school, and the stage as a doctor. These arcs will have their own appearances from series and/or movies (If you have any recommendations, I'm all eyes [Is that a tired joke, right?]). Therefore, the story will have many chapters and may be slow at some points (but not boring, I hope).
Will there be romance in the story? Yes, there will be, but it might not appear until later, possibly in the second or third arc. Again, to clarify from the synopsis, there won't be a Harem, but possibly there won't be just one relationship throughout the story (only one woman per relationship).
If any information I provided in today's chapter is incorrect, I hope you forgive me and let me know so I can check if it needs correction.
Thanks for your power stones (I need more, MORE!!!) and for those who keep my story in their library.
Oh, and I'm preparing a Discord (I'm very new to that application, but I saw other authors doing it, so I don't want to be left behind), and I'm looking for people who want to moderate the server (obviously, there's no pay, but you'll be compensated with a false sense of power).
That's all for now. Thank you for reading, and if you find any errors, please let me know so I can correct them.
PS: Getting closer to 15k words. Excitement :D.
Edit: I forgot to mention that the Cooper's table in the original series is for 6 people (you can see it in the first episode of Young Sheldon). I extended it by two more seats for the sake of the plot.
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July 12, 2026
Edited