21
The Two Watches

 

Dogboy looks up at the assembled puppets, still unsure if he’s dreaming or dead. He smiles beneath his mask then dives away from the fire ice shooting out the Andrus puppet’s cane.

He shoots an orange blast from his palm. It hits the Andrus puppet, melting it down until it’s a pile of goo on the stage.

His puppet parents tower over him. The magician throws an oversized handkerchief at Dogboy. It wraps around him, pinning his arms to his sides. He concentrates. His orange aura burns the cloth away.

His mother plucks him off the stage, pinching the loose material from his t-shirt between her thumb and four-fingers. Even though her features are simple, all he sees is his mother’s face. The love in her eyes.

“I won’t do this, Willowwood,” he says to the monocle floating below him. “I’m not your toy, and I’m tired of you lying about my dad.”

“Don’t be silly, D.B.,” Willowwood says from the ether. “You’ve been my plaything for years now. You are no fun these days. What happened to that silly little boy who ran around throwing knifes at people?”

Willowwood reappears then waves his hand. Dogboy flies back into his seat, his bonds snaking around his arms. “Perhaps a writer could shed some light on your father’s motives. Willowwood, are you back there?”

Willowwood vanishes again then walks out from behind the puppet theater to thunderous applause. “Please, please. Sit down,” he says to the empty seats. “Young man, you have the character of ‘The Magician’ down to a T. He does care about his family, but why would that make him to do such a horrible thing? I know my answer but I always say theater, even with puppets, only exists in the minds of the audience after the final bow. What do you think would make him do that?”

Dogboy thinks for a moment then gives with the only answer that makes sense. “Maybe he thought I’d be safer without him.”

Willowwood’s lips curl up into a smug smile. He taps his nose. “You get it,” he says, then points at Dogboy. “This kid gets it, folks” he says to the invisible audience.

“But why?” Dogboy says.

“Oh, come on. Isn’t it obvious?” Willowwood says. “Remember his catch phrase? ‘We make our own luck’? He wanted you to have what he never did: options. You see he lost the ability to steer his destiny. His life was as scripted as our little play here. You see where that got him.”

“How do you choose something like that?” Dogboy asks. His chains fall away and he approaches the stage.

“Those little superpowers there ain’t free, honey. That’s why you’re here. Daddy’s balance is due. Your dad thought he had a loophole all figured out. Like he could get one over on me. Can you imagine? What a silly, silly think he thought.”

“What’s the price?” Dogboy says. He decides he’ll keep Willowwood talking until there’s an opportunity to attack.

“Ah, ah,” Willowwood says with a wag of his finger. “Don’t be a sneaky Pete or your going right back in that seat. The price? It’s nothing. Less than nothing. More of a prize than a price if anything. Three options. One chance. I dare you to make a better choice than your father did.” Willowwood holds out three pocket watches. The one on the left is standard: numbers, hands, and ticking. The middle one has hundred little dials on its surface to display more advanced information like humidity. The last watch face is blank: no number, no hands.

“I’ll take that dare,” Dogboy says, reaching out for the watch with no face.

“Careful, D.B. They each come with a catch. Two will take you back,” he says, holding up the two working watches in front of Dogboy. “The one you nearly grabbed will trap you here forever. Not that I’m steering you away from that one. You could join our troupe. I think you’d make a great puppet personally.

“No thanks,” Dogboy said. “So what’s the difference between the other two?”

“The basic model will take you back to your friend with your powers fixed. Maybe I’ll even throw in a bonus or two. It’s the least I can do after all the trouble they’ve been causing you. After that, you live your life, take the punches as they come, and more or less ‘make your own luck’ like Daddy would have wanted.”

Willowwood hands Dogboy the more advanced model. Dogboy squints to read the labels above the many dials but he can’t read the Cyrillic script.

“This one does the same thing, but your ‘flash forwards’ will become something different. You’ll still get visions of things before they happen, but you won’t be able to change any of it even if you want to. No more surprises, but no way to change it.”

“Well, that’s easy then,” Dogboy says. “What kind of superhero would I be if I couldn’t stop bad stuff from happening? I’ll take the first one.”

“Ah, there’s that adorable little independent spirit. What if I throw in a bonus with the one in your hands? Something to grease the wheels.”

“Like what?” Dogboy says.

“Before I send you back, powers intact, I’ll help you turn back the clock,” Willowwood says. He takes the watch from Dogboy, pulls out the crown, then winds it counterclockwise. “Your parents will live. You’ll never come to Colta City. You’ll be happy again.”

“You can do that? What kind of magic do you have anyway?”

“Oh, the best. The kind that would break your flimsy little brain if I tried to explain it. But maybe I’m asking you to choose between the two watches too soon. These things take time to process.” Willowwood tosses the blank watch over his shoulder then hands Dogboy the remaining timepiece. “Take these for a week or two and think on it. I’ll show up whenever you’re ready.”

“What about my powers?” Dogboy says. “I’m guessing those don’t get fixed until I decide.”

“No, I’m in a giving mood today. I’ll even throw in the upgrades.” Willowwood snaps his fingers, and they’re back in Old California, caught in another frozen second: Blaze is asleep in the trough; Hot John is preparing to strike Cindy.

“Gosh, looks like a great opportunity to try them out,” Willowwood says.

“What about the upgrades you mentioned? How do I use them?” Dogboy says.

“Find the right words and your enemies will be yours to command,” Willowwood says as he ascends. “If all else fails, take a deep breath and count to ten. Or picture the audience in their pajamas. Speaking of pajamas… You’ll find the watches on your bed when you get home. Do think it over, D.B. I’ll be back, and I’ll be watching. Toodle-oo.”

Time began again, and the color ran back into the world. Dogboy tensed his muscles, ready to strike.

“Don’t move a muscle, you stupid crook,” he said as he ran towards Hot John. “I’ve been dreaming about this forever.”

 

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