The crowd's breathy murmurs echoed within the walls as they moved to the tall mahogany doors at the rear of the courtroom:

"Barb, somethings wrong with Judge Flerny. The bailiff hadn't dismissed the courtroom before she hurried off the bench to her chambers. It's so out of character for her..."

"Oh, I do agree Margie! Then, her babbling on to the defendant about her, saving his inner soul? I couldn't follow a single word..."

"I don't know about you two ladies, but it scared the by-jeepers out of me when she jumped to her feet like a spung jack-in-the-box. I took liberties to follow her gaze. Well, you ladies know as well as I do the back of that courtroom was as empty as a playground in a rainstorm. If I didn't know any better, I'd say the woman's well on her way to full blown insanity..."

"My dear sir! I have never in my eighty-years heard such nonsense. Haven't you all heard that the woman's health is on the decline again. I heard she almost passed when she was just a little thing. A growth deep inside, permanent, I heard."

The Bailiff locked-up behind the crowd and paused at Flerny's chamber door.
"You, okay?"

"Yeah, just tired, Joe. Thanks for asking. Hey Joe? Did you happen see that little girl standing in the back of the courtroom this morning?"

"No, I didn't. Is she a relative, or something?"

"Yeah, a relative - or something?"

"You sure you're, okay?"

"No, I'm not sure, Joe. I think I need to take some time off. Would you be able to clear all my cases with Judge Tressa this week?"

"Good as done."

Flerny tapped her nails on the desk while her ring-back tone burred and clicked. "Yes, good morning... Is Blaine Gower available...? Tell him Flerny Boise...? Yes, thank you." She switched her phone to speaker and pulled her hair into a lose bun at the back of her head. Hm, I wonder if he knows their playing eighties heavy metal for his MOH? Ah, Guns N' Roses, "Sweet Child O' Mine." How apropos.


"Flerny Boise! Is it really you?"

"Yes, Blaine it's really me."

Blaine pushed back in his chair and unbuttoned the bulging jacket of his blue pinstriped suit. "Geez, old girl, how long's it been? Thirty years or so?"

"Yes, I'm sure it's been all of that, old - boy."

"Yes, so, -" to what do I owe this honor? Your honor."

"I'll get right to the point. I know you're busy. Have you been experiencing any visions or weird dreams lately?"

"That's a strange opening question after all these years?"

"I know it is, but I have been and I'm pretty sure they all have something to do with Wintergreen?"

"Flerny...?

"I know this is all out of the blue, but hear me out..."

"Flerny, why can't you leave well enough alone. It's a buyer's market out there right now. I don't have time to reminisce with you about a made-up kids adventure that we had thirty years ago."

"I understand, but I think it's bigger than that."

"Flerny, why are you calling me with this? Why now?"

"You're going to think I've gone mad, but I keep seeing this little girl. Her face is so familiar. She motions for me to come with her, but as soon as I look away, she's gone. I feel like she's connected to this somehow." Flerny leaned forward in her chair. "Blaine, do you ever think about wintergreen? Do you ever wonder what really happened to us up there?"

"It was thirty years ago. I have a hard time thinking about something that happened thirty minutes ago. As for this little girl? She's probably homeless; and looking for a handout. Do yourself a favor. Treat the kid to dinner, give her a few bucks, and send her on her way."

"Blaine, what happened to us? What happened to our sense of enchantment? Our sense of fearlessness and adventure? All of those things that molded us as children have somehow become unplugged from our adulthoods."

"We grew up, Flerny. It's just that simple."

"Is it? Let me ask you, have you ever heard anyone talk about their inner child?"

"I've heard mention of it. You're not going to tell me you believe this inner child thing is real?"

"What if it is? What if our inner child controls the most intricate parts of our soul? The parts that are able to conjure up the perfect blend of adulthood and childhood? The part of our souls that need to be recognized and nurtured or it simply withers and dies."

"Flerny, you're watching to many Syfy movies. Hells-alive, woman! Would you please stop trying to make sense of this? Okay, I'm going to give you my take on all this weirdness. We were two, overly imaginative eight-year-old kids on a religious retreat. It's all a bit fuzzy, but I'd swear on my dog Charcoal's ashes that we were chaperoned by the flying nun, and a guy who thought that the priesthood was his personal gateway to holy superpowers. Don't you remember? The guy demanded we drop hard to our knees and recite the Rosary, every time a swear word came out of our mouths? I don't know about you, but the only thing I got out of that trip was double knee surgery and a worn-out Rosary. Don't you see, we were under stimulated. We conjured up wintergreen out of sheer boredom."

"Blaine, that can't be how you remember this."

"That's exactly how I remember it."

"Blaine, I had my doubts about that place too, but somethings happening there again. I can feel it. I think we need to go back."

"We? Not we..."

"Blaine? If what I have to say doesn't convince you to come back with me, I'll never mention it to you again."

"Flerny, I'm really busy..."

"I want you to think back as far as you can. It was deep winter in the Colorado mountains. We trudged in those snowshoes for what seemed like forever. I remember when we stumbled on that funnel of light; and how in awe we all were of it. The way the sky opened up and shown down onto that little patch of ground? Then, when we stepped through it, the air turned warm and sweet with the smell of butterscotch, and the trees and grass were as green and full of life as anything we had ever seen in mid-summer. How do you forget something like that?"

"Yeah, I remember that crazy light, but it was an anomaly. It was some kind of weather event, or something?"

"It wasn't an anomaly, or a weather event. Blaine, listen to me. I've never told anyone about this before now. When I looked through that funnel of light, she was staring at me from the other side. She was shivering. I remember her hands were clenched tight around the neck of her parka. All I could see were her eyes, but somehow - somehow, I knew I was looking at my adult self. She spoke to me. She told me; I was her inner child. She said, I was sick, and I needed to be there, and that someday, when I was ready, she'd come back for me. ''

"It's all too farfetched, Flerny. These kinds of things just don't happen. I'm going to say this to you as a concerned friend. Get this out of your head. None of it was real; and the sooner you accept that the better off you'll be..."

"But don't you see what's happening here Blaine? Hello?... Damn it, Blaine. I'm not sure I can do this alone. Flerny recognized the chirping sound of the playground swing and separated the shades to look across the street. That gate is locked...How'd that little girl get on the school playground? The girl took her hand from the swing chain and waved. Flerny drew back into the room with an empty stare. Images of how she looked and dressed as a child raced through her head. Holy mother of all saints ghostly. She raised her phone to her ear still stunned at the prospect that the little girl she's been seeing is her as a child. It was time to go back to Wintergreen. "Hi, yes, good afternoon - I'd like to book a morning flight to Colorado - Flerny...? Yes, I'm sorry... Boise... Flerny Boise."

Flerny tightened her grip as the throttled-back roar of the 747 descended to the tarmac.

"Flying jitters ma'am?" The man asked from the seat beside her.

"Am I that obvious?"

"Well, not to anyone else," but you were squeezing my wrist so hard that I believe I lost a bit of sensation," he said, spreading his fingers and then giving them a quick shake.

"It's not one of my strong suits."

"Ma'am?"

"I mean landing that is. I'm so sorry if I hurt you."

"It's all in a day's work ma'am. All in a day's work."

"Yes - well, again, I'm sorry. Oh, one more thing? Would you be able to tell me how far Copper Mountain is from here?"

"Copper? It's approximately a twenty-minute drive. Follow the road signs to I-70, and then to Vail and Copper." He swung his carry on in front of him. "Are you equipped for your hike, ma'am?" The man giving Flerny a once over.

"Yes, I am, but how did you know I was hiking?"

"Purely an assumption ma'am. Would it be forward of me to ask your final destination up the mountainside?"

Flerny eyed the man and pulled her bag from the overhead compartment. "Well, I suppose you could say, I'm on my way to a sick relative."

"Ah, I see. I'm sure she's anticipating your arrival."

"Pardon?"

"Don't sick children often look forward to visitors, ma'am?"

"Yes, but I don't recall mentioning..."

The man tipped his hat and smiled. "Ma'am, he said and edged his way into the aisle."





Blaine searched his desk looking for the paperwork on the Colorado demolition meeting he was scheduled to have in a few hours. He instantly thought about the phone conversation he had had with Flerny and wondered if he had been a little too hard on her.

"Good morning, Mr. Gower."

"Good morning Dedra?"

"I made your reservations..."

"Dedra? Have you seen the file on the Colorado office building demo?"

"Yes, I have them. As I was about to say: I made your reservations. You'll be flying out on Thursday morning. I covered your appointments until Tuesday of next week."

"Flying out? I thought this was a virtual meeting?"

"Well, it would have been, but apparently the entire executive floor of Subblock Demolition has come down with some type of virus. An internal disorder, as their secretary so thoroughly explained it."

"Colorado? internal disorders? What the hell. Is someone making voodoo dolls?"

"Did you say something, Mr. Gower?"

"No, nothing - why did they say they needed me there? I'd like to send Sammy..."

"They've requested you be there for the demo, and that you personally close the sale of the land with your client. He'll be on site."

Blaine nervously flipped through a folder on his desk.

"Is there something about Colorado you don't like, Mr. Gower?"

"Is there something about Colorado in particular I'm supposed to like, Dedra?"

"No, not really. Although, I did hear the mountains are pretty this time of year." Dedra closed the door behind her.

Of Course, you did. Someone is defiantly making voodoo dolls.



"Thanks for dropping me, Dedra. Make sure you hold the fort down."

"We'll be fine. Don't you worry."

"Okay, I'll be at the Blues terminal at three fifty on Tuesday."

Dedra chuckled, "I'm aware, I made your reservations remember."




Blaine through his carry on in the overhead compartment and plopped in his seat. I cannot believe I'm on a plane to Colorado. Of all places... It's okay. Just don't over think it. All those things were coincidence. You're going to do your job at the demo site, close the deal with your client, and be on the first flight out of there.

A boy dropped into the seat beside Blaine. "Hello mister!"

"Hey kid."

"My mom always tells me to keep strangers at the bay, but you look really nice mister. We should talk."

"At bay, kid."

"Huh?"

"Your mom told you to keep strangers at bay. My mother use to say the same thing to me. You're moms a wise woman. Talk is overrated anyway, kid." Blaine opened his brief case and pulled out the morning paper.

"I should tell you mister; in case you're getting ready to ask my name. My brother told me to never give away your name to a stranger, unless the stranger doesn't have one. In which case you could rent them yours for a ton of money. I'm not sure how much a ton is, but it sounds like way more than my Pok�??�?�©mon bank can hold?"

"Hey, do you have a name, mister?"

"Nice try kid, but yes, I have a name."

"Figured as much." The boy licked the palm of his hand and then wiped the blue sugar from a melted gumball onto the seat in front of him.

Blaine folded his paper to one side. "You're making a mess, kid. Please, put the gumball in your yap-socket and chew it. By the way kid, your brother sounds like a jughead."

"Yep, how do you know my brother, mister?"

"He kind of sounds like my brother when he was a kid. He was a jughead too."

The boy bit into the gumball and stared at the hollowed half, left in his hand. "Hey mister, do you think your outsides grow faster than your insides?"

"Now what kind of a question is that kid?" Blaine snaped his opened newspaper and went back to his reading.

"Well, what's your answer mister?"

"Sometimes there aren't any answers kid; just more questions."

"That's funny mister. That's what my doctor said to my mom about me."

Blaine shifted uneasily in his seat. "Why? Are you sick or something kid?"

"I guess...?"

"Kid, either you're sick or you're not. Which is it?" Blaine snaped his newspaper again.

"I heard the doctor talking to my mom. He said, "I was really sick inside;" something to do with crummysum damage. I told mom it's my fault because I ate a lot of crumbs off the floor when I was little. That really made her laugh, but then tears came down her face at the same time. It's funny how moms can cry and laugh at the same time - Isn't it, mister?"

"Yeah kid, it's funny how they can do that. Listen, don't be afraid kid. Sometimes sicknesses just stick with you. You know what I'm saying kid? untreatable like..."

"Hey, are you crying mister?"

"I'm not kid. High altitudes make my eyes water."

"Hm, well, if by chance you are crying. Mom says, I'm going to be fine someday soon. She said that my angels already set a place aside for me. A place where I won't have no more pain. Those angel people are pretty nice don't you think mister? I should have my mom hook you up with one. Hey, are you sure you're not crying mister?"

Blaine sniffed. "I'll be right back kid. I have to use the men's room before we land."

Blaine returned and laid his hand on the head rest of the boy's seat.
"Excuse me stewardess. The little boy that was sitting with me, have you seen him?"

"I wasn't aware anyone was sitting with you sir. Is he a relation?"

"No, I believe he's traveling alone."

"I'm sorry sir we're usually made aware of underage passengers traveling alone."

"Well, a little boy was sitting with me, and now he's not. So, someone better find him before we land."

"Please sir, there's no need to shout."

"Look, that kid was here;" sitting right here. Wait! The blue sugar? He wiped it on the seat."
"Sir, I don't see blue sugar anywhere."

"He wiped it there, I watched him! It's obvious that someone cleaned it, right?"

"Sir, are you feeling, okay? Would you like me to see if there's a doctor aboard?"

"What about the passenger list? Let me see the list."

"Sir, it's also my job to be familiar with the passenger list for this flight; it has no one occupying the seat next to you."

"That's impossible. That kid was..."

"Sir please, I'll have to ask you to sit down and fasten your seatbelt. If there are any further questions, you'll be more than welcome to discuss them with the captain after we unload."

"I know he was here..."

"Sir, please?"

"Alright, alright, but I'm not crazy," or am I? I hope that kid parachuted off this plane, because if he didn't; I just had a three-hour conversation with an empty seat. I have got to get off the weed.

Blaine pushed ahead of the exiting passengers to the edge of the jetway and craned his neck above the crowd. "Did anyone see a little boy on this flight?" He yelled. "I think he's around eight, or so. He has dirty-blonde hair, and these wild green eyes. A funny little turned up nose. Brown freckles, I think. Anyone? Anyone!" A few passengers glanced at Blaine worriedly and shook their heads. An older gentleman suggested strongly that he call security and insisted that Blaine stop pulling on people as if they were banana trees in a monkey cage.

Blaine pushed through the airport doors, looking bewildered. The disappearance of this kid, he thought, was a scene straight out of an episode of the Twilight Zone. He stretched his arm above his head. "Taxi," he yelled; and he followed with a short loud whistle. "Thirty-two-seventy, North Chestnut, please." Blaine paid the taxi driver and turned to watch a pickup truck driving unusually fast in his direction. A cloud of white dust curled high over the truck's cab, as it bounced to a stop beside him.
"Hey! you Blaine Gower? The man extended his arm out the truck window.

"Yes." Blaine swung at the pelting dust.

"Wow, that's a nasty cough Gower. I'll bet all this dust aint helping it. The man grabbed Blaine's hand and shook it with one jolting motion. "Anyway, I'm Shane Trenton. Pleasure."

"Ah, yes." Blaine still swinging at the lingering dust. "The supervisor of the demo crew, right?"

"Yep!"

"You're ever bit of what I imagined you'd be from our phone conversation."

"Yeah, I got all the good traits from my mother, the devil rest her soul. That's not excluding the one bulging eye and the patchy red chest hair. Oh, I got this mole on the back of my neck from her too - has a single hair growing out of it - must be six inches long by now. Wife says, it'd put you in mind of a black powder fuse trailing out of a quarter stick of dynamite. She says she'd like to strike a match to it one of these days to see if she can't do away with the big ugly thing once and for all." I gotta hope she's talking about the mole. Hm, you should lose that nervous little-girl-laugh round here Gower? Anyway, laugh aside, it seems like you might have some moxie. I mean you are here at a blasting site and all."

"Oh, well, thank you. I get the moxie from my..."

"Anyway Gower, you ever been to a demo before?"

"No, no I haven't."


"Well, not to worry. I'll be right there by your side. I'll have to tell you though, it probably took those poor saps months to build this place, but I'll have it down in less than ten minutes flat. No pun intended. The money is always better for the wreckers than the erectors. Don't you agree, Gower?"

"Sure, sure, of course. Whatever you say...?"

"What was that Gower? Damn truck radio! It's been acting up for over a year now! Volume on it is full blast, or nothing! Hold on a minute Gower." Shane punches the top of the dashboard. "It'll start up again in three minutes exactly. Damn thing has a schedule of its own. So, anyway, I wanted to tell you, your client is waiting for you in the site trailer. Yeah, twitchy little fella. Ha! Anyway, It's a few minutes up the road." Blaine slide into the passenger's side of Shane's truck.

"I hope you don't mind the walk, Gower. I'm really busy."

"Oh... no, not at all, good exercise and all that."

"Ha! I told you it come back on! Good thing you're out there. Look at your watch Gower. Three minutes right to the second. A good demo man always knows his equipment. We're going to bring 'er down in about an hour. Damn radio. It's not as loud when the truck is moving. See you there, Gower."

"Blaine cupped his hands around his mouth. "Trenton! You're a raging wacko!"

Shane hits the brakes and punches the dashboard hard. "What was that Gower?"

"Oh, I said, your radio. I can't hear you over your raging radio."

Shane stared at Blaine for a few seconds. "You know what? I like you Gower, you know how to take the good with the bad. Yep! we're going to get along just fine after all. Anyway, see you in an hour." Shane hit the gas, and fishtailed up the road, leaving a spray of pelting gravel.

Blaine rested a foot on the soggy metal step-up to the trailer. The door screeched against its dented hinges as Blaine forced it open to reveal his client seated in a tattered swivel chair in the corner of the room.

"Yeah, that doors a bit tricky."

"Ben, I'm so sorry about this. Let's get this deal buttoned up so we can get you out of this toilet bowl." Blaine clicked his pen open on the desk and handed it to Ben. "You sure you won't stay for the demolition, Ben?"

Ben jumped in the back of his limo and rolled the window to mid-way. "Call me when the rubbles cleaned up," he said, and the limo drove off.

Damn, why didn't I ask Ben for a ride? Blaine tapped a cigarette on his wrist and meandered up the dirt road leading to the demo site. A boy, suddenly popped out from behind a pickup and then shrunk back down.

What the hell! "Hey kid! Blaine circled the pickup. Don't play games. This place is about to get dangerous." That kid... nah, it can't be? If it is him, he's some kind of tiny magician? Blaine wheeled around every few steps and looked from side to side. Damn, I need to start seeing my shrink again.


"Detonations are all set, Gower." Shane looked up and opened his arms above his head. "Kaboom!"

"Yeah, yeah, Kaboom." Hey, are you sure no one can get in here?"

"You the paranoid type, Gower?"

"No, no. I thought I saw a boy...?"

"Don't be preoccupied with the Impossible, Gower. Everything is closed off within a three-block circumference. No one gets in - no one gets killed. It's set in stone, no pun intended."

"Yes, yes, Of Course, just forget it."

"Already forgotten," Shane radioed the crew. "Final check, boys!"

"All clear in and out, boss."

"Copy that, blaster master. Ha! I love calling him that."

"Why so serious, Gower? Relax, have a blast. I have a million of those."

"Yeah, great."

"You're a tough crowd, Gower." Shane shifted his attention to the detonation box.
"Okay, detonation on the North side, in ten. Siren sounds at ten minutes, five minutes, and one minute. Let's find that footprint boys," he said into the radio. The high-pitched scream of the siren shook Blaine's insides.
"You can take your fingers out of your ears now, Gower."

"Holy mother of... Why was that so loud?"

"You know what we say in the blasting circle, Gower? If the siren aint scaring the diapers off your deaf grandma, it aint doing its job."

"Is that what they really say?"

"Nope! Five-minute siren, Gower. Fingers?"

Blaine looked up at the entrance of the building. "Shane, wait, that kid I told you about? I just saw him plain as day. He's in that building."

"That's impossible, Gower."

"I'm going in there!"

"Gower, stop! You're going to get yourself killed. The blasting has already started on the North side. That building is crumbling as we speak."

Blaine pulled away from Shane's hold and ran through the entrance. "Kid! This isn't a game. This building is about to come down."

The boy stepped out from the darkness.

"What are you doing here, kid? Are you suicidal, or something?"

"I thought you might want this, mister?" The boy held out his hand.

"Kid, can we do this in a safer place..."

"Take it, mister." The boy opened Blaine's hand.

"It's my missing cufflink. How, kid. How'd you get this? It's been lost for more years than you've been alive."

"I found it in the snow."

"Where kid? Where'd you find it in the snow?"

"At wintergreen."

"Wintergreen? How'd you know about... you're lying kid someone put you up to this, right?"

"Do you remember when you reached through the light and touched my face, mister? You said, "touching me made you feel like a whole person again." I felt that too. Then, I asked you to take me with you, and you pulled your hand away. You told me, "I wasn't real." You said, "none of what you were seeing was real."

Blaine fell to his knees. "I was going to take you kid, but when I looked at you and saw all the rest of those sick kids. All of them staring at me... I became overwhelmed with fear. So, I ran, kid. I'm sorry I left you there. I'm sorry!"

The loud crack of a support beam echoed above their heads as wires and twisted mesh broke through the concrete ceiling. "Kid, we have to get out of here." Blaine tightened his hold around the boy's waist. Chunks of rubble rolled over Blaine's shoes and hit against his legs. As he ran through the entrance and into daylight; he watched the boy's body steadily melt into his own. Inches beyond the perimeter of the safety wall, Blaine collapsed to his side. His empty arms left crossed over his torso. It was in those seconds; that Blaine felt the healing warmth of the boy's blood burst into his veins, and the steady rhythm of the child's heart, beat against his own.