"It's strange how things change" thought Oliver Clarc. For a while now he could swear his mothers house in Kansas had started to smell more and more like the hugs he used to get from his late grandma as a kid; a hint of lavender, old paper, and a sweet roasted smell that lingered in the undertones probably from some pot of food she cooked that day, and less of the sanitizing scents of bleach and other cleaners he remembered growing up. Tonight though, the air smelled stale, like the house itself was holding its breath this whole past year.
Oliver's mother Claire, stood at the base of the stairs in her husband's old plaid robe with her long white hair up in a loose bun. "Don't stay out there all night" she gestured at the door to the garage Oliver was headed to. She looked smaller than he remembered, finally seeing with his own eyes how much this last year had weighed on her as well. "It's late Ollie", He winced. "You know I hate when people call me that." He hated how young it made him feel when she used that name, like no time had passed, like the world hadn't taught him just how cruel it could be." I'm your mother," she said gently. " You'll survive." "debatable," he said but without much bite." I just want to go through some of Dads old stuff, I won't be long mom."
Claire's soft green eyes tightened at the corners, " you've been doing that a lot lately." "Yeah well you boxed it up and put it out there. I just figured someone's gotta go through it, you know, for historians sake or something," Oliver jokingly retorted. With a slight smile Claire's eyes traveled down to her son's wrist. "Still wearing your dads watch, I thought it broke?", "it's still right twice a day I don't see a reason to put it away." Claire stared at her son with a concerned frown. "I've been planning to get it fixed mom I've just been... busy." She walked over and brushed her son's cheek for a brief moment " don't stay out there too long okay? It's supposed to drop below freezing tonight." "I won't mom, sorry to worry you". Claire watched as her son moved through the back door to the outside garage with a little worry in her heart. She turned around and went back to her room.
The overhead light in the garage was starting to go out, not exactly flickering but it would randomly get brighter then dim slightly for long periods of time. The air in here was staler than the house and Oliver had to admit it was a little too cold in here for comfort. His fathers awards and articles for his books covered the walls; N.Y. best sellers, 5 out of 5 times magazine, his Pulitzer for his science fiction series "AMBER MOON" and so many more. Boxes of old junk and manuscripts cluttered his old desk in the corner as well, but if anything in here took center stage it was that damn old Shelby that sat in the middle of the room under an old tan dusty canvas cover. Pulling off the canvas Oliver ogled the pristine black cherry car his father spent so much of his free time on.
A hint of jealousy got caught in his throat as some unresolved feelings started whirling around in his gut. If being honest with himself Oliver had pictured his life ending in this car many times, albeit mostly from being a teenager and driving it like an idiot more times than he can count when his father was out of town. He slid his hand down the side car with a resolute and finite feeling. Popping the door open Oliver hopped on those black and white leather seats and felt the wood paneling and chrome trim that detailed the interior. Reaching for the glove box he glimpsed at his watch as it gave him a moment's hesitation before going ahead and opening it. Inside other than some loose papers was an old bottle of whiskey and his dads "Saturday night special" , a little black .25 caliber six shooter he always carried with him.
Reaching for the bottle, Oliver ended up pulling the contents of the whole glove box out onto the floorboard, "damnit!" With grunts of frustration Oliver reached over the divider and managed to clean up his mess. but not without noticing something stuck under the passenger seat. Pulling it free Oliver noticed a note scribbled on top. In the somewhat hard to read handwriting of his father it read " To: Ollie, if you're anything like me you'll find yourself stuck in a well one day. When you're ready hopefully this can be a rope for you to pull yourself out." Oliver gripped the box tightly with a blank expression for several minutes, "...fine, I'll look."
Oliver Took a swig of the bottle before opening the lid, at the front of the box was his dads original Manuscript for 'Amber Moon' written by Franklin Clarc. Oliver Smirked rolling his eyes, "you would think this would help wouldn't you." Putting the manuscript aside he riffled through the rest of the box looking at odd metal trinkets, a movie prop communicator for the 'Amber Moon' Film set along with the cast in full dress only.. it didn't quite look right. He didn't quite recognize the actors under the special effects like he could in the movie, "must be stunt doubles i guess". Then he noticed it, a small velvet pouch that he had been subconsciously avoiding this entire time. It slightly thrummed in the box traveling slowly up Oliver's arms. Opening the pouch, Oliver pulled out a very realistic prop of the crystal port key from the movie.
A small handle made out of cold steel encasing a very convincing glowing crystal with a small interface on its side and one rounded button at the top of the case. Another note was on the inside of the bag, Oliver unraveled the not reading "when you're ready Ollie, This is the Rope i was talking about. Promise me one thing, if you press this button it has to be out of hope, Believe in the possibilities of a second chance and giving that chance you're all. I love you son and I hope you find what you need like I did." Oliver got Angry," FUCK YOU! You don't have even an idea of how I'm fucking feeling!" Oliver slams his arms on the steering wheel, breaking the whiskey bottle in his hand and cutting himself pretty badly. "DAMNIT!! AAAAAAAAARGH!!"
Memories of that terrible crash Flooded Oliver's mind with no reprieve. Leaning his head on the Wheel Oliver's Heavy Sighs turned into long Breaths as he stared at his Fathers watch, it was a silver faced wrist watch trimmed in gold with a silver band and actually had a little secret to it. This watch actually opened like a pocket watch revealing a small picture of Oliver with his Wife Belle and daughter Dorothy 'Dot'. Staring at this picture Oliver felt the pit in his stomach tighten as he fought back even more complicated emotions, gripping the wheel tightly causing more blood to drip onto his pants Oliver could feel his mind clear. Closing the lid on his watch Oliver Said Once again "Fine" grabbing the movie Prop Oliver Thought of the bedtime stories his Father used to tell him at night that he eventually turned into his books, while juxtaposed against memories of his wifes quite wails in the hospital. With watery eyes Oliver proclaimed meekly "second chances" and pressed the button.
The Crystals light flared with a blinding light and the small thrum of the device now reverberated throughout the car. The overhead light of the garage popped leaving the only light source in his hands. Oliver dropped the device in a panicked response "Woah! Seizure warning Jesus Christ!" looking outside the windows the whole world seemed to be vibrating around them. "This Cant be Re-" without time to finish his thought the world folded inward around him swallowing him whole.