Through the Wormhole

Chapter II: The Hologram Creates the Quetzalcoatlus

Dan plopped down on his bed and slapped his thighs. "How could he do this to me? On my birthday?" He smelled that car, though, and if he wanted it, he had no choice but to follow his dad's orders: clean his room and mow the lawn. Terrific.

Before Dan started his chores, the hoverscooting clothes had to go. They were getting smelly.

He stripped and pulled a burgundy bathrobe over his slightly cold body. Dan double-knotted it and approached his closet, knocking on the doors.

They opened, and a robotic voice announced, "Welcome, Dan. What would you like to wear today?" before he even entered.

"M-34, we talked about this," Dan said, finding his way inside his AI dressing station. "You don't speak unless I'm in here." He sat in a chair facing the mirror and squeezed a chin pimple. "But since you insist—get me the outfit I got for Christmas. The one with the shoulder pads."

"As you wish, Master Dan." Mechanical hands left the closet's walls, like ghosts rising from the grave, and covered him with a curtain.

M-34 styled Dan in a red, gold-trimmed overcoat with jam-colored shoulder pads, white pants, and shin-tall boots. She slipped black, fingerless gloves over his hands and put a new pair of goggles in his hair.

"Behold!" M-34 stated after removing the curtain. "I call it M-34 couture."

Dan's face lit up at the sight of himself in the mirror. "Oh, I love it! I look so sexy! It's like I'm about to go on an adventure!"

"My pleasure," M-34 chuckled. "It's my duty to make you look charming. Is there anything—?"

"Achoo!" Dan's sneeze cut off her words, and his goggles dropped over his eyes. However, he pulled them back up.

"Gesundheit," M-34 said.

"Thanks. And no, M-34, I'm good." Dan rubbed his nose on the sleeve of his jacket. It looked like he was still recovering from his week-long cold. He was sure his father didn't notice he had a cold, though. Should Dan have said something? Maybe it would have gotten him out of his chores. Oh, well, there was always next time.

Speaking of Ben, Dan saw he left a gift when he exited his closet: a big, brown box that had Trash written on its side in the heart of his room. "Ugh," he groaned. "You're only doing this for the car, Dan." Therefore, he went straight to work.

Dan gathered rotting snacks, such as hot dogs, old burgers, and apples, and tossed them into the box. He almost threw away a pair of shoes because he stuffed candy wrappers in them. Craving was how he grieved, but it did make him a slob, as shown by his messy room.

The rays of the Sun washed through his window and scanned him.

"Achoo!" Dan's goggles flew out of his hair that time and landed on something not far from him.

"Gesundheit," M-34 repeated.

"Shut up, M-34." Dan continued cleaning. As he finished up, he stepped on his goggles and what rested under them—a picture frame.

Dan picked them up, and the knot in his tummy returned when he recognized the woman in the frame. Her name was Becca, but she was "Mom" to him. His heavy boot accidentally cracked the glass, but it wasn't terrible. Dan could still make out his mother's features: her short, brown hair and big eyes he shared with her. He wondered if he was just as beautiful.

Becca wasn't the only one in the picture. Dan was, too. He was about five, and he and Becca compared hand sizes. Ben and Claude, the family dog, acted as the backdrop.