The Spectrumverse

Issue #6

Billy walked past the two figures and entered the gift shop. The shop’s interior stood out from the rest of the museum as it broke away from the Art Deco motif. The walls and floors had a simple pinewood style alongside the relaxing music being played via the speakers; it seemed sterile. Between Billy and the exit were rows of shelves. All of them stacked with memorabilia, replica masks, and novelty items all at a high price. Passing the many items on sale, Billy noticed the one cashier station.

The middle-aged man operating it was reading the Haverford Herald newspaper. He wasn’t expecting to do much work. The front page showed a photograph of a well-dressed gentleman speaking to a crowd. He was too far away to see the picture clearly, but he could read the headline:

Devastated

Phillip Knoll, CEO, Founder and President of Knoll Industries, mourns the death of close friend and Vice-President Louis Gallagher.

Glancing at the newspaper, Billy saw little that interested him. Not wanting to buy any of the items on display, he simply bypassed the cashier and headed straight for the exit. Passing through the large pair of large wide-open metal doors, he emerged into the rear area of the museum, a walkway leading back into the park. Originally, Billy would leave via the exit and continually look back and start planning his next visit right now.

He didn’t even want to think about what he had experienced today. On top of the rejection of his dream job, the home of his childhood memories was soon to be closed forever. Billy tried to shake that lingering bitterness. It felt uncomfortable, like sandpaper pressed against his skin. Protector Park didn’t seem as lovely as before. As he walked, Billy started to notice the other side of the park where there was full trash cans and unpruned trees. Not that it had ruined his day, but in that state of mind, he’d never noticed these things before. Either way, it didn’t matter now. He felt nothing really mattered.

A light breeze brought a chill to his cheeks. It felt refreshing. At least he thought so. As he looked around and saw many families and friends enjoying the park, he noticed a vehicle approaching further down the path. It was a small, green electric car. It had two seats in the front, and in the driver’s, seat was a walrus of a man with a blotchy face and bloated gut. His park ranger uniform had a silver badge with a tree on it, making him seem more authoritative than he was. It was like he thought he was police officer or sheriff. Even the reflective lenses on his sunglasses added to this ridiculous appearance. Regardless of appearance, Billy had no desire to be hit by an electric car. Moving off the path, Billy watched as the electric vehicle passed him. On the back of the car sat two young men wearing dark blue jumpsuits.

On the left seat sat Walter. He seemed surprised to see Billy. Both parties were startled. Just as the car was slowly moved out of his eyesight, Billy noticed something. On Walter’s jumpsuit was a small patch. On the patch were the words, “Community Payback”, in white letters. At his feet were a series of tools. All of which were used for gardening.

Billy turned away. He didn’t want to make eye contact with Walter. Maybe he didn’t see him properly. Maybe he might forget about it. Either way, Billy now felt another reason to leave the park. Instead of remaining on the path, he decided to walk another way. Cutting across the grass, Billy remained alert. He tried to avoid families on picnics and the amateur football games being played. He hadn’t eaten anything all day, so simply seeing some of the picnic foods made his mouth water. Even though there were just sandwiches, potato chips, and budget desserts, they all seemed delicious.

“Heads up,” a voice cried.

From out of nowhere, a football struck Billy in the back. It wasn’t with much force, but it was enough to draw him out of his distraction. Turning around, he saw an oval-shaped ball on the grass before him. Kneeling to pick it up, Billy noticed the yellow and black letters along the side.

“Haverford Hornets,” it read. Billy tried not to smirk. He always had been a baseball type of guy.

“Hey, Mister, can we have our ball back?”

Billy saw a group of young boys running toward him. All of them were young. It was about seven boys in total. All were ten years old, all wearing the standard summer outfit, shorts, t-shirts, and trainers.

“Ah, no problem,” Billy said as he lifted the ball off the ground.

Sliding his fingers around the leather surface of the ball, Billy quickly stood back up and held it out to the group of youngsters. One of them stepped forward. He wore a red t-shirt with the outline of a black bicycle. Looking up at Billy was a silly looking boy. His ruffled hair and bluish eyes could make almost anyone overlook any mischievous activates. As Billy handed the ball back to the young boy before him, something unexpected happened.

“You’re Billy Kingston, aren’t you?” asked the boy. He stopped and tried to wonder how this boy knew his name.

“How’d you…”

“My brother,” interrupted the boy, “Liam Berry, he goes to Graphic High. He told me about you and Freddie.”

It took Billy a few moments, attempting to remember Liam. When the image of a teenager resembling Reid Ewing appeared in his mind, Billy suddenly snapped his fingers.

“Liam. How’s he been?”

“He’s been ok. Could be better, he’s still singing with his band.”

“I remember his band. They’re ok, I suppose. Tell him I said, ‘Hi’,” The young boy nodded.

“My name’s Nolan by the way.”

“Good to meet you, Nolan. I gotta get going now, I’ll see you around.”

Nolan waved as Billy turned away and walked off into the distance. Soon after, he and his friends went back to playing their game. Billy felt a brief pause in the worrying and depression he was experiencing moments before his encounter. In this pause, Billy was allowed some reprieve from this dark moment. Crossing the grassy area, Billy looked around. In this instant, things didn’t seem as bad as before. Heading eastward through the park, Billy could see the east gates of Protector Park.