First I noticed a long black crack on a neighbor’s white wall disappearing like a piece of spaghetti being slowly sucked into someone’s mouth. Next a pair of large whitewashed rocks reappeared at the beginning of another neighbor’s path. A moment ago they weren’t there. I knew these details—I saw them every day but they had been so trivial, so much a part of the humdrum ho-hum of life that I’d never given them a second thought. Only now did they matter when they were literally being re-placed in a world I once thought I knew. What’s that famous line? “God is in the details.” Amen.

If we’d driven to George’s on my motorcycle there was a hell of a good chance we might have fallen into a pothole along the way that was there twenty years ago but some forgetful alien forgot to fill.

Despite the urgent need to get over to George’s fast, we kept looking around.

“Look at the telephone wires.”

“And that tree—the white birch. It was half the size a minute ago.”

“Those curtains just changed.”

These changes went on and on, almost all of it small stuff, but happening everywhere to what seemed like everything.

“It’s kind of cool. These guys really take care of business.”

“Gee-Gee, have you seen them yet? I mean actually seen them?”

He hesitated, seemed to be weighing what he could and couldn’t say. “Yeah, I have. That’s why I got you out of that car and back to your house—they told me to. And they also told me to keep my mouth shut if you asked questions. After seeing what they can do here, I sure as shit ain’t gonna disobey them.”

Halfway to George’s house, Little Me had a new revelation. “I gotta tell you something. I don’t think you’re gonna like it.”

I’d been wondering what would happen if you sprayed an alien in the face (faces?) with Mace. A bird flew across our path and disappeared. Tweet tweet—gone. “Jesus, did you see that bird?”

“Yeah. Listen, I think I got the hots for Pauline.”

Silence. Keep moving.

“Did you hear me?” Silence.

“Come on, man, say something.”

I pointed a stiff finger at him. “The more one knows, the more silent he becomes.”

He whistled. “That’s a neat line. Did you just make it up?” “No, Gee-Gee, I read it. And at one point in your life you’re going to realize books are cool and being a tough guy is stupid. Believe it or not, you’ll give up one for the other. It’ll save you a lot of time.”

“Say another one. Quote something else you read.” He was serious. His face was wonder and please-tell-me.

“Here’s one that fits this moment– ‘I go to search a great perhaps.’ The dying words of a famous writer.”

Hands in his pockets and limping, he matched his pace to mine. “Meaning, like, no one knows what death is but I’m going to find out?”

“Or I’m dying and there’s nothing else I can do but go find out.”

“Yeah, that’s what I meant.”

“Take a right here.”

“I can’t believe you’re friends with George Dalemwood. That guy was a spaz.”

“And you were a sadistic dumb fuck bully. Why haven’t you asked me anything, Gee-Gee? I’m the future standing right next to you, but you haven’t asked even one question about what my life is like. Why? Aren’t you interested? Don’t you have any curiosity at all?”

It was his turn to be silent. We walked on. Twice he turned to look at me but said nothing for a long time.

“They told me something. They said I shouldn’t tell you because it might affect the way you act. But I want to tell you.”

“So tell. What is it?”

“They said after this is over, if it works and things go right, I’ll be sent back to my time and never know this happened. I’ll live my life I guess the way you already did and then end up ... like you.” He made an unhappy, impatient face.

“And you hate that?”

“Staying in Crane’s View? Marrying Magda Ostrova? I was hoping for maybe more.”

“Like white shag rugs in an LA bachelor’s pad? There is more. First you’ll go to Vietnam—”

He cringed. “No thanks.”

“Be quiet and listen to your life, especially if you’re going to forget it later. After Vietnam you’ll travel around the world. Then you’ll go to a terrific college in Minnesota.”

“Minnesota! Are you crazy? It’s a thousand degrees below zero out there in the winter.”

“Sssh. You’ll meet your first wife there. She’s a beautiful woman who’ll make a lot of money in Hollywood as a producer. A good chunk of that dough will go to you because you’ll come up with the idea for a so-so TV show that becomes very successful. You’ll get a taste of the LA life but it will mess you up. When you’ve had enough of it, you’ll come back here and be really happy for the first time in your life. Not a bad resume. So don’t worry, there’s lots of things for you to look forward to, believe me.”

“Isn’t that your dog up there?”

Seeing Old Vertue alive again, hobbling down the street toward us wasn’t a shock. Stranger things had been happening. The shock came from the fact the dog was much larger than the last time I’d seen it. Larger than any time I’d seen it. And something else—it was moving too fast. How could it walk so quickly on only three and a half legs?

“That ugly mutt don’t look friendly and it don’t look happy to see you, Uncle Fran. I think it’s time we stepped up our fucking pace.”

Vertue came straight at us, tail wagging too quickly, head down. It was moving too damned fast. A lot faster than a moment ago. Without checking for oncoming traffic, Gee-Gee stepped out into the street and limped/sprinted for the other side. I hesitated because part of me wanted to get close up to that dog. The last time I’d seen it, Floon said Old Vertue was George. What was it now? Why was it so much bigger? It began to growl. It was very loud.

“Get out of there. It’s gonna bite you.” Gee-Gee had wisely climbed onto the roof of a shiny black Audi TT. I wanted to laugh—whoever owned that nice little car was going to be tres pissed off. But I didn’t laugh because when I looked again at the dog, it had halved the distance between us and was coming on fast.

When in Rome do as the Romans do. I was near an old Volkswagen bus. Very high off the ground, the vehicle was virtually Vertue-proof if I could only get my ass onto its roof. But it is very goddamned hard to climb onto the roof of an old Volkswagen bus. There is no place to put your feet, no handholds to grab onto, or—

Clock-dock. That’s the sound the dog’s jaws made as they snapped their way through the air toward me. Hadn’t I saved this dumb animal’s life before it died? And given it an agreeable burial two times, even though it refused to stay buried? What kind of gratitude was that? Back from the dead (again), this beast was trying to attack me. And could it jump! As I scrambled up onto the roof of the VW, the three-legged monster was leaping like a pro basketball player at my ass.

Gee-Gee stood on the roof of one car while I stood on another. I was higher, his car was classier. I preferred the altitude. Meanwhile the dog looked up at me like I was the anchovy pizza he’d ordered from Domino’s.

Frustrated, I threw up my hands. “Now what are we supposed to do?”

Vertue growled and clock-clocked some more.

“Let’s call the police,” Wiseguy said from atop his Audi and honked a big fat fake laugh.

That inspired Old Vertue and it started jumping again. Ominously it got higher and higher.

“He gonna bite you, boss. Them teeth of his go clack-clack. You’d better think of something fast!”

“Like what?”

“Why don’t you kill it? You got your gun?”

“You can’t kill this dog. It’s already died twice since we met.”

He wouldn’t stop grinning. “Maybe the third time you’ll be lucky.”

“Gee-Gee, help me out here, willya? Don’t be a dick all day long. Helping me is helping you, don’t forget.”

“What’s its name?”