July 14th, 2019 by P. Starks

I never thought it was even possible to go back into the future, and I never thought I’d be doing it with a tuxedo of all things but there inside of hidden room within a closet that smelt of mothballs I stood right next to what I still couldn’t believe was a leprechaun. Why couldn’t I have just been in a sweet ride, like Michael J. Fox, I begged, silently in my head. But the thing that still rambled in it the most, what kept interrupting that fantasy, was that I had a sister who died months after I was born and that my parents never said a word to me about it; it hurt. And it dug into me deeper than what Sensei Shon had done to my sternum during sparring years ago. But me and dad had never told mom that that was why I quit; because out of all the killing I’d seen thus far, mom would’ve probably been arrested along with dad, and due to the circumstance’s she’s currently in, part of me somewhat wished it was so. The thought alone made me wonder where she was… Where they’d taken her? But I guess I was about to find out soon.  

“You gonna be alright little one?” said Sheamus, concerned. “You know… going back won’t be easy…”

 “Yeah I know… But I need to do this, it’ll explain everything… remember,” I grinned.

 Sheamus grinned back.  “Hmph… Just like your father. Alright then little one, you’ll need this watch, I have it already setup to go round trip; to the year you need to go and to the year you need to come back,” he said.

The watch wasn’t like any other. It had no hands on it to tell the time, neither did it have any digital numbers. It was completely blank, completely black all over, and was a bit tight on the wrist too. I looked all over it but couldn’t find a single button to start it. Now don’t get me wrong, I was completely up to date with technology, but this thing was like what seems to be the topic of the day… futuristic.

“Breathe into the screen,” said Sheamus, annoyingly. “You gotta breathe into it.”

And so, I breathed into it and out of the blue digits from it would appear; it was the year my sister died, the year I was born—1989. By my assumption I’d clicked my heels together like Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz, expecting that when I opened my eyes I would be back in the future, no, back in the past, ugh… I feel I really need to have a word with Mr. Fox, but either way I was expecting to be somewhere different from where I was currently. But sadly, I was still looking at Sheamus’s bristled face.

“What do you think you’re doing?” shouted Sheamus.

“Umm… activating the time,” I replied.

Sheamus rolled his eyes. “No, no, no, that’s not how it’s done. You first need to hit the button on the tie to pair up with the watch; it’s right in the middle of it. Once you push it, then flick the tie on your left, not mine, and then it will spin counterclockwise, taking you back to the… no, forward to the… wait a minute…”

I laughed. I guess Sheamus was just as confused as I was. Nevertheless, I pushed the button and all I heard after that was this Beboop Beboop sound; it was ridiculous and stereotypical, but still I had to admit it was pretty freaking cool. Last, I flicked the tie and it would spin like a sideways merry-go-round. My whole body began to disintegrate one by one; first my legs, second my left arm, my waist, and what my dad liked to say, the family jewels. Before I could ask anything else from Sheamus I’d disintegrated all the way up to my neck. And the last thing I heard was Sheamus’s fading voice.

GOO D L U CK… CH CH CH AH AH, it faded, jokingly.

Not long after I’d find myself in the middle of the road, bright lights flashing on me as I lied in a fetal position, shivering like I’d just swam in the Alaskan waters. It all happened so fast, with just the blink of an eye; it was 1989, but I sure didn’t remember it being as cold as it was; cold as the family jewels.

“Hey kid! Get out of the middle of the road?” yelled a man, hanging outside the window of a Ferrari.

It was the standard cherry red dad had always dreamed about. He’d always talked about how bad he wanted one but, of course, he could never come up with the funds for it. Who could in a middle income household, although, a part of me questioned that seeing how the tuxedo I wore and the technology that ran through it had to be hundreds of thousands of dollars just to make. Was dad Bruce Wayne? Ha, ha, nah; voice just didn’t sound raspy enough. Can we agree?

I then walked to the curb and off the road, and the man would peel off with his model of a girlfriend in the passenger seat, instantly finding themselves at eighty-five on the highway. There must have been something wrong with his engine though with all the smoke that lingered. But dad was right; a Ferrari moved incredibly fast.

Nevertheless, what I was there for in the first place was my sister, and the bonus would be finding out more about dad and who was after the Tuxedo.

“Roman… Come in Roman… Can you hear me?” said a voice, static and faint.

It honestly could’ve come from anywhere. But what really sparked my curiosity was how anyone would know who I was in 1989, I mean, I was just a baby, wherever I was.

“Boy! Can you hear me? It’s Sheamus! Look down at your watch. Come in, come in little one.”

I then lifted the watch up to my lips. “Sheamus?”

“No, I’m the leprechaun,” said Sheamus, sarcastically. “Of course, its me. How do you feel?”

“Alright, I guess… A little nauseous but fine.”

“That’s good. That’s very good to hear. Now I can’t guide you myself necessarily, but I will be here as they say, for emotional support. Again, this won’t be easy but if your anything like your father, you’ll be just fine. To get started cough into the watch and it will show you where the waypoint is.”

Emotional support? I mean, what kind of crap was that. Did he think I was some child or something?

“You are and yes emotional support is what you will need,” chortled Sheamus.

It was then I realized that apparently leprechauns could read minds too. But from the future? Yeah, maybe for another story.

I’d walk in a fast pace, then jog, and then repeat it all over again; I didn’t know how much time I really had, so, being quick about what I needed to do was mandatory, still I didn’t know what I would do when I got there either. What was I going to say to my sister who in that time only knew me as an infant? And what would happen if dad saw me? Would it effect the time I was supposed to be in…

For every block I passed, lights flickered and some of the best songs I could remember echoed. I wasn’t far from my destination now, about another block if my calculations were correct or from what the watch showed. But my stomach was growling, and my mouth watered like a leaking water faucet. But then my eyes sparkled with joy; Burger King. By habit I reached down to my pockets to grab my wallet, but it seemed I’d left them in my other pants, obviously.

“Don’t worry,” said Sheamus. “Check the inside of your coat. In it will be a few bills to get you by.”

Eagerly I checked my pockets and my stomach would growl, Hell Yeah. But it said that, not me, so mom never needs to know about it. Anyways, I walked up to the cashier and requested a double whopper plain, with cheese and ketchup, with a side of large fries and Barqs root beer. The cashier rolled her eyes.

“Is that all you want?” she said. “Like, you don’t want any lettuce, tomatoe, onions on it…”

“Nope,” I repeated. “Just meat, cheese, and ketchup please.”

Again, the cashier had rolled her eyes but this time a smile came with it.

“You’re an adorable little kid you know that,” she smiled. “That’ll be $11.98.”

“$11.98! My a…”

“My goodness, that’s a good price,” I interrupted. “Cool it leprechaun…”

The cashier then leaned over the counter with frustration; I guess she was already having a bad day. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”

“N-nothing at all… Just that leprechauns are cool… You know how lucky the four-leaf clover is? You know the story behind it?”

The cashier then looked at me suspiciously as she gave me back my change.

“Yeah sure… Where are your parents?” she asked. “More so, why the heck are you in a tuxedo? Wait do you have a little date? Oooo, who’s the special girl?”

Out of nowhere two more girls that worked with the one in front of me circled around me like a bunch of sharks. They tugged on my cheeks and ruffled my hair, all saying the same thing; oh, he’s so cute. Sarah let’s get a picture.

It was then I ran for my life, but sadly leaving my whopper and fries behind. Still, with a hungry stomach I’d managed to drag myself to the waypoint.

“Here…” said Sheamus. “This is where they arrived first.”

It was a mall. I’d never seen anything like it, bright lights flashing all around it as if it were a season to be jolly. From it I could hear nothing but cheers and laughter. But then I saw him… It was dad and yes, still in a Tuxedo of all things, although, it seemed he was more into variety than just black then; it was solid white, with red stripes traveling vertically down it in every angle. He still had that same exaggerative laugh, that of which I could’ve heard probably back at the Burger King if I listened hard enough. But he was all alone… Where was my sister?

Kids were literally all over the freaking place. I looked at them all but not one of them I felt was my sister. But then dad put on smile bigger than I’d ever seen him do before. He bent down to one knee with opened arms, and out of nowhere a girl with hair like fire, in a polka dotted dress expelled through the crowd with a smile identical to moms.

“That’s her,” said Sheamus. “That’s your sister. That’s Natalya.”

“Natalya…”

As I watched dad lift her up and spin her around, I stood frozen with mixed emotions; I was happy but sad too. She looked so heartwarming, and just the sight of it made me regret never having the chance to have met her. I looked down at the tuxedo I wore and thought, all of this for you Natalya, of course it was sister, look at you, I smiled, tearfully.

“You still sure you want to go through with this?” said Sheamus. “We can always go back… Maybe even find anoth…”

“No,” I interrupted. “I can do this. I’ll be fine… Just need to figure out what to say.”

“You say nothing. The only objective here is to prevent the car wreck from happening. Its from this event they left and afterwards got on the road. It was after this event your dad lost your sister. But if we prevent this event from happening maybe a new answer will transpire.”

“Okay, okay! I get it,” I shouted. “So, what then?”

Sheamus was quite now. I’d call for him at least four or five times but it seemed he’d abandoned me for the moment. Guess it was another one of his so-called lessons he was trying to teach. I must’ve watched dad and my sister for fifteen minutes in joy… Dad was so happy then; it was like torture seeing him now and remembering what he’d converted to in my time. I could now see why mom had been so patient through all those years with him; he’d been in denial the whole time, refusing to believe that Natalya was gone. But there I stood the only one that could do anything about it.

From my peripheral a strange man stood around the corner of the store they were at. I don’t know if he was some pervert or what, but I could see that whatever his intentions were, they were cruel. The man wore black shades, like Wesley Snipes in Blade. He wore a suit of his own, but it wasn’t a Tux thank the lord, still it annoyed the hell out of me all the same. I needed to investigate.

As dad and Natalya walked out from the store with Ice Cream cones in their hand, the man followed, but kept his distance. Dad had looked back a few times, but the man was good; every time dad had turned, he’d find a way to hide himself. But I could also tell that dad felt something was wrong; he’d gone from cheerful to cautious in a matter of seconds. Although, Natalya still showered everyone they passed with blissfulness. If angels ever existed in this life, she was definitely one of them.

It seemed like they’d done all they needed for the day; so, both dad and Natalya began making their way over towards the exit. But when I looked around the man was gone. I couldn’t believe I lost track of him. Without any thought I ran outside of the mall to catch up with dad and Natalya, for wherever the man had gone, I knew somewhere on the road he’d be waiting for them.

When I arrived at the parking lot it was like a maze. What the heck was dad even driving in 1989? I questioned. It was definitely one of those moments Sheamus’s wisdom could’ve come to use, however, he still wasn’t responding to me. I was beginning to believe what happened in the past hurt him more than what he believed.

Nevertheless, I went from car to car, hoping to find a red velvet cake suit and a carrottop, but most I found were cars bouncing up and down, with fogged windows. I’d gotten yelled at by a few of them.

“Hey! Get out of here you little pervert!” yelled a man, from outside the window of his car; it was cherry red.

Both our eyes connected, and frustration would be embedded in both.

“You again,” we both said.

The man then stepped out of his Ferrari, with his shirt unbuttoned and pants unzipped. I guess this what mom meant by I couldn’t see R-rated films.

“Hey kid, where the heck are your parents at?” the man asked. “Your starting to be quite the nuisance you know.”

His girlfriend then stepped out, hair in a mess, mascara sweating down her face, with blotches of red around her neck. For a minute I thought I’d saved her life; for all that had been done to her I’d begin to suspect that the man might’ve been a vampire, but I had no garlic or a cross to prove it. So, instead I stood in front of him, holding both my index fingers up in the form of one. His girlfriend giggled.

“Now that’s just too cute,” she said.

But the man had obviously had enough of me. He grabbed me by the shoulders and then carried me around the parking lot like a ragdoll.

“You’ve been a pain in my butt ever since I saw you in the middle of the road,” he said. “Now where the heck are your parents mini Bond? I’m trying to get my freak on. And it is nighttime if you know what I mean.”

I’d done my best to break free from him, but again, I was just a kid, and didn’t have nearly the strength that he did. I thought, maybe I could push the button on the bowtie, jump to the actual future of my older self, come back and give them man a lesson or two about picking on people his own size but I already could hear Sheamus’s faint answer to it, even if he wasn’t responding.

Though, out of nowhere I’d be freed and when I looked behind all I could see was the guy from the Ferrari being held up in the air like a newborn baby. By his crotch area the denim he wore had become darker, and a sour smell instantly was noticed.

“Okay, okay, let me go,” he cried. “We were just having a little chat!”

“Hey kid, this guy bothering you?” said the man.

I was so speechless I nearly choked on my own spit. It was freaking dad, in that ugly red velvet tux of his, and behind him stood Natalya, hair bouncing in the cold night air like a flame to the wind. She was relaxed surprisingly, which led me reason to believe that dad had done this kind of thing more than once in front of her.

And then she’d walk up to me, gazing up and down at me as she’d circled around. The ice cream cone she had was nearly gone, no, was gone, it just seemed she didn’t care to finish the cone part. She chugged it behind her nearly hitting dad’s tux.

“Hey… honey, you got watch it. What have I told you about that?” said dad.

She smiled, and then she spoke. “I like this one dad. He’s like a mini version of you, and cute too,” she smiled, leaning into me.

I fell backward avoiding what I thought to be a kiss but as I feel back, she followed. Dad had already let the guy go but his Ferrari and half-naked model of a girlfriend still sat waiting for his return. But that was the least of anyone’s concern.

“Alright honey, we don’t want to frighten the boy,” dad chortled, ruffling my hair. “Now young man, where are your parents?”

I shook my head. And Natalya, well… she was clung to my arm as if were on a date; it was disgusting. Again, within my peripheral I could see the man with the dark shade’s, but this time hidden in an old SUV that screamed suspect.

“M-my parents… there back inside the mall…” I replied.

Dad then gave me a suspicious look. And then looked at my sister shaking his head in the ways of father that said, God I’m not ready to let me little girl go. And the fortunate thing about that was neither was I ready for him to; it seemed her grip on my arm got tighter by the minutes. My sister had undoubtedly fallen for me, which meant I was in for a longer night than I thought.

“Say, where did you get such a nice-looking tux?” dad asked. “I’ve never seen anything quite like it. The only man I can think of to make such a tux would be Mr. Buzby down at the tailor shop.”

I cringed on the name. I wanted to tell him, and you killed him to, but that would’ve only blown my cover and would’ve possibly made dad so suspicious that he might’ve even tried to kill me. A faint voice yelled from across the street of the parking lot. I was nearsighted so I really couldn’t tell who it was but the closer they’d gotten the more recognizable the voice became.

“Hey kid! You forgot your whopper and fries,” yelled a girl.

Yeah, just what I needed.

“Friend of yours,” said Natalya, frowning. Dad shook his head in embarrassment.

And then the man with the shade’s stepped out of the SUV, black gloves and all, with looked to be a silencer in his hand.  Things were getting out of control; I needed to be quick.

“Did you see them?” I said.

Dad responded puzzled. “See what?”

“My parents,” I said, pointing away from the chaos that came. “They were just there; they went that a way.”

I grabbed dad’s hand, while my Natalya stayed well… you know, and we made a straight shot for the entrance back into the mall. Once we entered everything would be loud and cheerful again.

“Well… I guess this will explain everything,” Natalya smirked.

And it was in that moment I realized something, a clue. I had to ask again to be sure though…

“What did you just say?”

“What? Everything will be explained?” Natalya repeated.

Yeah that was just what I thought I’d heard. Like daughter, like father.

To be continued PART III

July 6th, 2019 by P. Starks

Dad had always been so infatuated with suits. For as long as I could remember, he’d worn one every day but there I stood in a cold closet still trying to see the significance to them that he saw. He never explained it, however, in the palm of my hand held the key that would reveal it all, at least that’s what was told to me before he’d gotten arrested. But in that moment, I thought about the man who died on the floor of Mr. Buzby’s tailor shop, as well as the part where dad killed Mr. Buzby; it made my skin crawl. And the picture… how could I forget; it was like watching Back to the Future on repeat but, of course, through my dad’s eyes. Nevertheless, it would all be solved soon enough, one way or another I was about to find out the truth; I just hoped that whatever it was for the intentions were good. If not, then I honestly don’t know what I will think of dad, but I’ll just wait for when that time comes.

Just like dad instructed, I walked all the way into the closet until I saw the red suit mom had bought him long ago. The touch of it was smooth and silk, and the smell of it was well… clean or as mom liked to put it, Febrezed. Before I could move it to the side, to reveal what dad said would be a door, something would drop on the floor reminding of the way Mr. Buzby soulless body had once did, and my skin would crawl even more. And went THUMP, Thump, THumP… just like that. Quickly, I turned around to see what it was, but the only thing that was in sight were dozens, if not hundreds of tuxedos that I still wondered were clean or dirty, but I sure knew that the red suit was at least.

­“Mom… Is that you?”  I said, but all I could hear was the echo of my own innocence; it was embarrassing, but luckily no one was around to hear it.

I then turned back around to the red suit but now it was gone. However, what was now in front of me was the door; solid black with gold trimmings and a golden handle. Everything will be explained, again, echoed dads voice. Being haste for time, more so, terrified, I took the key in my hand and literally continued with the task at hand; I inserted the key and turned it.

CLICK, CLICk, CLIck, Click, click, it faded. But then a voice other than my own would appear.

“You shouldn’t do that,” it mumbled, rough and groggy.  

I squinted, still, could barely see a thing for how poorly lit the closet was. There had to be at least six out of the ten lightbulbs that were out. And whatever it was that hid obviously wasn’t around any of the four that were still on.

“Master Cruze won’t like you digging around in his things,” the voice repeated. “It’s best you turn back around and forget what you’ve seen here.”

“What are you talking about? Master Cruze? Are you talking about my dad?”

It was then the voice revealed itself. From behind the tuxes that hung in front of me, shooting out from the darkness like bat, out came a small man wearing an emerald coat, black pants, and black boots that of which were shiny enough where I could see my own reflection. The man’s eyes were orange, which I’d never seen the color of anyone’s eyes before, still, they were interesting enough to get lost in them; they were almost like gold come to think of it.

“If you must know, yes, I am a leprechaun,” the small man admitted, with frustration. “So, you can stop staring at me like you’ve just seen a ghost, although, never got the reference. Tell me, how can you see a ghost if its invisible or then again is just… what’s the word for it, transgenic?”

“You mean, translucent…”

“Yeah, that’s it,” the leprechaun smiled. “Smart for a child.”

As friendly as he was, I would be a lie to say I wasn’t terrified. He looked nothing like the guy on my cereal box, and I was sure that he didn’t have a pot of gold floating around anywhere either. And by the looks of him, mom would’ve probably A: passed out or B: yeah, you guessed it, pass out. But either way he was the only one that seemed to know more about my dad than what my mom or I knew; so, I had to play along.

“Let’s get this out the air shall we; first, I don’t collect gold or lucky charms, I collect tuxedos. And second, I am here guarding them for your father until… Wait what exactly happened to Mr. Cruze?”

“Dad got arrested… And from what mom mumble cried in her sleep, could be going away for a long time. The policeman said he’s being accounted for not only domestic abuse but murder.”

“Absurd! Mr. Cruze would never do… Well, unless… Oh dear, oh dear…” he panicked. “But not the domestic abuse, he’s far too much of a gentleman to ever hit a lady. But murder…”

Back and forward the small man paced around the closet until he became so dizzy, he’d fallen to the floor, wobbling like a turtle on its shell, hysterically. I grabbed his hand and pulled him back up. But when we clasped, they felt like claws of an eagle but slimy. For dad to hang around such a man, it really made me begin to wonder just how sick he might’ve been in the head. I started to have doubts. Dad had always been a good man, but all that I’d heard didn’t necessarily guide me to that result.  The secrets, the murder, the picture, the key and now the leprechaun, all of which led me to this point, and a confusing one at best.

“I’m sorry but what the heck does a tuxedo have to do with any of this? I mean, people are dying, getting killed!” I yelled.

The leprechaun then looked at me sarcastically, with tangerine eyes; there was a fire within them.

“He didn’t tell you, did he?” he whispered.

“Tell me what?”

Shaking his head, the Leprechaun then grabbed my hand and pulled me by the door that required the key.

“I knew I should’ve retired… That man will be the death of me I swear… Well, maybe not, I’m immortal,” he laughed. “But on a serious note… This key will explain everything…”

“Okay then, let’s go,” I said, putting the key into the door, eagerly.

The Leprechaun then slapped my hand.

“No, no, no… Patience!” he said. “Before we enter you need to know something, and that is there is no turning back. You will be a part of the legacy. You know… your dad didn’t want you knowing about me or this room until you were what do they call it, sixteen sweets?”

“You mean sweet sixteen…” I grinned.

“Bah, whatever girlfriend,” said the Leprechaun, with laughter screechy as nails to a chalkboard. “Sorry, I don’t get out much. But if you are ready, then let us proceed.”

I thought about all that had happened that day, especially, what mom had been through. It wasn’t right for me to leave her alone, but then again, I’d made a promise to dad, and that was something neither of us broke. But before I’d go in, still I had to make sure everything with mom was alright. Quickly, I hurried down the stairs like a dog hearing that it’s food bowl was being filled. As I had made my way down, I could hear that the TV was incredibly loud. I’d expected it from dad, but never from mom. When I’d turned to the right of the living room, it was completely black with the TV glowing on Channel 2 news. I ran over to the sofa, but mom wasn’t there; just the blanket that I’d left over her.

“Mom!” I yelled, but not a whimper of her was heard.

I then ran back towards the stairs to check her room but about time I’d placed my foot on the first step, in my peripheral I noticed that the door was open. And the smell of rain blew through it like burning incense.

“She’s gone…” said the leprechaun from behind me.

In his hand was a note written on cardboard, the same carboard from the box of Domino’s pizza we’d ate two days ago.

“Here take it…” he said. “Might explain e…”

“Nope, don’t say it, don’t say it, I don’t want to hear it. I’m tired of everyone telling me that…J-just hand it to me.”

“Jeez, no one’s ever any fun anymore. Here, take it then and go away,” said the Leprechaun, walking over to pout in the corner.

I then looked at the letter, reading between the grease that still soaked in it, trying to decode what it said. At first, I couldn’t really make anything out of it but then it clicked. It said: Bringu  sthet uxedo ory ouwill b3s orry. Meetu 45 Cherry. I turned to the leprechaun.

“I think it says that they want me to bring a tuxedo and meet them somewhere on 45^th and Cherry. What tuxedo are they talking about? There’s dozens of them in the closet,” I said.

The Leprechaun said nothing after that. He took a long and hard gasp of annoyance. Slowly, he walked himself up the stairs and when he’d reach the top, with his small hand waved for me to follow. Before I could even wrap my mind of what happened to mom, there we stood at the door again; the same stupid door that everyone kept telling me that would quote on quote “explain everything.” At this point I just wanted to kick it down and throw in a grenade for whatever was in it, but I was just a kid, not Rambo.

“Go on then,” said the Leprechaun. “Oh, and just in case you’re wondering, the names Sheamus.”

We both shook hands and began. Again, I inserted the key into the door and twisted. There was a click and the sound bounced all around us. It was a little awkward but Sheamus hadn’t said a thing. He stood still and calm no different than what hung behind us. Before I would even have the chance to push it open, the door would open on its own; light expelled from it blindingly, like a driver who’d forgotten to turn their high beams off. But then the light would fade.

As we entered all I seemed to notice was a stair way dead center of the room. Where did it lead to?

“Alright let’s get started shall we,” said Sheamus. “To your right is Mr. Cruzes wall of designs. We will first need to find the book to the specific Tuxedo where looking for.”

I was amused. “Are you saying that the so-called Tux that everyone is looking for was something my dad made?”

“Indeed,” Sheamus smiled, with teeth beveled in areas that they shouldn’t have.

As told, I walked over to the wall of designs that sat on the wall. But they weren’t pictures, they were books; books of drawings, books of ideas that dad had hidden away all this time. There must’ve been thousands of them. I was a little impressed by how’d he gotten them all in such a small space, although, I had a pretty good idea that Sheamus was the mastermind behind it. He was much smarter than what he sounded.

“There, there it is,” he pointed, pulling out a latter, that looked as instead, it was carrying him.

“Up you go, we don’t have all day boy.”

“The names Roman,” I snarled. Still, Sheamus shooed me up to grab I guess what was the book of all books.

The book was gigantic, so much that it must’ve taken up at least three to four space’s within the shelf. It was completely black all over, and on its edges, it was black too. Was it book of spells? But for tuxedo’s… Yeah, now that would be the day… when pigs flied. On my tippy toes I reached up as high as I could to pull the book down; it was heavy. But by the end of it all, I’d still get it out, as well the sweat that dripped from my pores in effort.

When I’d gotten down, without hesitation, Sheamus snatched from my hands, with a grip stronger than what I thought he had. Kungfu grip, I silently joked, but come on a leprechaun, now that would be another story to tell, possibly even a good one.

“Follow me,” he said, rushing over to the center of the room, where the stairs carved into the floor.

“I-is it there?” I asked. “The special tuxedo.”

Sheamus said nothing. He walked over beside me, grabbed my hand, and then took one of his dirty nails, cutting into my skin well enough until I dripped of red, onto the pages of the book. I punched him dead in the face only he didn’t budge; not a wobble from his bobble head stature. It was obvious that it hurt me more than it hurt him.

“Are you done?” he said, yawning and rolling his eyes. “We don’t have all day.”

But then what happened next was really when I started to see what dad was involved with; I was out of my league. Once the Sheamus had closed the book, he flung it down the stairway like it was a piece of trash, arguably. Meanwhile, I still held my hand in pain, still pissed off. It was as if he didn’t care at all that he’d hurt me.

“What are you doing?” I shouted.

“Shush boy. Just watch,” he whispered. “And give me your hand, tired of hearing your whimpering.”

As Sheamus had held my hand before me the floor and the stair way spread apart like a broken puzzle; board after board, swarming around us like sharks in the pacific. During its magnificence Sheamus had let go long before I’d realized it and when I looked down there wasn’t a single mark on my hand.

“Oh, here it comes!” he shouted excitingly. “You know Mr. Cruze has only let me see this thing twice since I’ve known him, and I’ve known him ever since he was a little boy. The nerve right?”

Since he was a child? I pondered. That was the last thing that stuck for me. How long had all of this been going and if it had been going on that long, did grandpa know about it? It was then I remembered what Sheamus had told me before we entered.

Before we enter you need to know something, and that is there is no turning back. You will be a part of the legacy, his voice echoed. And then dads voice again. Everything will be explained, it repeated.

Nevertheless, things were coming to a closure. Where the stair once carved into the floor was now a hill, and up it something pulled with squeaking noises as high pitch as a rat. Where their rats? Hopefully not, but either way I was about to find out.

“Hope you’re ready for this little one? More so hope it fits. Well… then again it fits everyone, who’s worn it.”

I stood awe as what I was looking at was just an ordinary tuxedo. It was black all over, with a black bow tie and black shoes. This couldn’t have been what everyone was raving about it. Although, from what mom had told me, it was best not to judge a book by the cover unless looks is all you really cared for.  

Sheamus then walked up to it and opened the door. I didn’t notice it, but inside of it was sealed the same book that he’d thrown down just moments prior. He pulled it out and handed it to me.

“Hold this,” he said.

While he’d taken his time pulling the tuxedo out from the museum like vase that it hung in, I would flip through the pages of the book. At first, there was nothing but just blank pages, all in repeat, but about time I hit the middle of the book I saw pictures of the same men I saw from the picture that the man in Mr. Buzby tailor shop had left. Again, they all looked like dad. I pulled out the picture to compare and that’s exactly what it was. But the thing that I’d missed the whole time was what they all wore. I looked again at the tuxedo that Sheamus had finally brought down. Like in the picture, everyone one wore black coat, black bowtie, and a black button up, which was somewhat informal for what I was taught about tuxes but…

“Do you understand now?” asked Sheamus.

“Understand what… All of this is just some tuxedo party gone wrong.”

Sheamus rolled his eyes. “I didn’t know stupidity ran in Mr. Cruzes family…”

But he was wrong, it wasn’t that I was stupid, it was that I just didn’t want to admit what it was that I’d put together.

“Tell me… the man in the tailor shop. Did you notice anything particular about him?” asked Sheamus.

“Wait. How do you know about that?”

Sheamus smiled. “Oh, I know everything, at least all of that surrounds Mr. Cruze. You can say I’m like Fred and he’s like Catman.”

“Geez! Its Alfred and Batman.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Sheamus ignored. “But back to the man. Are you sure you didn’t notice anything about him?”

I paused and thought about it for a moment. The man looked like dad or was dad but from the future which was obvious. He had the picture… But then it came back to me, the moment where the man had fallen to his death. I must’ve been that much in shock to not remember but now it was all coming back to me.

When the man had fallen, his coat faded from tan to black, and then black to tan, as if he were in some kind of camo, the gecko kind.

“Do you see it now?” asked Sheamus. “What the man wore was no different than what’s in front of us. He only allowed you to see what he wanted you to, however, it seems that the tuxedo had gotten damaged for some reason. Ugh… still don’t get it do you?”

I shook my head in confusion.

“The tuxedo, this particular tuxedo is a time traveler. And it can do many other things. But there’s no more time to explain kid; its go time,” said Sheamus throwing the tuxedo on to me.

Like a snake it coiled around me, slipping my arms and legs inside of it.

“Damn… Looks way better on you,” said Sheamus wide eyed. “But don’t go telling your father what I said.”

“Wait… How did it?” I paused.

“Its simple you’re a Cruze, and the blood that I sent down to it was a way for it to recognize you. It is built for blood recognition. And besides, if it wasn’t then I’d probably worn it myself,” laughed Sheamus.

The tuxedo was originally tailored for dad, but from the looks of it, it had tailored itself to me. It felt nice. I thought about Mr. Buzby tailor shop again and how I never got a chance to put on my first tux, yet there I was standing in front of a leprechaun oddly, with one that presumably could time travel.

“Wait… So why would anyone want this tuxedo? I mean, who’s looking for it? I need to know! They have mom.

“Isn’t it obvious,” he chortled. “There are some nasty people out there that would love nothing more but to change the world how they see it. However, what they want isn’t necessarily what would be best for everyone else. Your father knew this… yet, he never quite got over Sasha…”

“Who’s Sasha?”

Sheamus looked as if were to pass out. “No, no, no, I shouldn’t be the one to tell you this… Oooo their such horrible parents those two.”

“Hey, calm down… what’s going on?” I stopped him.

Sheamus swallowed and followed with a deep breath. “Sasha was your sister…”

“Sister? No, I’m an only child. Sure I’ve always wanted a sibling but no, I’m just an only child,” I repeated.

“No,” Sheamus corrected. “You were… but not always. Sasha died in a car accident just months after your birth. Your dad was in the car; they were on their way to see a movie but out of nowhere a drunk driver, flew straight the a red light, crashing into the passenger side, the same side that your sister was on.”

Tears gradually rolled down the sides of my face, my heart rate sped up as if I’d been sprinting, and then my knees buckled; I fell to the floor.

“I had a sister…” I sobbed.

“Yes… I’m afraid so,” Sheamus admitted. “And that’s what all of this is about. Or at least it was, until whoever it was that found out about the Tuxedo came about.”

“With this suit… can I go back?”

Sheamus then took a few steps forward with caution towards me. He could obviously feel what I was thinking, but still hoped that it wasn’t what he assumed.

“Go back where?” he questioned. “If it’s the tailor shop yes but it will be tricky…”

“No… Not there. I mean, can I go back to where my sister was alive? The day she died.”

“No, no, no,” urged Sheamus. “Mr. Cruze has tried many times, and for every time, he’s come back heart broken and missing a part of himself.”

“What part?” I asked, concerned.

“His soul boy! His soul!”

Dad… Mom… It must’ve been so hard for them both to keep a secret from me for so long. It was at this point, either way Sheamus knew that I would go with or without him, although, I didn’t know how to work the tuxedo, so it looked like I was already in a disadvantage. I then stared at Sheamus innocently, hoping for some bit of instruction.

“Okay, okay,” he said. “Stop staring at me like that, didn’t I tell you already. Ill show you how to get there but just know there want be any turning back.”

Yeah, like I didn’t hear that before.

TO BE CONTINUED (PART III)

June 29th, 2019 by P. Starks

When I was just ten years old my dad took me out to buy my first tuxedo. He said it was what made a man a man, but mom always felt a suit would’ve been just fine. Even though dad didn’t like them, she still bought them for him anyways in the hopes that he would start liking them. But lord only knows how much dust and cobwebs are collected on them by now. I think there somewhere behind the tuxedos in his closet, but he keeps moving them so that mom doesn’t find out he hasn’t been wearing them. So, I honestly wouldn’t know.

Funny part is, mom had become so furious with dad being so unappreciative that on April’s fool’s day she had hid all of dad’s tuxedos before he woke up the next morning. It was hysterical and sad; dad was squirming all over the house, nearly scratching out his eyes in the hopes that he would find even a bow tie, but nothing ever came up. It was amazing, mom was like Houdini. Even I began wondering what she had done with them. I mean, she did tell me she was hiding them, but where? I wondered.

 But then mom had finally showed dad where they were, for she couldn’t help but see the man she loved so miserable. Dad was, of course, mad for about two weeks, but then he came to realization with himself that maybe he hadn’t been as appreciative with mom as he should’ve been or what would’ve like to have been. So, on the third week dad had sent to mom’s job five dozen roses, with a snoopy card, that of which she could never get enough of. They’d made amends.

Nevertheless, for my first tuxedo dad had finally gotten the chance to take me to his favorite and only tailor Mr. Buzby. He was an elderly man, seventy-five or eighties years of age from what I could tell. He had an odd smell, like after shave mixed with something that it shouldn’t have been mixed with, whatever that is. He to wore a tuxedo but obviously had been worn since the time he was my dad’s age which had been decades ago; it was surprising that it even fit.

“Well look at you,” smiled Mr. Buzby. “You know last time I saw you; you were just a little one in a deep sleep of your mother’s arms.”

“Good to see you again to Mr. Buzby,” I replied.

Dad then headed to the bathroom to take as he like to have put it, a tinkle. Meanwhile, Mr. Buzby got his preparations in order to measure me. The sun was beaming straight through the windows of the room, reflecting off the mahogany floor better than what a mirror would do. It was a normal day for the month of April—warm and bright.  

After about 15 minutes of prepping Mr. Buzby would begin measuring me and dad still had not come out. It was strange but neither Mr. Buzby or I paid it any mind; what a man did in the bathroom was his own business, Mr. Buzby would say.

But then a man entered the store.

“Sorry sir we’re closed…” said Mr. Buzby, shooing the man away.

But the man said not a word. He stood at the front door quiet, with his eyes bouncing around the room like a pinball. He was looking for something, but I could tell that it was more than a tuxedo.  

“Sir… I’m sorry but you will have to leave. I told you we are closed for the day,” Mr. Buzby repeated.

The mans eyes then turned onto me and Mr. Buzby.

“I heard you,” said the man, with his eyes still scoping around the room. “But I won’t be leaving, not yet. Not until the boy’s father shows up.”

Mr. Buzby then paced his way over to the phone but about time he’d reached it, the man was already there. It was as if it was… No, that’s exactly what it was. I mean… I only saw it when X-men came on the Fox channel, where nightcrawler would poof into a ball of smoke appearing in different places of his choosing. But the man who entered was different than that. It was like a blink of an eye. And there was no doubt about it, that it was teleportation. The man then grabbed the phone and smashed it down on the floor, shattering it into a handful of plastic scraps. How much force did he use? And so, now I guess he was pretty strong to… I don’t know.

“Hey!” yelled dad. “Is everything alright in there?”

The man then gave Mr. Buzby a wicked stare, and Mr. Buzby would literally be shaking in his penny loafers. But then the man nodded, and Mr. Buzby would reply to dad hesitantly, but calmly.

“Y-yes, yes. Everything’s fine just knocked over one of my lamps,” said Mr. Buzby, with his voice trembling. “You know I’m not getting any younger.”

And then all that was heard after that was dad’s laughter in the background, and the sound of the toilet flushing, and sadly no sink running. Mom would’ve killed him.

I don’t know what it was that triggered it, but it was then I put the man’s face into perspective; he looked just like my dad, only older and ruthless. His eyes were just as brown and his teeth were just as white, except they looked like they had seen better days for that a few were jagged. Who was he?

The sound of footsteps then slowly paced around the corner, and the man would hide around it until dad came. His eyes never left me and mine never left his. There was no doubt in my mind that it had to be dad. But from the future.

Dad had come our smiling with relief, although, his smile had faintly gone away the closer he came. If there was anything my dad was good at, it was reading faces.

“You two alright? You look like you just seen a ghost or something,” said dad.

“Don’t move,” said the man, holding what we assumed to be a gun under his trench coat.

Dad immediately through his hands up in the air and did his best to swallow his sudden fear. He looked at me and with his lips voiced out to me, everything is going to be okay.

“What do you want? Is it money? If it is, my wallets in my left pocket,” said dad. “Take whatever you want. Just don’t hurt anyone.”  

 “Turn around!” yelled the man, yanking dads shoulder around.

When dad turned around, he had hard time holding his arms up. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Both dad and the man stood for what felt like hours evaluating each other, like dogs looking into the mirror.

“Wow, I remember now… I was so handsome then or now,” the man mumbled. “Yet, so much has changed.”

Sweat was pouring down the side of dad’s neck like a frozen water bottle being defrosted. He put his hands down, and the man tucked his gun back away.

“What do you mean?” question dad, concerned. “Are you saying that you are me and I am you?”

“Yes…” replied the man, instantly. “We are the same. Take a hard look because this is you in the future baby.”

Dad smiled and laughed up at the ceiling; he didn’t believe it, except for everyone else in the room.

“Oh, come on… If you are me then you would have on tux, but from far as I can tell your just a homeless man looking for a little excitement. And if you’re looking for that then it’s probably best you head down to Aurora on 78^th street.”

“You have no idea what has happened or what will. We lost… We lost it all but…”

The man paused and dad would take two steps back to place himself in front me and Mr. Buzby. Out from his pocket the man pulled out a picture and dropped it on the floor as he fell to one knee. Black blood was spitting up from his mouth and oozing from his nose.

“It’s too late…” he said, skin turning blue. “Take this and you will understand why I came… I just wish I’d come sooner… D-dammit…”

On the floor in front of us now lied a dead body and the only clue to what was happening, but then the body had gone from translucent to just us looking at a floor with spots of black blood on it now.

“Jesus… what happened to his body?” asked Mr. Buzby.

Dad said nothing. He bent down where the picture had fallen and picked it back up.

“What is this?” he whispered, with his hand trembling.  

“Are you alright son?” asked Mr. Buzby, curiously. “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost now?

Dad then took the right arm of his tuxedo and wiped the side of his face. “Yeah… Yeah I’ll be fine, but Mr. Buzby could I have a moment with you for a second?”

“Yes… of course.”

There the two left me, in a room where a man had just died. Did they forget how old I was? Or what I would say? But to get my mind off it I ran to the lobby area of the store where Mr. Buzby kept the old tube tv. Maybe I could find something that would get me to laugh out all the fear I held, I thought. But as I flipped from channel to channel not a thing was on that took my mind off what just happened. There were a few re-runs of WWF but still, not even the Rock telling someone that he’d whip their monkey ass was enough.

A big thump then echoed in the back room.

“Dad!” I yelled, peeking around the corner.

But again, dad said nothing. And it surely wasn’t like him to be so silent. It was then I started to think that whatever it was in that picture, set him apart from his original self. But what was in it? I wondered. When dad arrived, there was a different look in his eyes, it was like the man from the future, ruthless. There was a red paste around his hands, neck, and on the inside of his tux. Blood? Or Hair dye? No, it had to be hair dye. Right?

“Son…we need to go,” said Dad, pacing fast around the hallway.

“What about Mr. Buzby?” I asked, as I was being pulled through the front door.

We were halfway to the car. Dad’s eyes were beamed straight down to the cement floor.

“Mr. Buzby…” he paused, pulling me to the car. “We unfortunately won’t be seeing him anymore. He um… is not the man he used to be and well after what we just witnessed today; he’s decided to… retire.”

Dad had never told a lie before, and I could see why. I didn’t believe a word of it, but still I trusted him. Whatever he was doing I’m sure his intentions were good. Before we left, dad had gone back in to change into a better… well, a cleaner tuxedo. I wanted to say goodbye to Mr. Buzby but dad told me that he wanted to be left alone. I didn’t want to think of it but still all clung to the sides of my skull like pictures on a wall—death. And it was death that I could feel that was in the air.

On the car ride way back home, it was so quiet that I could hear the sound of my own breath. I looked over at dad and could still see a little of the red paste behind his ear. He never looked back at me once, his eyes just stayed beamed to the road. I was confused, scared, and frustrated all in one. All that had just happened, not once did he ever check to see if I was okay. It wasn’t like him. And so, then I asked the question that I’m sure he didn’t want me to ask.

“Did you kill him?”

Dads eyes then widened but they still stayed focused on the road, pondering on what I’d just said. His hands rubbed the steering wheel nervously.

“W-what was that son?” he swallowed.

“Did you kill him? Did you kill Mr, Buzby?” I repeated.

Dad then pulled over and stopped the car to the side of the road, while he sat and took a deep breath, with his chin tucked in towards his chest. He through his back to the head rest, and then gradually turned to me and said.

“No son… I didn’t.”

Did he just lie again? For the first time in my life my heart felt as if it was going to jump out from my chest. Out of all the people in the world he might’ve had a reason to kill, I never would have thought it be his best friend; a man that was like a father to him. Although, I was now beginning to wonder if Mr. Buzby was that to him at all.

“Son… there’s a lot about me you and your mom don’t know…” he said. “A lot that can’t be explained but I promise that everything I do moving forward will be for the best. And yes, I’ll explain everything to you both when the time comes.”

Dad then took his hand and ruffled my hair. He started the ignition and we were back on the road. I’d didn’t notice until I woke up but apparently, I’d fallen asleep. I looked out the window and we were nowhere that felt familiar to me. It definitely wasn’t home or downtown. It was completely an open field with what looked to be a warehouse sitting in the middle of it. Dad was nowhere around but his jacket to his tuxedo sat over the driver’s seat like blanket.

Eager to find out the truth, I reached over and pulled the jacket into my lap, checking the pockets for anything that would give me a clue about dad’s past. My hands would jittery, all until I felt something that felt like paper. Without thought, I pulled it out from its pocket.

It was a black and white photo. Something that looked like it was from the early 1800’s. In it was dad and a few others that looked like himself. One that looked like dad in his twenties, the other that looked like dad in his seventies, and another that looked as if he was the same age as me, whom of which resembled me. And now I know why grandfather always joked about how much I looked like dad. But that’s another story.

The car door then opened and I jumped, high enough to hit my head against the ceiling.

“Alright son… you ready to head home now?” dad asked.

“yeah…” I nodded.

Dad looked around the car. And then looked at the jacket in my lap. “Is everything alright… No, of course, it’s not… I don’t even know why I would ask you such a stupid question. Your just a kid for Christ sake… But please… trust me son, everything’s going to be just fine. I won’t let them hurt you…”

“Let who?” I asked.

“N-never mind… let’s get moving okay. Before your mom starts to worry.”

Suspiciously I nodded, and we are on our way.

When we pulled up to the driveway, mom was already outside waiting. She had tears running down her face, mascara and all, with her head down into her knees, all while the front door to the house was wide opened. Dad immediately hopped out of the car and rushed over to make his way over, and mom would throw herself into his arms, sobbing and shaking.

“They destroyed everything!” she cried.

“What?” asked dad. “Lidie what are you talking about? What happened?”

“They destroyed everything! They said that they were looking for something!”

“Jesus… Are you hurt? Did they…” concerned dad, looking all over moms’ body for any signs of abuse.

“No…” she said. “Well… one of them hit me… But that was it… They said they were looking for a specific tie and tuxedo… I mean, why the hell would they be looking for something so stupid Jonathan?”

Mom then pulled away from dad, slapping, scratching and clawing at him with all the frustration that had built for the time that we were gone. Whatever it was that was going on, mom had already put together that dad was the reason behind the house being destroyed and her getting hit. For as bad as dad was at lying, it was surprise that she didn’t find out sooner, although, she had never asked the right questions, I guess.

Our neighbors were at first, peeking through their windows with their beady eyes but then later they would disappear. Dad had done his best to calm mom down and put her back inside the house, but it was too late. The sound of sirens grew louder as they made there way over to the neighborhood. 

“Damn Jefferson’s,” whispered dad.

Thankfully before any cars had arrived, dad had finally gotten mom inside the house and sat her down on the sofa; he made me sit with her. There was a knock on the door.

“Stay here,” said dad.

But I didn’t… Instead, I followed.

“Hello sir, Mr. Cruze is it. Jonathan Cruze”

“Yes, that’s me,” dad replied nervously. “What’s the problem officer?”

The man that stood at the door had a flat hat and wore all black. He had vest strapped around his torso but even for child I could tell that it wasn’t the kind my dad wore with his tuxedo’s.

“Sir, we got a call from someone about a disturbance in front of your house… Said it might turn into domestic abuse if we weren’t careful.”

“No, nothing like that… You sure that wasn’t from another house,” dad swallowed.

“Nope, they said it came directly from this address,” said the policeman. “Sir do you mind if I come in.”

“I do… Sorry, but the house is a little messy and my wife is not in the proper clothing for guest if you catch my drift,” dad winked.

The policeman smiled. But still there was an awkward pause between dad and the policeman. Almost as if they were doing a standoff, except dad didn’t have a gun hanging from his hip like the man in front of him.

“That’s it Jonathan!” yelled mom, coming around the corner. “I can’t take this anymore I’m going home to stay with mom for a bit. Until…”

Dads eyes then widened. Shit, he whispered.

“Put your hands behind your back!” yelled the policeman, pulling his gun from the holster. “Yeah dispatch, yeah I got him.”

He had another gun that looked the same but had the color of a bumblebee, but I guess that was used for something else maybe to kill, who knows, but it looked a lot less horrifying than the one he held.

“No, stop!” yelled mom. “What are you doing?”

“This man is going in for domestic abuse,” yelled the policeman

“On whom??”

“You and the mark on your face,” said the policeman, walking dad out from the house.

Mom then ran over to dad, kissing him as hard as she could. Again, no one had noticed me, but it was trait I felt would come in handy later on. Something like a ghost.

“Wait!” yelled dad. “Please let me talk to my son… just two minutes…”

The policeman snarled. “Fine! But two minutes is all you get. And make it quick.”

The policeman had walked over to his car to do whatever cops do when reporting, while dad remained cuffed to the front grill of the car so that he wouldn’t run. It was stupid.

“Ok son listened carefully. Under the table in my study is a key held by tape. Take it and go inside the closest where I hold all my Tuxedos. Walk all the way in until you come across the red tux your mother bought me. Behind it will be a door, but before you can get to it you will have to walk past all the dirty suits. And promise me you want tell your mother… she might not try to bail me out. But behind that door everything will be explained. Can I count on you to do this?”

My body was completely frozen. I was just a kid. What could it have possibly been that dad wanted me to see? But then an image of that picture again popped up in my head. So, then again, I guess there was something for me to see. Something bigger than I could ever comprehend.

“Well, well, well…” said the policeman, lighting away a cigarette. “Looks like we got you as a connection to a murder to. My friend I think, I might’ve just hit the jackpot.”

“Murder… Jonathan what is he talking about?” asked mom, crying profusely.

“Son, can I count on you?” dad repeated.

I nodded and just before I said anything, the policeman would interrupt.

“Alright convo’s over, I’m taking you downtown,” he said. “Say goodbye to your dad boy, might not see him again.”

“Oh, piss off pig! Go eat a doughnut,” yelled dad.

“Yeah, like I haven’t heard that one before.”

As I watched the policeman pull off with dad, I walked mom back inside the house, thinking about the key in his study. But before I would even go to it. Mom was first priority. I fixed her a cup of tea, while she lied still sobbing on the sofa, curled into a fetal position. For everything that was good about our lives it seemed that within one day it had turned for the worst; I couldn’t blame her for feeling the way she did.

Nevertheless, mom had eventually cried herself to sleep. I was now standing in the middle of dads study, staring at his desk. It still had his shot of whiskey from earlier that morning on it, with half eaten bagel, somewhat burnt, but it was just the way he liked it, oddly. When I reached up under the table I could feel something cold, with plastic over the center of it. The key said the voice in my head. And then dads voice came right after, everything will be explained.

TO BE CONTINUED