Las Vegas, Nevada, Traverse Point, present day.
Gilbert awoke from the shaking hand of Dumpster. He eyed Dumpster’s right hand, busy with a bloody finger, which would not stop squirming under his grip.
“Lar Surtana!” Dumpster said in a language Gilbert just heard moments before but didn’t understand. The finger stopped moving, the blood changed into a dark muddy black color, and crystallized into dust. In Dumpster’s left hand was a small wand the size of a very long pencil. The end stopped glowing blinding white, reduced to a bright red ember’s glow. He dropped it next to Gilbert. He then noticed the bluebird wiggle out of Dumpster’s breast pocket finding it’s way up to Dumpster’s shoulder. ...view middle of the document...
His large hand rested on Gilbert’s shoulder.
“What happened?” Gilbert said. He gazed down at his clothes and they were still dirty, unlike Dumpster’s interesting garments.
“Come let me show you and we’ll talk on the way. But first take a deep breath and exhale gradually. No, not too fast, slowly.” His words came out differently than how he sounded when in the trash dumpster. Gilbert noticed much more about the man who once lived in the streets. Now here stood a man as tall as his father. As ready to protect him as would his own father. Ready to help the Las Vegas lost boy. This new revelation gave him the strength he needed.
“Alright,” Gilbert’s head stopped spinning. “I’m okay. Who were those men?”
“No one to worry yourself about right now,” said Dumpster. “But those men took my parents,” Gilbert said.
“And we’re lucky we got away.”
Gilbert stood up with the help of Dumpster. Once on his feet, he turned around. The desert was gone. Everywhere he stared was as green as the hills he’d only seen in movies. Gilbert’s mouth dropped open. The desert vanished, as did the city built within...