Adam has been spending the last few days doing what he always does.
He’s seven years old, so he’s in 2nd grade. He’s learning numbers and words. Reading is a big thing. School is fine, but really, it’s all kind of a blur. The one thing he remembers is his teacher, Mx. Somber, who always seems to have something they want to say to him. But the time never seems to be right.
Mostly he likes coming home and playing. His parents always have time for him, even with their busy schedules. His older sister will make time for him too, but she’s busy being a superhero and a high schooler and all kinds of things. Everyone wants her to do stuff, like study, or save the world. Adam sorta gets that she’s busy, but honestly, isn’t she grown up? Can’t grown-ups handle everything?
One day, Adam comes running through the living room, holding onto a paper-crafted spaceship and making sputtering rocket noises. Jordan is on the couch, surrounded by books, working on homework on her tablet. The television is on, but she doesn’t seem to be paying attention to it.
Adam rockets his way around the couch a couple times, only for Jordan to throw the tablet down on the couch cushion and stand up angrily.
“Can you please stop interrupting me?” she yells.
This came out of nowhere. Adam shrinks back, hurt and afraid.
She sees it, and isn’t sure how to react at first, so defensively doubles down. “Can’t you see I’m studying here? Please.”
It doesn’t help. Adam was just playing. He wasn’t trying to do anything bad.
Jordan can clearly see that. She kneels down in front of him and looks him in the eye. “I’m sorry, Adam. I don’t mean that. I’m just at the end of my rope right now.”
Adam thinks hard. What would help? “I don’t have any more rope to give you,” he says apologetically. “I got a rubber band though?”
His big sister laughs at that, and tousles his hair. “Thanks, kiddo. No, I mean, people are always telling me what to do, how to do it, go here, do this. I never get any time for myself.”
“You could hop on the Solaris Gamma Two,” Adam says, holding up his paper spaceship. “It can teleport through time and stuff. Then you’d have time.”
Jordan pulls him into a quick appreciative hug. “I’d like that. Then maybe we could travel to the Cretaceous, and I could really see… but things would still be busy when I got back.”
Adam, being seven, has little comprehension of how adult life works. To him, everyone does what he does: learn about stuff during the day, then do whatever they want the rest of the time, at least until someone in authority tells them not to. Why would anyone do something they didn’t want to do?
He carefully assembles a thought from this understanding. “If you don’t like doin’ the stuff that keeps you busy, why not just quit? Mom and Dad said nobody asked you to be Peri, right? If you don’t like it, can you uhhh, give it back or something?”
Jordan looks startled by the question. But before she can answer, the entire house, and the rest of the world with it, are sliced in two by a humongous sword.