The Road Not Taken

Chapter One

Winter time had come and gone, and the month of March was dwindling down to its final days.  It had seemed like a long cold winter and finally, after what seemed ages, the first really mild days of spring had arrived in the city of Chicago.  In apartment 209 at 711 Caldwell Avenue however, the changing of the seasons had gone largely unnoticed by Larry Appleton.

He had spent the last few weeks with his head buried in stacks of books and papers and file folders, spending countless hours pouring over facts, figures and statistics.  He had let mealtimes and bedtimes pass unnoticed as he researched various prominent political figures from the Chicago area.

He wanted to make sure this article was flawless, and he had been working tirelessly on it for what seemed like an eternity, but it was worth it.  Mr. Wainwright had promised him, that if it was good enough, he would make sure it ran on the front page of the Chicago Chronicle.  Ever since Larry had started to work there almost four years earlier, he had been dreaming of such an opportunity.

To say that Larry Appleton was a type "A" personality would have been an understatement.  Truth be told, he spent most of his time wound up tighter than a spring, even at the best of times, and he became even more intensely neurotic when he felt the pressure of a deadline looming in front of him, and he had never felt under more pressure than he did right at this moment.  As his deadline drew closer, he became more and more frantic, and tying his stomach up in knots was a part of this regular routine, as was drinking copious amounts of antacid to try and calm down that same stomach.

He glanced down at his watch, and was surprised to see that it was already noon hour.  He had been up until after 3 am and had only allowed himself four hours of sleep before he forced himself to get back up and get back to work.  Thankfully it was Saturday, and he had the whole afternoon ahead of him in which to work on it without having to stop.  He poured over his facts and figures again for the umpteenth time, double and triple checking; he wanted to make sure everything was perfect.

He had just started to reach for another file folder, when his concentration was broken by a loud clatter of pots and pans behind him, coming from the kitchen area of the apartment.  He glanced over his shoulder, long enough to see Balki, his cousin, best friend, and roommate, smiling over at him.  Balki was also unfortunately his biggest distraction.  Balki put a lid down over the pot in front of him, wiped his hands on a towel, and turned the heat off from under the bubbling pot of food.

Balki had been extra careful all morning to work silently.  This was no easy task for the young man with the large dark eyes, and equally dark hair.  He was outgoing by nature, and was in the habit of turning any task into a celebration, usually by way of singing and dancing and generally having fun.  But he had forced himself to be the very picture of restraint all morning.  In fact he had worked hard to be quiet for days now.  He knew from experience after sharing an apartment with his high strung cousin for five years, that when Cousin Larry was working on an article, it took very little to send him over the edge and cause him to nearly have a nervous breakdance.

But now it was noon, and he had watched as his cousin had neglected both his eating and sleeping these past few weeks, and as each day passed Balki grew more concerned that his friend was going to make himself sick over this article.

It had been the very reason he had been cooking all morning.  He had spent hours searching all over the city of Chicago for just the right ingredients for his stew.  It was famous in his homeland for being a surefire tonic for when someone had let themselves become run down, and he could see his cousin was in need of that same tonic now.

"There Cousin," he said.  "l will just leave this stew, to stew in its own juices." 

He immediately laughed at his own pun, and threw his hands upward, exclaiming...."Where do I come up with them?"  He then looked over at his cousin Larry.  "Do you want, a little taste now?"

Larry answered as he turned back to his article.  "No Balki, not especially.  Look I'm trying to finish up this article and you promised me you would give me complete and total silence all morning, with no distractions," Larry said firmly.

"Oh come on, Cousin," Balki replied.  He never could understand how his cousin could live in such a state of constant inner turmoil.

"You've been working on that for days and days now, and besides I just said morning, and it now is past noon.  Come on, it's time to take a break.  Why you don't come out with me for a walk in the park - just for an hour, while the stew finishes stewing." 

He once again laughed at his own joke lifting his hands heavenward.  "It will do you good to get away from all those papers, you need to breathe some fresh air into your lungs.  Besides you will think better after a break and some food."

Balki hated to see his cousin so tired and frazzled.

Larry sighed, he could feel one of those long drawn out conversations with Balki starting up - the kind that usually ended up with Larry getting a headache, and it was something he definitely did NOT have time for right now.

He turned and faced his cousin.  "Balki, please, don't start in on me.  I really need to finish this article up and I need peace and quiet to do it.  If you really want to help me feel more relaxed, then you will just go out to the park by yourself and let me get back to work."

"Cousin, no," said Balki.  "You need to take a break.  What the point is, for you to bust your buttocks to make for yourself a living, when you forget to make for yourself a life?  Now come on, it's a beautiful day outside, come with me for an hour and enjoy mothers nature.  Life is to enjoy."  Balki desperately wanted his cousin to loosen up and cut himself a little slack, to take some time to enjoy the beautiful things all around him.

Larry turned around and shot his cousin a withering glance.  "Balki, please, just go outside and leave me alone.  I don't want to go outside, I want to finish my article!"  Larry could feel his voice rising in anger.  "I don't have an hour to spare, I don't have ten minutes to spare.  In fact I don't even have one minute to waste arguing with you over whether or not I have ANY spare time.  I mean it....JUST LEAVE ME ALONE NOW!"  The anger and tension in his voice was rising with each word.

Balki's face betrayed his hurt feelings and he cast his dark eyes downward.  He looked like a little puppy who had just been scolded by his master.

"Okay, Cousin," he said quietly as he grabbed his jacket and slowly walked out the door, his head bowed low.

Larry paused for a moment, suddenly feeling guilty for his harsh treatment of his cousin.  He sighed and ran his fingers through his curly hair in frustration.  Why did he always let Balki do this to him?  True he was not a patient man at the best of times and relaxing was definitely not his forte, but in his defence, Balki could try the patience of a saint.

Larry decided that since he was on his feet now anyway, he might as well make himself a cup of coffee before he got back to work.  He walked over to the stove and glanced at the huge pot of "stew" Balki had been cooking.  He took the lid off and glanced inside.  It actually smelled pretty good, and at least when he looked into the pot, nothing was starring back out at him.  With Myposian food, it was better to go into it with the attitude that you had, "Better eat it, before it ate you."

Larry went over to the counter and grabbed a mug for his coffee.  As he glanced over into the sink he seen the dishes from earlier on in the day.  Balki had gotten up at 2 am and insisted on making Larry some coffee and a sandwich.  Again he felt a momentary pang of guilt as he realized that there was no other person on the face of the earth who would have gotten up at 2 am to make him a snack to help keep him going.

Never mind he thought to himself.  One trip up the Sears tower would be all that was needed to make it up to Balki....he forgave Larry for even the worst offence very easily.

It had been just over five years since the young man with the large expressive eyes had shown up on his doorstep, announcing that he was his cousin from the small Mediterranean Island of Mypos.  Larry had taken him, and his well ordered life had never been the same since.

Most of the time he just didn't understand how his cousin did it.  How did he stay so carefree?  Life's day to day hardships never seemed to have the slightest effect on his happy-go-lucky cousin.  Life never seemed to dampen his spirit.  He had decided long ago that fate was somehow looking out for Balki.  In fact he was convinced that the fates must love souls like Balki, who seem to sway effortlessly with the harsh winds of life, then spring back with a smile.  Always looking at life with a blithe optimism.  No, he would never fully understand his Myposian cousin.

He walked back over to the sofa and sat down with his coffee, and prepared to finish his article.  He had to get it just right.  This was his big chance for a major career advancement, and he wasn't about to let anything get in his way of what he felt was rightfully his due.  He was determined not to let anything mess it up for him, not even Balki's cajoling and preaching were going to distract him.  He had to stay focused.  Besides he was coming down home stretch.  Just another couple of hours and he would be finished.  After that he could spend all day tomorrow catching up on his sleep.  Something he had been sorely lacking these past few weeks.


Chapter Two

The afternoon sun was sending long shadows across the floor of the apartment as Larry sighed contentedly.  He had just finished his article and it was still only 3pm.  It was a brilliant article, even if he did say so himself.  He picked up the finished work and carried it over to the kitchen table and set it down.  He was just about to pour himself another cup of coffee and head for a nice long hot shower, when the door burst open, and in bounced his overly exuberant cousin.

"Cousin!" he said joyously.  "You won't believe what just happen to me....there I was in the park, sitting on my favourite park bench with a bag of peanuts, when finally after days and days of trying, my little chipmunk friend climb up on my lap and take a peanut right out of my hand.  Isn't that wonderful?  I think I will call him Chipper."  Then without missing a beat or pausing to take a breath, he said, "How's your article coming along?  Did you finish yet?"

"Yes, finally," Larry said.  "And now I am going to take my cup of coffee, grab a hot shower and take a nap....a beautiful, long 24 hour nap."

"Well that sounds fine Cousin, but first you have to eat.  I cook this stew especially for you."  Balki turned the flames back on underneath the pot on the stove.  "It's full of special ingredients to help you build up your strength and calm your nerves, so you can relax better.  It contains some".....

Larry stopped Balki mid sentence.  "Don't tell me, I don't want to know.  I think I can live without eating anything that may or may not contain some mysterious animal parts or rare fungus," he declared.  "Besides, Balki, I'm not hungry.  I just want to grab a quick shower and take a nap."

Larry walked over to the kitchen table and picked up the stack of papers that was his finished "masterpiece", intending to put it safely in his briefcase, ready to present to Mr. Wainwright first thing Monday morning.  He was already imagining the praise and accolades he was sure to receive for his writing, which he was sure was the best piece of journalism in the Chronicle's history.  Not even Marshall and Walpole had done anything that was even close to what Larry felt he had accomplished this time.

In the time it had taken for all of these thoughts to run through Larry's mind, Balki had dished up a large bowl of his latest culinary mystery, and had brought it over to the kitchen table, and he was now standing bedside Larry, his arms extended proffering the steaming bowl of stew.  He had one of those, "I'm not going to easily give in" looks on his face, the determination was abundantly evident in his dark eyes.  Experience told Larry he was about to be in for a long drawn out argument, and he could already feel a headache coming on.

Looking back on it later, he often wished he had just taken the bowl and eaten just enough of it to assuage Balki.  But hindsight is 20/20 and he was tired, add to that fact that he was also stubborn and proud by nature, and not one to easily give in, once he dug his heels in.  All of these things made him more irritable and even less inclined to give into his cousin.  He could feel his impatience and anger rising, and unfortunately he drew his strength from these two hostile emotions, and so he did dig in his heels, determined to have his way in the matter.

Balki too had a look on his face that was pure determination.  Cousin Larry had not been eating and sleeping properly for weeks now, and Balki was sure he was on his way to giving himself an ulcer.  Besides, he had held up his end of the deal.  Balki had given his cousin all the space and quiet time he had asked for in order for him to write his article and now that it was done, he felt it was now Cousin Larry's turn to give in a little bit and at least eat the food he had so lovingly prepared for him.  He decided that no matter what it took, he was going to make sure his cousin got the nourishment he was convinced he needed, and this stew was exactly what his burnt out cousin needed.

"No, Cousin," Balki declared.  "I am not going to give in this time.  You need to eat, you need to eat so you won't get sick.  It will do you good.  I mean it!" the Mypiot said.  "I am not moving until you take this food and eat it, so you might as well just sit your buttocks down and get it over with."  His voice softened, "PLEASE, cousin," he pleaded, with genuine concern on his face.  "I'm worried for you, I don't want my best friend in the whole world to get sick."  His voice was in earnest and even Larry could see it was full or worry and care for his well being.

This ought to have touched Larry, and in a sense it did --- but in the wrong sense.  He knew he was being unreasonable, and yet it only served to make his pride and stubbornness all the more intense.  He could feel his anger rise.

Balki was in fact right; he did need to eat.  Larry knew it and for some reason the thought that he should rightfully give in to his cousin, combined with the lack of food and sleep, and stress of the past few weeks, only increased his resolve all the more.  Besides heaven only knew what was in it.

Larry turned around and set his article back down on the table, folded his arms defiantly and turned around to face Balki.

"Balki, stop smothering me.  You are not my mother; that position had already been filled.  Now get that stuff," he said pointing at the steaming bowl of food, "away from me."

Balki stiffened.  "Cousin, NO not until you eat."

Larry, in frustration and anger, reached over to grab the dish from Balki's hand with the intention of taking it over to the sink and pouring it down the drain.  He lifted his hands and made a grab for the bowl.

Balki was caught off guard by Larry's sudden unexpected movement, and so as Larry lifted his hands toward Balki, Balki jumped, half in surprise, half in fear, which caused him to loosen his grip on the bowl of food.  The dish sat precariously on the tip of Balki's fingers as Larry hands made contact with the bowl.  It was all that that it took for the bowl to become airborne the second Larry's hands hit the bowl.  The bowl, contents and all, flipped over upside down onto the table directly on top of the newly finished newspaper article.

It took a few seconds for it to register in Larry's mind what had just happened.  He looked at his article.  All those sleepless nights, all those hours of writing and rewriting....ruined in just a few seconds.  It was entirely covered in food.  The papers were soaked, the writing barely legible beneath the food stains.  It would have to be completely re-copied...every last word of it.

Larry's eyes narrowed in rage.  He glared at Balki, who had raised his hands to cover his mouth in horror.

To say Larry was about to lose it would again, have been an understatement.  His anger was immense and clearly evident.  He knew it was actually he himself who had knocked the bowl out of Balki's hands.  The knowledge that is was in a large part his own fault made things worse, and he was now incensed both against himself and Balki, but particularily against Balki.

It was going to take him all night and probably all day tomorrow to re-do his entire article.  This knowledge only served to feed his anger.

At that moment the thought ran through his mind, that he wished he had never met Balki.  In fact at that moment in time it was a thought that ran strongly through his mind, and that his anger approved of such horrible thoughts made his heart burn even more with shame, which only served to fuel his anger at Balki.

If only he hadn't reached out to grab that stupid bowl.  Why couldn't have Balki just left him alone when he had asked?  This thought was uppermost in Larry's heart and mind, and he knew he could not open his mouth to speak without spiteful ungenerosity.

Balki, quickly started to clean up the mess, trying in vain to wipe clean the papers in front of him.  His voice was trembling and he was close to tears.  "Oh, Cousin," he wailed.... "I so so sorry.  Please forgive Balki." 

The Mypiot clearly felt horrible.  He knew his cousin's article was ruined.  He wished with all of his heart he had just left Cousin Larry alone to have his shower.  He had only wanted his cousin to take care of himself, and now he had made things so much worse for his already over stressed cousin.  He could feel the tears forming in his eyes.

Larry could see how devastated Balki was and for some odd reason, it only made him angrier.

Balki looked over in misery.  He had never seen his cousin this angry before.  He knew this time he had pushed things too far.

When Larry did manage to open his mouth to speak, his voice was as cold as ice, making the next words out of his mouth seem all the more believable, and all the more cruel.  "I wish I'd never met you.  You're nothing but trouble." 

The words spilled out of his mouth and into the room.  They cut through the silence like a dagger, and exposed Larry's wicked thoughts, his private character flaws now openly exposed for them both to see.

Once the words were out, Larry's anger oozed out of him, and left him immediately sorry and ashamed.  He was astounded at how cruel he had just been.  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them.

If only he could recapture those words, he thought.  But once a word is spoken out loud, there is no taking it back.

At that moment for some reason, all Larry could see was all the love, support, and kindness Balki had given him over the last five years.  How he was constantly cheering him up, bolstering his spirits when he was down, and encouraging him, when he was unsure of himself.  He was always in Larry's corner and always had his back.  He was unswervingly kind and ready to help no matter what Larry had asked.  There were so many many times in the past Larry had dragged Balki into some hair brained scheme, and Balki never once had said anything as cruel as he had just done.  In fact he knew with all his heart that Balki was totally incapable of such meanness, period.  Larry felt horrible.

There was a dreadful silence in the air, which was made even more dreadful when he looked into Balki's face.  The evil words hung in the air inside the apartment.  Balki's face held a look of stunned agony.  The hurt and pain in his eyes were overwhelming.  It was as if Larry had physically stuck a knife into Balki's heart.  The colour had drained from Balki's face... it was a look that would haunt Larry forever.

Balki opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.  Suddenly his dark pain-filled eyes welled up and huge tears ran freely down his cheeks.  He momentarily stood frozen in front of Larry, then after letting out one immense sob, he ran to the door, grabbed his coat and ran out of the apartment.

Larry quickly came to himself and started to run after Balki.  He opened the door and yelled down the stairwell towards the back of his quickly retreating cousin.  "Balki, wait, it's not true!  Please come back, I didn't mean it."  But Balki continued on down the stairs of the apartment building, as if he had not heard Larry's cries.  He continued down the stairs and ran out of the door of the apartment building and into the street.


Chapter 3

Larry retreated back into the apartment in total despair.  He berated himself over and over.  No apology could erase those words.  It was pointless to try and think of one; nothing he could say could cover his offence.  How could he have been so cruel?  How could he have let his anger get the better of him.  He slowly closed the door to the apartment, his heart heavy with remorse and guilt; it was more than he could bear.

He walked over to the table where he glanced down at the mess Balki had tried to clean up so quickly.  He found he could not force himself to look at his article now sitting ruined on the table.  He looked at it with hatred and disgust.  How had he let those few sheets of paper turn him into a mean and hateful monster?  How had he let his pride and ambition blind him to the feelings of his cousin?  He had placed more value on some worthless pieces parchment than he had on the dearest person in the whole entire world.  What kind of man was he?

For the rest of the afternoon he walked around the apartment.  The once coveted silence was so prevalent that it seemed to close in around him, suffocating him to the point where he felt he had to open the window just to catch his breath.  A horrible loneliness fell upon him and he longed only see Balki walk through that door.

Larry needed to hug him.  He had to find a way to somehow convince Balki that he didn't mean it.  And it was true, he had NEVER meant it.  He loved Balki like a brother.... in fact he loved him more than a brother.  It was if Balki was actually a part of him... the better part.

All he could think of now was of all the great times they had shared in the past.  Of all the added quality Balki had brought into his life.  The private conversations that he had had with Balki were so effortless, he could be himself.  He was at his most honest and he was most at ease when he was enjoying a pleasant evening at home, just talking with Balki.

Somehow over the last little while, he had lost sight of that fact.  He had taken Balki for granted.  The only thing he wanted now was to have Balki here.  He needed to make Balki understand these thoughts that were in his heart.  He needed Balki to know that nothing of what he had said before was true.  That he was deeply sorry and that he would do whatever it took to make it up to his friend.

As the evening wore on, Larry became more and more concerned.  It had been hours and Balki still had not returned.

He had cleaned the apartment up and did the dishes.  He had soon begun to realize that it would only actually take him a couple hours to re-write the article.  Once it had dried out, the stains had faded and he could clearly see what he had written.  But at this point in time he loathed what that article now represented and he wanted nothing more to do with it.  He only wanted Balki to come home safe and sound so he could try and apologize.

Larry walked over to the window and climbed out onto the fire escape in the hopes of seeing Balki coming up the street.  As he stepped out he noticed that the temperature had dropped significantly, and he knew Balki only had on his light jacket and that he had been dressed for the afternoon temperatures that had been much much warmer.  He looked hopefully up the street, but there was no sign of the Mypiot.

He shivered and came back into the apartment.  He glanced down at his watch and was shocked to see it was well past midnight.

"Balki, where are you?" he said out loud, his voice bouncing back off of the apartment walls, only emphasizing how empty it seemed without Balki's presence there to fill up the room.

He couldn't just sit there any longer.  This was his fault and he had to find some way to fix it, to make things alright again.

He went over to the door and grabbed his coat and put it on.  He would go out and find his friend, and bring him back home where he belonged.  He would beg him for forgiveness.  He would do whatever it took.

He was no longer concerned about articles and deadlines; only finding Balki mattered.

Before he went out the door he reached around to the hook on the back of the door and grabbed Balki's heavy coat.  Wherever Balki was, he would need it.  Larry opened the door, stepped out into the hall and pulled the apartment door closed behind him.


Chapter 4

Larry had been wandering all around the streets of Chicago for hours, checking out all of Balki's usual haunts.  Each new place he stopped left him hoping and praying that he would find him, or that perhaps someone, anyone had seen his cousin.  But so far he had had no luck.

He was, however, surprised at just exactly how many people on the street knew who Balki was.  Everyone liked Balki, and justifiably so; Balki was easy to like.

Fresh pangs of guilt washed over Larry, as he thought about what he had done.  Balki was without a doubt the kindest and sweetest person anywhere in the entire world.  He upbraided himself once more, how could he have been so awful?  Balki was like a rare orchid, a unique and precious flower that Larry had crushed with his hateful words.  He just had to find him.

As the night wore on, Larry was beginning to lose all hope of ever finding his cousin.  There was just no sign of Balki anywhere, and it had now gone on past 2 AM.  At last he decided that perhaps the best course of action would be to just go home and wait.  Maybe, with any luck, Balki would have already returned home.

As Larry walked along the streets, he came to the spot that marked the entrance to the local park.  Maybe Balki had gone in there.  He vaguely remembered Balki saying something about a chipmunk earlier on in the day.  Suddenly he wished that he had paid more attention to Balki's story.  He wished he could see those large expressive eyes dancing with excitement as he was in the middle of one of his stories, regaling him with reports of his latest wondrous adventure.  Instead all he could picture now was the pain and sorrow in Balki's eyes as he had ran out of the apartment hours before.  This whole state of affairs tore at his conscience and his heart turned against him.  The knowledge of what he had done sickened him with disgust and shame.

Larry turned and walked inside the park gates.  After about ten minutes of wandering around aimlessly, looking around for that familiar face, he came to a park bench.  He decided he needed a rest, and so he stopped and sat down.  As he sat there he noticed the remnants of several broken peanut shells laying around on the ground.  Suddenly he remembered what Balki had said: He had been feeding the chipmunks peanuts, most likely on this very bench.  Suddenly he felt a few stray tears slide down his face, and he whimpered out into the empty night air... "Balki, where are you?"

Out of nowhere, a huge thick bank of fog rolled over the grounds of the park, completely obscuring his vision.  It was so thick and dense that the trees that stood only a few feet away where now just mere phantoms, faint shadows rising out of the gloom.  Larry shivered and pulled his coat tighter around his body as he draped Balki's coat that he was still carrying over his knees for extra warmth.  He hoped Balki was not out in this cold when he was not dressed for it.  If he got sick, Larry knew he would be to blame for that too.  Suddenly the wind shifted and the fog dissipated as quickly as it had formed.

"Hello there, Larry," said a woman's voice right next to him.  Larry jumped up with a start and spun around.  He turned to see a woman sitting next to him on the park bench.  She was old and yet somehow young all at the same time.  From some angles when he looked at her, she appeared to be a young girl.  At other times she seemed to be old and weathered with age, but through it all her eyes shone out with the most vibrant violet colour that he had ever seen in his life.

"Who are you?  Where did you come from?  How do you know my name?  Have we met?" Larry asked the series of questions in rapid succession, with more than just a little touch of surprise in his voice.

"Well, in answer to all of your questions in order, Grace, close by, I've known you your whole life, and not face to face.  How's that?" she smiled.

Larry shook his head in confusion as he tried to match each one of her answers to his questions.  Finally he said slowly, "Well, Grace is it?" 

The woman nodded.

"I can't place you, and I am sure we have never met before, but what on earth are you doing out so late at night?"

"I came to walk you home," she said.  And with that she stood up and grabbed Larry by the arm and started leading him off towards the park entrance.

Larry was caught off guard and he was tired, both physically and emotionally, and so without any protest at all, he allowed himself to be lead out of the park entrance and back out onto the city streets. 


Chapter 5

Larry walked along in silence, lost in his own thoughts with the woman who called herself Grace walking along beside him.  Something about her was odd, but he couldn't quite place what it was.  The one thing he was sure of, was that for some reason, he was allowing her to lead him home without question.  He was too emotionally spent to argue with anyone anymore anyway.

Soon they arrived at the entrance of the big brick apartment building at 711 Caldwell Avenue.  Larry asked if the woman she had far to go, to which she said..."No.  I am here." 

Funny, Larry could not remember ever seeing her in the building before.  Was she new?  She must know Balki, he surmised, and why not, everyone else knew Balki.  He turned around on the bottom step and wished her a good evening and started up the stairs to his apartment.

Larry and Balki only lived on the second floor of the building, and as tired as he was, he was grateful it was not up any higher.  He climbed slowly up the stairs and walked the short distance to # 209.  He pulled out his key and put it in the lock, but nothing happened.  That was weird; it didn't seem to fit.  He tried again, without any more success the second time than he had had the first time.  He started to rattle the door knob and then he started to bang the knob, thinking maybe it was seized up.

Without any warning the door flew open and a large heavy set man wearing a football jersey and boxer shorts opened the door.  "What the hell do you think you're doing, Mister?" he yelled at Larry.

Larry opened his mouth, "What am I doing?  I live here.  What are YOU doing here?"

The man flung open the door and grabbed Larry by the shirt collar and shoved him into the door jam.  "Look pal, I don't what you've been drinking tonight, but you've got the wrong apartment.  Now beat it before I call the cops!"

Larry was looking over his shoulder into the apartment in amazement.  The apartment was his, but the furnishings were not.  In fact other than the layout, nothing in the apartment was familiar to him.

He man gave Larry a final shove back out into the hall and slammed the door shut in his face.

Larry turned around in a total state of confusion, only to see Grace standing quietly behind him, watching him intently.

"What's going on here?" his voice suddenly took on an air of distrust.  "Just exactly who or what are you?" he demanded.  "Where did you really come from?"

"Oh, I've always been fairly close by Larry," she replied gently.

"I don't understand any of this," he said.  "Why are you here?" 

"Oh, I guess you could say I am here doing a little soul searching," she said with a small smile.  "You see Larry, I am your guide." 

"My guide?" he asked with a confused look on his face. 

"Well your guardian angel then, if that term makes you feel more comfortable," she replied.

Larry looked over at her and said sarcastically, "Trust me, comfortable is not the word I would use to describe what I am feeling right now.  Will you please just explain to me what is going on?"

"You mean you have not figured it out yet?  Larry Appleton you have been given an amazing opportunity.  You get to have your wish granted."

"Wish?  What wish?  I didn't wish for anything," he said.  "Not unless you can bring Balki home to me again."

"Ah, but you did make a wish this evening, don't you remember?  You wished that Balki had never come into your life.  Remember?"

Larry gasped in horror...."No!  You don't understand!  I didn't mean it," he cried, and he suddenly felt even more ashamed that this woman knew what cruel words he had cast in the face of his very best friend.

Grace looked into Larry's face and continued.  "Well, your words were heard, and it was decided that it would be a good idea if you got exactly what you asked for."

Larry turned to her accusingly.  If she knew this much, then she had to have known that he had not meant it.  Not even for one second did he mean those vicious words.  He wasn't even sure how those words had come out of his mouth.

"Decided?  Who decided?" he asked.

Grace looked over at him with a hint of amusement on her face.  "Who do you think?" she asked him in a tone that clearly meant, you've got to be kidding, right?

"I still don't think I totally understand," Larry said.  A real genuine feeling of uneasiness was coming over him now.

"You will soon," Grace answered.

Larry sat down on the top step, defeated.  What was he supposed to do now?  His brow furrowed and he turned toward Grace.  "So you're telling me that Balki doesn't exist?"

Grace rolled her eyes heavenward, and she let out a long sigh.  "Well of course he exists.  Balki is real.  Only in the present reality, Balki isn't a part of your life.  You are both on separate paths in this life."

"I don't understand how can that be," said Larry.  "Balki came to Chicago to specifically find me, and he did.  Are you saying he never left Mypos?"

"Oh no," said Grace.  "Balki is in Chicago all right.  He did come to find you.  The only difference is, that instead of opening the door and inviting Balki in that night five years ago, you turned him away."

Larry's jaw dropped.  "But I wouldn't do that to Balki," he stammered.

"Oh, but in this reality, you did exactly that.  So the two of you now live totally separate lives.  You are perfect strangers to each other."

Larry stood up in stunned silence.  He ran his fingers through his hair saying over and over. 

"No no no!  This can't be happening.  It cannot be happening to me."  For the first time he realized he was no longer carrying Balki's coat, but for the life of him he could not remember setting it down anywhere.  He looked all around him frantically needing to have some small connection left that tied him to his best friend, something to hold on to that was Balki.  But the coat was no where to be seen.

"It's gone," said Grace.

"What?" Larry answered.

"Balki's coat," Grace calmly stated matter of factly.  "You never had it."

"But I did," insisted Larry.  "I was carrying it with me tonight."

"You never had it, because you and Balki do not know each other."

Larry threw himself down once more on to the top step.  Finally after a long silence, he lifted up his head and glanced at Grace.  "So tell me," he slowly asked.  "Just exactly where do I live?"

As soon as the words left his mouth, the scene in front of his eyes changed.  Suddenly he was standing outside of an all too familiar door.  He turned around and faced Grace.  "This is the apartment I was living in the night Balki first came to Chicago and knocked on my door.  You mean I am still living above the Ritz discount store?"

Grace nodded.  "Go inside," she said, "It's your apartment."

"But I no longer have the key," Larry said.

"Sure you do.  It's in your pocket," she said.

Larry dug the key he had just tried at the previous apartment out of his pocket and inserted it into the lock.  He felt the click and as he turned the knob.  The door swung open wide.


Chapter 6

Larry slowly stepped over the threshold and into the apartment.  It was as if he had stepped back in time to five years ago, to the period just before Balki had arrived in his life and added the warm touches of his Myposian homeland to the room.

Nothing had changed.  It looked as if time had moved on and left the apartment behind.  It seemed sad and lonely.  Even after only a few seconds in the room Larry could feel it hanging in the air.  Something was missing; the spark was gone.

Larry entered the room and sat down on the chair in front of the fireplace.  Grace walked in behind him and quietly closed the door.  It was a lot to absorb for Larry.  How had he ended up in this situation, he wondered, even though in his heart he knew exactly what events had brought him to this point.  It was his selfishness and his blind ambition that had caused him to put his own desires and wants ahead of Balki's feelings.  And this was the price he was paying for it.  Balki was gone.

He was sitting in his chair lost in his thoughts, when he was suddenly brought round by a sudden knock on his door.  He slowly got up and opened the door.  Standing there on the other side was Mrs. Schleggelmilch, and she was visibly upset.

"Mrs. Schleggelmilch" Larry said.  "What's wrong?"

"As if you didn't know, you little weasel," she replied angrily.

"I just found out it was you who complained about my having a cat to Mr. Twinkacetti.  Thanks to you I've been evicted," she was shaking her finger in Larry's face.  "I don't know how you live with yourself," she continued on with her tirade.  "You know when you first moved in here you used to be such a nice young man.  Now it's gotten so that it's almost impossible to tell you and that boss of yours apart.  Thanks for nothing!" she hissed and she turned and walked away.

Larry's jaw dropped open as he watched the older woman storm away.  He closed the door and slowly turned to Grace in disbelief.

"What's she talking about?" he said.  "I haven't worked at the Ritz Discount for four years now."

Grace looked over at him and quietly said, "No Larry, you still work for Donald Twinkacetti.  You never left the Ritz."

"No," said Larry.  "I work at the Chicago Chronicle.  I left the Ritz shortly after I won tenth place in the Chicago Gazette photo contest.  In fact it was Roger Morgan who helped choose my picture to win the prize.  It was on the strength of that photo that I was hired on at the Chronicle in the first place."

"No, Larry. I am afraid you didn't win tenth place in that contest.  You see, Balki was not here to talk you into not giving up on your dream when you had thrown in the towel.  You never went back out found that picture you wanted.  You and Balki never climbed up on that roof and got trapped with Mr. Twinkacetti, and so there was no prize winning photo.  You never entered that contest period.  In fact it was then that you gave up on your dream of getting hired at a newspaper for good.  You have spent the last five years of your life feeling sorry for yourself.  It has slowly eaten away at you and you are now a bitter, cynical, callous man who has shut himself off from the rest of the world.  Your entire day now revolves around work, brooding and regret, and it has slowly turned your heart into cold stone," Grace said.

Larry sat down in stunned silence.  This was just all too much for him to take in.

Suddenly his head snapped up.  "Jennifer!" he yelled out.  "I need to see Jennifer.  I know she will understand."  Just the thought of her made him feel better.  She was now probably the only good thing left in his life.


Chapter 7

Larry's heart was wildly beating as he reached up and knocked on the door of the apartment where his girlfriend Jennifer and her roommate Mary Anne lived.  He hoped that their jobs as stewardesses had not taken them off to some far away place right now.

The door slowly opened and Mary Anne's head appeared.  Finally, thought Larry, a friendly face in the wilderness of confusion that his life had now become.

"Oh, it's you, Appleton," she said curtly.  "Come to gloat, did you?  Mrs. Schleggelmilch told me about what you did, and let me warn you right now, if you even think about ratting me out to Twinkacetti over my dog, you'll be sorry," she said.

She was clearly angry with him, and it caught him off guard.

Larry stopped, "I came to see Jennifer," he stammered.  "Is she here?" 

"Jennifer?  Jennifer got married eight months ago.  She and her husband moved to Paris.  You know, if you were a little more sociable you would have known that," she said sarcastically, and she turned and slammed the door in his face.

Married?  Jennifer married?  To whom, he wondered.  The news threw Larry even further down into his pit of despair.  Everything in his world was falling apart before his eyes, and he was powerless to stop its downward spiral.

As he walked back into his cheerless apartment, he went over and threw himself back down into the chair by the fireplace.

"It's amazing, isn't it?," Grace said as she came and stood beside him.  "How much difference one person can make in the lives of so many others.  You see Balki was not there to join the gym, and so Jennifer never came into the Ritz to get him to sign his application form.  You never went to the gym that day and Balki didn't ask Jennifer if she would go out on a date with you.  None of those events exist anymore.  In fact, you and Jennifer were never more than neighbours who occasionally passed each other on the stairs.  You stayed virtual strangers.  Jennifer eventually got back together with her old college boyfriend Bill Madden.  And as you just heard, they got married eight months ago and moved away to Paris."

Larry sadly got up and started to walk around the apartment.  He wished he himself had never existed now.  His eyes gazed over the room and they stopped when they got to a large pile of unopened mail on his coffee table.  He stooped over and grabbed the top letter.  It was one that he had obviously written to Elaine.  It had been stamped Return to sender, not accepted by addressee.

Larry looked up at Grace with a questioning look on his face.

"You and Elaine have not spoken in years," Grace explained.  "She still blames you for having to give up her dream of becoming a concert pianist.  Again, Balki was not here to intervene when she came to visit all those years ago, and without your support and blessing, she ended up giving in to you and your parents' wishes.  She went back to Madison and attended college.  She now spends her days as an accountant, feeling miserable and unfulfilled, for which she blames you.  She has vowed never to speak with you again."

Larry was just starting to digest this information, when he once more heard a knock on his door.  He was almost afraid to answer this time.  He wasn't sure who he had turned into, but he was clearly not a nice person, and he was definitely not well liked.  In retrospect, he should have followed his gut instinct and ignored the knocking.

As he opened the door, he saw a man who was about the same age as he was standing there.  "Are you Appleton?" he asked. 

"Uh... Yes," Larry said slowly.

The man pulled back his fist and punched Larry in the jaw sending back into the door jamb and sprawling onto the floor.

The man looked down on Larry and yelled, "The next time you want to insult somebody, you had better make sure it is not my wife.  And rest assured we will never shop in your rat's nest of a store again.  And you can tell that to your snake of a friend, Twinkacetti!"

With that parting remark he turned and stormed off down the stairs.


Chapter 8

Larry, still holding his jaw, rose wearily to his feet and leaned against the wall.  He slowly turned around and walked back into his apartment.

He looked around at the cold cheerless atmosphere that hung in the air.  Every place he looked was a memory of Balki.

The couch where Balki slept each night, holding Dimitri in his arms.  It was also where they had all sat together the night that they had had their first date with Jennifer and Mary Anne.  It was one of the best nights of his life, even though he had been in excruciating pain after they had over-done their workout at the gym.  It was the same couch he and Balki sat on to exchange gifts on their very first Christmas together.  Larry had been in a foul mood over not being able to get home to Madison for Christmas.  Once again it had been Balki who had pulled him out of his trap of self pity.

He thought now of the beloved tapestry that Balki had poured so much love and attention into making for him.  He would have given anything to be able to hold that tapestry now, to wrap it around himself in the hopes that he could somehow feel like Balki was still there with him.  His heart ached for his best friend.  It was a dull empty ache that he knew would not go away.

A great weight built up steadily in his chest.  There came upon him the same disquieting thought that had been stealing into his consciousness ever since this whole ordeal began.  He was afraid to voice the thought out loud, to ask the question that had been plaguing him all evening.  But as frightened as he was to find out the answer, he knew he had to ask it.

He shifted uncomfortably on his feet, and he slowly turned around to face Grace.  He felt breathless, as if he had been running in a marathon.  Finally he opened his mouth and said the words out loud.

"Please," he asked Grace.  "I need to know.  What happened to Balki?"

Grace looked at him with an almost satisfied smile.  "I wondered when you'd get around to asking me this question?  I was hoping that you wouldn't wait too long."

"Come," she said.  "I'll show you." 


Chapter 9

From out of nowhere a mist swirled around and surrounded Larry.  It gradually receded back and Larry felt as if he had become disembodied and was in the air looking down on the world, which in fact was not too far from the truth.

As he looked down he let out an involuntary gasp.  There before him was Balki!

He was standing outside Larry's apartment door, just has he had done five years earlier.  He had all his earthly possessions strapped onto his back.

This time however, Balki's face wore a look that clearly indicated confusion and fear.  He looked lost and lonely, and Larry instinctively knew in his heart, who had caused that look on Balki's face.  He understood clearly that he had obviously just turned Balki away.

It was torture for Larry to watch the young immigrant he had grown to care so deeply for be treated so callously.  It was even worse to watch because Larry knew it was he himself who had inflicted that callous treatment on the young man.

Larry continued to watch as Balki slowly turned from the door and headed dejectedly down the stairs and back out on to the street.  Balki just stood there for a long time outside the door.  He was clearly unsure which way he should turn, as if trying to decide which direction offered some hope of a place to stay.  He looked so confused and alone.

At that moment in time, Larry truly hated himself.

Finally the young immigrant sighed and turned to his right and slowly walked up the sidewalk.

He had been walking aimlessly up the street for about ten minutes, when he stopped outside a small corner coffee shop.  He paused as if trying to make up his mind about something.  Larry watched as Balki slowly put his hand into his coat pocket and pulled out a small handful of change.  He studied the coins in his hand as if he were checking to see how much money he had.  Finally after another long pause, Balki pushed open the door of the coffee shop and stepped inside.

Larry and Grace were instantly transported to the inside of the coffee shop.  By this point, Larry had ceased to be shocked by such an occurrence.  After all this whole situation was completely surreal.

Balki slowly made his way to a corner booth and sat down dejectedly.  The coffee shop was small, but very clean and pleasantly decorated.  It had a country type of charm, and the air smelled of a mixture apple pie and coffee.

No sooner had Balki sat down, than its owners appeared from out of the back room.  They were an older couple in their late sixties, and it became immediately clear that Balki had wandered into a little mom and pop style of coffee shop.

The woman approached Balki, with a pen and pad and a smile.

"Good evening.  What can I get for you, young man?" she asked.  She had a kind pleasant voice, and a small plastic name tag indicated that her name was Betty.

Balki placed the small pile of coins onto the table in front of her.

"What I can buy with this?" he asked her, his lack of lingual dexterity was obvious.

Betty looked over at the young man with the dark eyes and clearly she could see the fear and confusion that rested on the handsome young face.  She glanced over at his pile of meager possessions crammed into his backpack.  Her heart went out to him and she smiled gently at the lost soul sitting in front of her who was so obviously all alone in the world.

"I'll tell you what," she said, putting her hand on Balki's shoulder comfortingly.  "It's getting close to closing time and we still have some food left that we have not sold yet.  Since it really would be a shame to have to just throw it away, what do you say I bring it over here and you can finish it off for us---no charge?"  She continued to speak, "That way, it saves us wasting good food by having to throw it in the garbage bin," she finished.

The statement was an obvious lie, but Balki's naivete did not catch on to that fact.

Balki eyes moistened and he reached over and hugged her emotionally.  "Oh, thank you," he said gratefully.

Yes, thought Larry....thank you.

Continue . . . .