Once inside the theater itself, which only had about a hundred seats over ten rows and a screen just slightly bigger than Jace’s dad’s living room television, they stopped and looked around for good spots before the previews started. There were only three other families inside, all five of the present children boys.

“Why aren’t there stairs?” Jace observed.

“Ha, yeah. Stadium seating is still kind of just starting. But it’s not a problem when there aren’t many people in front of you. So where do you want to sit?”

Jace quickly pointed to the second most back row, away from the other patrons.

“Ugh. The floor’s all sticky…” he moaned as they went to the center.

“Of course it is. Movie theaters haven’t hired people to clean the places yet.”

“Is that really true?”

Wes shrugged. “I dunno. Always seemed like it to me when I came here.”

Once they were both seated Jace asked, “Why are we seeing this again?”

“Okay. A good, bad movie is a rare gem. One, maybe two come out a year. It’s an art to get everything just right, and when someone tries to make a bad one, it usually doesn’t work. There has to be actual passion involved, genuine effort. That’s how you get Birdemic, or Troll 2, or The Room. You want this mix of you both laughing at it and you laughing with the creators and actors. It’s hard to describe. If you find something that humors you and your drunken friends and has you quoting lines, then you win.”

“But I don’t even like it when people talk during a movie.”

“It depends on the setting and intention. There’s nothing better than getting with buddies to crack jokes about some year’s version of, uh, Miami Connection or whatever.”

“Wesley, I haven’t heard of any of these movies.”

“Didn’t expect you would. We need to watch some Mystery Science when we get home. Heck, they’re still making new episodes right now. Trust me on this—when you realize it’s okay to laugh at someone’s hard work, a new world opens up. You learn not to take everything quite so seriously. And you could really use some lessons in that.”

Jace sunk into his seat and said tiredly, “How bad is this going to be, anyway?”

“Oh, it’s probably not all that terrible. I’m sure kids who liked the show loved it, and it does what it sets out to do. It’s probably not even close to some of the whoppers I know of. The point is, try to enjoy it… in a different way. Don’t try to be so invested.”

He still didn’t quite get it, but he relented and decided to give his uncle’s wacky idea of fun a chance as the light dimmed and the previews began rolling.

Jace noticed something right away as a trailer for Clueless began playing and asked, “The actual movie will look better than this, right? Like, brighter?”

“Everything is still projected on film. This is just the way it looks. And you’ll also see little ovals up in the corner. That’s a signal to the guy in the booth to change reels.”

“What? That’s how old projectors worked? Man… That’s primitive.”

“Hey, it used to be dangerous, too. Celluloid was once really flammable.”

Remembering the California teenagers from earlier, Jace grumbled as the first trailer ended, “Pfft. Like I’d want to watch a movie about high school girls…”

“Hey, don’t dis Clueless. It’s a classic. And no, I don’t say that about everything.”

After previews for Free Willy 2 and Toy Story played, the final one, for the sequel to last year’s Ace Ventura came up. Halfway through it, Jace had another question.

“You don’t see many trailers anymore with someone talking over it, huh?”

“It’s called a voice-over. They used to have them all the time.”

“I like this guy’s deep voice.”

“Everyone did! That’s why he got so much work. Uh, what was his name again? Fontaine… Uh… D-Don LaFontaine, yeah. He was awesome. Hey, we should go on some Hollywood studio tour sometime. You like movies, right?”

Tired of making plans for the time being, Jace only shrugged.

As the movie’s opening 20^th Century Fox logo appeared, one of the boys in the theater shouted out a “yay!” and startled his mother. Jace settled deep into his seat, still embarrassed that he was seeing such a film. But his uncle went into his “blissful movie-watching mode,” in which he simply leaned on his elbow and formed a little smile.

After the first scene with teens skydiving out of a plane to synth-rock music set the atmosphere, Jace’s impatience with the movie turned into indifference, and then acceptance of the ridiculous nature of its story, as Wes snickered and sometimes laughed at what transpired on the screen. Steadily, Jace loosened his grip on his armrests, relaxed, and began to get a better idea of just what his uncle meant when it came to enjoying a movie by watching it with different expectations, and from another angle of sorts.

With all of the rubber costume monsters, insanely single-minded super villains, snarky dialogue often full of exposition, transformation sequences, and the giant robot battle at the end, by the time the credits were rolling, he realized that he had just watched what was in essence, a Japanese anime in live action form.

It took over an hour of running time, but at one point, something finally snapped in Jace’s mind, and his inner voice told him that, “hey, it’s okay to watch this.” For the first time, perhaps since the end of school, he felt his stress levels drop, and he let go of his inhibitions and began to share laughs with his uncle, albeit small ones.

The two got several looks from the few others in the audience, and at one point another one of the children quietly asked his dad why they were laughing so much, and if he could tell them be quiet. Fortunately, the father seemed disinterested in anything going on in the theater and wasn’t ready to have a confrontation over his kid’s heroes.

“I can’t believe you used to see every new movie like that!” Jace said as they left the theater. “Stereo sound? Dark screen, no stadium seating, no post-credits scenes?”

“We had what we got. Still beat the crap out of a tiny four-by-three TV.”

“And the special effects were, uh, really cheap. It was like watching the show.”

“Well. When you’re not looking at millions of ultra-sharp bright pixels, you don’t really need them to look completely realistic. But anything big budget will still impress. We’ll see Apollo 13 next. You’ll see what I mean. And I’m glad you started enjoying it.”

“I dunno if ‘enjoying’ is the right word, but I guess I’m starting to see what you mean, about watching stuff just because you can. Or however you put it.”

“Maybe it’s something you have to condition yourself into. I just know that I kind of always had the ability to find entertainment in most anything, in some way.”

Wes went up to the only piece of entertainment for those waiting to see their movie, as there were no arcade cabinets that were typical for theaters. He looked at the six toy capsule vending machines, filled with junk no kid really needed in Jace’s eyes.

He watched his uncle take out a quarter from his pocket and hover it over the sticker machine, which had Power Rangers selections, but then choose the one with the little rubber finger puppets with googly eyes. He then handed the capsule to Jace.

“Something to remember your first day in ‘95.”

• •

Tiredly eyeing the funny-looking monster with flailing arms on his finger while relaxing in bed, under the covers as the air conditioner chilled the room, Jace processed the day’s events. It still felt just as crazy as it had when it began. The previous morning, he was in his room, in a house that hadn’t been built yet, playing a video game online.

The next thing he knew, he had leapt through time, got shot at, suffered strange temporal anomalies, and witnessed an intense water gun fight. Three versus three, free of lag, trash talk, and whining players complaining through their microphones.

With the nightly local news for July 18^th on the TV, Wes left the shower looking sharp. Wearing boxers and his favorite extra-large gray night shirt—the only clothing he had brought from the future, as its text celebrated Royal U.’s graduating 2007 class—he finished drying his hair with a hotel towel and took a seat on the side of his bed.

“You all worn out after your big day?” he asked Jace.

“I keep thinking I’ll wake up tomorrow, and this will all be a long, weird dream.”

“You’re right. You’re not even in my apartment. I just broke into your room and have been whispering 90s fun facts in your ear while you were sleeping this whole time.”

“So… then you also made up this part where a crazy guy tried to shoot me.”

“Hey, what’s wrong with staring death in the face a few times in a good dream?”

“Uncle Wes…” Jace turned in his bed to face him as the lottery numbers were read off. “What are we going to do until we go to the amusement park on Saturday?”

“I have ideas. We could always see another movie, like, every night. Oh, but not on Saturday night itself—that’s when we do SNICK. Heard of the big orange couch?”

“You told me a hundred times about Saturday night Nickelodeon…”

“Yeah, I probably have. That was what the rest of the week led up to for me.”

“You can talk about anything from this decade. Are you a librarian or something?”

Wes laughed. “I guess I am sort of a record keeper. I have a good memory and hold onto time as much as I can. And you’re pretty observant and smart yourself. Hey. Did you give any thought to that talk we had? Did I even make any sense? I know I wouldn’t make a great dad, but I wasn’t joking around when I was telling you all that.”

Jace checked his iPhone, charging on the nightstand near him, and saw that it was ready to go for another day. He unplugged it, reached down and got his ear pods out of his backpack, stuck them in, and to remember where he came from, played some of the music that he and his contemporaries ate up every time a new album went live.

“Hey, I gotta know if what I said was worthless or not. Jace? Best nephew ever?”

He rolled his eyes and continued to ignore his uncle. For some reason, admitting he was right about anything was always a great challenge for him. But Wes could easily find something to pull out and up his effort to win the game. So Jace then had to watch as he dropped to the floor between the beds on his knees, where he began to beg.

“Jace, I—I gotta know. I wanted to keep this a surprise… but I found a nice lady in the present and never told anyone about her and now we’re having a kid in a month, and if I can’t be a good father, then my life will have been a complete waste of time. So please, I need you to tell me right now that I’m at least a half-decent uncle to you!”

“What is your problem?” Jace exclaimed. “You’re still that kid we saw in Target.”

“Ah… I see how it is. I’ll just have to give Little Jimmy up for adoption…”

“Maybe you had a point, okay? But I’m still upset about how fifth grade went…”

“That’s all I wanted to hear!” Wes dropped the act and got to his feet. “And if you got some kind of second chance to do it over right, would you take it?”

“No! I never want to go through that again. I’ll try to do what you told me, but I’m going to sleep first. So… if you’re staying up crazy-late, can you be quiet about it?”

Wes crossed his arms. “Ya know, you’re assertive around me. That’s cool. I like a challenge. And you should use that talent to keep yourself from being pushed around.”

“No more advice for today,” Jace said, flipped over in bed, turned up the volume on his music, and closed his eyes. “Good night… Uncle Wesley.”

• •

Jace woke up to the sound of knocking at his front door. He called out to his mom to answer it. There was no response, so he got out of bed and stumbled over the toys littering his floor. He groggily tried to recall yesterday, which he only remembered as some big adventure with his crazy uncle. But now he was nice and safe again at home.

The house was empty, although a bowl of cereal was waiting on the table. He ignored it and went to the door, and in his early morning state, forgot to look through its window. After he swung it open, he saw his former friends, smiling mischievously.

Before he could ask them what they wanted, Jamie, Austin, and Chad all leapt forward and tackled him, pinning him to the wooden floor as they laughed at him. Jace struggled, but it was no use. Their betrayals gave them the unholy power to immobilize him, and he assumed that they would soon brandish knives and start taking turns.

Instead, Jared, in all of his Angels jersey and blue jeans glory, appeared from behind them as their master. He gave his new victim the largest toothy grin yet, pulled out his giant water gun from behind his back, and took aim. In his final moments, Jace couldn’t help but notice that his water tank was full of molten, glowing lava.

He startled himself awake from another stress-induced morning dream, his eyes shooting open and focusing on his finger puppet. It had been placed upright directly in front of his face, where it stared back at him with its cartoony eyes.

He sat up in bed and looked at the clock to see that it was 7:09 A.M., which were school day numbers that should have nothing to do with weekends or the summer. He also noticed that his uncle was gone, leaving behind a messy bed.

After Jace fell back onto his pillow and tried to get back to sleep for several minutes, Wes unlocked the room’s door and came in, carrying a large box from Dunkin’ Donuts. Jace eyed him, and after he took a sip of his coffee, he realized he was awake.

“Oh, hey, you’re up! That’s a surprise. Look, I brought breakfast for the week!”

“Don’t you ever sleep?” Jace moaned. “What were you doing all night, anyway?”

“Never mind that. And I can operate on five hours, remember?” He walked over and tipped the donut box, letting the TV Guide on top slide off onto Jace’s stomach.

He picked it up and saw the cover, which had a man in alien makeup on it to promote a ‘Stellar Sci-fi Summer’, and asked, “What’s this for?”

“That… is your next big adventure, young Master Baker.”