Jace thought a moment. “Hey, all of this talk about arcades and glitches… I saw an episode of this one game show, Nick Arcade, where kids competed by playing arcade games.”

“Yeah, I know the one. I think it only lasted a single season. Maybe two.”

“Most of the show is okay, you know, when the kids go up and play these games and see who gets a high score. The trivia part is boring, though. But then at the end, the winning kid gets to compete inside an arcade game? And I dunno if it was just a bad episode or what, but that didn’t work at all. Like, the poor teenager just looked confused and kept waving his arms about and couldn’t make it past the first level.”

Wes chuckled. “I always thought that would be freakin’ awesome to do. I even signed up for the show. When I was older and watched reruns, I realized how much it didn’t work. It was too ambitious. I imagine the contestants against a backdrop, seeing themselves on a screen, desperate to make their arms and legs interact with objects.”

“Now if you want to go inside a game, you can just put on a VR visor.”

“Yeah… Yeah, I guess so. Shows and games from this decade often tried to innovate with something new and outrageous, but we didn’t really have the hardware to back it up. Usually the ‘cutting edge’ tech or graphics just ended up looking goofy.”

Jace looked back at the nearby venue he had just fled and added, “Why are there still a few arcades around in 2020, anyway? Everyone already either has a game console or just plays something for free on their phone. Aren’t they actually making more?”

“It’s a wonder to me, too, but I guess they’re coming back for social outings. It’s nice that they’re still around for us, long after their prime in the 80s. Too bad,” he gazed over at the busy arcade with another nostalgic smile, “that this one closes in eight years.”

“You know what I realized I really hate?” Jace kept up a discussion. “Seeing the same commercials over, and over, and over, and remembering how each one goes, and that horrible feeling you get when one you hate starts playing again.”

“I told you that you could’ve muted them after seeing them once. Heck, you didn’t have to listen to any of them. That was just my suggestion.”

“I guess. But I never did that for… some reason. Also, I’m not even used to seeing commercials that much because I don’t watch a lot of TV. I stream most of the shows I watch. But, geez, how did you put up with all that crap?”

Wes shrugged. “Just did.”

“Why are they all in a competition to see who can be the loudest? What is the obsession with flipping around girls’ dolls so you see the hair whip around, and then the camera zooms in on the face? Why does the kid always shout ‘I win!’ when they, you know, win at some dumb game like Don’t Wake Daddy? Why are there so many boys trying to look in their sisters’ electronic diaries and get upset when it has a password? And don’t even get me started on those local commercials with potato quality video!”

“Potato quality, heh…” Wes snickered. “Classic…”

“And I thought Skechers commercials in our time were annoying. Sheesh…”

“Shoes!” Wes came to a sudden realization and smacked the table. “You need a good pair of shoes. Style and comfy feet—those will give you confidence.”

“I thought the shoes I have now are fine? Why didn’t we get a pair at Target?”

“Because I didn’t think you needed any back then. But now I’m starting to get anxious to correct you. Also, the mall has a better selection anyway.”

“Correct me? What am I, broken?”

“Let’s just focus on completing your contemporary fashion set with the last piece of lingering future-wear. I think a nice pair of gray high tops would look good on you.”

“Do I really need some expensive shoes if I’m only gonna wear them for a day?”

“They’re a status symbol! Uh, bring them with you, show them off in the present! Also, I’m not showering you with gifts thoughtlessly. I always give them a lot of thought.”

Next stop: Foot Locker. Jace’s mode of transport: dragged, as was customary.

Quite a few families had nothing better to do on a rainy Friday than to go shoe shopping, so the store was full of parents and their kids, some bored, others enjoying trying on often colorful footwear. The smell of rubber and leather permeated the air, and unlike most stores filled with children, those that sold shoes always seemed to be very quiet by comparison. Maybe there was an unspoken reverence among patrons in the ritual of baring feet and deciding what to walk around in for the next year or so.

“Go find a pair,” Wes said at the entrance. “Remember to try them on. Duh. I’ll just be looking around. I always wanted a nice pair of boots when I was a kid…”

Once Wes set off, Jace gave the store a quick look to find an aisle with kid shoes. As much as he disliked clothes shopping, he felt neutral about buying shoes. There was at least something nice about walking out of a store in a fresh pair with new padding.

After passing by some teen boys checking out the most expensive pair in the store and complaining that they couldn’t afford them, Jace took a spot on one of the stools with an angled attached mirror and scooted around to look at the inventory.

Following a full rotation, he noticed that a girl about his age had walked into the aisle from the back of the store. He turned as to not appear to be staring but kept an eye on her in his peripheral. She shuffled around some listlessly, without the least bit of excitement grabbed a box of very plain sneakers, had a seat on the aisle’s other stool about twelve feet away, and took out the shoes and clopped their soles together.

It was hard to get a good look at her face, as a portion of her long, light brown and unkempt hair covered the side closest to Jace. She had to make minor adjustments every few seconds to keep the adult-sized headphones on her ears. The wire led down to a CD player in the pocket of her also oversized, drab olive-green button shirt, its sleeves covering her hands. Her music was just loud enough to be audible.

After several seconds, Jace realized how bored she must’ve been, as she seemed to have little interest in actually trying on the shoes. He went back to looking for his own pair. There was a nice, not-too-big set of gray and black ones that got his attention, so he yanked them out and gave their insides a hearty sniff for that new shoe smell.

Once he got his nose out of the box, he saw her looking at him indifferently. Her right eye was free from the hair, and her front few teeth showed just a bit. Jace had to admit that she was actually kind of cute—in a brooding, sulky sort of way. She scratched at her jeans, pulled at her long undershirt, sniffled a little, and turned away again.

She began trying on her shoes just as Jace did, eliciting further quick glances back and forth with one another. Every time he got a glimpse of her face, he felt a sense of familiarity, like he vaguely remembered seeing her somewhere before. Maybe a former classmate of his, one of those kids that sat in the back and never talked to anyone? Her need for a big, baggy, and ratty old security shirt also seemed awfully similar to his own.

After Jace got the shoes on, his old pair now in the box, he stood and took a few steps. They were nice, comfortable, and roomy, though he felt that the tongue was needlessly large. He tied them up tightly and walked back and forth in a small space.

Surprised that he actually liked them as much as he did and willing to accept another gift, he smiled a little and turned around. The smile disappeared as soon as he noticed the girl looking up at him, who then looked down at her own pair of simple, cheap black shoes. He didn’t know if she was just depressed about not being able to get something nicer, or if she had picked them herself and was always like that regardless.

She mumbled something, stood, looked at herself in the nearby full-sized mirror, and without taking a single test step, sat back down and began taking them off.

“Shoes like that are overpriced…” she stated matter-of-factly, perhaps in her own way of justifying her choice. “Kids only get them to try and make friends…”

“Uh… Well, actually… they’re…” Jace wasn’t sure how to respond.

Her mother rounded the corner before things got too awkward. She had a wide grin, a pearl necklace, a fancy watch, and a black pantsuit. She looked like a business lady, a real go-getter—especially of shoes; she had already acquired three boxes.

“There you are, hon,” she said to her daughter. “Did you find a good pair?”

“Sure,” the girl replied and held up the box so her mother could see.

“Tch, you always get the same kind. Lucy, you gotta be a little adventurous.”

Jace froze in place, afraid of further interaction, as one of his grandparents—who unlike Wes’ mother he had rarely ever met—took away the kid version of his own mom.

Once she was at a safe distance, he watched as she waited in the checkout line, cradling her new shoes. Her mom then made her hold all four boxes for a solid minute as she dug around in her purse. They wobbled in her arms as she tried to balance them.

“Hey,” Wes said from behind, sending a shock down his back. “Find anything?”

“I, uh…” Jace stammered as his nerves calmed a little. “Y-yeah…”

“Lemme see.” He looked down at the box of shoes. “Not bad. They fit okay?” Wes then looked directly ahead and suddenly tightened his grip. “Whoa whoa whoa! Jace! Holy crap!” He pointed ahead. “Dude, do you know who that little lady over there is?”

“It’s my mom… I already know. She sat right across from me…”

“You didn’t talk to her, right? Oh, man, tell me you didn’t!”

“No! I mean, I didn’t know it was her, but we didn’t really talk or anything.”

“Okay,” Wes breathed. “Good. If we change anything that involves her, your very existence might be in trouble. Let’s wait until she leaves to buy your new kicks.”

“I thought she looked familiar, but… I wasn’t expecting her to be so…”

“Dreary? Hair over her eyes, bad posture, headphones drowning out a world she’s already fed up with… She’s kinda like you, huh? And proof that anyone can improve.”

“Don’t you think we should be more careful? Now we’ve run into both you and my mom. I thought you knew where both her and Wessy would be.”

“Hey, I’ve only been through this day twice. I still have a lot of gaps where I’m not sure where we’d be. Plus, I only ever saw Lucy every other weekend and sometimes at school. She lived a whole separate life from my own most of the time.”

“Oh, try to get them all in one bag, please,” Lucy’s mom asked the clerk. “We have enough garbage around the house already.”

The overworked employee solved the puzzle by bringing out the largest plastic bag available and stacking three of the boxes inside, and forcing in the one with Lucy’s shoes sideways, where it was crushed a little, causing a shoe to pop out some. The guy behind the register asked again if she was sure she wanted just a single bag, but she insisted. After paying, the two left the store, and Wes paid for Jace’s sixty-buck pair.

They seemed to be heading for the same exit, so Lucy’s brother and son kept their distance as they followed from behind, trying to remain casual and inconspicuous.

As Lucy and her mother were leaving the mall and squeezed through the non-automatic glass door, Wes and Jace both watched one of the girl’s new shoes slip out from the box, slide off the bag, and land on the tiled floor. Neither of them noticed, and none of the other nearby mall-goers had seen what happened, either.

After hopes diminished that someone else would see the rogue sneaker, pick it up, and chase after the two, Wes ran up and grabbed it. Jace joined him at the door and saw Lucy and her mom get into their car as his uncle bit his lip.

“Guess she won’t be seeing that shoe again,” Jace commented, and looked up at antsy Wes. “You’re not thinking of going up and returning that, right? Right? Uncle Wes, you just said my existence is on the line! Mom will get more shoes in her life.”

“Poor Luce…” he sighed. “She always seemed so downtrodden at this age. I wouldn’t have even noticed if one day was worse than the last for her.”

“But this already happened. I’m sure she recovered and went on to do great things, like having me. Let’s just… put the shoe down and go back to the hotel.”

Wes looked at him, then at the shoe in his hands, and quickly stated most daringly, “Nope! We’re gonna get this back to her. Lucy’s not having a bad weekend on my watch. Don’t worry—I’ll just drop it on her porch. C’mon, kiddo.”

Clutching the quest object in one hand, he yanked Jace out into the parking lot, where the rare summer rain had stopped and puddles were evaporating in the afternoon heat. Jace didn’t get a chance to speak again until their car’s tires were screeching on the wet asphalt, and Wes was already firmly locked into his latest adventure.

“She probably doesn’t even like these stupid shoes,” Jace groaned and looked at the black sneaker in his lap, having become the one responsible for its safety.

“A shoe isn’t gonna make you disappear,” Wes promised. “And this’ll be easy!”