New idea ..... sci-fi story

"Benson Jacobe!", the speaker called out over the crowd. The name echoed through the speakers. I stood and walked towards the man-made stage to accept my diploma. I could hear the random and robotic applause as I climbed the steps and made my way front and center.
"Congratulations" , the university president said with a smile and a hand shake.
"Thank you", I replied as we concluded the conversation,and before the next name was called out, "Elizabeth Jennings!"

I use to think I knew exactly what I wanted...my life all planned out like the table of contents at the beginning of a book. Atleast the life my parents planned for me. Career, marriage, and family...the ideal picture. Everyone expected I would follow in one of my parents footsteps...a scientist or maybe a college proffessor. And for two brief months... that was the plan.How disappointed everyone must have been to learn I decided to follow in the footsteps of my aunt. I was going to college to be a... To study...? To become a...? To paint! But all those ideal plans were subject to change. It was time I took control. My life was out there somewhere,and I had to find it. Step one in becoming...ME.

So,here I stood,two weeks into April,and I was a college graduate. I looked out onto the crowd of guests,hoping maybe,to see atleast one of my parents. Was I upset when I saw neither? Nope! Was I surprised? Not really!
I returned to my seat and waited. After the last name was called and Crystal Zmed received her diploma; the entire class stood. As the president spoke and then the validictorian gave her long drawn out speech on staying friends forever... the class prepared. When the president of the university spoke the final sentence," I give you the graduating class of 2009!" Three hundred and forty nine caps blasted into the air like confetti, followed by yells and screams. As the colored squares see-sawed down, the hugs and tears appeared.

Here I stood on the campus grounds on Poplar Avenue. I just graduated from the Memphis College of Art with a B.A. degree. A degree my parents were not fond of...apparent by their lack of support and attendance. A degree that was nothing more than a useless piece of paper given to 'bohemiens',as my father referred when he heard of my decision to study art. Not worth the paper it was printed on. Now,after 4 years and eighty thousand dollars, I guess I was that 'bohemien'. To be honest,going against the grain was one of the reasons I choose art school, another was the obvious reason ... I was good! A natural with a paint brush. Yet another reason for choosing art... Bennett Carchia. Proffessor Carchia not only was my freshman advisor when I switched gears and schools;he was an art advocate,mentor,and one of the most talented artist I had met. He could be great,and anyone could see that. His works of art were full of passion,both honest and raw.

My father, a successful and published biologist, missed most of my childhood while he travelled the globe searching for 'the cure'. My mother, a stay-at-home mom and college graduate, started her teaching career the week after I turned five. Her choice to further her education earned her a Ph.D. in Mathematics and a faculity position at the University of Tennessee. Go VOLS! I was quickly replaced in her life by fractions,decimals,and percents.She never looked back,and neither did I.
It also left me alone most of the time after school. No brothers or sisters to occupy my time.Time and fun I found in the company of my aunt,an artist. With her guidance; I used my time drawing and painting. Aunt Connie was that 'bohemien' artist my father always talked about.He never approved of her simple lifestyle,but never objected when it come to help raising his son. It was a huge blow for me when Connie passed away suddenly during my first semester in Memphis. That blow was the determination I needed. I was going to be a successful artist...for her.

So,that is why on this cloudy April afternoon; I was in no hurry to get home. Home being Knoxville Tennessee,and not a home but a house...an oversized,over-priced shelter to show off to the elite in town. That's why when I saw the flashing lights and orange detour signs ahead...I welcomed the freedom to make my own decisions,and the fact I would not have to feel any disappointed eyes staring at me. Not that anyone would be waiting with open arms when I pulled into the long circle driveway. I had tried to call twice,and both times I got the animated message of their answering machine.

I was still hours from Knox county when I took the off ramp at exit 280 and drove past the truckstop. At the next four-way stop I followed the signs,driving straight through.But at the next four-way stop I was to turn right,headed east. It was this moment of my life that I took charge for a second time and again changed my destiny. I honestly had nothing to loose. Everything I owned was in the back of my car. Sort of funny actually. After four years of college all I had to show for it was my diploma,some clothes, twelve paintings,and four boxes of art supplies.

It was really a no brainer. At this moment,the inner demons arguing in my head and my thoughts racing at top speed,...I turned left. Something told me to was my only reasoning. I listened to the blinking signal,images from my past flooded my thoughts. Images of graduation day,and the fact my parents were not there. Images of proffessor Carchia watching from the faculity section. I could almost single out his hands clapping together with excitment and a sense of pride.For whatever reasons; I was the one senior just standing there afterwards. No one come to congratulate me...no one with well wishes.

I returned to the one room that had become my refuge for the past four years,proffessor Carchia class room. I began gathering my stuff...paints,brushes,books.Everything that would remind me of my safe haven.I stacked my blank canvas' in the back of my car on top the boxes of supplies. My twelve senior exhibit paintings were carefully placed next. That was it...the car was loaded. There was nothing keeping me here. Nothing but memories and the one person that believed in me.
The road was smooth,but full of twists and curves. As I drove past many houses of different shapes and colors; I noticed I was driving on top of a mountain. I was lost in the beauty of the country here. The mountains seem to go on forever. Valleys on both sides,full of trees and fields....everything budding out in different shades of green. Spring had definately sprung! Beautiful country. Rays of sunlight breaking through the clouds...casting shadows.
Then I suddenly began to laugh. All of a sudden ... 'New World Man' by Rush came across the radio waves. Here I was making my own decisions. I was a new world man,and soon to be a year older. My birthday was in three days. Finally; I will be twenty-one.
When I took the next curve, I immediately slowed my '78 Mustang Cobra down when I saw the sign staked on the road side:
ART GALLERY
>>>>>>>>>>>>
I turned off the main highway and started my decline north on Highway 96. Just as I made the first curve; I heard a box of paint brushes spill in the back seat. I tried to look,but could tell my the next curve that I should probably pay attention to the road. The brushes were going nowhere,and I could easily find myself at the bottom of the bluff. When the road begin to straighten out I was able to access the damage in the backseat. That is when I noticed the envelope. I reached for it and wondered a moment until the scenery caught my attention.
Finally near the bottom,my surroundings began to open up. More rays of light broke through the clouds. A few more miles and I saw a large body of water on my right. A few more turns and I saw signs of civilization. Main street USA... a church and general store to my right,and on my left,the art gallery.
The building was old.... years of neglect and decay,but signs of repair and re-birth. I pulled off the road in front of the store and shut off the engine. After the third try; I managed to get the car door open. Stretching my legs and then my arms; I noticed the name...
BOHEMIEN ART GALLERY
"How ironic", I chuckled. There was something about this place. Something that I could not put my finger on yet.
This was the place,the place I belonged. I stopped daydreaming long enough to look around at my surroundings though. There was something about this place...something peaceful and welcoming,but what exactly I did not know.
"Where am I ?" I questioned out loud as I took everything in. The town was empty...not a soul around. Even the road was empty...not a single car.I looked at my watch, 7:30pm. The final rays of sunlight begin to sink behind the hills. They cast an orange hue on the gray and blue sky. A million questions raced through my brain. Top of the list...was this one of those towns that shut down at dusk? Stepford,maybe?

"Where is everyone?" I whispered as I continued to look around.
"He's closed", a voice called out from across the street. Startling me,I turned quickly. Standing on the porch of the general store was a teenage boy.
"He?", I questioned looking both ways before crossing the street.
"The guy that owns that place", he answered as he pointed out across the lake. I looked over in the direction his hand went and then back towards the old building. That was when I noticed the shadow behind the store. It looked familiar in a distorted way. I thanked the teen and could only focus on the mysterious shadow.
"Ohh,by the way! Where am I?" I blurted out looking back at the general store.
"Cordell", the kid answered. "Welcome!"
I could tell by the tone of his voice he was not very fond of his hometown. In all honesty;it did not look like a place a teenager of today would be proud to call home. Todays teen is all about the newest electronic. I couldn't even get a cell phone signal here...let alone a wireless connection.
"What's there to do here?" I asked,trying not to be rude.
"Watch the grass", he answered.
"Sounds like fun", I chuckled. He raised his eyebrows. He obviously was not amused with my attempt at humor.
"You one of them?" The teenager curiously asked next.
"Them?" I answered with a question. The kid pointed out across the lake again. This time though I tried to focus better as I looked out over the water. I looked past the windmill this time and then I saw them. A row of buildings,maybe four of them, all painted bright primary colors.

I shrugged my shoulders as a reply, "I don't know them."
"Hmmmmmmmmm. You look just like him", the teen remarked.
"I must have one of those faces", I answered,not really knowing how to respond. The strange things about all this was it wasn't the first time someone had mentioned that.
The last time was at the beginning of my senior year and two guys asked if I was Proffessor Carchia's brother. I believe for a minute they thought I was lying.They seemed puzzled when I told them no,and continued to stare at me for weeks after.

The only similarities I had noticed between me and the proffessor was our dark hair and dark eyes. Other than that....I saw nothing that could justify a kinship. I never considered myself a 'good-looking guy'. I was average. Not the jock type...to much belly for that. I still remember my aunt referring to me as 'husky' when talking about my girth. I will be the first to admit I need to loose a few pounds.Something that always is in the back of my head. Maybe now I will do something about it.

"Hey! You ok?" I heard the teen ask as I snapped back to reality.
"Yep",I answered. "Just thinking."
We made small talk back and forth for a while longer until the street lamps turned on as night fell on Cordell. I needed to see what caused that shadow. I needed to know what was there.

Shock and surprise was all over my face when I walked behind the art gallery and saw the statue. I couldn't help but stare for a moment. A million more questions began running through my mind.
What the hell is going on here? Who is this gallery owner that I looked like? What was drawing ME to this town? and Where was the McDonalds?
Suddenly I am starving. I knew at this moment,with no doubt though...I was home.