A Penny A Day (Feedback Welcomed)

The day commenced, spilling normalcy. A girl sat alone in her apartment in the inner city of Seattle. The walls were barren and the furniture was drab. Times were hard as was the lumpy, sage colored loveseat that she was curled up on. On any other morning, Adrianne would be hammering away on the next big story down at the TV station, but it was Saturday. She had moved to Seattle to pursue her dreams, but the only thing she had accomplished was sitting unaccompanied on the weekend.

Adrianne felt herself drifting off; it was tempting to doze the morning away. Her eyes became heavy and she felt the familiar sleep-warmth creep into her limbs. She could dream of her perfect man, of bathing in the sun, or? CRASH! A loud noise resonated from the bathroom, which caused Adrianne to leap up from the couch, eyes wide open.

?What the heck?? she uttered, her mind automatically attuned to all the horror movies she had seen. ?It could be Jason, or Freddy Krueger,? Adrianne thought. Rustling, along with low grunts, traveled from the bathroom and through the kitchen to her ears. Her heart raced. She crouched low, pulling strands of auburn, wavy hair out of her eyes and tucked them behind her ear. She paused, her feet cold against the linoleum. Muttering continued to reverberate from the door, which stood slightly ajar.

She felt as if her heart was louder than a freight train as she groped for the butcher knife from the Pampered Chef gallery. Her fingers clasped around the handle; she extracted the blade with practiced care, avoiding the metal to metal sound like that of a sword being unsheathed. Once the knife was free, she held it deftly in her right hand, and continued tip-toeing towards the strange utterances which were now unmistakably male.

She pushed open the door with her foot, holding the knife in front of her. On her floor, in an unappealing mess was a man, half tangled in the paisley shower curtain. His bearded face took on a look of surprise as his eyes met the metal in her hand. He quickly freed himself of his curtain bondages with the help of added adrenaline from the eminent threat standing before him. ?What is this?? Adrianne finally managed to say. She glanced at the window, and her jaw dropped a few more inches. Instead of the blinds being askew or the window drapes being ruffled as if the window had been penetrated by this mysterious man, everything, to her visage, seemed serene. Her eyes snapped back to the man, sitting awkwardly on the floor. ?How did you get in here?? she demanded, her pale skin flushing pink with anger, or perhaps, fear.

?Well, if a madam such as yourself would care to help a gentleman from the floor, it would be my pleasure to explain my presence and relieve your perturbed expression,? he spoke in what resembled a southern accent.

Shocked by the man?s authoritative voice and such proper diction, Adrianne lowered her weapon and offered a shaky hand to the stranger on her own bathroom floor. For the first time, as his hand met hers, she noticed the peculiar brass attachments on his arms. They resembled gloves, but the screws and metallic sheen begged differently. She shuddered inwardly when she noticed the bars attached to the gloves. An orb with purple colored liquid was perched upon the bar. The swirling substance both bothered and entranced her.

The curious man pulled against her arm, heaving himself up. His bulky, metallic-covered hands made her shudder. He bent back towards the ground, retrieving a black top hat off of the floor. He placed it on top of his receding brown hair. Adrianne took a step back, examining the older man from head to toe. Placed on the front of his top hat were a pair of peculiar goggles and several different machine gears. Underneath the brim of the hat, were deep gray eyes and a moderately lined face covered in a scruffy beard. He was dressed in a rather odd suit. It was trimmed with wire and where normally a button would reside, small metal bolts made their home. On his arms and hands were the bronze gloves, but attached to the bars that were holding the purple, spherical anomalies were tubes that snaked around to an odd contraption slung over his back. A gauge-like artifice stemmed from somewhere behind him. His belt buckle was made of a huge gear, and from his waist down his attire was mundane. Adrianne finished her appraisal, clocking the man?s height in at around six feet and five inches. He held himself quite prestigiously for someone who had just broken into a stranger?s apartment.
?Well,? said the odd man, ?If you are finished with assessing me, may I be offered a seat??

?Erm,? said Adrianne, ?Sure, it?s through the kitchen.? She stepped to the side to allow the man to pass in front of her. He walked with a certain lankiness towards the living room. She thought shortly of putting the knife back but decided to keep it with her. She scurried to the living room as the stranger sat down on the couch, his eyes wandering around the room.

?What are you looking at?? Adrianne snapped, upset that he was intruding yet had the audacity to judge.
The man blinked and replied, "What year is this?"

"Are you mad?" It's 2011!" Adrianne spoke with disbelief.

"Why in lieu of a more auspicious occasion, I can not believe that you do not recognize me," the man spoke as he detached the tubes from his gloves. He removed the monstrous machine from his back and positioned it on the floor, leaving only the metallic gloves still on his body.

"I don't know who you are." Adrianne spat coldly.

"Well then, just call me Mister Al." he nodded to her, with a slight, condescending smile.

Adrianne picked at her gray sweatpants in an uncomfortable manner. "Okay, Mister Al, why are you here?"

"You'll probably be most pleased to know that I have not the slightest idea, I was aiming for precisely 10 years further."

"Pleased?"

"Well, yes, of course." Mister Al replied, matter-of-factly.

Adrianne paced in front of the couch with a finger twirled tightly in her hair. "Dude, in this day and age strangers don't just barge into your house and expect hospitality. Ever."

"Well," Mister Al clasped his huge hands together. "In my day, I could go almost anywhere in the North and find a nice warm house to rest my head in."

"Look man," Adrianne turned towards him, ?I don't know who you think you are, or why you're here, but I would appreciate if you would quit the tomfoolery, and tell me your business or I may be forced to call the police."

Mister Al, with perfect posture, continued to stare at Adrianne as if she were one crayon short of a full box.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, don't look at me like that," Adrianne begged.

"Do you perhaps own some common tools and perhaps some juice? Particularly grape juice?" Mister Al spoke clearly and slowly.

Adrianne had no idea where this crazy man came from, but from her observances he was more eccentric than dangerous. Maybe if she got what he desired, he would be on his way? "I'll have to run to the store to get some grape juice, but the tools are in the kitchen drawer. Help yourself." She was wary of leaving a strange man in her house by himself, but if he had felt the fervor to harm her, he could have done so already. Mister Al stood, and busied himself with finding the tools while Adrianne stood awkwardly in her own living room. She heard a resonance of success float from the kitchen, and the gangly man sauntered back into the room. He placed the tools on the floor between the couch and Adrianne.

?Are you going to retrieve the grape juice, Miss???

?Todd,? Adrianne spoke, snapping out of her reverie. ?Yes, I?m leaving now.?

?Miss Todd?? he replied, his eyes widened as if the name were ghastly. ?Uh,? He stuttered. ?I thank you ma?am. I?ll be out of your hair shortly.?

With a raised eyebrow, Adrianne grabbed her wallet, her keys, and her coat from the shelf beside the front door. If the man happened to be a thief, there was nothing of value for him to steal in the frugal apartment. She was impervious to the reason why she was listening to this man. He was obviously insane with his Inspector Gadget appearance, and he wasn?t handsome, but his voice compelled her to listen and do as he said. Adrianne closed the door behind her and began the short walk to the convenience store.

When she returned with grape juice in tow, she found Mister Al sitting on the floor with his backpack contraption in front of him. It was making small noises like an engine idling. Smoke was pouring out of one pipe-like orifice, and another tube seemed to be drawing the smoke back out of the air and into the machine.

?How long did it take you to build whatever that thing is?? Adrianna asked, joining him and the grape juice on the floor.

?Ah,? Mister Al said. ?Not long, for I was determined. Always bear in mind that your own resolution to succeed is more important than any other one thing.?

?Hmm, seems like you have everything figured out.? Adrianne touched the shoulder strap on the backpack.

?Far from it. I have just had experience in the world. I have seen war, I?ve seen slavery, and I have seen death. Some people are less fortunate than us.? He said, still tinkering with the machine.

?Poor people take advantage of us,? Adrianne disagreed. ?They try to make us feel bad for something that we have no control over.?

Mister Al replied quietly, ?We are all people. Equal. We all have control. In God we trust.?

Adrianne sat there for a few moments, taking in the events of the past hour. She drifted in her thoughts, watching him tune the machine with various wrenches and screw drivers. She contemplated her beliefs; Gods or crazy men in funny hats were not among them.

A knock came at the door. Adrianne jumped. She never received visitors, so the fact that she had two disturbances within the same day surprised her. Mister Al had cracked open the grape juice and taken a swig. He then put the opening of the bottle to the purple orbs connected to the machine and topped them off.

?Are you going to get that?? He gestured at the door.

?Yeah,? she said, heaving herself from the floor. She opened the door to see a UPS delivery man standing on the porch. She stepped out and closed the door behind her, shivering in the frigid air.

The man handed her a clipboard, ?Sign please, ma?am.?

?Yes sir.? She took the clipboard, looking down at the paper. ?Sent from John W. Booth.? It read. She signed the paper, ?It must be one of those raffles I bought at work? Maybe I finally won?? she thought.

A loud boom sounded from her apartment. She gasped and looked up at the UPS man who wore a perplexed face. Then, the world became white and, for a split second, there was nothing. The world was a canvas waiting to be painted. A shockwave pierced the air, and everything went dark.

Eyelids fluttered as Adrianne awoke. She felt rough concrete against her cheek; she groaned. Opening her eyes, she found herself face to face with a rather handsome man. She bolted upright, leery of what she might have gotten herself into. To her dismay, she was sprawled out on her own porch. Her head ached. The man, who was dressed in a UPS uniform, sat up painstakingly. He rubbed his head, ?I can?t remember anything, but whatever I did to end up laying next to you, I must be one suave guy.?

Adrianne smiled, ?Well, sir. Neither can I, but I guess if we made it this far, I might as well invite you in.?

They helped each other off of the ground and entered her apartment, leaving a discarded package on the ground. Upon entering, Adrianne stared, dumbfounded, at a dark soot spot in the middle of her living room. She waved her new friend towards the kitchen absentmindedly. ?There?s wine in the fridge,? she said.

Adrianne frowned, racking her mind as to why her carpet was scorched. She moved closer to examine the mark. Lying in the middle of the burn was a shiny, copper penny. Adrianne?s head pounded as flashes of machine gears danced in her brain. Abe Lincoln smiled up at her. The penny read, ?In God We Trust, A.L.?

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