“Tea is a beverage full of contradictions, of possibilities. It’s a liquid made from solids, it can be served both hot and cold, it can both awaken and relax. If a portal through realities exists, is it really so surprising that it would be tea? Scoot said, a sly smile gracing his face as he struggled to cut his pancake. He surely believed he words to be profound.

Trent — his waiter — did not. Why do I always get the nut jobs? I swear if I didn’t have a million dollars of student loan debt, I’d rip this apron off and choke my supervisor with it. He flashed his best HR appropriate smile at Scoot and said, “that was an enlightening conversation. Thank You. Enjoy your meal!” He rushed away from the table, only for Scoot to snatch his arm.

“Don’t forget what I told ya now.”

Don’t roll your eyes, you can’t get fired. Again. “About the government being run by highly functioning llamas with transformative abilities, or the number four being a fake number planted by aliens?”

“Both. But especially don’t forget what I told ya about the tea.” Scoot reeled Trent’s arm in like he’d caught his first snapper after days of starvation. Then he whispered, “Think about it, Illuminati, triangle, right? Triangle starts with the letter ‘tea’. Not only is it a drink, it’s also a letter!”

“That’s a bit of a stretch.” His customer friendly tolerance was dwindling by the nano-second.

“Whats your name kid?”

Oh dear lord save me. “Trent.”

“By Grace! You’ve been blessed with the eye, kid! Your name is book ended with ‘teas’!”

Tip also starts with ‘T’ and I swear I better get a big one for dealing with this shit.

It took twenty minutes before Trent escaped the void of Scoot’s conversation. He shot the shit with his co-workers in the back during his break and waited over fifty tables throughout the night. The dining tables were a revolving door of new and returning customers, all eager to eat overpriced food and shove stale jokes down his throat. All except one. Scoot’s. At closing time, each table emptied, ready for cleaning. Except Scoot’s.

He sat there blissfully unaware of the sounds of sweeping and squirting cleaning products. Not a flinch at the stench of bleach, as Trent doused every uninhabited surface with it. Suddenly, he sprang up and hurried out of the restaurant. Fucking good. Before he departed, he turned and faced Trent’s direction. Fucking not good. “Don’t forget to read the tea leaves, boy. It’s a saying for a reason.”

Fortunately for Trent’s job security, Scoot left a split second before his patience did. He inspected the last uncleaned table in the restaurant; no tip.

The next morning, his troublesome little brother, Anton, roused him out of bed.

“Wake up! Wake up!” Anton assaulted his mattress and peace. “The leaves are falling. They look so cool. Come look!”

“Yeah, yeah, they fall every year. You live long enough, the excitement of falling leaves wears off. Actually, for life in general.”

“Hurry! I’ll wait for you outside. Let’s go build a leaf-man!” Anton bolted out of the room, delivering his best Usain impression.

A leaf-man? He might be the second dumbest person I’ve spoken to in the last 24 hours. Trent re-snuggled himself under his comforter and a revelation dawned on him. Falling leaves; in June? With measured caution, he left his warm bed and trailed his brother outside. When he opened the front door, he froze.

A blizzard of green leaves pelted the Earth. The sun’s light struggled to peek through, instead settling to light the ground a rich emerald. The concrete jungle he inhabited favored the palate of an actual jungle. All the grays and unnatural colors of the world converted to earthy tones.

Compact blades of light green leaves littered the surface. To his left, a tornado fortress of leaves encased his parent’s vehicles. To his right, half a single Spider-Man covered shoe lay on the ground. A staple character in Anton’s catalogue of role models. But where was Anton?

The leaves on the ground were dense, but too shallow to hide a boy’s body — no matter how young he was. He probably went back in the house for me. Yet when Trent turned around, the house was no longer there. It vanished without a single parting message. At this point, Trent was sure he’d slipped up and consumed whatever drug Scoot took.

Scoot. Why would he think about that old man at a time like this? He reasoned with himself and examined the leaves. Ah-ha. Tea leaves. As a waiter, he’d prepared tea on many occasions for patrons. The very sight of the leaves made his hands ache. What he saw scrawled on them made his stomach turn.

“Congratulations. The fourth dimension has selected you for interdimensional testing. We welcome you Anton.”