Stranger Than Fanfiction(13)
In many ways, Topher had more reasons to be thankful for his brother. Living with someone who had actual struggles and genuine limitations gave Topher a unique perspective on his own life: Topher was an overachiever and a perfectionist because, in his mind, there was no reason he couldn’t be. His daily inconveniences seemed so minor in comparison to his brother’s. And knowing his brother would become his sole responsibility one day when their parents were gone, Topher never gave himself the option of failing.
Billy wasn’t keeping Topher from success; he was the key to Topher’s success.
“Mom, I would never blame Billy for this,” Topher said. “This is my decision and no one else’s. And it’s not a setback, it’s just a detour. MIT isn’t going anywhere.”
Shelly smiled, but the guilt never left her eyes.
“I don’t know what I did to deserve a son like you,” she said. “Now, speaking of detours, is everything set for your trip tomorrow?”
“I think so,” Topher said. “Thanks again for letting us use your car and taking the time off work so I could go.”
“It’s the least I could do,” Shelly said, and checked her watch. “I better get going so I’m not late—the drunks and stoners aren’t going to check in themselves. I’ll stop at the gas station on my way home so you can start your day tomorrow with a full tank.”
She kissed her son on the forehead and left for work.
Topher would have been lying to himself if he said he was happy about the decision to stay home for college. Still, he knew the right decision wasn’t always the easy one—that was a lesson Dr. Bumfuzzle had taught him in one of the early episodes of Wiz Kids.
He felt pathetic for thinking it, but even at eighteen, Topher held the fictional doctor in as much regard as he had when he was a child. Cash Carter’s character had always been a source of strength and inspiration during rough times. To this day, whenever he faced a challenge, Topher asked himself, What would Dr. Bumfuzzle do? and an answer would present itself.
Even though the character didn’t exist, Topher was often inclined to express his gratitude for his positive influence. So whenever the spirit moved him, he’d venture to CashCarter.com and write the actor a thank-you letter. It was either that or have a conversation with the poster in his bedroom.
Dear Mr. Carter,
It’s Topher Collins again from Downers Grove, Illinois. I know I’ve said this to you a thousand times, but once again I feel the need to thank you for your work on the show. I understand as an actor you have very little control over the things your character does, but the way you’ve portrayed him through the years has had such a profound effect on my friends and me. He’s our hero and we have you to thank.
Watching Wiz Kids is what brought us together, and watching the show is going to keep us together. We recently graduated high school and are splitting up soon to attend different colleges. I don’t know how we would stay connected if it weren’t for our Wednesday-night viewing parties. I’m sure it isn’t easy being famous or working on the same show for so long, but please know you have fans that couldn’t be more grateful for everything you do.
I don’t want to take any more of your time, but in case I get busy with school and don’t have a chance to write you again, it’s been a pleasure watching you and a privilege growing up with you.
Sincerely,
Topher Collins
Downers Grove, Illinois
PS—We leave tomorrow for a cross-country road trip. If you’re free, we would love for you to join us! LOL.
Topher figured that was enough vulnerability for one letter and sent it in. Just like all the letters he had sent Cash Carter over the years, he was sure it would get lost among the thousands the actor received daily. Regardless, it felt nice to pay his respects.
Topher went downstairs to check on his brother and found Billy sound asleep in his favorite Captain America pajamas. He slept so peacefully it made Topher tired just looking at him. With a huge day ahead of him, Topher got a glass of water from the kitchen and climbed the stairs back to his room to put himself to bed.
When Topher returned to his bedroom, the first thing that caught his eye was a notification on his computer screen he had never seen before. It was an alert from CashCarter.com letting him know his letter had been received… and the actor had replied!
Topher’s heart began palpitating and almost dropped into his stomach. Was this real life? He read the notification over and over again but it never changed. Holy shit this was real life! He dashed to his desk at lightning speed, tripped over his chair, and crawled on his knees to the edge of his desk. He clicked the link on the notification and the actor’s response loaded. With two words, Topher Collins’s life would never be the same:
What time?
Chapter Three
What the Psychic Said
Sam Gibson hated garlic with a fiery passion. At four o’clock, Monday through Saturday, the restaurant below her mother’s apartment, Garliholic’s, fired up its stoves and sent a strong aroma through the floorboards of Sam’s bedroom. The odor clung to her clothes and was impossible to mask with perfume or cologne, so she carried it wherever she went like a smelly Scarlet Letter.
The only thing in Sam’s arsenal to combat the zesty fumes was a collection of candles that rivaled the altar of a Catholic church. She had every seasonal and exotic fragrance imaginable laid out on her windowsill and lit them all to battle Garliholic’s. Sometimes the combination of so many scents gave Sam a headache, but it was better than smelling the restaurant’s sixty-clove chicken pasta specialty (which people ordered in droves every night despite all the one-star ratings Sam posted on Yelp).