Don't Jump In Puddles You Can't See The Bottom Of

Chapter 1

Don't Jump in Puddles You Can't See The Bottom Of.

No, seriously. I'm speaking from experience. Please look carefully and make sure the puddle you're going to jump into does, in fact, have a bottom. I made the mistake of NOT checking, and this is what happened.

It looked like a decently deep puddle. Maybe an inch and a half or two inches. Not too wide. Perfect for a good splash. The water was dark, but hey, it just stopped raining and the storm still covered the sky, so of course the water was going to look dark.

Looks can be deceiving.

I jump in, without a care in the world other than wanting to make a good splash and soak my jeans, but my feet never found a bottom. After half a second and the realization that I was falling into the puddle I start screaming. That probably saved my life because I was exhaling as I passed through the water and didn't inhale any. Passing through the water also successfully got all my clothes wet.

I scream and fall and scream and fall and after passing through the two inches of water and through the non-existent bottom, I come into normal air and keep screaming and falling and screaming and falling until

Okay, I'm totally serious.

I am not joking, I swear.

I land on a trampoline covered in pillows.

I am absolutely not joking.

I keep screaming for a few minutes, my face smothered in a pillow, until it sinks into my consciousness that I'm not falling anymore and I'm not dead either.

I stop screaming and sit up, gasping for breath, and look around. I'm in someone's nicely manicured backyard. A pool sits a few yards away behind me. A nice two story house with blue trim sits between the front yard and the back yard.

And on the back porch is a guy drinking pop, sitting in a rocking chair, as if people fall into his backyard every day.

Who knows, maybe they do.

I sit there, staring at him, and he sits there, blinking back. Then he takes a long, leisurely swig from his can of pop and sets it down, gets up, and clomps down the stairs, hands in his pockets.

He seems remarkably un-freaked out for someone who just had a stranger fall onto his trampoline from thin air.

Then it hits me that this pillow covered trampoline is strategically placed right under where I fell, so maybe this is a natural occurrence in his world.

He approaches the trampoline and crosses his arms on the edge of it, leaning in as if we're old friends. I open my mouth to demand where I am and why I'm here but my tongue freezes when I see his eyes.

They're a very in-human and very reptilian golden-green.

And his pupils aren't round.

They're slits.

He holds his hand out. "I'm Luke."

"Anika." My mouth replies for me. I can't remember how to move my arms but he doesn't seem to mind when I don't shake his hand.

"Puddle jumping?" he asks.

I nod and I think my mouth is still hanging open but I can't take my eyes off his eyes.

He nods. "Thought so. Nobody can resist a good puddle, can they?" His reptilian gold slitted eyes twinkle with amusement.

I cough or choke or something and finally remember how to make words come out of my mouth. "How did you know?"