It had promised to be a hot day and the weather had definitely kept its word. Even the inaccurate kitchen clock seemed to suffer from the heat and struggled to reach the eleventh hour, slowly creeping to the numbers.

Not that Zach saw that, as he had already headed out in an attempt to beat the heat that had miserably failed.

He and Tara passed by the small strip mall that was a stone’s throw from their house and briefly Zach considered getting ice cream, but came to the conclusion it probably wasn't open yet. Besides, he didn’t know how much he’d have left after buying his car. He did however decided to make sure to save some money to rent a movie on the way back. He tried to remember if anything good had come out recently, but was distracted by Tara who was trying to get his attention.

“Sup?” he asked, then frowned when he first saw the flashing orange lights, then the signs and finally noticed the heavy machinery crowding the bridge.

The bridge they’d normally take to reach the junkyard was closed for repairs, which meant they’d either have to go back or walk to the next one, which was a few miles upriver.

Zach was ready to go back, but Tara had already made the decision for them, heading down the road towards the next bridge.

“A long walk!” Zach called after, “It’ll take forever!”

Tara shrugged, “Do you have somewhere to be?”

Zach threw a longing look at the strip mall and it’s central air conditioning, but realized he’d probably just spend his money on stupid things in there, so he followed his sister along the rarely traversed road.

Zach wiped the sweat from his brow, pausing a moment to watch a barge filled with car wrecks drift by them and to give himself a brief moment of respite from his sister’s odd narration of their walk.

“Our brave heroine,” she muttered to herself, “Was traveling the lone road with her minstrel, Zarko.”

“...Zarko?” Zach said when he had caught up, side-eyeing his sister, “I hope that’s your imaginary friend and not me.”

Tara just offered him a mysterious smile, then continued with her story, describing a fantastical land of dragons, princesses that garnered an inordinate amount of description, and brave knights to rescue aforementioned princesses from aforementioned dragons and other monsters.

Zach had to admit he was impressed with her imagination, unsure if she just stole everything from her books and games, but he definitely only saw unworked fields. Fields that once might have fed a farmer’s family if they’d been worked, but the fields were just… There.

Grass, shrubs and weeds had quickly taken over, with the fields only sparsely being used by the owner.

To what Zach knew, most of the lands belonged to the same farmer who had once flourished in these parts, but was now too old to do much with the extended fields. The bank had offered good money, but he didn’t want to see his fields turn into a suburb, and he’d rather see the land turn back to nature than selling it to the bank.

A single cow stood staring blankly around herself. Tara’s imagination and narration had turned it into a mighty Minotaur, which her hero was avoiding. The hero of course being Tara herself, or more specifically, the fair barbarian maiden, A’rat.

“A’rat?” Zach asked.

“A’rat,” Tara confirmed.

“That’s just your name backwards.”

“Wrong!” Tara chimed, “There’s one of those floaty commas between the A and the R.”

“Floaty commas?”

“Like in ‘can’t’ and ‘don’t.”

“Apostrophes?”

“Yes!”

Zach smirked, “English class is not just for reading books, you know?”

Tara only stuck out her tongue in response.

“You try sitting through one of Carson’s classes.”

“I did, Tara. And so did dad, he says.”

“Must be a vampire.”

Zach chuckled, “Sure, Tara. Old mister Carson with the tweed jackets and elbow patches is a vampire.”

“Lots of virgins to drink in middle schools…”

After the short exchange about the teacher, they walked in silence for some time, until Zach, who lacked the talent to keep himself entertained the way Tara did, interrupted her half-whispered narration.

“Where is A’rat heading this time?” he asked.

“A’rat is heading to…” she started, then halted before she even began. She had clearly not thought that far ahead.

“To…” she stopped walking to thing, then came to a conclusion, “She is traveling to the lair of the machine monsters, where she is to procure a mount for her minstrel, Zarko.”

“Does that make me Zarko?” Zach said, playfully swiping a hand at his sister’s head.

“Maybe,” she replied, ducking down.

“Well, does that mean you’re paying?”

“Hey, what’s that!” Tara called suddenly, ignoring her brother’s question.

“Nice distraction,” he laughed, then noticed what had drawn her attention.

Tara pointed to a square object, half obscured by the bushes and standing proudly along the road. It clearly had no business being there.

As far as he could tell from the distance it was some sort of large kitchen appliance that looked as foreign to the rest of the area as Zach did to Tara’s story.

“A servant of the machine monsters?” he mockingly suggested.

Tara responded to this by looking around for a branch she could use as a pretend weapon, but found nothing.

“Be careful,” she said, dropping her voice a few octaves, “We do not know what evil powers their masters have bestowed.”

Zach put his hands in the pockets of his shorts and slowly walked up to it.

“Zarko!” Tara called, a warning note to her voice.

“Drop it for a moment,” Zach shushed her, “I think it’s a dishwasher!”

Tara, who wanted to continue her game, stopped in the middle of opening her mouth, then shrugged her shoulders, “So?”

“So, mom’s been wanting a dishwasher.”

“And…?”

“And, this one probably fell off a delivery truck. Free dishwasher, sis. Help me move it.”

“We can’t lift that!” Tara protested.

“Is A’rat backing down from a challenge?”

Even though it was a weak attempt, it worked. Tara was on the machine faster than Zach himself.

They grabbed either side and attempted to life the machine.

Ten minutes of grunting and straining later, they came to the conclusion they’d be needing help to move it.

“We could call Sawyer?” Tara suggested.

“With what?” Zach replied, looking up and down the road, “No pay phones here. I guess we can call him from the junkyard though.”

“Then we better get moving before somebody else finds it.”

Zach was about to inform her that nobody ever walked there, then remembered the cow.

“Maybe the mighty Minotaur needs to polish his horns.”

Tara once again stuck her tongue out, ignored her brother and continued her story.

“Having bested the machine monsters mighty….guardian.”

“Lost the alliteration there,” Zach grinned, following after her.

“Well, do you have a better word?”

“Minion?” Zach replied, having foreseen the question.

Tara stopped to think for a moment, mouthing the words to herself, then nodded in agreement before continuing her story.

“Having bested the machine monsters’ mighty minion, A’rat and Zarko continued on their way to the Bridge of Doom.”

“Doom?”

“Yes, because it’s guarded by…” Tara started, losing her train of thought when she saw an orange sports car speed up towards them.

“Oh look,” Zach said, “It’s Sawyer.

“In the General Pee.”

One loud series of honking later, the General Pee shot by them, receding into the distance.

“He’s got Sophie in there,” Zach said, “On his way to go ‘swimming’.”

They took a moment to laugh at the word ‘swimming’, before Zach insisted on knowing.

“What’s guarding the Bridge of Doom then?”

Tara was lost in thought for a minute and finally answered, “It’s a secret. Nobody knows, because the creature is too scary.”

“Hope you’ll think of something soon, we’re almost there.”

After another half hour of walking, which Tara had filled with fantastical monsters, had passed, they reached the ‘Bridge of Doom’. This was a major letdown. There was a bridge, and even though it was a shoddily constructed one by the lowest bidder, desperately in need of repairs and maintenance, there was very little doom to be found on it.

Zach stopped to lean over the railing, that may once have been blue or white, but now was an odd

brownish decaying color, and spat into the river.

“No monsters!” he called over to Tara, who was making a face when she saw what her brother was doing.

“Must mean we’re lucky!”

“Sure, Tara.”

“A’rat!”

“Alright, Mighty Maiden A’rat. Now that we’re free of doom, can we keep going?”

“Of course! A mighty victory!”

“Great…”

Another hour of walking had depleted many of Tara’s ideas for monsters and quests and she had fallen into repetition, but thankfully, it was the end of their walk.

The Junkyard was proudly advertised as ‘Brooks’ Scrapyard’ and was a hotbed of activity.

The barge they had past earlier was being unloaded with some cars while others were being loaded back on it for whatever inscrutable purposes and another truck filled with wrecks honked at them.

The driver hung out the window to yell at the kids walking along the road.

Zach ignored an impulse to flip the man off, deciding it probably wasn’t a good idea to get in a fight with a short tempered trucker.

He pushed through a pedestrian gate in the face, ignoring the sign that said only staff were to use it.

Being the owner’s son had its perks. It wasn’t the perks of having a dad who owned the local ice cream place or a swimming pool, but for a place with nothing to do, a junkyard might as well be a theme park.

“No games, Tara,” Zach warned her, then stepped onto the ‘reception’. This existed in the shape of a school bus that had one side torn off, the wheels removed and most of the benches taken out. Others were rotated to create what might be considered an amiable waiting place.

He didn’t bother to wait, instead he pushed through the bus’s still intact back door and found who he was looking for.