Kevin Ryan: A New Beginning

"Yes," said the three guys in the car.

Maria shook her head again.

"Look," Michael explained with forced patience. "All guys see themselves as one of the Corleone brothers: Michael, the quiet but brilliant leader of the family, or Sonny, the hotheaded muscle.”

"Max, you don't buy this, do you?" Maria said, looking for a ray of sanity. "You don't think of yourself as Michael?”

"Well, I am… was King, after all," he said.

"I guess that would make you Sonny?" Maria said to Michael.

"If the shoe fits," Michael said.

Rolling her eyes, Maria turned to Kyle. "What about you, Mister Buddha? Tell me you don't think of yourself as… who?”

Kyle's face took on a serious expression. "It's true that Buddhist philosophy gives me a sense of peace that makes the Mafia metaphor a bad fit. On the other hand, it allows me to take a larger view of important issues, making me… if possible… even more like Michael," he concluded with a satisfied grin.

They are all crazy, Maria thought. Then she remembered something about those movies. "Wait, there was another brother, Free… Frey…," she said.

"Fredo," Michael said immediately. "Yeah, no guy sees himself as Fredo. He was the cowardly, loser brother. Plus, he betrayed Michael.”

"Well, I know plenty of Fredos. I've dated many of them," Maria said sourly, shooting Michael a look.

"Well, no guy sees himself as Fredo, ever," Michael said.

"In fact," Max added, "the more like Fredo a guy is, the less likely he is to see it.”

"You are twisted… sick and twisted," Maria said to Michael. She looked at Max, then at Kyle. "And not just you, the whole gender.”

"You asked," Michael said, "We're just providing information.”

Maria grunted and looked at Liz for support. Her best friend had been completely silent since she'd told them about her premonition. To Maria's surprise, Liz was watch- ing the exchange with a smile on her face.

"I'm glad you find this amusing," Maria said.

The frustration on Maria's face only made Liz smile wider. That made Maria smile herself.

Maria tossed her head back into her seat. "Impossible, all of you.”

Liz actually laughed, as Michael looked on with satis- faction.

Well, Space Boy might be driving me completely crazy, but at least he's good for a laugh, Maria thought.

Another thought quickly pushed that one out of the way. She barely remembered The Godfather, just a few scenes and images. One of them was terrible: Sonny met up with a bunch of guys with machine guns at a tollbooth.

There was a lot of blood, and that was the end for Sonny.

She took a look at Michael and wondered what she was in for with him.

Kyle heard his stomach growl. With all the excitement of leaving Roswell, and then Liz's dream, he had not thought much about food.

"I could go for a Snapple," he heard Michael say.

"Where's the next town, Liz?" Max asked.

Liz took a minute to wrestle with a beat-up road atlas she had found somewhere in the van. The oversize book was coming apart, but Liz located the right map and said, "I don't think this road is on the map, it's too small," Liz said.

Kyle scanned the two-lane road. It was a little less des- olate than the rocky desert that seemed to make up most of New Mexico. Southern Colorado was still a rocky desert, but it was one with more scrub and even a few trees. And the hills in the distance were a promising green.

"There has to be a town eventually," Kyle said, though they hadn't passed one for miles. And he could not see one up ahead on the twisting road that they were traveling.

Suddenly, there was a snap from somewhere in the front, and the van shuddered. Immediately, it began to slow down.. "Something's wrong," Max said. The car was coasting now, and losing speed quickly. He guided it to the road's shoulder… though shoulder was a kind term for the dusty earth next to the road.

A moment later they had come to a stop.

"Out of gas, Maxwell?" Michael asked.

"Not according to the gauge," Max said. "We should have over a quarter of a tank.”

"I think something went under the hood," Kyle said. "I heard a pop.”

Max nodded and said, "I'll take care of it," as he got out of the van.

"I'm going to stretch my legs," Maria said.

Michael followed her out of the car, and then Kyle did himself. He turned back to see Isabel coming. He instinc- tively reached out a hand to take her arm and help her out.

She tensed at his touch, and Kyle was immediately self- conscious. He realized that he could not remember Isabel speaking for hours since they had left.

A look at her face told him why. Isabel was always so controlled; it was strange to see her look… fragile. Her eyes were red… not from crying, Kyle knew, but from keeping herself from doing it.

Kyle hadn't given up nearly as much as she had. In fact, had he given up anything? A job in the local garage, where his boss had laughed in his face when Kyle had suggested that he might eventually become a partner. Kyle hadn't even been a full mechanic. He was just an assistant.

Just three years ago, he had been starting linebacker- running back at Roswell High and had Liz Parker as his girlfriend. He had been student athlete of the month, he remembered, and that had seemed very important to him at the time. It was during that month that things had started to go wrong between him and Liz.

Ultimately, he knew that he hadn't really loved Liz… not like Max did. Still, at the time, he couldn't imagine wanting anyone more. What had happened in the years since then? Well, a lot of strange things tied into the Big Alien Secret. But none of that really had anything to do with his fate later.

He was a good football player… one of the most tal- ented on the team. The coach had given him both offen- sive and defensive positions to keep him on the field more. He had led his division in sacks two years in a row, but it had been a small division. And in the end, no one was beating down his door to give him a scholarship. He was just not tall enough for college ball.

He had also been on the basketball team and the base- ball team. And he was good at each game, for Roswell. Yet, none of those sports would give him any kind of future, he knew. When the opportunity came to leave Roswell, he had jumped at it. He couldn't face spending the rest of his life in the garage. And he didn't belong in the sheriff's office like his dad and his grandfather did, he knew.

So he was in an ancient Volkswagen van with his friends in the middle of nowhere.

And this was the best prospect I had, he thought, with a smile. Back when he was still on the team and still cared about football, he'd thought he could never be closer to anyone than he was to the guys on the team.

A lot had changed since then. Taking a glance at his friends, he decided that this wasn't such a bad deal after all.

By now, Max had the hood of the van opened and was looking inside.

Michael looked up and down the road to confirm that there were no cars approaching and said, "All clear, let her rip.”

Max nodded and raised his hand, which was now glowing with green energy. He put his hand on the engine, concentrating hard for a few seconds. "Try it," he said to Liz, who was in the driver's seat now.

She turned the key; the engine clicked, but refused to start. Max was immediately by her side. "Did you give it gas?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Let me try," he said as Liz moved over.

Max turned the key. Still nothing but a click.

"I'll fix it," Isabel offered, taking a position in front of the open hood. Raising her hand, she used her powers on the engine, and then nodded to Max.

This time, there was a loud snap, then the familiar clicking sound.