Aunt Persephone, the overweight, old Greek portion of his father’s side of the family, stepped aside. She had been blocking Jules view of Wells. He stepped carefully around her and half bowed in a mocking sort of way to Wells.

“You look splendid!” Wells said to Jules, stunned at the health and vigor his body shone with.

Jules smirked. “I’ve been eating a lot of apples.”

Everyone laughed, though they didn’t get the joke. Finally, the Priest, who was a very kind man, as well as a religious one, scooted everyone else out of the room so the two lads could have some privacy.

Jules sat down on the edge of Wells’ bed. “You look a bit darker than usual.”

Wells got cocky. “Oh, and I’’m usually dark then?”

“Usually.” Jules laughed.

Wells took  it with a grain of salt and got out of bed. He stretched, then his stomach growled loudly again. “I really am starving. How long have I been asleep?”

“Four days.” Jules said with a hint of solemnity.

“Oh my God!”Wells uttered, sitting back down hard on his bed. So hard it squeaked and groaned in protest.

Jules stood up and began pacing. “Wells, I feel that the world is falling apart around us and no one is taking it seriously. People march off to fight in the war machine, but none are returning. This doesn’t make sense.”

Wells thought about it a moment. “You’re right. Father left, and not a word. The military
department always let us know where he was. It doesn’t make sense.”

Jules stopped and stared at Wells. “Perhaps there is no War of the Worlds.”

“Whatever do you mean, Jules?

“Maybe there is no war, because it has already been won.”

Wells blanched. “My God! Do you know what you’re saying?”