—Intro scene—

Norman Nuss had not always led a life controlled by fear.  As a boy,  Norman loved to splash around in mud puddles and play “space ranger” in his tree house and if he saw a grasshopper on the lawn, he’d capture it and put it in a jar, watching it for hours before letting it go.  His mother worked as a school nurse and frowned upon his activities.  “You’re going to get dirty!  You’re going to fall! You’re going to catch a virus!”, she’d always say while his father would just laugh it off and encourage him to explore.  Norman looked up to his father.  The man was always traveling around the world, but always brought home a little trinket for Norman. “Someday I’m going to show you the world, Norman.  But for now I need you to be the man of the house and look after your momma.”

The night his father was suppose to get back from India, Norman sat in his treehouse, working on a trinket for his dad.  Using a nut he’d found, some twine, and scraps from his mother’s old blouse, he made his father a space ranger of his own to play with.  When car headlights turned into his driveway, Norman practically hopped out of the tree and ran for his father.  But the man who stepped out of the car wasn’t his dad, it was the father of his friend, Michael Beaulier, the sheriff of the town.  The sheriff sat Norman and his mom down in the kitchen.  It had been stormy out to sea that night, and no one had heard from the plane in hours.

By the time, Norman was adult, he had become a completely different person.  To many he seemed like a hard worker and great co-worker, but really he was just cautious.  He got up at 4am, showered, shaved, ate breakfast alone, went to the gym to swim for an hour, showered again, went to work,  got home at 6, ate dinner alone, showered, and went to bed.  Day after day, 364 days a year, Christmases off.  When asked to travel for business, he would always decline, volunteering someone else ‘better suited’ for the trip.  And if anyone needed extra work done, Norman would always accept.

This was his life, no children, no wife, no adventure, no dreams.  Work, work, work, work, work, until one day, death.  His casket sat there on the table for hours.  No one came. No one cried.  The Norman Nuss that the world knew was gone, at least, that was the plan anyway.