The young scientist Zeus Smith built the camera obscura in his parent’s attic - a pinhole to bring the outside world home. It went a little further than he had intended. A stray beam from a distant sun struck his retina and brought him a message, incomplete, a tiny portion of the whole. There is a fine line between genius and insanity – so they say. Well, Zeus pole vaulted over that imaginary border and landed smack dab in the middle of stark raving mad. He began immediately to calculate and construct. He had to bring home more of the light. Zeus would never have done it under ordinary circumstances he often muttered afterwards. He would have gone into the chamber himself, but someone had to view the experiment. Someone had to take notes. He would never have done it had he known what would happen. If he hadn’t forgotten to eat, if he hadn’t gone seventy three hours without sleep, if he hadn’t been mesmerized by the light, if… He never did question the fact that he had built the chamber the exact size of the neighbor boy. The foolish monkey named Zeus had imprinted HIS essence upon the boy. Now his alien material was mixed with inferior flesh. But he was not mad. He, too, was a scientist and would use the time he awaited rescue to research the primitive creatures called humans. He just had to find a way to observe them without drawing attention to his… unusual appearance. Walter, age 4, saw a boy made of wood. How his family had laughed. “You saw a ventriloquist and his dummy, silly.” But dummies did not control their ventriloquists. They did not look at you like they wanted to eat you. Dummies did not radiate a low hum of bass that made your tummy ache or wake you with night terrors. Walter had seen a wooden boy.