Molly said, "Tell me your favorite color, make and model of your mom's car, and the number of rooms in your house." Tax-bracket determinism was Molly's theory of fate. She opened the flap to reveal young Barry's future. "I can't read it," she said, tossing it aside.
  "It says, 'Marries Molly,' Doug said, taking a break from snorting his glue stick after almost lodging it in his nostril.
  Young Barry snatched it and tossed it toward the closet. When older Barry reached out to get it, he could have sworn his younger self spotted him.
  Quickly, he ducked back into the closet and began to marvel at this wonder of childhood prophecy. Where would it take him?