The first thing Janet noticed when she got home from work was a four-inch thick manual on the coffee table. Next to it were empty boxes and layers of bubble wrap. "Great," she thought, setting her coat and purse onto the sofa. "What had her husband gotten into now?" She looked down at the manual's title: "1003 Easy Steps to Creating a Walk-Thru-Walls Belt." This must be the big anniversary present -- the big surprise. What a disappointment; last night they'd been discussing a trip to Hawaii. Frowning, she hefted up the manual and carried it down the hall to the study.

"Hey, Matt."

Matt looked up from the carpet where he was surrounded by metallic bits and pieces. He glanced at the book in her hands and grinned. "I see you've discovered my big surprise."

"What about our trip?"

"This is much more practical. You're going to love it."

Not wanting to be accused of being unsupportive, Janet ignored that comment and changed the subject. "Matt, did you read this manual?"

"No. A ten year old could put this together."

"Maybe a ten year old with a genius IQ who is mechanically gifted."

Matt frowned, giving her the stubborn look that she hated, and started working on his project again.

"Listen Matt, this stuff could be dangerous if you start skipping steps. I don't want you getting hurt."

"Okay, Okay," he said, standing up and taking the manual from her. "Don't worry. I'll get to it." He tossed it onto the desk.

"That's what you said about the garbage disposal that you decided to upgrade. It took two electricians and three plumbers to fix it.

He waved his hand, dismissing the comment. "A common mistake."

"And don't forget the self-mowing lawn mower that you tinkered with.

"I got it to work."

"Yes, you did. It worked right over Mr. Harold's tulip patch." Janet leaned against the doorframe. "And then there's our microwave."

"It was just a little fire."

"That's not the point. If you'd read the instruction manual before starting your projects..."

"This is different, Jan. What could go wrong? All the parts are numbered. I just match them up. Piece of cake."

"Matt."

Matt stepped forward and kissed her. Then he shoved her out of the room and shut the door. Frustrated, Janet kicked it. The door opened a crack and Matt's face appeared. "Don't kick the door. I'm at a very sensitive part right now."

Janet opened her mouth to retort, but the door clicked shut. She took a deep breath and rolled her eyes. If Mr. Disaster-Waiting-To-Happen wasn't going to listen, then he better not come running to her when things didn't work out. She turned on her heel, putting thoughts of her husband and his endless succession of ill-planned projects out of her mind, and stomped into the kitchen to make dinner.

For the next two days, Janet fumed while Matt ensconced himself in the study. On the third day, he joined her in the living room.

"I finished it." He pointed at the belt around his waist, a sleek silver interlocking chain that was outfitted with a card-deck sized box containing two switches. "I only had five pieces left over," he said, dumping a handful of hardware onto the coffee table.

"Those might be important."

"No. Companies always put in extra screws and things. How about a demonstration?"

Before she could say "No," he'd flipped one of the switches on the belt and the air shimmered around him. He looked down at the armchair and stepped into it, his body passing through as if he were a ghost. Janet had to admit it was pretty impressive.

"Isn't this great?" he said, from the middle of the chair. "I can walk through anything." He stepped out of the chair and walked through the coffee table several times. "I told you I could do it and I didn't even need to crack open that manual."

He turned to grin at her. "Let's see if I can walk through you."

"No way. I don't want you anywhere near me while you're wearing that thing."

"Ah, come on, Janet," he said, reaching for her.

She skittered backwards. "I'm serious, Matt."

"It's perfectly safe. Come here."

"No," she said, ducking his outstretched arms. She grabbed a book off the shelf and lobbed it at him. It sailed right through his head.

Matt laughed. "Come here sweetie. Don't be scared."

"I mean it, Matt. Stay away from me." Janet ran out of the living room to the bedroom and slammed the door. She watched the door, but then realized he could come in from the walls. She was about to crawl out the window when she heard him yelp.

After a moment of silence, he called, "Uh, Janet. Honey. I need some help here. I'm in the guest room."

Janet walked down the hall and peered into the room. Matt stood on the far side; one hand embedded in the wall.

"My hand is stuck!" With his free hand, Matt flipped the belt switches back and forth in rapid succession.

"Stop that, Matt. You're going to break it."

"It's already broken!"

"Then you're going to make it worse." She turned to leave.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"I'm not touching that thing until I read that manual."

She found the manual on the desk in the study where Matt had tossed it three days ago. Flipping through it, she looked for a Help telephone number. No number, but there was an address on the back page. She guessed she'd just have to chip him out of the wall and take him and his wall-encrusted hand to the company.

Snapping the book shut, she smiled as she walked back to the guest room. This was going to be the first time she really enjoyed fixing one of his project mishaps.

"Good news, Matt," she said, stepping into the room. "The company has a Crisis Department. And guess what? It's in Hawaii."