Awake Read online

  I stood up and embraced her. “Thank you. That's what I want.”

  EPILOGUE

  After Lynne returned, I found the following days and weeks to be somewhat stressful, thinking that at any time she, or other agents, would descend on my home in some effort to take me in. Thinking the memory wipes I had performed on Thomas and his agents wouldn't hold. Thinking something would disturb my world, as basic as it was.

  It never happened, and gradually I was able to relax.

  My life returned to a comfortable routine. When the weather was nice I spent hours in my garden, and when it wasn't, I found other things to occupy my time. I purchased a keyboard and started teaching myself how to play. I checked job listings and sent out some resumes. I didn't need to work, but I wanted to keep busy. I found opportunities to volunteer, and did so at my local library 12 hours a week. I was content with life, and content with what I was doing with my life, although part of me craved something more.

  I was sleeping ten hours a night, more sleep than I had ever gotten in my life, with vivid dreams I had a hard time remembering when I awoke.

  One morning in particular was difficult; I woke up and found I was having a difficult time remembering things, even basic things from the recent past.

  This had followed a night where sleep hadn't come, a night I spent tossing and turning, drifting off on occasion for stretches of minutes.

  Feeling muddled and confused, I headed to the shower and then got dressed. Maybe a cup of coffee would help.

  Sitting on my couch, I sipped my coffee and tried to get a grip on my thoughts, which were racing and, most troubling, was that my thoughts were being filled with memories and images that I couldn't connect to my own life. As if, somehow, the memories and experiences of someone else were being uploaded into my brain.

  I shook my head, in an effort to clear it, but it didn't help.

  Images, thoughts, words continued to flood my mind.

  I closed my eyes and tried to clear these thoughts and images; I focused, on the verge of using my own ability to stop this, when all of a sudden it stopped on its own.

  My mind, now filled with memories of things that I had done, but couldn't associate with me; it was like watching the home movies of a stranger.

  And something else, like a name on the tip of your tongue, but I wasn't connecting the dots.

  At least it was over. Whatever had happened.

  I found I was exhausted; my eyes were heavy, and I fell asleep on the couch.

  Some time later – I wasn't sure how much longer – I was awakened by my doorbell.

  Lynne, back again?

  I was a mess; my clothes were wrinkled and my hair was now in an interesting style. But I didn't care. I pulled myself up and headed to the door.

  Opened it.

  “Hi Charles.”

  It was Melissa. My Melissa. Standing there. Dressed as she usually was, which was in a blouse and jeans. Tight jeans, I noticed, but I was having a hard time forming coherent thoughts.

  She looked fabulous. Incredible. And it was impossible that she was standing there. Of course, the last several months of my life had been filled with the impossible, so this shouldn't have shocked me.

  It did, of course.

  She looked at me, expectantly. The look on my face must have worried her. “Are you okay, Charles? What's wrong?”

  I rubbed my eyes; she was still standing there. I even reached up and pinched my cheek. My eyes watered, but she remained there.

  I finally spoke. “Mel. Hi. Sorry. I had a bad night. Do you want to come in?”

  “Sure,” she said, smiling. “Did you forget our date? We were going to meet for coffee. At least I thought that was the plan. It was today, right?” She pulled out a phone and touched the screen. “Yeah, here's your email. Today, at noon.”

  “I'm sorry, Mel. I slept like crap and it just...slipped my mind.”

  “No worries,” she said, heading to the couch. “I like what you've done with the place.”

  My mind was reeling, and speech was nearly impossible.

  Lynne.

  Lynne had done this. Gone back in time. Prevented the accident.

  That explained all the strange thoughts and memories that had flooded my head. But I was having trouble accessing those memories. There were fragments; I could almost remember us exchanging emails. There were fleeting images of my approaching her by email, suggesting we try to be friends again...the pieces were there, but I wasn't able to put them together, at least not at that moment.

  She sat at the couch. “Do you still want to go out? I guess we could have our coffee here and talk.”

  “Would it be okay if we just talked here?” I managed. “I have a pot of coffee on. Let me get you a cup.”

  I stumbled my way into the kitchen and poured two cups. I returned to the living room.

  “Your hands are shaking,” Melissa said, concerned. “Let me get that. What's wrong?” she reached to me, took the mugs of coffee, and set them on the coffee table.

  “Thanks,” I said. I sat down next to her, marveling at her scent, her presence. “It's nothing, sometimes when I don't sleep I get the shakes. It's not serious. It'll go away.”

  She smiled. “I'm glad. I used to get so worried about you when we were married. I was happy when you started telling me that you were sleeping again.”

  “You and me both,” I said. I was trying to smile but my heart was beating so hard that I felt I might pass out. I took a breath and tried another smile on. This one seemed to work. “It's good to see you, Mel. It really is. You have no idea.”

  She nodded. “I think I do know. It's good to see you, too. We have a lot to catch up on.”

  “We do,” I said. “A lot has happened in the last few years.”

  “You had mentioned that in one of your emails,” she replied, taking a sip of her coffee. “You know, at first I didn't think this was a good idea. Seeing you again. Talking to you. But I'm glad you reached out to me. I feel like I'm ready to be your friend again.”

  I smiled. “We could be treading dangerous ground, here,” I said.

  She shrugged. “We'll be careful...right?”

  “Of course.”

  “How's the teaching job coming along? I always thought you'd make a good teacher. I'm glad you went and got your teaching license. Those eighth graders must be a handful.”

  My mind was working overtime, and at first of course I had no idea what she was talking about – teacher? I hadn't done anything, really, in months. But then...

  The memories were flooding in, and what they were doing was not replacing my memories of the last month, but...supplementing them, somehow. And now I was remembering a classroom, and rowdy kids, and the fact that I was teaching...

  “They are a bit rowdy, but science class before lunch can be a bit hard to handle. They're good kids.”

  “I don't know how you do it,” Melissa replied. “I wouldn't have the patience.”

  “You just have to get their attention,” I said. “I've learned some interesting tricks.”

  “Speaking of tricks,” she said, “you were going to show me something that you called 'amazing.' The way you talked about it in your emails, it was something I wouldn't believe.”

  I looked at her, and as I did, the memories clarified: I had hinted to her in emails about my ability...but why? And now I was going to show her? My mind raced back and tried to remember the details, and it came to me. But why had I done this? I wasn't picking up that important piece of information.

  “Right,” I said. “Yeah, I do have something to show you. It's kind of...well, I can't really explain it very well. It's something I have to show you.”

  She smiled. “I'm excited! What is it?”

  I stood up and took her hand. “Where do you want to go?”

  She looked surprised that I had held her hand, but didn't let go.

  “Go? What do you mean? Like for lunch?”

  “Sure,” I said. “Lunch, where do y
ou want to go for lunch?”

  “Oh, I love that Indian place near me – you know which one, right?”

  “Right,” I said. “The one off of 134th?”

  “Yes!” she said. “That's the one.”

  “Keep a hold of my hand,” I said.

  “Sure. Why?”

  “Things are going to get...odd,” I said. I closed my eyes, picturing the Indian restaurant. Even though I hadn't used my powers in months, I found I was enjoying it, and wondered why I'd been avoiding doing this.

  As I was thinking this, we emerged on the sidewalk in front of the restaurant.

  “We're here.”

  Melissa was gripping my hand. We had gone from the warmth of my home to being outdoors, and it was a cool day out; she had left her sweater at my house. She was looking everywhere at once.

  “We...how did we get here?”

  “This is the thing I was talking to you about,” I said. “I have this ability...a power, whatever you want to call it. I've had it most of my life.”

  She was smiling. “This is so COOL! What can you do?”

  “Anything,” I replied. “Anything I can think of. I'm only limited by my imagination.”

  “No way!” she laughed. “Anything?”

  “Anything,” I nodded. “Should we go in and grab some lunch?”

  “No!” she laughed. “I want to see more. Take me somewhere exotic. How long does it take? I mean, we got here fast, is it just as fast anywhere else?”

  “As fast as thought,” I said. During all of this, the main thing going through my mind was, she's sure taking this well. Did she know, on some deep subconscious level that this sort of thing was possible?

  She was jumping up and down like a child anticipating a birthday present. “Come on, show me, Charles! What else?”

  The street was busy with automobiles; I took her hand and walked towards it.

  “What are you going to do?” she asked.

  “Don't worry, nothing is going to happen to you,” I said. “Nothing ever bad will happen to you.”

  We reached the street, and for the moment it was clear. We walked to the middle of it, and as car began approaching (some honking their horns) I closed my eyes.

  The traffic came to a stop.

  As were a few birds that had been flying overhead.

  Melissa squealed. “What did you do, Charles? Did you stop time?”

  “I did,” I said. “I must say, you're taking this better than I did when it first started happening to me.”

  “Can I...let go?” Melissa said, looking down at my hand. “Will it...affect this?”

  I let go of her hand. “Nope, it'll stay this way until I change it.”

  She wandered around, peering into the cars, looking up at the few birds that had flown down. One of them had been descending, and it was close enough for Melissa to reach up and touch it.

  I was following her, smiling.

  “This is incredible,” she said. “How can you do this?”

  “I have no idea,” I said. “Once it started happening, I kind of had to accept it without being able to explain it.”

  “Have you ever gone to...I don't know, maybe a scientist? The government?”

  “I haven't. That's not exactly an idea I'm comfortable with.”

  “That's understandable,” she said, wandering around some more. After a few moments she returned to my side and grabbed my hand. “You can...well, you know. Turn it back on again.”

  We returned to the sidewalk, and I closed my eyes. The cars resumed their speedy commute.

  “Do they know?” Melissa asked. “When you do that, are they aware of it?”

  “As far as I know, they don't,” I said, although frankly, I had no idea. “Time resumes from right before I stopped it, so to their perspective, nothing has changed.”

  “You can stop time, you can...what, teleport?”

  I grinned. “I suppose that's the right word for it.”

  “Can you go back in time?” she asked.

  At this, my heart almost skipped a beat. I took a moment before saying, “I don't know, I've never tried it.”

  At the moment, lying seemed like the best thing. I hated lying to her, but the last thing I wanted to do was get her back in time, or know that I was capable of it, and have something happen to her again.

  “Wouldn't it be amazing if you could?” she asked. “Go back in time, buy a winning lottery ticket, you'd be rich!”

  I laughed. “I feel rich right now. I don't think I'd need to go back and time to make that happen.”

  “True,” she said. “Where else can you take me?”

  “Anywhere you want to go,” I said.

  “Anywhere?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Surprise me, Charles. Take me somewhere amazing.”

  I nodded, and closed my eyes.

  When I opened them, we were standing on another sidewalk, this one crowded with pedestrians; in this city, having something weird happen to you isn't out of the ordinary, and most of the people walking by tried to ignore the fact that two people had materialized out of nowhere.

  Melissa squealed. “Times Square! Charles, you know I've always wanted to go here!”

  It was a warm day in the Big Apple, surprising for this time of year.

  She hooked her arm through mine, and we made our way down the street.

  “I'm hungry!” she said. “How about some pizza?”

  “I'm sure we can find something,” I said. I had put us in Times Square, of course, since I didn't know much of this city beyond what I had seen on television.

  We wandered, and eventually came to a small pizza place, where we indulged in two large slices.

  “This is so good!” Melissa cried. “We can eat all around the world!”

  I patted my stomach. “I'm not sure I could handle doing that all the time!”

  After our meal, we explored the city for a while, Melissa wide-eyed at everything she saw.

  “Let's go to the Empire State Building!” she exclaimed.

  “Sure,” I said. “What, now? Or do it the way tourists do it?”

  She nudged me. “Screw that! Do it your way!”

  I closed my eyes; this time, I sent my mind out to the observation platform at the Empire State Building to find a spot where we wouldn't be noticed. No sense in attracting a lot of attention here.

  I opened my eyes, and we both were immediately chilled by the wind; we had forgotten coats.

  It was a clear day, and we had a nice view of the city.

  Melissa asked for some change, and I gave it to her; she fed it into one of the pay telescopes for a look.

  “This is incredible,” she said, after returning to me. “What a view!”

  “I can think of another view you might enjoy,” I said. “Do you want to check it out?”

  “What, already?” Melissa said. “Sure, we can always just come back here.” She grabbed my hand. “Amaze me.”

  I closed my eyes.

  We played tourist that day; we visited all of the places Melissa said she had wanted to visit in her life. Paris (of course), Sydney, cities all over England, the Grand Canyon, the shores of Hawaii. Wherever she wanted to go, I took her.

  During this trip I imagined her as the teenager she must have been, her face full of amazement and wonder as we took in the sights.

  We were walking along Waikiki Beach, our shoes off (and dressed for the city) when she said, “Charles, this is all...I just don't what to say. It's like every dream I've ever had is coming true.”

  I smiled. “I feel the same way.” If only you knew, my love, I thought.

  “There's something weird, though,” she said. She stopped walking. “It's like, in the back of my mind, are these...thoughts, memories, I'm not sure. And it's like they're from a different life, one that I don't remember. I can almost grasp them, but I never can. Does that sound odd?”

  “No, it doesn't,” I replied, thinking: does part of her know that she had di
ed? But how could she know if that never happened? I really needed to meet a temporal physicist, or someone who better understood all of this time travel stuff, because I sure didn't. “Not odd at all. Isn't that deja vu, or whatever?”

  “Maybe,” she said doubtfully. “I don't know what it is. It's not even a specific memory that bothers me, it's like there's a feeling behind it, one of incredible sadness.”

  “We'll figure it out, Mel,” I said. “That is, if you want me to help you figure it out.”

  She smiled. “I'd like that.” The ocean breeze was comforting and cool. “This is some view. I don't know if I can handle much more of this.”

  “We can go home now, if you want to.”

  “No, I want to see one more thing. I want to see something amazing.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Something amazing.”

  I closed my eyes.

  From our viewpoint, Earth was a dazzling mass of blue light, against a backdrop of billions of stars.

  Melissa looked at me, crying. “How...I didn't think you could do THIS,” she sobbed. “And we're talking...and breathing...and not dying. This is the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me.”

  I nodded. “Don't worry, I create reality as I need it, we're fine.”

  “I just...I don't have the words,” she whispered, as she tried to take in everything all at once: the stars, the blackness of space, and our planet before us.

  “This is a dream, isn't it?” Melissa finally said. “It has to be. It's too amazing to be real.”

  “It's real,” I said, and held her. “And it's not a dream. But this isn't what's amazing.”

  “It's not?” she whispered. “What is?”

  “You are.”

  THE END