by Abra Ebner
Statement from Dr. Ashcroft,
Vincent Memorial Hospital, Boston
August 4, 2009
12:56 a.m.
Agent Donnery:
So that was a completely different rendition.
Dr. Ashcroft:
(pause) Yes, I can’t believe that that one test would have changed my life forever.
Agent Donnery:
Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me. Let’s just say it’s awful hard for a farm boy from Kansas to pass the C.I.A. test the first time.
Dr. Ashcroft:
(laughter) We all have our secrets, right?
Agent Donnery:
So then you still have his side of what happened?
Dr. Ashcroft:
Yes, right here. Do you care to hear that as well or is it getting too repetitive?
Agent Donnery:
No, actually I’m intrigued. I’d like to know what he was thinking.
Dr. Ashcroft:
Yeah. (pause) Me too.
Formulated from the Journals of Patient #32185
December 8th, 2002
01:24 p.m.
I finished forging Kenzie’s name, took the finished test from the teacher’s desk, and leapt back through time and space as my body heated up like a pot of boiling water. When I opened my eyes, I landed in the lot just down the street where the garage I had rented two years ago was located. I shook away the nauseated feeling from the travel, my body growing used to the feeling after doing it for so long. I arrived at the garage and paused for a moment to breathe and re-group.
I had decided that keeping storage places throughout my life was a great idea, especially considering my condition and the fact that at this point, home was a definite grey area. I opened the rusty garage door that was covered in vines, the same door I had hacked my way through just yesterday. It was tedious at times to have to go through the same dilemmas twice, just as I knew the gas was going to pose a problem yet again, though I had found the time to get the additive. My bike stared at me through the dusty space, the chrome covered in a thick layer of dust as though I hadn’t touched it in years. I sighed, thinking of how clean it had just been.
I brushed my hand across the seat and threw my leg over the saddle and sat down. I looked at the gauges and shook the chassis, making sure nothing had changed though I knew it hadn’t. The problem with time travel was keeping things straight. Technically, I felt I’d already filled the tank with the old gas from the can, but naturally that hadn’t yet happened either because that time no longer existed.
I liked to travel on both paths of Kenzie’s life, the one with the scars and the one without, to determine which was better for her. After all the time spent in both, I was beginning to lean toward this life because at least here, the pain only ran on the surface, versus the pain that ran deep in her heart in the world where she had been robbed of all her dreams. She didn’t need the option to decide for herself because I knew what was better now, and I knew what was destined for her.
I tilted my head to the side and cracked my neck before placing the bike back on its stand and getting off. I rummaged through the garage for the gas can, already forgetting where I had found it before. Looking at my watch, I saw I was cutting it rather close and Kenzie’s class would be out in a little over thirty minutes. If I screwed this up she’d remain in her unhappy life as a nurse, but I didn’t want that for her anymore; she deserved better. Besides, I could always just rewind it again and start over, but at times it hurt to do it too many times and it left my body aching for days.
Since that day she saved me, I couldn’t forget her. She had become my angel and my reason to live. I remembered the vow I had made to save her from all her sadness, and come Hell or high water, that was what I was going to do. I was given this talent for a reason, and though it’s easy to act selfish, it feels good to use it as I have. Besides, I did not need my own life; this was my life.
I finally spotted the gas can in the far corner and gave it a shake, pulling the additive from my pocket and pouring it inside. I gave the can another brisk rattle, figuring it was enough to make it hold for the duration of the task. I opened the tank on the bike and drained the contents of the can into it, breathing in the thick fumes. Satisfied, I let out a contented breath and threw the empty can to the side as I climbed back onto the bike.
Some people would consider my attention to Kenzie’s life obsessive, but over the years, I couldn’t help but fall in love with her and her angelic way of life. I couldn’t let go. I was proud to have been a silent part of every bit of it, right down to the facts of her very happiness. I didn’t need her to know me and I didn’t need her thanks, because I knew in my heart that if she were in my position, she would have done the same for me.
I pressed down on the clutch and cranked the engine to life. The tense rumbling of the exhaust echoed off the old wooden walls of the garage, fumes pouring from the back in thick clouds of white smoke, choking the air around me. I rolled forward out of the smoke, allowing the engine to have a moment to purify so that it didn’t look as though I was riding a beater.
As I leaned against the handlebars, I smirked, remembering the way Kenzie had watched me leave the school lot this afternoon. There was something in her eyes that knew me as though she had remembered being there when she saved me from the bus. I touched my sleeve, feeling the place where her hand had grabbed my arm, reveling in the way it felt to be touched after so many years alone.
If Kenzie had only known that this would be the absolute deciding moment of the rest of her career, I was certain she would have told Max off so she could study. But that was why I was here, to watch over her when she couldn’t. Yesterday, or perhaps I mean today, I watched her dreams fall away from her. But on this day, the same day, I would watch her dreams come true. It was the most amazing thing to see, to say I watched the woman I love become the woman she always wanted, ever since she was a little girl.
I rolled the bike forward a little more and let it sit idle while I re-locked the garage. The neighbor was outside and I waved to her as she tended to her roses. She gave me a strange look of disbelief as she watched me, and I was certain it was likely that her and her friends had speculated over this particular garage, wondering if the boy who owned it ever came and what was in it.
I got back on the bike and checked my watch; it was now 1:38 and I was just in time. I revved the engine and tore down the street toward the school, grabbing my black hat out of my pocket and putting it on my head. I didn’t bother with a helmet, what was the point? I knew I wouldn’t die, and if I did get pulled over by a cop, it wasn’t very hard to change that. As far as the world knew, I did not exist. I was stuck somewhere between two places, the past and the future.
I arrived at the school and drove into the parking lot, where I idled past Kenzie’s grey Wrangler as a smile stretched across my face. I was so watchful of her that I made sure she got a decent car, not the station wagon she had been destined for. I needed to make sure she drove something safe so that I would at least have peace of mind when I wasn’t here to watch her.
I pulled into a spot near the back and parked, shutting off the rattling engine. I drew a heavy breath past my tired lips, wondering how long it had been since I last slept, feeling as though the day had gone on forever. I threw my leg off the bike and grabbed my bag from the back of the seat, hoisting it over my shoulder and walking toward her classroom.
It felt like déjà vu, as it always did, and I let the memory of this day, as it had happened previously, return to me. I knew it was careless of me to let her see me when she got out of class, but I hadn’t meant for her brute of a boyfriend to run into me like he did. It was then that I finally noticed the fact that I was sore where Max had thrown my shoulder against the locker. Luckily for me, I was able to erase that embarrassment from my life and no one would ever know that I was the wimp that got slammed by the quarterback.
It was a goal of mine to never let Kenzie see me in her rea
l life. If she ever did, it was only because I knew I was going to be going back to change it, and it would inevitably be erased from her thoughts. There was one time when she was ten, though, before I decided that letting her know about me was a bad idea. It was a quick meeting, a meeting that suggested that despite erasing time, there was still some sort of connection between us. Though we had that one stolen moment, she never remembered me. If she had, I would have changed things but at that age, it’s easy for a girl to forget you, especially as you grow into the popular and loved woman that she had become.
It hurt to stay away from her because I knew she could love me, but I also knew that I could never do that to her. I could never allow her to know who I was because the confusion would be overwhelming. Did I feel sorry for myself? No. I figured being here for her was my purpose; like a Guardian Angel. If I could at least help her have a normal life, something I was not destined to have, then that was all that mattered to me.
I looked at my watch again as her classroom came into view down the outdoor breezeway. It was convenient that her high school was set up with outdoor hallways. It made sneaking around easier as well as providing an easy get-away, an advantage I needed. I found my place by the frozen rhododendron once more, taking a deep breath. I was careful to peer around the corner in a way that wouldn’t draw attention, like it somehow had yesterday when she looked outside, as though she had felt my presence there watching her.
I smiled as I saw her auburn hair fall in a thick curtain around her as she eased her frustrated hand under her jaw. I looked at my watch, seeing that it was 1:51. Kenzie also looked at the clock on the wall, then let out a sigh and looked out the window just as she had last time. I leaned back against the wall, anticipating her every move. At times I wondered if there was a part of her that recognized me from when she was ten, but I couldn’t let myself dwell on the simple pleasure of it, knowing such things could drive a man mad.
I pulled the test from my pocket and unfolded it. I knew it was cheating, but I also knew that Kenzie was a bad test taker. It was unfair to judge her based on a score that was gathered in such a pressured, dull environment. I had seen Kenzie perform in her life as a nurse where she was often more alert and useful than the doctors themselves. She deserved this.
Taking a deep breath, I rounded the corner toward the lockers and found the Emergency Fire Alarm. For as many times as I’d pulled this, you’d think they would have thought to lock down the system. I scanned the halls one last time before lifting the clear plastic cover and pulling it without a second thought, the sirens now filling the halls and echoing off the cement structure. It was then that I casually moved back around the corner by the classroom window and waited as the screaming alarm ushered the entire school toward the football field.
Peeking through the window, I watched as a look of relief crossed Kenzie’s face and she set her pencil down. I could hear her teacher’s muffled voice through the glass, instructing them to leave the tests on the desk and that they would all be staying after to finish. I watched her rise from her chair, thankful that she would have all the time in the world to think over the answers while she stood on the field, time she would not need because I had them.
I allowed myself the pleasure of watching her move. She had a grace that was intoxicating and legs that went on for miles. Though I had loved her while she was scarred, it was hard to deny the fact of her beauty now. It was not a selfish choice to save her good looks, though a part of me felt guilty for it. I knew as a fact that beautiful people lived happier lives, why not right?
She walked like an angel toward the door, only to be met by her boyfriend and I found myself looking away as I had before. It was painful to see her with him time after time, but at one point in her life it had been something she had wished for and I couldn’t deny her that happiness. I looked down at my hands, rough from a life full of running away, ashamed by my meek looks in comparison to Max’s effortless grandeur. I pulled the hat further down my forehead and straightened my dark green army coat, justifying my image.
Once everyone had left the room, I waited for them to round the corner before diving in and picking the lock. The teacher was smart to lock the door. Ensuring in the fact that he would know nothing could have possibly been tampered with, except by me. I was quick to grab Kenzie’s test and swap it for the finished one I had brought, figuring someone would be by to check that the room was cleared. I shoved the unfinished test back in my pocket and left the room where I walked up the grassy hill and sat by a tree that overlooked the school.
While I waited, I pulled the test from my pocket and scanned her work, smirking at the doodles she’d decorated the edges with. I knew her enough to know that she would not reject the test I had given her, knew enough about her morals that she saw it as a lucky break, not breaking the rules. She always thought she was fortunate; the girl whose life happened in every way she ever wished for, and that was exactly what I wanted.
A few moments later, the students on the field broke off and began making their way back toward class. It was easy to spot Kenzie in the crowd, her hair flowing down her back and her cheerleading sweater like a bright red beacon. I stood and moved in closer, my insatiable need to see her face irrepressible.
I stood back on the path by the rhododendron, watching her from the corner of the window as she flipped over the test. At first she looked confused, flipping through the pages and then rubbing her forehead as though forgetting that she had finished it. She looked over her shoulder toward the teacher, but he seemed enthralled by something he was writing. It was then that her confusion turned to relief and I smiled with her. She flipped over the test and placed the pencil on the page, giving her boyfriend a smug look and crossing her arms against her chest.
With that, I felt content, and I knew her dream career would come true. “I love you,” I whispered. It was then that her head shot to the window, and I quickly ducked back. I let out a nervous laugh, relieved she had not seen me.
Standing there with one leg perched against the wall, a vindictive thought crossed my mind as a girl in a black sweatshirt glared at me from across the commons. She watched me as though she knew what I was up to, and I laughed to myself, wondering if this student sensed my sick desire to endure this sort of treatment again, just to feel her touch me once more.
As the bell rang I turned my attention to the classroom door, preparing myself. The already existing bruises tingled, but what I was about to do was harmless and I swore she would never see me again. I had worked hard to accomplish all I had for her, and this was my reward. I deserved it, after all.
Statement from Dr. Ashcroft,
Vincent Memorial Hospital, Boston
August 4, 2009
01:12 a.m.
Agent Donnery:
So you can remember both sides of the story because of your dreams?
Dr. Ashcroft:
Yes, some are stronger than others, but reading over the journals is jogging my memory, like reading something you wrote when you were in third grade and then placing it in a time capsule.
Agent Donnery:
Is that why my colleagues keep giving you MRI’s, to make sure it’s not damaging your brain?
Dr. Ashcroft:
I suppose, but it’s not. We have so much brain that is left unused, I guess this is why. (laughter) Besides, I guess they want to make sure I’m mentally fit to work, which I am.
Agent Donnery:
So at this point he had already changed your scars it seems. Do you remember that?
Dr. Ashcroft:
The scars are the hardest thing for me to remember because it was so long ago, but I can still feel them at times, just as I did the day of the test in my car. The dreams, too; they’re always there, reminding me of this other life I should have lived before Jordan’s web of Shifts was created.
When Jordan said he had let me see him only once, he means the day when he came to save me from the scars. (pause) I remember it all the time, always w
ondering what had happened to that boy from the bus in elementary school. He came out of nowhere and disappeared just as fast. It haunted me for years, just wondering how and why it seemed to connect.
You have to understand that Jordan did not live a normal life from beginning to end. He was all over it, so to speak. Shifting from one place to the next, forgetting time altogether. Maybe one day he’d see himself at eighty, the next at five. Either way, he was able to carry the memories with him, along with certain belongings like his bag and the green coat and black hat, the one thing that eventually drew me toward him. In my dreams, I recognized the things he was wearing and it struck a chord. (laughter) It was as though he was living in a playground, but we were the toys.
Agent Donnery:
I see. (pause) So tell me about the scars, then. How did he solve that?
Dr. Ashcroft:
Well, I’ll tell you from my angle, what I remember versus what he wrote here. It’s the next entry.
Told by Dr. Ashcroft,
Stories from the journals of Patient #32185
November 12th, 1994
07:13 a.m.