I glanced at the adult Melissa. Her face was now buried in the front section of the Washington Post. She turned the page, and I could see she was reading a story about a toxic waste dump. Still the same Melissa, eager to make the world a better place.
We got to the last page of the album. Melissa stood on a stage, receiving a certificate from a smiling man in a gray suit. I squinted at the picture. The award seemed to be for community service. Melissa’s face was proud and confident, her eyes bright as jewels.
Mrs. Argent’s nose wrinkled. “Oh, dear; I think the cookies are burning. I’ll be right back.” She rose gracefully, moving purposefully but without haste toward the kitchen.
“Excuse me,” Melissa said as she also rose from her seat.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded as she climbed the staircase. “I’m just going to the bathroom.”
A door slammed at the rear of the house, and then came the clink of metal passing by the front. Mr. Argent was out walking the dog again. Suddenly the house was quiet. I hefted the album and flipped through the pages, images passing before my eyes like an old newsreel. My future wife’s life, frozen in the artificial and faded colors of old processing. The Melissa in these pictures was only a shadow of the original – a pale reflection of a vivid flesh-and-blood person.
What would it have been like to have known her then? To see her first baby steps or her first dance recital with my own eyes instead of the camera’s? Ever since I met her that night at Kate’s party, I’d wanted to know everything about her. She was a novel whose plot became more interesting as I delved deeper into the book. But my book had its first thirty chapters torn out, with only stories and a few illustrations to fill in the details.
Stephon had asked me that very day what my fantasy with Melissa was. I wasn’t sure then, but now it was incredibly clear to me. In my mind’s eye, I would be an invisible observer watching her grow. From my imaginary vantage point, I would see her giggle as she played in a sandbox. I would see her brow furrow with determination as she mounted her first bicycle. I would experience her past with her and by doing so know her as completely as I possibly could. I couldn’t imagine a more fulfilling fantasy.
Melissa came back downstairs and slumped in her chair. Waitresses after a double shift looked less exhausted than she did.
“Are you feeling all right?”
“I think I ate something that didn’t agree with me. My mother must have roasted the potatoes in the same pan as the meat again. She always forgets.”
“Next time we’ll bring some of that soy beef. You always tell me it tastes just like real meat. I’d love to see if your father could spot the difference. If he did, he’d probably grab one of his rifles and hunt rabbit in the suburbs until he came home with a real meal.”
She laughed slightly. Her face looked freshly damp, as did the fringes of dark hair over her forehead. I put down the photo album.
“Hey, you’re not embarrassed about looking at these pictures, are you?”
“I don’t know why we always have to look at pictures. They belong to the past and they all look the same after a while. I wish sometimes we could just play cards or Scrabble. Or just all sit down in the living room after dinner and talk. That’s what other human beings do.”
Moments passed while I tried to understand where this was coming from. “What are you talking about? You always enjoy looking at pictures. I’m the one who thinks those travel shots are excruciating.” A clatter came from the kitchen, and I lowered my voice. “Now you’re complaining? I was actually having fun with this for the first time in months.”
I didn’t lose my temper with Melissa often, and my annoyance shocked her. She thought a moment, then tried to smile. “It’s okay, Ken. If it makes you happy looking at my baby pictures, go ahead. I’ll even make baby faces if you want.” She stuck out her tongue and I tossed a pillow at her.
Mrs. Argent returned and walked over to the bookcase again. She lifted a manila envelope lying on the middle shelf and held it aloft like a trophy. “I forgot to mention I also found this behind the chimney, dear. High school photos of you on the tennis team. She was a good player, Ken.”
“I’ve seen her play.” She’d beaten me on the court a few times.
“There are also a few pictures of Melissa taking piano lessons. I thought you might like to see them as well.”
Melissa took piano lessons? If they were anything like my saxophone lessons in junior high, there was little wonder why she’d never mentioned it.
“Absolutely,” I said. “Melissa was just telling me how happy she is to relive these memories.” I turned to her and winked. She had turned pale.
“I don’t know how these photos ended up behind the chimney as well,” her mother said. “Melissa, I thought I gave them to you to put in an album. But you never lose anything, so it must have been those roofers again. It’s a good thing they did a better job with the roof than they did preserving our family treasures.” Suddenly Mrs. Argent stopped and looked at her daughter, concerned. “What’s the matter, honey?”
This made me look as well. Melissa was rubbing her temples.
“I have a headache, Mom. Maybe it was something I ate, or all the pollen in the air, but it’s a really bad one. Ken, I think we should go home. I feel like I need to lay down.”
I stood up. “Yeah, of course. Mrs. Argent, can we borrow those pictures? We’ll bring them back next time we’re over.”
“Of course you can.” She neatly secured the clip on the back of the envelope and handed it to me.
Melissa rose and took the envelope from my hand, tossing it on the couch. “Actually, I think we better leave them here. They were lost once already, and I wouldn’t want that to happen again.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but Melissa was already headed for the door. Mrs. Argent and I shared confused looks. Melissa obviously had a hell of a headache.
“Don’t you want to say goodbye to your father?” Mrs. Argent said reprovingly.
“He’s not back from his walk, Mom. Just tell him goodbye for me.”
As we walked out the door, Wolfgang led Mr. Argent up the front walk. The dog sniffed at us and squatted on the concrete. I made sure to pet him.
“You’re leaving in a hurry,” Mr. Argent said calmly, the sweet scent of his pipe tobacco mingling with the smell of newborn leaves. His face remained immobile, but his eyes aimed at Melissa and then at me.
“Melissa isn’t feeling well, Mr. Argent. I’m going to take her home.”
“Hmmm.” Mr. Argent puffed his pipe. He paused and tilted his cheek, waiting for a kiss. Instead Melissa brushed past him. I could see her father’s eyes tracking us as we walked to the car.
Once we’d driven away from the house, Melissa seemed to relax a little. “Feeling better?” I said.
“My head still hurts. I’ll be okay.”
“Chamomile and a neck massage?”
She leaned back on the headrest. “That would be great.”
“You’re on.” We drove a short while in silence. “Hey, what was the deal with those pictures tonight? Why didn’t you want to take them with us?”
“I just didn’t want to misplace them. They’ve been lost all these years. With everything going on with the wedding and all, they could wind up in some file that we’ll never open again. I’m not sure my mother could survive that.”
I chuckled. “Yeah, you’re probably right. We’ll look at them the next time we’re over there.”
“Mmm, can’t wait,” Melissa said, rubbing her temples again.
I reached out and gently massaged her shoulder. “We can skip the chamomile if you want.”
Chapter 5
Diminished By Not Being With Her
I had a curious feeling when I walked into Stephon’s a couple of days later. This wasn’t surprising, since Stephon’s was a
curious place, but that wasn’t the source of the strangeness I sensed. Instead, it was the incongruous fact that I had a response to Stephon’s even more incongruous request: to return with my greatest fantasy for Melissa. If I could remake the laws of physics, if I could wrinkle the fabric of time, I knew exactly what I would do with such power.
Of course, there were no customers in the store. Stephon always dressed well, if casually, and he had a fortune of jewelry in this small space. He had to get his money from somewhere. Was the store a front for some illegal operation? Did he think it was funny that I actually came here to shop?
Stephon offered me a friendly nod when I came in. “Good to see you again, Mr. Timian.”
“Thank you, Stephon. As promised.”
“As promised.”
“Do you have something fabulous for me?”
He smiled as broadly as his narrow face allowed. “I very well might.”
I smiled as well, getting a little excited about what was to come. “That’s great. Let me see what you were able to find.”
Stephon turned and walked toward the back room. Just before he entered the doorway, though, he stopped and faced me again. “I had a request of you, didn’t I?”
In some ways, I had hoped that he had forgotten. I wasn’t sure I could say what I was thinking out loud. “You did, yes.”
“A fantasy for you and your fiancée.”
“That was what you requested.”
“And did you think of one?”
I suddenly felt very uncomfortable. This seemed like such an intimate thing to share with someone I barely knew. “Is this really necessary?”
Stephon’s shoulders relaxed and he tilted his head to the side. He walked back toward the counter. “Of course it isn’t. If you haven’t come up with something or if you’d rather not tell me about it, I understand. It’s just a little question I ask from time to time when I see things in certain people. I thought it might enhance this whole transaction for you.”
Why that didn’t sound incredibly creepy to me, I don’t know. The entire experience had become fairly surreal. Just to make things a little more Dali-esque, I suddenly found myself wanting to share this with my jeweler. My eyes landed on a silver phoenix brooch where a golden elephant had been two days before. I shook my head briskly and then looked up at Stephon.
“This is probably going to sound ridiculous to you,” I said.
“I think that’s very unlikely.”
“It’s pretty outlandish.”
He nodded.
“My fantasy is to be able to go back to the beginning of Melissa’s life and watch her become the person she is today.”
“You mean travel back in time?”
“I guess, but not really that. I don’t want to be an orderly in the nursery or her third grade teacher or anything like that. I’d just like to be able to see her. Like in a home movie, but in three dimensions and with all five senses.”
Stephon nodded more broadly now.
“It’s pretty silly, huh?” I said.
“Oh no, I don’t think so at all. Why do you want this?”
I looked up at the ceiling and then around the room. “I don’t know. I just feel like I missed out, you know? I mean I have never even come close to feeling about another person what I feel about Melissa, and when I looked at her baby pictures the other night, I just got the strongest sense that I’ve been, I don’t know, diminished by not being with her for her first thirty years. I really want to hear the first words she spoke as a baby. I want to see her having a tea party with her dolls. You asked me to come up with a fantasy and then only a few hours later, this popped into my head. Now that it has, I can’t get it out.”
“That’s a very good fantasy, Mr. Timian.”
“Not that I can do anything about it.”
Stephon shrugged.
“What was that?” I said.
“What was what?”
“That little gesture. Why’d you do that?”
Stephon held my gaze firmly. I truly don’t think I could have looked away. “Sometimes,” he said, “the impossible isn’t entirely impossible.”
That was when the experience became creepy for me. “I think I’d like that piece of jewelry now, if you don’t mind.”
Stephon shrugged again. “It’s in the back room; let me go get it.”
He turned away.
“Wait,” I said with more force than I intended. “You aren’t suggesting that you could…fulfill this fantasy, are you?”
“That depends on how much you want it. Though I think I’ve already determined that.”
I was like Alice in the Lewis Carroll novel. Like Neo in “The Matrix.” There was absolutely no chance I could walk away from this. “You have a time machine?” I said, trying to sound skeptical.
Stephon chuckled. “It isn’t a time machine.”
That wasn’t the response I expected. “What are we talking about here?”
He looked at his hands and then for some reason glanced toward the front door. “This comes as much from you as it does from me, but if you really want this fantasy – and I see that you do – I can help make it happen.”
My fingertips went numb. I was either having a heart attack or I’d just stepped into a parallel universe. “You can send me back into Melissa’s past?”
“In a manner of speaking. I can give you the opportunity to observe the life of your Melissa. She would not know you were there and of course you couldn’t touch her or anything else.”
“That makes sense,” I said, the remaining rational part of my mind mocking me for such a ridiculous comment. “Do I have to eat or drink anything? I’m not putting any controlled substances into my body.”
“There is nothing hallucinogenic about this. I merely have the ability to help send you on this little excursion. It’s really that simple. It is your choice whether you want to do this or not.”
A screaming ambulance siren drew my gaze to the window. It jarred me, and I appreciated that. On the other side of the door was a world of rules that clearly stated the impossibility of what Stephon was offering. I stopped believing in Santa Claus when I was seven. I knew my mother was the “Tooth Fairy” right off the bat. And I certainly didn’t believe in magic. Yet this little suggestion from Stephon was so seductive – and it seemed so real.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized how much I really wanted it. If there was a chance that I could experience Melissa in this way, then I would have to try.
“Okay, Stephon, if you can do this – I can’t believe I’m saying this – I would really like to take you up on it. How much will this cost me? Before you answer, remember that even though I’m an attorney, I still have a wedding and a honeymoon to pay for.”
He seemed truly offended by this question. “I sell jewelry and antiques, Mr. Timian. The service I offer you now is priceless. Therefore I charge no price for it.”
“And there are no strings attached?”
He laughed. “You mean like selling me your soul or promising me your first born or something like that? No, no strings. Sometimes a favor is really just a favor.”
And I thought the cappuccino had been a big deal. Stephon definitely knew something about fostering customer loyalty.
I smiled. “So what do I have to do?”
“Nothing. The process is not mechanical in nature. I will take care of everything. You will suddenly find yourself in another place. Again, no one will hear or see you, nor can you touch anyone or anything. I must warn you that what you see can be very informative or amusing, but also very disconcerting. How we imagine the past always differs from the actual history, just as our memories of our own pasts distort over time. You must always remember that you are an observer. You can neither cause nor influence events.”
“I understand.” Actually, I didn�
��t. Why was he giving me such a lengthy disclaimer? Did he know something that he wasn’t admitting?
I suddenly felt a little weird about this. Exactly what was I going to see? I didn’t want to be some kind of peeping Tom with Melissa. Would I see her make out with her first boyfriend or take her first lover? How would I feel about that? How would she feel about that if she knew?
“Your heart isn’t going to let you see anything it doesn’t believe you should,” Stephon said. I know I hadn’t expressed any of my concerns out loud. If he meant to reassure me with that statement, he did not succeed.
I made eye contact with him. “This is a good idea?” I said.
“It’s a good idea if you think it’s a good idea.”
I closed my eyes and tried to determine how I really felt about this exercise. It was harmless, right? I wasn’t being a peeping Tom, I was being an admirer. This was like a Wednesday evening with the Argents only in 3D and with Dolby audio.
“Okay, let’s do it. When can we set this up?”
“Right now, if you’d like.”
“Right now?”
“Or not, if that makes you uncomfortable.”
I was way past uncomfortable, but that wasn’t the point. “No, right now would be good.”
“If you have any questions upon your return, I will attempt to answer them.”
“Oh, you mean really right now.”
Stephon held up his hands as though to say, “Your call.”
I shook my head briskly. “Yes, right now. Let’s do it.”
I expected Stephon to wave a wand or press a button or at least throw some fairy dust in the air. Instead, he simply stood there as a white fog shrouded me. The last thing I saw were his coal-black eyes.
Chapter 6
Uncharted Waters
I knew where I was.
It was different from Wednesday night. The familiar maroon tiles were gone, replaced by white linoleum etched with golden hexagons. White walls loomed over a black stove instead of yellow walls enclosing a white stove. The refrigerator changed from big and white to small and avocado green. Even the technology was different, like things from an old spinster’s garage sale. The microwave and coffeemaker on the counter were replaced by a simple toaster oven and a transistor radio with an old-fashioned tuning dial. Where tall glass jars filled with pasta and rice once stood under the window, there were orange jars of Tang and pink cans of Tab. Overhead were fluorescent rods that reminded me of Darth Vader’s lightsaber, though Vader himself was still a few years away.
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