Past Present Future

by Alexander, N J.

  Once again, my screen was full of results.

  After opening and closing several sites, I finally settled on one that looked quite straight forward and to the point. I studied the image on the screen. It was coming back to me that the fish was the Christian symbol, along with the cross or crucifix. But it was also known as IXOUS, which was Greek for fish; ichtus was an alternative spelling for the same thing.

  But I wondered why I didn’t see my drawing as a fish straight away. I glanced back at the drawing on my paper on the desk, next to the keyboard, and then I looked back at the screen. My fish was facing the right, but almost every one I’d clicked on so far were facing the left – they were effectively swimming in the opposite direction to my fish. Perhaps if I’d drawn it the other way round, I would have seen it as a fish – who knows?

  I scrolled through some more articles all about the origins of the fish in Christianity. I read about the fish symbol pre-dating the cross, although one article spoke about the cross forming part of the fish’s tail. I looked at the fish image again, and could see clearly what the writer of the article had meant.

  I then read that each letter in IXOUS formed the first letter of a Greek word which translated to: Jesus Christ God Our Saviour. But it was the second letter I was taken with, the “X”, which was the first letter of the word meaning “Christ”, but alone that letter was Chi, the twenty-second letter of the Greek alphabet pronounced “chee”. I stared at the Chi or X, long and hard, because it was strange that “Chi” was also linked to the Chinese philosophy of circulating life energy, inherent in all things, and what is an eight if it is not a continuous circulating path? Even the Yin Yang symbol looks like two fish. I wondered if this was merely coincidental or evidence that of one belief drawing inspiration from another over time.

  Then I read about the miracle in the Bible connected to fish; the loaves and the fish story.

  Suddenly I thought about my fish swimming in the opposite direction again. But then I’d drawn mine with my left hand and the left is supposed to be the sign of the Devil, just like the left shoulder was the Devil or Fallen Angel. That’s why they used to chop the hand off left-handed people in the past.

  Eventually, I managed to find an article discussing the relevance of the direction of the Christian fish: my fish was swimming away from evil to the righteousness.

  So that was good, wasn’t it? But then I was interrupted by the phone; this time it was Richard calling me.

  ‘Just checking you are okay. Maddy said you’re drawing fish now.’ I was starting to feel that they’d got me under close surveillance.

  ‘Look, I’m fine. I did draw a fish earlier. I closed my eyes, blanked my mind, drew a fish…well an incomplete eight that looks like a fish, but they’re linked anyway. I’m busy looking up what it all means now,’ I said, knowing that it sounded completely bonkers. ‘The fish is the Christian symbol. But did you know how Jesus is spelt in Greek?’ I said enthusiastically.

  ‘No…bu—’

  ‘Well it’s IOTA, ETA, SIGMA, OMIGON, UPSILON, SIGMA and added together, numerically they equal 888. The value of the first letter is ten, the second is eight, the third is two-hundred, the fourth is seventy, fifth is four-hundred and the last one, sigma, again is two-hundred. Those numbers, added together make 888,’ I continued, as I made my way through the notes, which were thicker than my study notes for the day.

  ‘It’s a bit like the Devil being known as 666; Jesus in Greek, using the Gematria system converts to 888. And guess what – we passed through 08/08/08 this year – the day before my birthday and it only comes around once every century. It won’t happen again until year 2108,’ I said, but I was also slightly aware that I’d probably blown Richard’s head with too much information. Even for someone with a brain like Richard’s, it was a bit much over a telephone when you’re not expecting it. It was the sort of thing better presented in a full indexed report which could be digested before opening it up for discussion.

  ‘Er…yes, that’s all very interesting, but why on earth are you interested in it. What is going on in your head?’

  ‘Well eight is…an important number this year, that’s all. The Chinese are quite hot on number eight, supposed to be lucky. Did you know that the Bible is supposed to be encrypted with numerical codes as well? There are tons of articles about it on the Internet.’ Well saved, I thought.

  ‘No, I don’t really know much about numerical codes in the Bible. Talking of numbers – you have noticed the time haven’t you? You need to leave in a minute to get William and Elyse. Don’t get carried away with what you’re doing and forget them will you?’

  ‘Of course I’m aware of the time,’ I lied, having only just glanced at the clock on the computer screen. ‘But, anyway, the Bible is crawling with numbers. 111 is supposed to be something to do with Jesus too, as in 111 multiplied by eight is 888, the whole thing is fascinating. Numbers aren’t just numbers they all have meanings. Number eight is the resurrection and transfiguration.’

  ‘So…what are you saying, that 888 means Jesus is returning this year?’ he said, laughing at me.

  ‘How the hell should I know, I’m not the Pope? I’m just telling you about the stuff I’m reading. It’s interesting that’s all. Oh…and did you know that we are supposed to be moving into the Age of Aquarius, which is the sign for water.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘The changeover is supposed to happen every 2150 years. The problem is no one seems to know the start date for the Age of Pisces, which means that they can’t calculate the precise date when the 2150 years is up for Aquarius to then take over. There are all sorts of online debates about it. But, basically it’s the end of one era, the fish and the beginning of new era – water. Aquarius is supposed to be the coming together of science and religion. But even that all ties in with the importance of number eight; if eight is supposed to signify the beginning of new era or new order. The whole lot makes sense in a wacky kind of way, if you believe in all that stuff. By the way, William’s an Aquarius.’

  ‘If you say so, look you’d better go. I’ll see you later…love you.’

  ‘Love you too.’ I placed the phone back on charge, let Mick-The-Cleaner know I was off to do the school run, while quickly plonking the pocket dictionary on the garden room table with all of my papers and textbooks; for some strange reason it had been left open on the kitchen table, with the front cover and back page being the visible part. I’d picked it a few seconds earlier to see which page it had been left open on. It had been the one with words beginning with “qua”. I knew this couldn’t have been anything to do with Mick-The-Cleaner, because he was always careful not to move things around, or if he did he would fold them or place them with precision. Richard regularly went berserk that he was paying to have his loose change stacked in neat piles. So if Mick had picked it up off the floor or something, he would have left it closed, not open – surely?

  I did take a quick scan down the pages to see if there was anything Richard could have been looking up. But nothing on the page struck me as anything he wouldn’t already know or be remotely interested in. William had his own dictionary with pictures in, and Elyse couldn’t read yet. With all the other stuff buzzing around my head, I hadn’t got headspace or time to give the dictionary any more thought.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I walked into the dark club around 23:00 and TheRocX still had half an hour to go. I worked my way to the front and watched him. The place wasn’t that busy. The band obviously performed to a slightly older audience and light rock had never really been my thing. I admired the fact that he could sing, in fact I admired anyone who could sing, but it was his speaking voice that really got me.

  I felt good in a gold, shimmery dress, which complimented the golden highlights in my hair.

  The dress finished above my knee; short enough to show off my toned tanned thighs, but not short enough to be considered tarty. It exposed my arms and dropped at the back; the fabric was so fine and delicate,
I was afraid it would tear if I caught it with my nails.

  After the last song, I rushed backstage to find him; he was still in a corridor and my eyes locked onto him. For a second he had a look of confusion, then a wide grin made its way across his face. He said something to his band mate then walked towards me, hugged me, then wiped my hair from my face, before kissing me with the longest, most delicious kiss I’d ever experienced.

  The whole thing happened so quickly I hadn’t seen it coming. His skin tasted salty with perspiration. I then spent the next eight hours in a place that could only be described as my own heaven on earth.

  I slept blissfully, re-living the whole experience, once again feeling his damp skin against mine, it was intoxicating like fresh blood being injected into my veins, seamless and un-spoken, mad but complete. It was like finding a home for my soul. I rolled onto my other side and stretched my arm towards him, ready to snuggle into his body. I patted the bed to find him. Why couldn’t I reach him? I opened my eyes. He was no longer there. There was a folded note on the pillow, my eyes scanned the room –his clothes had gone, his jeans and boxers were no longer on the floor, or his navy shirt thrown over the TV – all evidence of him had gone and the room was silent. I opened the note, which had been written on the hotel’s stationery.

  The writing looked hurried:

  Thank you for last night, it was special, and great to see you again after all these years. But sorry I have to go, I’m meeting my girlfriend this morning. Take care. X.

  My heart sank; I read it a second time.

  I felt used and conveniently disposed of.

  I tore it into tiny pieces and threw them to the bottom of the bed. The tiny squares floated down onto the white sheets and floor like confetti. I stepped from the bed, feeling the cold against my naked body. I grabbed my clutch bag, which I’d bought especially for the occasion, and jumped back in the bed pulling the sheets around me. I switched on my mobile to call Richard, but the phone repeatedly beeped to alert me to recent text messages. I opened them up sequentially.

  Where the fuck are you? I saw Maddy in the supermarket earlier. Clearly she’s not in London with you. So who the fuck are you with? And incidentally…you might want to take a look at a few other messages sent to my phone last night.

  As with all Richard’s text messages, it had been carefully typed in full. I started to shake, and my head felt as though it had been hit with a brick, I was trying to think through thick fog and my heart was pounding in my ears. I opened up the other five messages starting with one from Maddy, that had slipped in before Richard had managed to forward the other messages onto me.

  Sorry didn’t know what 2 say 2 Richard. Pretended not 2 know anything call u l8r X

  I stared at the eight in the middle of her abbreviated “later”, then I read the next four messages, I could feel bile rising:

  Cuckold

  Cuckold

  Cuckold

  Getting the message? Courtesan finally showing her true colours is she?

  Tears streamed down my face, I’d made a mistake, a big mistake and who the hell was sending the text messages? Who was watching me? The messages scared me, but at that moment the fear of Richard’s reaction gripped me far more. I’d betrayed him and there was no going back. I closed the last text message, wiped my eyes on the bed sheet, leaving traces of mascara, and then selected Richard’s number. He picked up, his familiar voice was icy.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I said and I tried again. ‘I’m sorry,’ but no sound would come out. ‘Sorry, sorry, sorry,’ I said repeatedly, but still no sound; he still couldn’t hear me. I started thrashing around the bed, and then the sound of my own voice echoed back in my ears as I yelled out:

  ‘sorry,’ and my eyes opened.

  I had broken through the dream.

  My pillow was damp from tears, and Richard’s side of the bed was empty, he had obviously taken Blue for his normal morning walk. Relief washed over me, but the nightmare haunted me for the rest of the day. I knew any expert would say that it was my conscience playing out my longings, my guilt and my fears all neatly wrapped into one scene.

  At around 16:15 William and Elyse jumped out of the car, flinging the doors wide open, and stood impatiently at the front door, while I loaded myself up with all their things. I got William to take the keys I’d gripped between my teeth, so he could open up. Blue came racing through it to greet us, then, as usual, he ran straight to his dinner bowl.

  I tipped the beaker of dried food into his bowl, which made the usual loud clatter against the metal, busied myself cleaning out congealed yoghurt, and crusts from the lunch boxes, pulled out of the school bags what seemed like a dozen party invites. I pinned them on the fridge door with magnets; I intended to deal with them properly the next day, which meant, like usual, they’d be dealt with twenty-four hours before the deadline. Then I successfully negotiated my way through William’s union-repre-sentative skills on reasons why he thought he shouldn’t be doing homework at my command, and by 17:03 I was back at the study PC; and back on Facebook.

  Despite my nightmare, I still desperately wanted to speak to Anthony Hope – communicating with him was a million miles away from hopping into bed with him. And he was clearly at the root of all the madness. But, as yet, I was still not one hundred per cent certain he was even communicating with me at all; I just had to know, and I had a plan.

  I pulled up the photo of me and Sophie at our graduation; the one that I accidentally left the Botox comment on a few months back, and I typed in a message at the bottom of it, as though it was for Sophie, but really I had aimed it at Anthony Hope. There was method behind my madness, even though the message was loopy…

  Currently wrapped up in my own Wonderland and thought about you writing your dissertation on Lewis Carroll – wished I read it now.

  Having really strange experiences at the moment for one with an open mind and no particular religious views I’m finding myself trying to reach the shoulder tapper.

  Closed my eyes let the pen draw…opened my eyes and result looked like no. 8 incomplete, or a fish symbol.

  Even Mad Maddy is starting to think I’m crazy but there are too many coincidences.

  At 17:08 I suddenly remembered what had provoked the Botox comment in the first place and typed in another message below it…

  Just a minor correction…I am a fraction under 5ft 3! Not 5ft 2!!

  Now Sophie was going to think I was barking, so I blocked her from viewing the photo.

  In fact, the only people who could now see this photo was Anthony Hope and me; this message was intended for his eyes only.

  It was a whole day later that he spotted it, or rather he responded to it. At around 17:00 I logged into Facebook. I’d snuck into the study as a means of escaping the head pounding I was getting from William and Elyse since they’d got back from school in unrelenting, demanding moods. At the top of my screen were Fan pages I’d added earlier in the day: Nell Gwyn, Peace, Ichtus Festival, and Eight to Infinity. I added them knowing that the additions would also filter through to Anthony’s Newsfeed, or he would spot them when he viewed my page.

  Within in a few minutes of me logging on Anthony had posted his Status Update:

  17:06 Anthony’s favourite Lewis Carroll quote: Everything’s got a moral…if only you can find it.

  I read and re-read his words.

  And after opening and closing my eyes, a Lewis Carroll quote was still sitting at the very top of my screen. I was finally proven right.

  The fact it had appeared only a matter of hours since I’d made reference to Lewis Carroll meant this couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. It was as likely as a Charles Dickens’s quote popping up on N-Yo’s blog if I’d left a quote for him lying around. So clearly Anthony had chosen this quote in response to my words on Sophie’s photo. At least that part of my head wasn’t going crazy. I’d finally driven him out of his hiding place with words. But why had he gone for that quote in particular? What did he mean?
/>   ‘Can I have some cereal, Mummy?’ William entered the study with his Nintendo DS in his hand, then tripped over Elyse’s doll’s pushchair and skidded on one of the books scattered across the floor. He looked bewildered for a second but straightened himself back up.

  ‘No I’ve told you, your food is cooking. Get some milk. That will take the edge of your appetite,’ I said firmly, after I’d make sure he hadn’t injured himself.

  ‘I don’t want milk. I’m hungry.’

  ‘Well it’s milk or nothing until dinner,’ and Elyse entered the room with her Barbie.

  ‘Mummy, can you put Barbie’s shoes on, they keep falling off,’ I took the doll off Elyse, and as I did so Anthony’s Status disappeared from my screen.

  I dropped the doll on the desk and scrolled all the way down my screen. Where had it gone? I kept scrolling. Nothing. Not only had that Status vanished from my screen, all of his old Status Updates had gone.

  He was gone. I couldn’t find him.

  Everything’s got a moral…if only you can find it. Find it? Where was he?

  My heart was thumping. Had he just deleted me from Facebook?

  But why would he delete me now? It didn’t make sense. He’d finally revealed his hand, only to disappear. Why would he be watching me closely if he wasn’t interested in me? If he wasn’t interested in me, I would be invisible to him. This game required two willing participants.

  ‘Mummy, my dolls shoes…now.’

  ‘Elyse just shut it a minute,’ I snapped, as my fingers trembled over my keyboard, my eyes being dazzled by the shocking pink nail-varnish that Elyse had put on me a few days earlier. ‘Oh God…I can’t lose him…not now.’ Suddenly the guilt of my nightmare was forgotten, or was this another nightmare? I scrolled down my list of friends. He was still there. His tiny photo was still sitting there. But my trembling continued. He must have done something with his privacy settings, blocked me from viewing his Status Updates or something. My face had flushed with panic, my cheeks were like a furnace and I ran my hands through my hair several times, as though that would help.