[2013] Life II

by Scott Spotson

  A young girl with pale blonde hair ran out to the car.

  “Max! Max!!”

  Max squinted. It was Jenny, looking much older, carrying a one-year-old baby as she stepped out of the front door. Jenny had gained a bit of weight, her face was much fuller, and her long, flowing hair was tucked back in a bun. Max barely recognized her.

  Jenny’s three-year-old girl grabbed Max by the leg as he stepped out. “Uncle Max! Uncle Max!” she shrieked in a small child’s voice.

  Still holding onto the baby, Jenny hugged Max with the other arm.

  “Long time no see, bro.”

  It had been a long time. Seven years of short and banal “how are ya” exchanges with Jenny at family holidays in Vancouver, but no major down time like the one he’d finally been able to tear off—ten whole days—from his schedule.

  “I missed you, Jenny. You look, uh, great.” He lied about the last part.

  Pamela stood by Max expectantly. “Jenny,” he said, “this is my wife, Pamela.”

  Jenny extended her hand. “How goes married life?”

  Max and Pamela glanced at each other. “It’s going,” Max chuckled.

  “No children yet?”

  “Oh heavens, not yet!” Pamela exclaimed. “I’ve been trying to convince Max. Maybe after he sees your children, he’ll change his mind.”

  “We agreed to wait until I finished medical school,” Max pointed out. He didn’t want to admit he just wasn’t ready to take the risk of “replacing” Angela and Brandon, if it came to that.

  Max gazed at Jenny and her children. He peered around the tiny yard. “Where’s Len?”

  “Still at the garage. Should be home by six.”

  After the pleasantries were over, Jenny ushered them into the house. Instantly Max felt sad. This, in his mind, was a repetition of the first time he’d visited Jenny, surrounded by children. Although Max’s new life seemed to have affected many people, change had eluded Jenny. She was in the exact same house.

  The exact same neighborhood.

  Stuck in the exact same life.

  Yes, he finally got to stay with his sister—but at the same time Max felt a deep melancholy about how his own family had split. Things just weren’t the same. He felt nostalgic—and disconnected. It was like going to a boisterous summer camp that you’d attended as a child, but coming back in the off-season when it was deserted and the grass was uncut.

  As Jenny led them through the house, Max’s disconnection became even more ramped up. He glanced at the kitchen wall and realized that—in the exact same spot as in Life I—there was a hole in the drywall caused by the children’s play.

  The same crumbling plaster.

  The same rip in the wallpaper, in exactly the same spot.

  The gold, red, and white pattern on the tablecloth on the kitchen table was the same, too.

  And the cheap thriftstore vase with the fake flowers.

  Same. Damn. Thing.

  “What a lovely place!” declared Pamela.

  “Thanks,” Jenny said as the baby started to cry. “Shush, shush.” She hugged the baby. “Oh Pamela, this is Emily. Named after our grandmother.”

  “And,” she nodded toward the three-year-old racing around the house, “This is Sarah. She’s almost four.”

  “You have beautiful children,” Pamela said warmly.

  “Thanks. Here, Max,” Jenny said, handing him Emily, who was still screaming, “You comfort her. I’ll take your suitcase upstairs.”

  Max had long forgotten what it was like to hold a baby. How many years had it been now? He winced at the headache of memories that flooded back at him of his fatherhood in Life I. Images of Angela’s birth, and being the first person on Earth to hold this squirming, gurgling newborn miracle of life in his arms. Bopping down to the neighborhood ballpark with Brandon, at the start of every Little League season. Boy Scout meetings with Brandon. Angela in bed complaining of a sore throat. Both kids digging for buried treasure in the back yard that last summer, and—

  “You look like a perfect father.” Pamela stepped back to observe him. The baby cried out again. “Now, now,” Pamela soothed the baby, “Let me take you.” She gently transferred the baby from Max to herself.

  Max wiped sweat beads off of his forehead and sighed. The action didn’t go unnoticed by his sister.

  “Sorry, we don’t have central air conditioning,” Jenny explained. Then she added, “Hey, did you both bring your bathing suits?”

  “Always,” Pamela piped in.

  “I know this terrific swimming hole just outside town. Len has the car at work, but you could drive us all there.”

  Max hesitated. He was still thinking about Brandon and Angela digging up the back yard, and wearing a lost look on his face. Pamela noticed this, and took his hand, clutching it gently in hers. “Let’s go,” she smiled to Jenny.

  The five of them headed out to the swimming hole. “It’s an abandoned limestone quarry,” Jenny explained. “It’s perfect for cliff diving and the rope swing. You’ll love it.”

  By the time they arrived, Max’s head was no longer throbbing, and he’d gotten ahold of himself. The water was icy cold but refreshing. Upon immersing himself into the water, Max felt more alive than at any point in the past several months.

  No medical notes to cram into my memory, he thought.

  No bitching about dreary hours spent at the hospital, with chaos after chaos, not even five minutes for a damn cup of coffee.

  No thinking about Life I versus Life II and the implications of my past versus my future.

  He was in his own world.

  Pamela and Jenny were chatting as if they were newfound best friends. Sarah waded into the shallow area, splashing water around, wearing inflated swim pads. Jenny held on to her baby, dipping her into the water from time to time. Pamela splashed over to Max and gave him a fierce hug and a kiss. “Are you having fun?”

  “Boy, am I ever!” yelled Max, as he swung off the rope, and sailed off with a loud splash into the deep end of the swimming hole.

  Pamela and Jenny laughed. They yelled at him, daring him to do a flip off the cliff. He hesitated, then did just that. Pamela also climbed up and did the rope and the cliff.

  “Whoa!” Max bellowed, watching Pamela’s gorgeous body as she dove off the edge of the cliff. It was the single best day he’d had ever since day one of medical school. It was pure fun, the kind that suddenly pops up and grabs you, like you’re a kid all over again and time stands still. For once.

  Hours passed. Max didn’t even notice the passage of time until he suddenly observed that the sun was halfway down the sky.

  “Time to go,” Jenny hollered. “Len’s probably at home waiting for us.”

  They found Len in his next-door neighbor’s backyard, drinking a cold beer. There were about six or seven other young adults there, as well as five children, all squeezed together in a tiny backyard. Children were horsing around in a wading pool. Two infants were completely naked.

  Jenny snuck up behind Len, and kissed him on the lips. “Max and Pamela are here.”

  Len smiled. “Hey Max, how ‘bout a beer?”

  “No thanks, I don’t drink beer much.”

  “I do!” Pamela said heartily.

  Len gave Pamela a kiss on her cheek, and grabbed her subtly in a manner that Max wasn’t comfortable with. He watched Pamela joke and laugh her way around.

  She’s home here, and I’m not. Max felt blood rush into his face. Shit, maybe Pamela deserves someone other than me. I don’t want her to have the same resentment as I had toward Abby. And I sure as hell don’t want to disappoint Pamela. Life II’s about fixing my mistakes, not reliving them.

  As if reading Max’s thoughts, Pamela walked over and pecked a kiss on his cheek, holding a beer in one hand. “Having a good time?”

  “Yeah,” Max lied.

  “That guy over there,” Pamela pointed to a young man wearing a backwards baseball cap, “—is studying to be a vet. Maybe you should g
o talk to him.”

  “Uh, yeah,” Max said, as if in a daze. He turned to Pamela. She was already walking away, having been summoned by another guest. Even amidst the bustle, Max felt lonely.

  Jenny walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. “Hey, big bro. How are you?”

  “Uh, you know. I’m okay.”

  Jenny stared at Max meaningfully. “I hear you’re doing well at medical school. Having a doctor in the family. That’s so awesome.”

  “Yeah.”

  Jenny gave him a funny look, but wiped it away. “Well, I gotta put my kids to bed. Be back soon.”

  “Okay.” Max waited until he heard the back door close, then glanced around. His eyes fixed on Len, chasing around after a laughing Pamela. Len grabbed a playfully protesting Pamela around the waist and squeezed her. He watched them cut across the back lawn before finally Pamela pushed him away with a smile on her face. Her shake of the head reassured Max as she walked into the house alone. He wondered if Jenny knew what kind of guy Len really was. Maybe she does, he thought curiously. And maybe what Max was seeing right now had happened to Jenny before.

  *****

  The next day, Max woke up early. He wandered around a sleeping house, not sure of his place. He eventually decided to walk about the neighborhood. People were getting up and going to work. He quietly observed the rhythm of a small town waking up. The corner bakery was rolling out its awnings and carrying out freshly baked bread to its stands outside its entrance. A couple of mothers chatted to each other as they pushed strollers past Max.

  He returned to Jenny’s house and found Len munching on bacon and eggs, grease and runny egg yolk dripping lazily from his chin.

  “Hey,” Max said.

  Len looked up at Max, unsmiling. “Yo, Max.”

  “You going to work?”

  “Yup.”

  The two men remained where they were, in silence. Finally Len flipped his eyes over at Max, studying him curiously. “You a doctor?”

  “Next year.”

  Len grunted. The two men remained in position, not really looking directly at each other, but all well too cognizant of the other’s presence. Finally, Max swallowed, gathering his resolve. He pulled up a chair, and sat down opposite Len.

  “Len,” Max said, after clearing his throat. “I’m gonna say something. Don’t take this the wrong way.”

  “I’m good.”

  Stay cool now, Max thought. He felt like punching Len in the face, and like tearing up, but managed to keep his voice from turning into a growl. He kept his tone patient, non-confrontational.

  “Look, Len, I know you love Jenny.”

  Len’s eyes widened, but he maintained his cool. “I do.”

  “And I don’t want your family to suffer.”

  Len suddenly leaned forward on the table in anger, partially clenching his fists. “Are you—”

  Max held up his hand, using his 42-year-old body language. “Listen,” he said, staying calm, watching the muscles of Len’s arms ripple below his short-sleeved T-shirt. “I just want to say one thing. It’s wrong to steal cash from the garage.”

  Len appeared totally astonished. After a few seconds of shaking his head, he grunted, “Why, you stupid asshole…” Then he rose up, and yelled, “What do you mean—” making Max fear that everyone upstairs would awaken to the sound of heated argument.

  Len realized his predicament, and lowered his voice, his eyes aiming daggers at Max. “What makes you think that?” He jabbed his finger into Max’s chest. “Did Jenny say anything?”

  “Len,” Max said hurriedly, “I can’t tell you how I know. And Jenny doesn’t know anything...”

  Len’s gaze remained fixed on Max, his right hand curled tight into a fist. He pulled back with a scowl, his arms crossed.

  Max continued, “Look. All I know is that someday you’re going to get into big trouble, Len. You think it’s just cash, but you’re going to get caught. And you’re going to go to jail, and get a criminal record. Believe me, it’s not worth it.”

  Len’s face grew ashen.

  “I’m telling you this for Jen,” Max said, “and for my nieces’ sake. Stop taking the goddamn cash. If you don’t, I’ll do what I have to do.” Max nearly hissed out this warning, his face close enough for Len to feel the spray of his spittle, his eyes seeming ready to pop right out of their sockets.

  The two men eyed each other warily, unsure who would blink first.

  Len’s chair screeched against the floor as he angrily pushed against the table. Taking one final icy glare at Max, he grabbed his keys off a hook on the wall, and then left in a huff.

  A minute later Jenny came down with the kids.

  “Hey, Max. What’s the plan for today?” she asked.

  Max paid no attention to his sister’s question. He noticed his hands were still shaking. Jenny made herself a cup of coffee and sat at the kitchen table. Max got up to leave.

  “Sit,” she ordered Max.

  Max sat down, opposite her. He tried to smile, but his face felt like a mask. The thudding of anger in his head was still deafening.

  “Want some coffee?”

  “No.”

  Jenny smiled, trying to read Max’s mood. “It’s good to see you, Max.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “Pamela’s really nice.”

  “Yep.”

  “We talked a lot about you. She says you’re working too hard.”

  “I am. It’s called becoming a doctor.”

  “You know, that’s what’s so strange.” Jenny appeared mystified. “You never mentioned being a doctor until—kaboom!—that one day in high school when you switched around all your courses.”

  “Yeah?” Max recalled, reaching into the distant cobwebs of his mind.

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Jenny continued. “I think being a doctor’s great. We don’t have any doctors in our family. You’d be the first.”

  Suddenly Max noticed Jenny’s hand was gripping his shoulder. She clasped Max’s hand and they sat in silence for a moment.

  “I miss Cherokee,” she said.

  Max felt sad. “She died last year.”

  “She was the most joyful, the most spirited dog ever. I loved her.”

  “Me, too.”

  Jenny squeezed Max’s hand, then let go of it. “So, Mom and Dad’s divorce is final.”

  “Just went through this spring.”

  “I feel so bad about them. But I knew it’d happen. I just didn’t think they’d last this long.”

  Max sighed. He sat silent as a stone. All my efforts were for naught. He thought he could have saved their marriage, by coming back in time as a teenager. But somehow their fate had been nailed shut, from the start. Max thought he could face it, this mix of confusion and bitter disappointment, but the wound it created in his heart had deepened now, and depression had formed around it like thick scar tissue.

  “I thought they’d get divorced right after I left,” Jenny continued. “It was that bad. You sure acted very mature, talking in their language. I found it fascinating sometimes. That’s not the old Max I knew.”

  The kitchen was weirdly silent. Max felt his hair standing up on end. He watched Jenny take a swallow of her coffee, then another swallow, and thought it over. He felt nervous asking his next question.

  “So,” he gulped, “how’s everything going with your marriage, Jen?”

  Jenny reflected for a moment. “Pretty good. We don’t have much money. And I miss my friends from Vancouver.”

  Max gazed at his sister.

  Jenny sighed. She looked straight into his eyes. “Max? Are you happy?”

  He was taken aback. He searched for an answer.

  He was happy, but…well… “Yeah, I am,” he said. And then he shrugged.

  “Are you still mad at me?”

  Max thought about it for a moment. Was he still mad? Yes. Should he try to not stay angry and just to let go of all his bad feelings? Yes. Yes.

  “No, not anymore.” H
e grinned at her. The grin was only for comfort.

  “Good,” said Jenny, not sure whether to believe him or not. “You can stay as long as you like.”

  “We’ll play it by ear.”

  “Right,” Jenny said as she sighed, taking another swallow of coffee. “I like that.”

  *****

  Max and Pamela stayed another three days. Each day, the pattern was sticky, like molasses. Each day followed its own rhythm. Max slept until ten in the morning. He fell asleep on the sofa after lunch. For a while, upon waking up from deep slumbers, he even dreamed he was heading home to Vancouver. He’d lost his sense of time and place, and became disconnected.

  “When do you want to go back to Vancouver?” he asked Pamela at one point.

  “Vancouver?” Pamela laughed. “You mean Calgary.”

  “Oh.” Max blushed, embarrassed. “Calgary. Of course. Ooops.

  For one wild moment Max even considered telling Pamela everything. All about Dr. Time, and Life II. The more he rejected it, the more it made his head ache. Can everybody see I’ve been here before? It feels like it’s written all over my face.

  Max rubbed his temples. He was tired of thinking about it. His body felt like it had broken glass in it instead of bones. Don’t run away from it, Max. Don’t hide from this new life you’ve been granted.

  Max had quite bonded with his niece, Sarah. He wondered if it was because she brought out his fun-loving fatherly character from Life I. She talked incessantly to him, asking him questions like, “Do you know how many stars there are?” She blurted out the question just before her bedtime the night she got to stay up very late, when they were looking up at the night sky.

  “Oh, billions and billions,” Max replied, smiling.

  “No,” Sarah was certain. “There are twelve.”

  “Twelve!” Max replied, pretending to be enlightened.

  “Uh huh. I’ll count them for you.” She led Max to a better view of the night sky, pointing to the stars. “One, two, four…” Max let her mistake slip by.