Troy’s Possibilities

by Rodney Strong

  Emily just looked at her.

  ‘Okay, that sounded unbelievable to me too. I was worried about you. I got a feeling something might be wrong – you seemed really pissed off last night.’

  Emily looked between the two of us. ‘Great, another one with feelings. Troy had some sort of psychic flash I was in trouble.’

  Cat studied me with interest, but I wasn’t paying attention. ‘Psychic flash,’ I repeated. ‘Does that mean I’m right?’

  Emily wouldn’t meet my eyes. ‘I refuse to have this conversation naked,’ she declared and left the room.

  ‘So what sort of feeling did you have?’ Cat asked me. ‘Was your spidey sense tingling?’

  ‘You’re a fine one to talk,’ I shot back.

  ‘Woman’s intuition,’ she replied smugly. ‘Is Emily going to be okay?’ she added.

  I glanced at the door and frowned. ‘I hope so.’

  Emily came back in, and with a start I realised she was wearing the same track pants and T-shirt I’d dressed her in during the Possibility. Without a word she sat down at the table, Cat and I automatically taking two of the other seats.

  ‘Okay, I want a serious answer,’ Emily said. ‘Why did you think I was in trouble?’

  ‘You’re my friend, Ems. I knew something wasn’t right, and when I couldn’t get hold of you I …thought the worse.’

  ‘Is that it?’

  ‘Does there have to be anything else?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ She sounded unsure.

  ‘What is it, honey?’ Cat asked.

  Emily took a long time to answer. ‘I was sitting at my desk this morning, and I realised I’d reread the same thing twenty times. And somehow it led to the thought that it was all too hard, and the next thing I knew I was coming home and taking my clothes off and going into the bathroom. And I truly don’t know what I was going to do. This little voice was saying, Just cut all your hair off, go for a new look, and this other voice was saying, What’s the point? Lie down in the bath and stay there forever. And then Troy burst through the door and scared the hell out of me, and saw me naked – we’ll talk about that later – and I guess I want to know that there was a reason for it, that maybe there is something in the universe, something bigger than us, that has a plan, and the plan includes me being okay.’ She trailed off, a little embarrassed, and lost.

  I looked out the window, struggling with the right words. I desperately wanted to help her, but there’s only so much truth I could reveal without forever changing the way they looked at me. I was finally connecting with Cat, and it could easily fall apart at this early stage. In the end I said, ‘I sometimes get these images. Like snippets from a movie. And then they happen, like déjà vu.’

  ‘Are you saying you’re psychic?’ Cat asked.

  I searched her face for scepticism, for a sign she had one foot out the door, but she just seemed interested. ‘No, nothing like that. It’s just sometimes things come to me. And today I got this clear image of you, Ems, lying in the bath. You were catatonic, like you’d laid down to die, and when I couldn’t get hold of you I came home.’

  Emily stared at me in astonishment.

  ‘I don’t know if it was the universe. Maybe it’s because we’ve been friends for so long. But something brought me here.’

  ‘I don’t know what to say,’ Emily said.

  Cat looked at me shrewdly.

  I offered, ‘How about, Hey, Troy, that sounds crazy. I’m putting a lock on my bedroom door in case you decide to murder me in my sleep.’

  She looked troubled and I was worried I’d said too much.

  ‘I don’t know how to handle this,’ she finally said. ‘I don’t see the world the same any more.’

  The laptop was sitting on the dining table, so I turned it on. I clicked on a couple of buttons and a picture filled the screen. It was of a butterfly on a yellow flower, the creature’s vivid red-and-black wings open to the sun.

  ‘That’s beautiful,’ Cat said.

  ‘Who took this?’ I asked Emily.

  ‘You know I did.’

  ‘She’s thinks it’s beautiful. Do you?’

  ‘Yes, of course,’ she answered in a bewildered tone.

  ‘Why do you think it’s beautiful?’ I demanded of Cat.

  She watched me thoughtfully. ‘It’s a perfect moment in time. That butterfly has such a short life that it’s probably dead by now, but this photo captures who it was.’

  I went out of the room, returning a short time later with Emily’s camera. ‘If you can’t see the world the same, then don’t look at it the same. Use this instead.’

  ‘Did you go into my room?’

  ‘Focus, Ems. You have a talent with this thing, so use it.’

  Cat rummaged around in her bag and pulled out a business card. ‘You also need to talk to someone. This is a wake-up call, Emily. You need to get help. This is the woman I’ve been seeing – she’s a great listener and she will help you get better. She’s helped me.’

  Emily took the card from her and looked at the writing on it. ‘I thought I was getting better. Troy taught me how to fight and I felt stronger, less afraid. But I guess all I did was push everything down and pretend.’

  Cat reached over and squeezed her hand. ‘Pretending only works for so long. Call her,’ she urged.

  Emily looked thoughtfully at the card, then nodded and pushed it to one side.

  ‘No,’ said Cat firmly. ‘Now. We’ll wait.’

  Emily sighed and picked up the card, carried it over to her cell phone and dialled.

  Cat said quietly to me, ‘Images, huh?’

  ‘Are you rethinking date number two?’

  She shook her head. ‘Hell, no. You just got way more interesting.’

  I couldn’t figure out if that was a compliment or an insult so didn’t respond.

  She laughed. ‘How about Friday night? Movie?’

  ‘I’ll check my social calendar.’

  ‘You do that,’ she said with a twinkle in her beautiful eyes.

  ‘You’re in luck – a slot seems to have opened up for Friday night.’

  ‘I thought it might.’

  Emily sat back down at the table. ‘I have an appointment for Thursday at 10am.’ Her voice betrayed a nervous excitement.

  ‘Awesome, we can go together – my appointment is after that. Now I have to get back to work. It’s a crap job but I don’t want to lose it until I become a mega-rich, wildly famous actor.’

  I walked her to the door and we shared a quick hug, a slower kiss, and a promise to talk later.

  Emily was still sitting at the kitchen table. ‘So … psychic. All this time we’ve known each other and not a word.’

  ‘I’m not psychic. I just get feelings sometimes.’

  ‘Troy, have you not watched any of the psychic murder shows on TV? That’s what a psychic does. This is amazing.’

  ‘No, Ems, it’s nothing we’re going to talk about again. Ever,’ I said sharply.

  She looked at the expression on my face. ‘Hey, of course. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine.’

  It wasn’t. She was dying to ask me questions. She was already looking at me differently, which is the one thing I never wanted to happen. I resolved never to talk about it again with her or Cat, no matter what the circumstances.

  ‘I do have one question, though,’ she said. ‘How come you haven’t made me fabulously rich? Would it have killed you to slip me some Lotto numbers?’ My face said it all. ‘Okay, just kidding. I’m going to lie down. Suddenly I feel tired.’ She kissed me on the top of my head, then left the room.

  I hoped this was a Possibility, not real life, so it would all go away. I knew this would eat at Emily and she would eventually want to talk about it, but I couldn’t. I just couldn’t do it because she would think I was crazy.

  I’d seen that reaction before. From my parents when I told them what was happening to me. From the doctors when I tried to convince them I wasn’t mad, though all the
time I was wondering if I was. It had all happened during Possibilities, but it had convinced me never to try again.

  The one with more dates

  Emily and I spent the next few days watching each other intently while trying to pretend we weren’t. I think she was waiting for me to put a finger to my head, or touch something and jolt with a psychic vision. Meanwhile I was checking to make sure she got to her appointment on Thursday, which she did. Although to be absolutely certain I got Cat to pick her up. The thing with lying to people is you’re always suspicious they’re lying back to you.

  Emily didn’t want to talk about the session, but she seemed happier, and assured me it had helped. I believed her.

  The next night Cat and I had our second date. We went to a movie, which she chose, and ate popcorn, which I chose, and spent the first five minutes of the movie working out the logistics of trying to comfortably hold hands while eating popcorn. At some point the logistics failed and popcorn ended up on the floor. We were shushed by the woman behind us when we found that hysterically funny. I spent the rest of the movie creating popcorn angels with my feet.

  Afterwards we grabbed a late dinner at the food court – McDonalds for her in the form of a Big Mac combo, while I settled for a chicken kebab dripping in garlic mayo. Cat looked at my choice of food and suggested chewing gum might be in order before I kissed her again. Over the next ten minutes we dissected our meals and the movie in alternate bites. Cat declared she was a much better actor than the lead, and using chips as props proceeded to recreate a pivotal scene. When she was done the table of four sitting next to us broke out in applause. She turned red, then gave a half-bow of acknowledgement.

  This time the date finished at her house. During the evening she’d told me she was thinking of moving out, getting a flat somewhere, since she found living with her parents again a bit stifling. I took it as a good sign, that she was returning to the normal state of someone in their twenties. But for now the evening ended at her parents’ front door, where we settled for several kisses, each touch of lips allowing us to learn something about the other – what we liked, how we tasted, how we felt. I left disappointed. It’s not like things were going to go any further, but knowing the opportunity was taken away by the threat of parents hovering in the next room was the frustrating stuff of teenagers.

  The next three weeks were busy ones. Cat and I went on four dates, each ending at a front door with soft kisses and growing frustration. Emily continued going to counselling and the results astounded me. I’d thought she’d been getting better before, but now I could see the real Emily back – in three dimensions, not the pale copy I’d been living with for months. I apologised a lot during those days, feeling I should have seen the signs earlier. Eventually she told me to shut up or she’d move out. A hollow threat she’d used on many occasions, but a good sign she was on the right path.

  She also threw herself into photography, finishing the course I’d given her for her birthday. She then joined a photography group that went out most weekends to take pictures of flowers and birds and stuff I thought was pretty boring, but she loved it.

  Emily hadn’t raised the whole psychic thing again, although I sometimes saw her look at me sideways. I suspect she was wondering if I could make her rich by winning Lotto. The truth is I had made us rich before, in a Possibility, by winning Lotto and splitting it with her. She’d blown half a million dollars in a year on clothes, first-class trips around the world, and friends that materialised at the start but vanished like ninjas into the night when the money ran out. Even if I could do it again, I wouldn’t.

  One thing happened that didn’t help dissuade Cat and Emily of my mystical ability. A week after our second date I ran into Steven during a lunchtime walk. The weather was cool, but not raining, so we stood to one side of the pavement and exchanged the usual heys, and how’s it going. He made some crack about me seeing his sister, and I asked him about his relationship, and that’s when the tone changed.

  ‘It’s okay,’ he said reluctantly.

  ‘It’s okay?’ I repeated. ‘Those aren’t the words of a boy in love.’

  ‘I never said I loved her,’ he shot back. There was something else though, something that should have gone on the end of the sentence.

  ‘But she said it to you,’ I guessed. By the look on his face I’d hit the bullseye. ‘Do you love her?’

  The goofy grin was a good sign.

  ‘Figure it out, numbnuts. I’ve seen you with her, and without her. You’re better with her.’

  ‘You’ve barely seen me at all. How would you know?’ he retorted.

  I shrugged. ‘I just do. Look this could go a number of ways. She said she loves you, which is a big thing. If you don’t feel the same then end it – right now. If you do, then tell her – now. I can’t predict the future, but if you stay together then who knows what could happen? You could get married, have a baby girl, name her Rose…’

  ‘Hey, dude, settle down. I’m still at school, I don’t know what I’m going to be doing next week, and you have me married with kids.’

  ‘Only the one kid.’

  ‘Whatever.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re going to be doing next week either, but I do know who you could be doing it with.’

  He looked at me thoughtfully. We said our goodbyes and I watched him start to walk off, pulling his phone from his jeans pocket.

  ‘Hey, Steven…’

  He turned at the sound of my voice.

  ‘Don’t tell her over the phone, you idiot.’

  He looked down at his hand, then gave me a guilty look. That’s exactly what he’d been about to do.

  On the way back to the flat I stopped to pat Tigger through the wrought-iron gate. He seemed happy in his new home.

  When Cat and I talked that night she told me Steven had come home from seeing Jess, and had told his parents he loved her and they were going to move in together. Oh, well, things don’t always go according to plan. Apparently Steven hinted to his parents that I’d been the one who’d suggested this. When I explained to Cat our conversation she promised to relay the information to her mother, who was currently out for my blood.

  We were on date number seven by the time we were having this conversation. I’d got no sense that anything would be different about tonight – there was no flashing neon sign above her head, no blatant words or seductive looks – but something had changed. A new tension between us. After dinner we went back to my place to watch TV and cuddle on the couch. Emily was out with friends so we were alone. I felt her body against mine, slightly tense, laughter higher than normal, with an undercurrent of nerves. Being a male I had no idea what was going on, so I asked.

  She sat up and looked me in the eyes. ‘I told my parents I was staying over…here…for the night.’

  My mouth went dry. ‘Oh…cool,’ was all I could get out.

  ‘Is that okay?’ she asked nervously.

  ‘Absolutely,’ I replied quickly, in case she thought there were doubts. ‘But now your parents are really going to hate me.’

  She looked relieved and nervous at the same time. I took her hand in mine and gave it a light squeeze.

  She explained, ‘Only, this is my first time. Not my first, first time – I’ve had sex before, lots of times. Okay, getting off point here. I mean this is my first time since the attack. And I don’t know if I can do it, and I don’t want to keep leading you on, and I really, really want to have sex with you, but I’m so scared right now…’ She trailed off and looked at me apologetically.

  I stood up, pulling her up with me and hugged her tightly. ‘If it helps, I really want to have sex with you too,’ I replied, as if the evidence growing in my pants wasn’t obvious. I shifted a fraction, still holding her tightly above the waist but allowing some space below. My attempt at subtlety was a complete failure as she laughed into my neck, her breath not helping the below-the-waist situation. My body vibrated with excitement while my head thumped with doubts. ‘
But,’ I went on, ‘not tonight.’

  She stiffened and pulled away, and I held on to her hands. ‘Here’s the deal,’ I told her. ‘I think we should approach tonight like a pre-date scenario. Ease into the actual sex with some pre-sex activities.’

  ‘Pre-sex? What did you have in mind?’

  ‘So maybe tonight we just sleep together – only sleep.’

  She looked down at my pants with amusement. ‘Do you think that’s possible?’

  ‘I’ll admit the talk of sex has me a little excited, but my brain is in control.’

  She gave me a wide smile that had my heart warming up for an Olympic sprint.

  ‘Mostly,’ I added.

  ‘Okay,’ she said.

  It was a few seconds before I realised she was saying okay to the plan and not being sarcastic. Holding hands, we walked out into the hallway, then I nipped back to turn the TV off, then nipped back again to turn the lights off. By this time Cat was cracking up and the tension evaporated, only to return when we were standing in my bedroom, door closed, on opposite sides of the bed.

  ‘Perhaps we should set the parameters of pre-sex sleeping together,’ she said in a voice vibrating with nerves.

  ‘Sure,’ I replied, my voice matching hers. ‘Shoes off seems sensible.’

  ‘Agreed.’ We removed our shoes, and in an unspoken agreement socks too.

  ‘I don’t normally wear my shirt to bed,’ I said. We shed the layer, my fingers fumbling over buttons I’d undone without trouble hundreds of times before. With a shrug of her shoulders she slid her blouse off, revealing smooth white skin and a black, lacy bra.

  ‘I don’t normally wear pants to bed,’ she offered. We both sat on the edge of the bed and I pushed my pants down, struggling to get them over feet that had grown to the size of a giant’s. Over my shoulder I heard her pull the duvet back, and when I turned she lay covered up to her armpits. I copied her and we lay next to each other, not touching, our body heat seeping into the cold sheets, and pooling in the middle.

  ‘I’m not an expert, but it might be easier to sleep with the light off,’ she observed. I looked over at the switch on the wall, next to the door. Sighing, I slid out of the bed and took two steps, flicked off the light, then leapt back into the warmth.