by Mark A Labbe
All of my friends, the friends I didn’t usually remember, would come over to play, but all of them had been instructed not to mention anything about my parents or anything else I might have forgotten.
My aunt, a strange lady by all accounts, did her best to take care of me, but she had problems of her own. I would often hear her talking to herself, often saying things like, “Why can’t it end? Why can’t we all do something else? Why can’t he remember?” She had taken to drinking and often drank too much, often saying things like, “Do you think you are going to figure it out, Kev?” or “I would tell you, but you would just forget. You’ll never remember. You’ll never win,” after a few drinks, even if I said nothing to prompt her.
We would go to movies, often movies too mature for me, would go to a nearby park to feed the ducks, and would sometimes go on adventures to distant places, some beyond strange, alien worlds far, far away, places Aunt Helen told me I had been to before. Aunt Helen did quite a bit with me and showed great love for me. That said, I can’t say I was unhappy. In fact, I think I was happy, although at times, I felt more than a little confused and more than a little concerned for my aunt.
Summer came, the school year finished, and Aunt Helen sent me away to camp for the most of the summer, my idea, although I knew not why.
There I met Clive, one of my bunkmates. A tall, thick, brown skinned boy, nine years old, Clive lived in Hawaii. He and I immediately hit it off, spending all of our free time together.
Clive liked to play games, and had made up a game called The Show. I was the contestant on The Show, a sometimes-unwilling contestant, given that the challenges on The Show usually led to injury. However, I always healed and healed quickly, which often led to Clive saying things like, “Do you get it?” or “Is it sinking in yet?”
On the last day of camp, Clive thought up a strange challenge, one he called, “Choke Hold.”
“So, you sit there and I’ll get behind you and put you in a choke hold. All you have to do is break free and you win,” said Clive.
“What if I don’t break free?” I said. Clive was much larger than me and I knew I stood no chance of breaking free.
“Then you die,” said Clive.
“Tell you what,” I said. “How about you go drown yourself?”
“Funny. Are you going to play or what?” said Clive.
How many times had I broken my arm that summer, only to heal seconds later? Three times, I thought. I had also broken my nose and my shinbone, had split my skull open and punctured my abdomen after falling on a pointy stick. Each time I had healed in a matter of seconds and each time I forgot the pain and eventually the injury.
“Fine, I’ll play.”
Clive got behind me and put me in a chokehold, squeezing as tight as he could. I punched and kicked and tried to scream, but he would not let go. Eventually, I blacked out, saw a flash of light and then found myself on the ground, staring up at Clive, a sick grin on his face.
“What happened?” I said.
“You tell me,” was all he would say.
On our last day at camp we exchanged numbers and email addresses. Clive told me he would be attending a private school called Baker, a school not far from my home. I told him I would try to get my aunt to send me there.
I never forgot who Clive was that entire summer, although I could barely remember the names of any of the other kids I met while at that camp.
Three days after returned to my aunt’s home, Uncle Joe flew up to Connecticut in his airplane and brought me down to Macon, Georgia, to his farm. I had vague memories of that place, and of a nearby park. I remembered an abandoned farm across from the park and a girl, although I couldn’t remember her name.
On the first day with Uncle Joe, he took me to the park and played with me. He brought a remote controlled helicopter that we flew, although I crashed it a few times, eventually breaking it beyond repair. The whole time, I had my eyes on the barn on the abandoned farm, but for what reason I did not know.
The next day, I went to the park by myself. In the center of the park stood a large wooden fort. I climbed to the top of it and stared out at the abandoned farm, perhaps expecting someone, soon seeing a young girl poke her head out of the half-opened barn door.
I saw her come out of the barn, running toward me. I knew her, but did not know how, and wondered if I would ever know.
She stopped at the bottom of the fort and called out, “What are you doing up there, dummy?”
I fell in love.
She wore ratty, torn and soiled jeans and a dirty white shirt. Her shoes were mismatched and untied and she had a big grin on her face. Her black hair looked like it hadn’t been brushed in months and she had two missing front teeth.
“Waiting for you, I think,” I said, knowing, in that moment, that was exactly what I had been doing.
She climbed to the top of the fort, gave me a playful punch on the shoulder, and then said, “You don’t remember, do you?”
“No.”
“That’s okay. You will eventually. So, are you going to ask me to marry you?”
“What’s your name?” I said.
“I don’t think I know you well enough to tell you that, Kev,” she said, the grin still on her face. “So are you going to ask me to marry you?”
“Um, will you marry me?”
“Not like that, dummy. You have to get down on your knees.”
I dropped to my knees and asked again. Her face turned serious, and she said, “I accept.” She leaned down and gave me a kiss and then pulled me up to my feet.
“Why don’t I remember you?” I said.
“You don’t remember many things,” she said. “Do you want to go somewhere far away for our honeymoon?”
“Like where?”
“How about Uthio Minor?” she said.
“Where is that?”
“Far, far away. I can take us there. Of course, if you remembered, you could take us there, but you don’t.”
“I guess I don’t remember a lot of things,” I said.
“I know, Kev, but you will.” She grabbed my hand and for an instant, the world distorted.
We appeared on a wide beach, hundred foot tall palm trees lining the shore. Off in the distance I saw a hut of some sort, perhaps an outdoor bar. I saw a creature behind the bar, bug-like and dark. Nearby, I saw a house with a thatched roof and bamboo walls. The girl led me to the house and took me inside.
I remembered this house and had vague memories of living in it, but living in it while older. I remembered children playing in the house with an older version of me, and thought I was remembering some strange dream.
“This is our home,” she said.
“Where are we?” I said, an unnecessary question, given that I did in some strange way know where I was. I just couldn’t believe it. How was this possible?
“Uthio Minor,” she said.
“Is this a dream?”
“No, dummy. This is our home. Come on, let’s get some green tea,” she said. “Maybe that will help you remember.”
She led me out of the house and down the beach to the hut, which was, in fact, a bar. We climbed up onto two stools. I looked at the bug-like creature that was staring at me.
“Hey, Kev,” it said.
“Uh,” I said.
“He doesn’t remember, does he?” said the bug-like creature to the girl.
“Not one thing,” she said.
“I’m Brok,” said Brok.
“You’re a bug,” I said.
“I’ll have you know, I am a Belethian,” said Brok.
“Okay,” I said, thinking Brok looked like a cross between an ant and a cricket, although his hands, all six of them were quite like a human’s and his feet, all four of them, which I saw when I peered over the edge of the bar, looked much like those of a bird. Odd.
“Green tea?” said Brok.
“Yes,” said the girl.
Brok prepared two green teas and delivered them. “So, how lo
ng are you staying?”
“I don’t know,” I said, looking up at the sky, noticing two suns hanging high and a moon hovering over the horizon.
“We’re not going to be here long,” said the girl.
“Where are we?” I said.
“Uthio Minor, the universe’s greatest paradise,” said Brok.
“Yeah, but where’s that?”
“About thirty-seven billion light-years from Earth,” said the girl.
“I don’t understand,” I said, although part of me did understand, and the voice told me to try to remember this place.
“Have a drink. Maybe that will help,” said Brok.
I took a sip of the tea and gasped. This was not green tea. It tasted like--what did it taste like? Something like maple syrup mixed with jet fuel. I heard laughter, familiar voices, and then a woman’s voice.
“Welcome to The If Only You Could Remember Experience,” said the woman. I looked around for the source of the voice, but only saw Brok and the girl.
“It’s all in your head, Kev,” said the girl. “Just relax.”
In that instant, an infinite number of lives passed before my eyes, all my lives, each different, but somehow the same. I remembered and forgot countless times, sometimes possessing infinite knowledge, sometimes not knowing who I was. The moment passed and I found myself sitting cross-legged in the kitchen of my home in Connecticut, a home I had forgotten. I saw a woman standing near the refrigerator, talking to a man. Something told me these were my parents, although I did not recognize them.
“Where’s Kev?” said the man.
“Oh, he’s in his room, taking apart his airplane,” said the woman. “Why don’t you go see him?”
“In a minute. I’ve been thinking about something.”
“What’s that?”
“I think we should change Kev’s name.”
“Why would we do that?” said the woman, turning to face the man.
“Don’t you think Kev is a stupid name? Don’t you think we should name him Kevin?”
“What’s wrong with Kev?”
“I don’t know. It’s not a real name. It’s an abbreviation, if anything.”
“Well, it was your mother’s dying wish that we name him Kev,” said the woman.
“You and I both know she was drunk when she said that. She must have meant Kevin.”
“I don’t know. Why does it matter?”
“It’s just a stupid name. Anyway, maybe we could name him Jeremy or something else.”
“That would just confuse him, dear. Anyway, if you feel that strongly about it we can have it changed to Kevin, but I’m still going to call him Kev.”
“Okay,” said the man.
I blinked and found myself back at the bar, now staring at the girl.
“Well?” said the girl.
“What?” I said, having virtually no memory of what I had just experienced..
“It didn’t work,” said the girl to Brok.
“What didn’t work?” I said.
“You’ll figure it out eventually,” said the girl.
“I don’t understand what’s going on,” I said.
“I can’t tell you,” said the girl. “You have to figure it out on your own. Rules are rules, after all.”
“What rules?” I said. “Are we playing a game?”
“You’ll see,” said the girl. “Where should we go next?”
I paused for a moment before saying, “Is any of this real?”
“In a way,” said the girl. “You know what? Maybe we could go somewhere really cool. I haven’t been to Bela Feck in a while. You’ve been there before, but I’m sure you don’t remember.”
“Okay,” I said, now in a haze. “What’s it like?”
Once again, the world distorted, and then we appeared on the deck of a super-massive platform in the middle of a vast, green sea, a giant, pale blue sun setting. On top of the platform rose skyscrapers miles high. I saw aliens of various shapes and sizes roaming around, ignoring the two Earth-children in their midst.
Strange kite-like creatures floated above, green and yellow, and I could smell mint in the air. “How are you doing this?” I said.
“You should know, Kev. It’s sad that you don’t.”
“We are on another planet,” I said, mostly to myself. “We can breathe here.”
“Well, not all worlds are like this, of course, but there a millions upon millions that are. There are many places we can’t go, places beyond strange. I’ve seen many of them, but only when protected by containment fields. Some day, I’ll take you to Galthinon, if you don’t find it yourself first.”
“Containment fields? Galthinon?”
“Yeah, they a very useful when you’re in some places. As for Galthinon…well, you’ll just have to see for yourself. Too bad you can’t remember.”
“Who am I?” I said struck by a strange doubt, feeling the clear cube pulse in my pocket, and wondering if I would ever find out.
“You are. Doesn’t that tell you enough?” said the girl. “You hungry?”
“Yeah,” I said, my belief that this might be a dream taking hold of me again.
The girl led me to a small building on the edge of the platform. On the pale red wall facing us, I saw a gray square and an opening. She placed her hand on the gray square and then reached into the opening, pulling out a small cup filled with something that looked like crushed green ice, handing it to me along with a spoon. She got one for herself and brought me over to a yellow bench.
I scooped a bit of the green ice onto the spoon and tasted it, surprised to find it tasted much like lime and cherry mixed together. “Is this safe to eat?”
“Yeah, of course, dummy. Do you think I would try to poison you?”
“What is it?”
“Not sure, but it’s good. I call it Goog.”
“Goog,” I said, taking another bite. “Is it nutritious?”
“Doesn’t matter. Eat anything you want. You’ll be fine.”
“You know, I’d think I would remember if I had been here before,” I said.
“Nah, you forget things all the time. You really should destroy that black cube of yours.”
How did she know about the black cube? “Why should I destroy it?”
“You have a tendency to lose your memories when you use it.”
“Use it for what?”
The girl looked at me, a sad smile on her face. “I want to tell you, but now is not the right time, Kev.”
I pulled out the black cube and looked at it. As I moved to press the button on it, the girl stopped me. “Not now.”
“Why?” I said.
“You should only use it when you really need to,” she said.
“I don’t even know what it is,” I said.
“You’ll remember.”
Later, we went to the top of one of the skyscrapers. From the top, we could see other platforms in the distance, immense structures with skyscrapers as tall as the ones on this platform. Flying ships moved to and fro, some landing on our platform, some going to distant places.
“I like coming here,” she said.
“It’s beautiful. Are there other places like this?”
“Well, Hithatios is somewhat like this, although the buildings aren’t as large, and the sky is yellow there. You have to use a containment field there. Can’t breath the air.”
“How many places have you visited?”
“I’ve lost track. Far more than I can count, but my favorite place is Uthio Minor. That is our planet.”
“Ours?”
“Yes, Kev. We are the only ones who live there. Well, right now, anyway.”
“What about Brok?”
“He lives on Travet.”
“Is that a nice place?”
“It’s different. I’ve only been there once and that was enough for me.”
“I know I’m going to wake up soon, so I want to thank you.”
“Kev, I can say with absolute certaint
y that you are awake.”
“Maybe we should get back,” said the girl.
“How much time has passed?” I said.
“Back home, no time will have passed. I can bring us to any time we want to go, except the future. To the relative future, yes, but the true future hasn’t happened yet.”
“What does that mean?”
“What year do you think it is?” she said.
“It’s two thousand, five.”
“Wrong, dummy. It’s three thousand, thirty-seven, Earth time.”
“How is that possible?”
“You’re living in the past. You’ll see soon enough. Anyway, we’re in three thousand, thirty-seven right now. When we were on Uthio Minor we were also in three thousand, thirty-seven.”
I tried to understand, to make my confused brain accept things, but I found myself in a haze. “You’re really not going to tell me what’s going on, are you?”
“You’re going to figure it out. Anyway, it’s against the rules.”
“What rules? What are you talking about?”
“I can’t tell you. I’ve already said too much.”
We returned to the park in Macon and played for a couple of hours before the girl left. She said she had to take care of something important, and disappeared right before my eyes.
The next day, I went to the park, waiting for her to return. She showed up, as I was about to leave.
“Sorry I’m late,” she said.
“I didn’t think you were real.”
“Oh, I’m real. You might be too,” she said.
I didn’t ask for an explanation, knowing it was pointless. “Maybe we can go somewhere else today,” I said.
“Not today. I just stopped by to say hi.”
“Couldn’t you have just gone back in time to when I first came here?”
“I can only come to you in your relative present, not your past, Kev. You explained it to me once, but I have to admit, I didn’t understand a word you said.”
“But, you said this is the past.”
“It is my past, not yours. Well, it is your past, but not the way you might think.”
“Not helpful.”