by Mark A Labbe
“What are you doing up there, dummy?” she said, taking me by surprise. I looked down at her, seeing her dirty clothes and mismatched shoes, wondering if I knew her.
She climbed to the top of the fort and gave me a soft punch on the shoulder. “Whatcha doin?” she said.
“Just thinking. What’s your name?”
She frowned. “I hoped you would remember me.”
“I know you?” I said.
She held out her hand, showing me a ring, a small silver band with an amethyst. It didn’t look familiar. “It’s pretty,” I said.
“You gave it to me, Kev,” she said.
“Oh, I do know you, don’t I?” I said, feeling bad for forgetting her, but still not remembering her at all.
I saw tears forming in her eyes before she turned away from me, crying.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I forget things, but I guess you know that already.”
“I know,” she said. “I just wish you wouldn’t forget me all the time. It is a shitty thing to do. Crap. Rule twenty-one. Rule twenty-one.”
“What is rule twenty-one?” I said, confused.
“It’s nothing, Kev. I sometimes have potty mouth. It’s against the rules.”
“What rules?” I said, vaguely remembering some kid in school telling me something about some rules.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t answer that. Rule one.”
“Well, if you can’t tell me, why are you telling me anything at all?”
“I don’t know. I am an ass. Ugh, rule twenty-one. Rule twenty-one.”
“Stop that.”
“I can’t help it, Kev.”
“What’s your name?” I said.
“I don’t have a name. I’m just the girl. I wish you could remember. Maybe you could wish you could remember. Shit. Rule twenty-six and rule twenty-one. Don’t be mad at me, Kev. I can’t help it. I feel so hopeless.”
“Why do you feel hopeless?”
“I’m not supposed to tell you, but I’m going to tell you anyway. You’re stuck in a loop. You need to find a way out.”
I had heard this before, but from whom I did not know. “What loop?”
“Kev, wish to remember everything. You have the red cube now, don’t you? Wish to remember everything. Please,” said the girl.
I reached in my pocket and pulled out three small cubes, red, black and clear. I looked at the red one for a moment and then looked at the girl, who had turned back to face me, her cheeks wet with tears. I desperately wanted to kiss her in that moment. I could think of nothing other than that, and forgot everything she had said leading up until that moment. I leaned over and kissed her.
The girl grabbed me and hugged me tight, sobbing now.
“What’s wrong with you?” I said.
“Do you remember anything I’ve said?”
“Like what?” I said, remembering nothing she had said.
“It’s nothing. Why don’t we go home and have some green tea?”
“Home?”
“To Uthio Minor.”
“I live in Connecticut. Where do you live? By the way, what is your name?”
“I don’t have a name. I just told you that. That does it. We’re going to Uthio Minor.”
“Where is that?” I said.
“About thirty-seven billion light-years from here.”
The world around us distorted and disappeared. We then appeared on a beach, near an outdoor bar. I saw hundred foot tall palm trees lining the beach. This was, perhaps, the most beautiful place I had ever seen, familiar yet completely foreign.
The girl walked me over to the bar and we sat next to each other. A strange, bug-like creature about six feet tall standing behind the bar approached and said, “He’s forgotten, hasn’t he?”
“Yes, Brok,” said the girl.
Brok. I knew that name.
“Time for some green tea, Kev,” said Brok, placing a glass of greenish liquid in front of me. I looked at the girl and she nodded, so I picked up the glass and took a sip.
I heard children laughing and playing and then heard a woman’s voice. I looked around for the source of the voice, but saw nobody other than Brok and the girl.
“Hello, for the bazillionth time, Kev. Blah, blah, blah, and so forth. Welcome to The Do We Really Have to Go Through This Yet Again Experience,” said the voice.
“Who are you?” I said.
“I’m your fairy godmother. Now, pay attention. Maybe it will sink in this time.”
I saw flash of light and then darkness, followed by a complete replay of my life or lives, an infinite number thereof. For ten seconds I knew who I was, or at least who I had been. I did not know I was God, but I started to suspect I was. I remembered everyone in the universes, the infinite universes, including Clive…Satan. I knew he was trying to end all creation, and knew that if he captured me, he would do just that. I saw another flash of light and then appeared in the park, kneeling in front of the girl, placing a ring on her finger. She knelt down in front of me and said, “I love you forever.”
I found myself sitting at the bar, Brok and the girl looking at me expectantly.
“Well?” said the girl.
“Well, what?” I said, having no memory of anything that had happened.
“It’s pointless,” said the girl, looking at Brok.
“Hey, do either of you know my friend, Clive?” I said, now remembering Clive and wondering where he might be.
The girl looked at me, clearly surprised. “You remember Clive?”
“Sure. He’s my best friend,” I said. “Do you know him?”
“What else do you remember?” said Brok.
“I don’t know. Why are you looking at me like that, Brok?”
“What else do you remember, Kev?” said the girl, squeezing my arm.
“I don’t know. Not much, really. Why?” I said.
The girl broke into tears, and I tried to comfort her, but nothing worked.
“Maybe you should get Clive,” said Brok.
“No, it’s pointless. He’s not going to remember. Maybe I should just take him back to the park and let him live his life. Maybe he’ll figure it out on his own,” said the girl.
“What are you two talking about?” I said.
Ignoring me, Brok said, “Maybe you’re right.”
The girl took my hand and said, “Goodbye, Kev. I love you. I hope you figure it out. I wish I could be with you to help you, but it is far too painful for me. I know that is selfish of me, but I’m just not strong enough. Please understand.” Again, the world around me distorted, and then I found myself standing alone at the top of the fort, wondering what Uncle Joe was doing, thinking this might be a good time to go fly some planes.
Several years later, I returned to Macon, now sixteen years old. Clive had transferred to another school that year, some place in Hawaii, and although I remembered him to some extent, I didn’t remember much. I had no memory of the girl and absolutely no understanding of who I was.
I went to the park every day, feeling it my duty to go there, feeling like someone was going to meet me there, and meet me there she did, but only on the last day of my visit.
I had been sitting on one of the benches in the park, thinking about my parents. They had died that year in a car accident, their car struck by a semi hauling a shipment of maple syrup. I had been living with my aunt, doing my best to cope with their loss, but found myself inconsolable.
She came to me then, now older, beautiful beyond compare, angelic and pure, and I remembered her and immediately broke down, my grief unbearable.
She took me to Riddent, to the Lost Hope Hotel, where we got married and spent three beautiful and peaceful days together. We talked about many things, but she shed no light on who I was or what was going on. She never mentioned the rules, never broke the rules, and never expressed any amount of sadness. She had accepted things and was determined to see things through, for better or for worse.
In that time, I remembered some things, but chose not
to ask her questions. I knew that questions would only make her sad and wanted to just be with her and show her how much I loved her.
On the fourth day, I woke up, having forgotten everything. I remember waking up next to her and asking her who she was. I remember her tears and then returning to Macon. I remember her kissing me goodbye and telling me she would see me again some day.
I graduated a year later and moved to Boston, having been accepted to MIT. I spent two years there before dropping out, feeling stifled in that place, despite the fact that I wanted to learn new things. I had a strong desire at that time to find a way to make contact with alien races, believing there was life elsewhere and thinking I must find a way to reach out.
After dropping out, I moved to a small town in Vermont, buying a house with part of the insurance money I received after my parents’ deaths. I had enough money left over to sustain me for some time, so I set to work developing a device that would allow me to send faster than light signals to any part of the universe I chose.
The device took two years to develop. In that time, I suffered from acute depression, often wondering if life was truly worth living. I knew I had memory problems, knew that I had a life that I would never recall, and wondered if continuing this way was worth it.
Clive had hunted me down at one point and given me a call. We spent our time on the phone talking about our childhood and the time we had spent together, Clive reminding me of many things, but never telling me about things like The Show or the girl. He seemed sad, and I asked him what was wrong, but all he would say was, “I just wish you could remember, Kev. I think you would be a lot happier if you could remember.”
On the day I finished building the communications device, I put together a package of data that included pretty much every piece of digital media I possessed, books, programs, music, things I had written, and a variety of other things. I attached a suicide note to the package and then sent it to every possible point in the universe.
Moments later, I received responses, thousands upon thousands of responses. Most of them were about something called a Flogulator, a device that could help you with an overly sleepy or overly alert flog, whatever that was. One of them was from someone who called herself Ruby. She claimed to be my wife. She claimed that I had disappeared and told me she was going to come right over. She did not want me to kill myself. I immediately forgot about this message, went into the bathroom and grabbed all my pills, went into the kitchen and poured a glass of water, and then went into the family room and sat on the couch.
I poured all of the pills on my coffee table and started taking them, three at a time, starting with my sleeping pills. At that point, a beautiful woman in a tight fitting, red dress entered my home and rushed over to me.
She looked at the pills on the coffee table and said, “How many have you taken?” quite alarmed.
“I don’t know. Maybe nine. Who are you?” I said.
“I’m your wife, Kev. Please don’t do this.”
“What’s the point? I can’t remember anything. There is no point in living.”
“You will remember, Kev. I am going to help you remember.”
I saw a blur as Ruby’s hand shot out over my glass of water and then back, but didn’t think much of it, believing the sleeping pills were making me hallucinate. I took a sip of the water and said, “How are you going to help me remember?”
Ruby kissed me softly and said, “Do you remember that? Come to the bedroom with me.”
I took a sip of water, my eyes on Ruby. I felt the pills taking hold of me, but not in the way I expected. In that moment, I felt quite giddy, and in that moment, going to the bedroom with Ruby struck me as a wonderful idea.
I awoke next to a naked alien wearing a broad grin on her, his or its face, jumped out of bed and cried, “What are you?” Remembering everything we had done.
“Relax, Kev. We’ve done it before. You should be happy. I’m pregnant.”
“Pregnant? Who are you? What are you?”
“I’m Ruby, you silly man. Don’t you remember me? I thought this would make you remember, but I guess I misjudged the situation.”
I threw on my clothes, rushed out of the house and down the street to the bar. Inside, I sat at the bar and ordered a screwdriver, my drink of choice.
“You sure you don’t want a green tea, Kev?” said Max, a concerned look on his face.
“What? Green tea? No thanks. I need something strong,” I said.
“There is nothing stronger than green tea,” said Max.
“Oh, well fine, I’ll have that.”
The front door to the bar opened, and in walked Ruby, now appearing as the beautiful woman who had taken me to the bedroom and done unspeakable things to me, with me--I wasn’t entirely sure. She sat down next to me, placing her hand on my thigh.
“What are you?” I said, my eyes wild with fear.
“Oh, hi, Ruby,” called out Max from the other end of the bar.
“Hey, Max,” replied Ruby.
“What are you?” I said, again.
“I’m a Nidian, the mother of your four sons, the four Kev’s. Well, also your soon to be fifth son.”
“What? You’re joking, right?”
“Not at all. I could take you to meet the four Kev’s if you like. The fifth will be born in about an hour, and then I won’t be able to have any more children.”
Max came over and dropped off a glass of greenish liquid, winking at me but saying nothing and then drifting off to the other end of the bar.
“This is a nightmare. Wake up, Kev. Wake up,” I said.
Ruby squeezed my thigh and said, “I can assure you this is not a nightmare, my dearest. Why don’t you take a sip of tea? That will help you, I hope.”
I took a sip of the tea and had The Isn’t This Getting Old Experience, followed by a quite vivid replay of what Ruby and I had done together most recently.
“What the hell?” I cried.
“Do you remember?” said Ruby.
“Remember what? You drugged me and took advantage of me!”
“Well, I’m a Nidian. Goes with the territory.”
“Nidian? What the hell?” I looked at Max, and, again, he winked at me. What the hell was going on? If this wasn’t a nightmare, what was it and when would it end?
Ruby sighed. “I guess it’s not going to work, Max.”
“Yeah, maybe not,” said Max.
“What’s not going to work?” I said.
“Don’t worry about it,” said Ruby. “I tried. Can’t say I didn’t know this would happen.”
“What would happen? What the hell is going on?” I cried. The other patrons of the bar all looked at me, not surprised, sympathy on their faces.
Barry walked over to me and patted me on the shoulder. “It’s okay, Kev. You’ll remember eventually. Right, guys? He’ll remember.”
I heard many voices saying things like, “Yeah, sure he will,” or “Not soon enough.” I heard one person say, “I’m going to kill myself and sit this one out.”
“Maybe you need to go check your messages on that communications device of yours, Kev,” said Barry.
I had never told anyone about my communications device. How did Barry know about that? Something was not right, and I knew, in that instant, that nobody here would tell me a damned thing, the bastards.
I rose from my seat and said, “I am leaving now. I do not want any of you to follow me. Thou shalt not follow me!” I stormed out of the bar and returned home.
The Girl
Back home, completely uncertain of pretty much everything, I checked the messages on my communications device. I had received an additional thousand or so messages advertising the Flogulator. It seemed spammers existed everywhere in the universe.
Someone sent a request for a copy of Breakfast of Champions, which I packaged and sent over along with a brief note reading, “You might want to read Galapagos as well, one of my favorites.”
Another message read, “Do you re
member me now?” Remember who? I was sick of thinking about forgetting and remembering and deleted the message.
The next message read, “Don’t delete my messages, Kev. Do you remember me?”
I wrote back, “No,” and deleted the message.
The next one, from the same sender, read, “Kev, you have to get out of your house immediately. Go to the bar. The Canadians are coming for you.”
I replied, “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Get out of the house now!”
I heard a slamming sound, like someone trying the break open the front door. That couldn’t be good. I jumped up from my seat, opened the window and climbed out, and then raced through the woods, trying to keep out of sight. I reached the edge of the woods, across from the bar and scanned the area. I didn’t see anyone, so I ran across the street and flew into the bar.
Max was waiting at the entrance, as if he knew I would come. He grabbed me by the arm and escorted me forcibly to the storage room. “Stay here,” he said. I nodded but said nothing.
Max left me. Soon, I heard voices, some raised. Someone shouted, “Where is he, ey?” Another said, “When was the last time you saw him, you hoser?” I could not make out any of Max’s responses.
The voices died down. I waited for what seemed like an eternity before Max returned to me, telling me it was safe to come out.
“Were those Canadians?” I said, still able to remember the text of the message that had warned me.
“Yeah, and they were pretty pissed, too,” said Max.
I looked around the bar. There was nobody there other than Max. Where had everyone gone? Where was Ruby? Had I imagined Ruby? Was this a nightmare? “Why are they looking for me?”
“Because they are a bunch of nihilists is why. They are pissed that all creation hasn’t come to an end and they hold you responsible for that,” said Max. His face changed and he said, “Forget I said that, Kev. I was just talking out of my ass.”
“Huh?”
Max sighed. “Look, I guess I’ve already spilled it, so here it is, at least what part I can explain at this point. The Canadians are pissed off because all creation hasn’t ended. They believe you are responsible for that, and they want to capture you and force you to end all creation.”