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Fast Forward

Page 8

by Juliet Madison


  I tried to shrug her hand away but it wouldn’t budge. “No, no! You people are frauds!”

  “It’s your birthday, today.” It wasn’t a question, but a confident statement.

  I narrowed my eyes at Liliana. “How did you know that?”

  She smiled.

  “No, someone could have told you, or you could have been following me. I’m going now.” Again I tried to move but this woman sustained her grip, even stronger than the breath from Miss Hurricane who was now dabbing at the corner of her eye with a tissue.

  “This birthday has not been what you expected, has it?” Liliana asked.

  I shook my head and looked down at my feet. “No, it hasn’t.”

  “It’s strange, when I read your energy, instead of getting a continual flow, I sense a sudden interruption. Like a big chunk of your life has gone missing—it’s strange, I tell you.”

  Intrigued, I looked up into her bright blue eyes. “Go on.”

  “Come.” She gestured to her booth. “Take a seat and let me see what else comes up for you. What’s your name, dear?”

  “Kelli.” As though hypnotised I obliged, setting my backside down onto the chair, much to the dismay of Rosie, who escaped from her booth into a room out the back of the store.

  Liliana took a normal breath like a normal person and continued. “It’s as though you’re living two different lives. I get a sense of the person you were in the past, when you were younger—very strong willed and determined, with your whole life planned out. And now, the person you are at present is more … flexible. More creative. More spontaneous. And yet, it’s like there’s this string trying to pull you back to the past and another one trying to pull you forward. You’re stuck. Stuck in the middle and you wish more than anything that you could go back and live the kind of life you used to live. Is this making any sense to you?” Liliana’s eyes searched mine.

  The tingle of goose bumps appeared on my arms and tiny hairs stood up on end. “Yes, it makes perfect sense.” Finally, someone who understands.

  “Do you have any specific questions you’d like to ask me?”

  Did I have any questions? Boy, did I have questions! Where would I start? How was it possible to wake up twenty five years in the future, why did I marry William of all people, why did I have children when I couldn’t even handle a pet, and why am I not the world’s most famous supermodel?

  I lowered my voice to a whisper. “Liliana, do you believe in …” I glanced around surreptitiously to make sure there were no men in white jumpsuits getting ready to whisk me away to a facility for middle-aged menopausal psychopaths. “… time travel?”

  Liliana didn’t gasp, or bring her hands to her mouth, or call security—she didn’t even flinch at the question, as though asked this kind of thing every day. “I’m not totally convinced that it’s possible … in the sense that a person can travel to the future, or the past for that matter and remain the same age like you see in the movies.”

  Damn. And I thought she’d believe me.

  “But,” she leaned in close to me over the table, her eyes darting right and left as though checking for eavesdroppers, “I have heard of a phenomenon known as a fast forward, in which a person is transported to the future—their future—but their age adjusts to what it would actually be in that particular time.”

  A loud bell sounded in my head as though I’d just hit the jackpot and my jaw dropped further than it had during my morning bungy jump. “Seriously? There’s such a thing and it has a name?”

  Liliana nodded. “But I only know of a few cases through my spiritual colleagues. It’s all very hush-hush, as a couple of people who reportedly experienced a fast forward and were brave enough to share their story, were publically ridiculed. So-called experts classed them as delusional. They were turned away by their families and friends and left to wonder if they truly had gone crazy.”

  “Holy cow.” Blood thumped hard in my veins and blue bulges lined my hands as they gripped the table.

  “Wait … are you telling me you’ve experienced one of these?” Liliana’s eyes were like needles, piercing into my soul.

  I cleared my throat and took a breath almost as epic as Rosie’s. “I believe I am experiencing one right now.”

  The cardboard booth wobbled as Liliana suddenly leaned backwards, her chair bumping into the back of the booth. “Now? As in … you’re in your future, right now?”

  I bit my bottom lip and nodded.

  “Well, I’ll be damned!” she said. “Never thought I’d live to see the day. So tell me more …” She leaned forward again. “I get the feeling you were a young woman when this happened, say early twenties?”

  “Twenty four. Today was supposed to be my twenty-fifth birthday, but, well … look at me. I’m no spring chicken! Today’s my fiftieth.”

  “And you remember nothing of the last quarter of a century? You went to bed twenty four and woke up fifty?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Liliana kept shaking her head. “And is this future—your life—how you thought it would be?”

  “Not at all. It’s completely different!” I filled her in on my normal life and my life as it was right now. She laughed when I told her I was so desperate to get back I even bungy jumped. “Why me, Liliana? Why did this happen to me?”

  “Only you can know that, dear. But all the reported cases had something in common. According to them, their life was going perfectly, or so it seemed, when the fast forward propelled them into the future and a life they didn’t recognise. And also, they each had lost a parent prematurely.” She placed her purple finger-nailed hand on mine. “Your mother was sick, wasn’t she? I can feel pain in my joints and a deep depression in my heart.”

  “Yes.”

  “But it wasn’t the illness that killed her, it was something else.”

  “Yes.” I lowered my head, my grip on the table softening, hands now trembling. “She had rheumatoid arthritis. Severe enough that she couldn’t follow her dream of being a professional dancer.”

  “She wasn’t that old when she died. She had you quite young, yes?” Liliana enquired.

  I nodded. “She still had hopes and dreams she wanted to pursue. The symptoms subsided somewhat during her second pregnancy apparently, but after she’d had my little sister she …” I searched my mind for the words.

  “Became a different person?”

  “Yes, exactly. There were times when she was in a sort of remission and would frantically rush about doing things, taking me shopping and to photo shoots, but then the condition would flare up and the mood swings would start again.” I shifted in my chair at the uncomfortable memories. “She’d get angry, yell and then cry, sometimes for hours. I never really knew if it was from the stress of the disease or the piles of medication she took.”

  Liliana patted my hand. “She began relying on certain things to numb the pain … physically and emotionally.”

  “Alcohol, mostly and sleeping tablets. One day I found her on the couch. I thought she was asleep, but when I approached her she was pale, so pale. Her chest wasn’t moving. An empty bottle of wine and containers of medication were on the coffee table. Some of the pills had fallen to the floor and I knew she was gone. The only thing I didn’t know—still don’t know—is whether it was an accident or …”

  My voice cracked and I couldn’t bring myself to say the ‘s’ word. I mentally pushed down on the swollen bubble of sadness rising in my chest. “Anyway, that was a long time ago. I haven’t thought about that day for a long time. It’s probably best if I forget about it.”

  “Dear, your mother wants you to know that it was indeed an accident. She didn’t realise what she was doing and only wanted the pain gone,” Liliana spoke softly. “She also wants to tell you that she’s sorry and she’s showing me a piece of paper being ripped up. Does that mean anything to you?”

  I rubbed my ears as I heard the painful rip of paper, as though it was my heart being torn in half, but before I could respond
to Liliana a beep sounded from my e-pad. It was a message from Kasey:

  How close are you? Am at the cafe, see you soon I hope. Kasey.

  Oh no, I’d completely lost track of time! Liliana’s reading had gone over the fifteen minutes, compounded by Rosie’s incompetence and there was so much more I wanted to talk to her about. I glanced behind where several people waited in line for the psychics. “I have to go, but thank you so much.” I grasped Liliana’s hands and stood up. “Can I come back later, what time do you finish?”

  “I’m here till five, then off to my daughter’s engagement party.” Liliana smiled. “I’ll be here over the weekend as well.” She then leaned close to me. “Don’t be scared, dear, I’m sure you will return to your normal life, but you were sent here for a reason. When you’ve realised what that reason is, go back to your life armed with the knowledge of how to make your life the best it can be.”

  I clamped my lips together and nodded, before turning away and walking out the door. Away from the one person who believed me and knew I wasn’t crazy. I took another of those breaths that everyone says to take and checked the time on my e-pad. I was determined, that by the time the birthday cake was placed in front of me I’d be ready to go home. I’d understand why I’d been sent here and it would all be over.

  I could do this. I could get through the rest of this day. It would be a piece of cake, pardon the pun. Only five hours until the guests would arrive at my party and then they’d sing Happy Birthday, and I’d make my wish. Only five hours. What could possibly go wrong in that amount of time?

  Chapter 9

  Five Hours to Go

  “If we could be twice young and twice old we could correct all our mistakes.”

  – Euripides

  A man in a suit nodded at me as I walked through the doors of City Junction Cafe. “Good afternoon, madam, do you have a reservation?”

  “I’m meeting my sister, Kasey, it might be under Crawford?”

  The man removed one of his hands from behind his back to press a screen next to the door. “There’s no Crawford, could it be under another name?”

  It couldn’t be under McSnelly, could it? I was too embarrassed to ask. In fact, by the looks of the opulent interior with mahogany tables and crystal chandeliers I doubt they’d let anyone by the name of McSnelly inside.

  A woman from one of the tables by the window glanced in my direction, her rounded cheeks reflecting the light from outside. She was definitely my little sister. Just twenty five years older. She waved at me and I waved too, taken aback by how classy she looked. Her once dishevelled mop of hair was moulded into a sleek bob and she was actually wearing lipstick!

  “Don’t worry, I see her,” I said to the man.

  He glanced towards Kasey and with a sweep of his hand, ushered me through before returning to his vigilant stance. All sibling rivalry dissolved as I approached the table, my tense muscles relaxing at the sight of a familiar face, even though somewhat different. “Kasey, Kasey, it’s so good to see you!” I flung my arms around her and she laughed.

  “I saw you yesterday, why so happy? Ah, you’ve had one of those better-than-sex facials, haven’t you?”

  “I sure have.” I sat down on the suede chair.

  “Happy birthday! I heard you’ve had a lot of fun so far?”

  “Well, apart from my trip to the doctor’s this morning, that’s never fun.”

  “Doctor’s? What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, nothing, I think I just came down with the common cold, but it’s mostly gone now.” I managed a tiny fake sniff for effect.

  “The common cold? Good one, sis!” Kasey faked a hearty laugh. “You know how many times I’ve heard that joke?”

  “Joke? What do you mean?”

  She laughed again. “Oh yeah, tell the person who found a cure for the common cold that you have the common cold. Seriously, Kelli, the joke’s so old now, but I’ll humour you because it’s your birthday.” She winked.

  I faked a chuckle, while inside I racked my brain to process what she’d just said. Tell the person who found a cure for the common cold that you have the common cold. Was she serious? Did she actually mean that she’d …?

  “Hey Doc, fancy seeing you here!” A grey-haired man said as he walked past our table.

  “Yes, fancy that,” Kasey replied with an exaggerated tone of sarcasm. The man continued on his way to a table of similar looking men in boring trousers, shirts and terrible ties.

  Doc? I eyed Kasey curiously.

  She thumbed over her shoulder in the direction the man had passed. “He says that all the time. It’s getting a tad old. Most of the staff from FutureTech Labs eat here at least three times a week.”

  “Old … like the joke about the common cold, huh?” I tried, hoping to extract more information from her.

  “Yeah, and the one where people tell me they have some kind of bug. I mean, it’s been over five years since my discovery.” Kasey took a swig of water from her glass.

  Wow. She was serious. “Well, um … I’m very proud of what you’ve achieved.”

  “Thanks. Who would have thought that a common household bug would hold the key to the eradication of the cold virus, eh? I still shake my head in disbelief when I think about it.”

  Holy crap … my sister found The Cure for the common cold! No wonder she looked all flash and we were meeting in a place like this. She must be worth a fortune! Okay, if I ever get back, I’ll never tease her about her bug collecting habit again.

  Beep! A message on my e-pad.

  Hi hon, the hardware store was all out of heavy duty stretchy rope I’m afraid. But I picked up this neat multi-pocket tool storage belt that I can wear. I’ll fill it with the supplies we’ll need: a can of whipped cream, jar of chocolate spread, a feather and one of those massage roller things. Off to buy them! xxx

  Please, ground, swallow me up right now.

  Beep! P.S Can’t wait to see you at the meeting. Love you – W.

  I opened my calendar. Meeting – 3:30 p.m. Okay, it looked like I would have to attend this meeting, since the YouthMagic facial wasn’t so magic after all. I had no idea what the meeting was about … and what was that UK man’s name again? Mr Tulson … Mr Turret … Mr Tugboat? Damn, I had no idea. One step at a time, Kelli. Right now, I was having an extremely long overdue catch-up with my sister. There was plenty of time before the meeting.

  “So, what are you having?” Kasey asked, pointing to the inbuilt e-menu in the mahogany table. “Pick anything you like—my treat of course.”

  A bottle of wine would be good. But I should probably have some kind of protein on the side to make it a complete meal. Actually, it could be best to avoid alcohol until tonight. I wanted to keep my wits about me and I did have to drive … unless my talking and mostly self-driving car had an option for taking complete control due to birthday-induced intoxication. Nope, better not take the risk.

  “Let’s see …” I eyed the e-menu, but the words blurred slightly under my gaze. I leaned in closer, but they blurred even more, so I tucked my chin to my chest and leaned back. That made things clearer, but I could barely make out the words.

  “What are you doing?” Kasey giggled.

  I must have looked like a right idiot. “I can’t seem to read the menu. Is yours blurry too?”

  “Put your glasses on,” she replied.

  Glasses? I wouldn’t be seen dead in glasses and besides, I’d never needed them.

  “Honestly Kel, I know you hate wearing them, but presbyopia is a normal condition for people your age. You need the glasses to help focus on things up close.”

  Geez, not another bodily defect. I’ll add that to the list of thirty seven other afflictions for the middle-aged, shall I?

  I pinched my e-pad and reopened William’s message. I had no problem reading that, but the text was three times the size of the e-menu, so no wonder. “I forgot to bring my glasses.”

  “Then enlarge the screen.”

  “Oh.” I
tentatively pinched the screen on the table and hoped it functioned like the e-pad. It worked and a listing of the available food choices came into focus. “Hang on,” I looked up at Kasey. “You’re not much younger than me, how come you can read the menu so easily?”

  “I had the surgery, remember? The surgery you were too chicken to have, so you opted for the glasses which you’re too chicken to wear?”

  “Ah yes. Well, if everything can be enlarged, why even bother with the surgery or glasses?”

  “Not everything in the world is written in holo-ink, Kelli. Technology hasn’t come that far.”

  I stifled a chuckle. Kasey may have grown with the technology, but when you’ve been shoved into the future suddenly you realise how far it had come. I assessed the menu options and resisted the urge to express shock at the prices. Not to mention some of the strange food combinations. By the looks of it, genetic modification really did take off, despite all the protests. Turken, cranberry and camembert melt on broccolato rosti. What the heck was that? Turken … aha! Turkey Chicken. Broccolato … ah, so someone had found a way to genetically combine a potato with broccoli, huh? Ingenious for all the vegetable haters/potato lovers out there.

  “What will it be, madam?” the waiter asked me as he approached.

  Madam—or in other words … old woman. I was used to being called Miss and Love and Sweetie.

  “I’ll have the turken, thanks.” I swallowed a giggle.

  “And I’ll have the steamed salmon with roast vegetable salad,” Kasey said.

  Wow. She was much healthier than I remembered. She’d always ordered things like fish and chips, pizza, or hamburgers. Salmon and vegetables? I was impressed.

  The waiter disappeared into the kitchen and for the second time that day my stomach grumbled. Geez, what was wrong with me? Before, I could go all day without eating and now I couldn’t even last a couple of hours.

  “So, how’s business? I hear you’re meeting the Mr Turrow this afternoon,” Kasey enquired.

  Mr Turrow … that was the guy’s name! I still didn’t know who he was or what the meeting was for but at least I wouldn’t call him Mr Tugboat now. “Yes, that’s right. Um, it’s going well I guess.” For all I knew, business could be on a downward spiral and Mr Turrow could be some kind of debt collector.

 

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