Reasons Only Time Allows

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Reasons Only Time Allows Page 7

by Micah Thomas


  I fucked up. The more Thelon thought of Nestor, the bad vibes, the panic, the fuzzier T got until Thelon couldn’t even hear him anymore. He was reduced to nothing more than a shouting image, blurred beyond recognition, which faded over seconds to nothing.

  “Fuck!” Thelon yelped.

  He expected to wake up now, but the dream room persisted. “Huh.”

  Thelon pinched himself. His cheek. His hand. His side. Okay.

  After a moment, he walked back downstairs. The blonde girl from the cafe locked eyes with him from across the makeshift living room dance floor. She smiled and shrugged.

  Fucking weird ass dream pulling the last twenty-four hours into my subconscious. Logic gave way to a powerful desire to be outside. There’ll be pink elephants on parade.

  Instead, more of the dream presented itself as reality in complete color. Thelon forced himself to read street signs, testing to see if the words rearranged. They did not. He ran his fingers against the rough bark of trees, examining the perfect details. Thelon reached for a hedge of flowers and pricked his skin. A spot of blood formed on his fingertip and he sucked at it instinctively. How did I get here?

  Thelon walked on through the town, unconvinced of his own assessment. T said not to freak out, but how is that useful? I’m supposed to be somewhere… Ha! I’ll wake up when that alarm clock goes off.

  He explored more. Pretty. A little main street lined with little shops. Bookstores, candle stores, rug stores. Coffee shops and bars beckoned to him with smells of coffee and fried food, but he enjoyed the floating feeling of taking a stroll in the dream. The signs said Bainbridge Island. Advertisements pointed to a ferry to Seattle. I need to get back to the city…to find Henry or else Nestor will be angry.

  His thinking slowed to a confused crawl, but Thelon managed to get aboard the ferry back to Seattle. As waves slapped against the ferry, angry at the intrusion upon their waters, he got motion sick. I’m in a hotel bed. That’s the burger grease.

  The freezing air cut through his hoodie and forced him to retreat inside to the rows of plastic covered seats within. No. I’m here. How did I get here? I wasn’t sleep walking. Right?

  Once on the Seattle side, Thelon checked the map on the wall of the harbor and oriented himself. He was close to where he needed to be—only a march up steep stairs and he’d be Downtown. He reached the top and shuffled his tired legs to the familiar landmark of Pike’s Marketplace. Tourists stopped traffic to pose for photos in the evening light.

  Then he heard it, while crossing the street. Beep, beep, beep. The hotel alarm clock.

  The sound hung in the air above the crossing signal’s own sounds and above the honking car horns and general noise of the city. Beep, beep, beep.

  Aware now that he existed in two places at once, Thelon froze. He had a choice. The knowledge of it came straight from some inner source of truth. In dissonance, he relaxed into the soft sheets and softer pillow beneath his head. If I wanted to, I could wake in the hotel. Or, I can stay here and everything will be the same. How do I choose? The two things aren’t exactly equal. Aren’t the same.

  The traffic light changed, and Thelon raced to cross the street. Out of breath, the bizarre sense of being in two places faded against the pressing reality of now. He shook his head to clear the dissociation. Just go to a fucking bar, man. Decision made, he hustled the distance as a chilly rain whipped up around him.

  He hated bars. He hated this bar. Dim Edison lights cast off a glow unable to show anyone’s faces. Dark curtains half covered booths, giving the illusion of headless patrons. Thelon sat at the bar itself. The seats were too narrow for him to comfortably rest his whole ass so he half stood, more like leaning on the stool. A thunderclap shook the world, vibrating his ear drums so loud it blotted out the music. Thelon almost fell to the floor “Can I get a drink over here?”

  The bartender took his order and poured the whiskey straight and neat right away; Thelon took a deep sip.

  After he sat with the swallow in his belly for a moment, he said to himself, “I could pay off junkies. Fuck finding Henry. I’ll drink myself to death. No Nestor. No Henry. No Cassie. No end of the world because I’ll be gone.”

  “That’s fucking dark,” someone standing close behind said.

  Thelon turned and saw Henry. Real. Dark hair a mess in his face. Damp hoodie smelling of rain and street life. But smiling a sideways grin. Even his eyes, blue with dark lashes, seemed to smile at Thelon.

  His mind broke and it wasn’t the alcohol.

  “Can we get another?” Henry shouted down to the bartender, who took care of it.

  “I’m drinking again. I don’t like being drunk. It’s going to be easier to do all this shit while drunk.”

  His thoughts pushed against each other, physical slabs of slate chipped and grinded memory against memory. Moody, melodic music played, and the bar filled for happy hour . Thelon let the relaxation everyone else felt touch him around the edges. He closed his eyes and nodded to the music and just chilled. Dream or no dream, this is all right.

  “Hey, I said, that was fucking dark,” Henry repeated and pushed Thelon aside so he could lean on the bar.

  “I’m dreaming. Leave me alone.”

  “Fuck you. You’re buying me a drink.”

  “Are you on drugs?” Thelon chugged Henry’s drink and gestured to the bartender to bring two more.

  “You aren’t?” Henry questioned.

  Thelon’s mouth worked without saying anything. He’d been so confused and this dream was so weird. He found his voice as Henry’s overly alert eyes stared into him. “My name is Thelon. I’m from another world and I know you.”

  “Right. Tight. You’re John Connor. Trust me if you want to live,” Henry said in a low, serious voice.

  “What?”

  “Terminator,” Henry said in an exasperated tone.

  “No. I’m not from the future—I don’t think. Fuck.” This is not going right.

  “You want to see something cool?” Henry offered. “Let’s take a walk.”

  “You gonna ditch me again?” As he slurred the words—a jolt hit him, a physical jab to his left side, just below the rib. “Ooof!”

  Thelon’s brain received information from some other place. The visual story stretched over his vision. Dizzy and faint, he saw. Henry and I had been one being. There was the fire, too. The three of them formed an entangled ball of energy that tore through space. So powerful. So full of purpose. But Henry had done something. Portioned him off and cut him free as they descended towards Earth. That’s how I died. Henry had ditched Thelon. Why? That wasn’t the plan, man.

  Henry caught him before he fell and supported Thelon’s weight against the bar. “Hey, bro, you nodding off? The brown party liquor too strong for you?”

  “I’m cool,” Thelon said, and to his surprise he was. A walk will help—or at least buy more time with Henry while these pictures come together into something I can say.

  “Why don’t you regale me with your bullshit story along the way?”

  Thelon shook his head. “Let’s just walk.”

  It rained. Thelon sighed as Henry started up a damned steep hill. With each street they crossed, Thelon failed to think of anything. His feet and legs up to his calves ached with cold discomfort.

  Just after a highway, on a little patch of grass near the sidewalk, a giant stone arch stood like a doorway to another world. Thelon gawked at the structure. It’s like a stone version of the Energy Portal.

  Henry sprinted across the lines of traffic over to the arch. Thelon followed, out of breath, without having made any progress in preparing his speech. Henry wasn’t taller than Thelon, but he took wide steps and covered more ground.

  “One time on acid, I walked by this…this artifice and it was a glowing gate,” Henry said. “I chickened out, but I thought, if I walk through right now, I could walk right out of this world into another.”

  Thelon nodded. This is like a sign. Henry knows on some level. He just k
nows.

  Thinking he had enough to tell the beginning so long as Henry didn’t press for details, Thelon began. “Why did you talk to me at the bar and take me here?”

  Henry met his gaze. “That is a great question, but first, what do you think about this sculpture here?”

  Thelon appraised it the thirty-foot tall Roman style columns joining in an esoteric arch. He said, “Okay. Imagine you’re on acid and you walk through and find yourself in that other place. And on that other side, there is something waiting for you. Something that changes you. Merges with you.”

  “Freaky.”

  “Yeah. Well, that’s what happened in my world. You were in an experiment and went to some other world and came back with something special.”

  “Like a superhero?” Henry mimicked a Superman pose.

  “Exactly! But there were others, too.” Thelon struggled with where to cut off the story and how to make it make sense. “The other things from that place spilled over and they weren’t all pretty like the one that found you. I’m talking an army of demons, and you and me went to battle against them. Jesus Christ, you were magnificent.”

  “No shit?”

  “None. We were going to lose, though. So, we tried something.” Thelon struggled to remember this part, his recollection materialized as he said the words. “We were going to kill the entire planet, but only to save it, you see?”

  Henry looked amused. “No, but keep going.”

  “It worked, I guess. I’m here. You’re here, in my dream. We survived, but it’s not over.” Thelon crossed his arms and shivered.

  “No?” Henry tapped his chin.

  “There’s your girl to think about.”

  “My girl?” Henry rubbed the side of his head, mussing his hair.

  He just felt a jolt. He won’t say anything, but I saw it. “Yeah. I never met her, but man, you told me about her and you. Love at first sight.” What do you think about that?

  “What happened to her?”

  “She was down on Earth. I think you were going to…I don’t know. She was different, like you. I don’t know if she—we have to find her.”

  “Hey, why didn’t you say any of this before?” Henry asked and scratched his stomach.

  “What?”

  Henry got in Thelon’s face and cupped his hands around his eyes so they were eye to eye in the dark. He whispered, “We are dreaming. Right now. You came to me in my dream and said come meet me for a drink and you’ll tell me my real name.”

  Thelon whispered, “I didn’t do that.”

  Henry stepped back from Thelon and looked up at the columns. “This feels right and true, but why can’t I remember you or any of this? You ever have a dream where you know you are in your house—like, it’s your childhood home but you’ve never actually been there, but in the dream you know it’s your house?”

  Thelon listened, utterly uncertain he was in fact dreaming at all. “I think you will remember. You’re supposed to come with me. We find Cassie—that’s her name.”

  “Is she in the city?”

  “She’s in Phoenix.”

  “Fuck.” Henry’s smile bent to a frown. Drawing his eyebrows together, he shivered.

  Thelon saw this as another sign but didn’t press. Inwardly, he jolted too as if Henry’s chills were contagious, or because something had just happened outside of their ability to explain. He fucking remembered something. Thelon wanted to talk about it, but he was no stranger to the desire to be secretive when impossible memories barfed into his brain.

  Instead, he stood and walked up to the stone archway. “Want to see what’s on the other side? Come with me.”

  “You got money?”

  “Yeah. I’m bankrolling the whole trip. What have you got to lose?”

  “You know, I have stuff going on here,” said Henry. “I have, well…not a job or family or anything, but I have stuff to do. Why? Why should I go with you? And really, what’s in it for you? All this stuff you told me is about me. What about you, dude?”

  “Something bad is going to happen to me if I don’t do this and do it right,” Thelon confessed. “I don’t know how I know, but I feel something, like bad dream waiting to happen and I fucking need help. Fuck! I just need someone to help me.”

  Henry seemed to consider this when an Uncle Fester looking man came down the hill towards them at a lumbering pace.

  “Hey! Hey, Craig!” the dude shouted at them as he approached.

  Thelon sighed.

  Henry quietly asked, “I thought your name was Thelon?”

  “It is,” Thelon said wearily. “I’m not Craig.”

  The Fester fuck slowed but got too close to Thelon. “I hope you jerk off in hell, fag!”

  The man’s breath smelled gross. Everything about him was gross.

  Thelon backed up and squared against the man. “Not playing with you today. Fuck off.”

  “You got a problem. Know what I’m sayin’? You got a problem?” The man didn’t seem to care about Thelon’s desire to have no additional drama and stepped into his space, poised as if to ready to shove.

  Henry backed off and slipped around behind the man, whose sole intent seemed to be spit-talking in Thelon’s face. Henry crept right up behind, making slight eye contact with Thelon before he tapped the man on the shoulder and screamed, “Boooo, motherfucker!”

  The man jumped, startled.

  Henry laughed.

  Thelon’s eyes widened.

  Fester bounced up and down—not jumping, but like a ping pong ball, faster and faster.

  Henry made a strange sound.

  Thelon covered his eyes with his hand, but still he perceived the man’s vibration and intensifying until: POP!

  The loud noise stunned both Henry and Thelon.

  Thelon looked and the man was gone.

  “Where did he go?” Henry asked, bewildered.

  Thelon shook his head.

  “This is a dream, but it’s not a dream, is it?”

  “I have no idea,” Thelon said. I’ve got Henry. I got him. Nothing else matters. In that thought, Thelon failed to recognize that his emotion was joy, the end of loneliness.

  “Either he fell down and went splat or he didn’t. Right?” Henry frowned in confusion.

  Thelon said, “I don’t get it, but Henry?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Shit like this has been, uh…following me around. It’s gonna be like this if you come with me. Sometimes, it fucks me up. Right now though, it’s water off a duck’s ass. And it happens when I’m not dreaming, too, except I can’t really tell when I am or not, you know?”

  Henry held his hands loosely behind his back and looked up at the night sky clouds. “Are we dreaming or not? I don’t know. Do I believe you are real and going to tell me my real name? Maybe. Maybe not. Let’s see what happens when we wake up.”

  ~

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Thelon stood beside his car after checking out and gave the valet a big tip and. Will Henry show up? They had decided to meet at the hotel. He remembered talking about that. They’d talked about the trip and how Henry didn’t have a driver’s license, but Thelon could not remember how he’d gotten back to the hotel, how they’d managed to wake up from that dream.

  This did not make sense. Henry would meet him here. He knew it. Henry had found him. Henry knew something about this story, even if he had claimed ignorance.

  Thelon had no choice but to let reality play out, so he busied himself with a review of his notes for the whole first leg of the trip. Deep through Washington, cut across a corner of Oregon and into Idaho, then south through the long-ass end of Nevada before cutting into Arizona. Eight hours to Boise. Stop. Six hours to Ely. Stop. Four hours to Vegas. Stop. Four hours to Phoenix or Mesa or wherever. Find Cassie. Jesus Christ, that’s a long time to spend with someone. He won’t even show.

  But then Henry strutted up with a duffle bag over his shoulder and holding hands with a Native woman who looked old enough to be his great grandmo
ther. Thelon saw the valets flock to position as if to shoo away flies as they approached. They think he’s a panhandler.

  “Henry! Over here.” To Thelon’s surprise, he looked laundered, showered, and shaved.

  “One sec!” Henry shouted. He turned, hugged the old woman, and appeared to be thanking her. She stayed just outside the hotel parking queue as Henry sauntered up to Thelon.

  “Ready to go?” Thelon asked.

  “Aren’t you going to ask where I got the new duds?”

  “Did you scam that old lady?”

  “That’s unkind,” Henry said as he chucked his bag in the back and climbed in the passenger side. “Last night, something magical happened. This old Lummi woman, Linda. She approached me and offered me a place to stay for the night.”

  Thelon started the car and nodded. “Uh huh.”

  “Really! Turns out she’s a do-gooder. Her son died on the streets, you see. And now she takes in strays—or at least, she took me in.”

  “Did you take any money from her?”

  “I accepted what was offered. A hot meal. Some clothes from her boy and a shower—and, yeah, since you’re asking: two hundred bucks.”

  “Henry, I said you didn’t need any money for this trip.”

  “Look, she felt good and got that ‘I did something good’ feeling. I told her I was going with you to get clean and a fresh start in Phoenix, Arizona. She wanted to help. That’s all. No games.”

  “Whatever. We’ve got a lot of miles to cover today. Can you read the map for us? The GPS might crap out in some places in the desert. Not to worry, though; I’ll do the driving. We can take breaks as we need, but I’m planning as few stops as possible.”

  “Sure. Just tell me where we’re going, and I’ll navigate.”

  Henry was being so agreeable and Thelon was suspicious—not of Henry, but the ease of…everything. In a game, he’d have to overcome challenges, but his wild mood swings were his only obstacles. Everything else was a strange dream.

  They got going and the city faded to the deep forest greens and winding roads of southern Washington. Like a good omen, the rain stopped and the sun glowed through a cover of gentle white clouds. The pair could have been college students on a road trip. It felt that totally normal to Thelon, as if this path was inevitable and natural.

 

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