Remember Me (10 page)

“The Celtics game tomorrow.”

CJ snorted and laughed deeply. When I didn’t join in, he finally said, “hopefully you aren’t planning on betting on the Celtics, even with the point spread it‘s a fools bet. You won’t make a nickel on it!”

“How about a bet that the Celtics will win by more than

thirty points?” I threw at him.

The smile immediately left CJ’s face. “I’d call it nuts and you too,” he said, and not so pleasantly either.

I knew I needed to ease his mind and keep him tight, the only word that made sense to me. Keep him close and respectful, distant and wondering! “You can doubt my mental state and deny the bet, and walk out of here, or just maybe—I might really know something.”

“What do you think you know? “ CJ asked in a quiet, less hostile sounding voice, but the cynicism was blatantly present.

I didn’t like his tone, but I went on anyway, “I had a dream a couple of days ago. In the past, I used to have them all the time.

I’d dream about mundane events in the future, then they’d come true. When they actually happened, I’d get a feeling of déjà vu. I couldn’t stop myself from doing the same things I’d S 69 S

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done in my dream; but as they unfolded, I always said to myself: “I’ve done this before.” I completely had CJ’s attention.

I went on, “I had a dream about watching the Celtics-Lakers series on television. In game one the Celtics murder them by more than thirty points, and everyone believes the Celtics are going to win it in four straight. I know different! I’ve learned to trust my dreams. After the humiliating loss, the Lakers will come back and win the series four games to two.”

I had a purpose in sharing both of my revelations together.

One was a set-up, not for me, even though CJ would think it was…at first. It was to gain his trust and put him firmly behind me. If he believed that I could dream the future, and in fact my dreams did come true, he stood to make a nice bit of change for himself and the “Family.”

“Okay, let’s say I only slightly believe you, which I mean very slightly. What do you propose?”

It was my turn to smile. I had him, and we both now knew it. He couldn’t be certain if I was nuts or not, and he wanted to put me to the test. Sometimes dollar signs are all it takes.

“I want to make a bet, the whole five thousand on the point spread of thirty points. I believe that after the game, the odds against the Lakers to win the series will go way up. I’m going to bet the winnings, with your help, on the Lakers. Call it a proof bet if you want. In the future, I know there will be other bets to make as well. When the next dream comes, then we’ll work out the arrangements.”

CJ mimicked my smile, he couldn’t help it. Either way, he was going to come out ahead. If I was wrong, then he had my money—easy money. If I was right, then the future looked to be a great place with me supplying him with inside information—via my dreams. He spent the next half-hour going over the linguistics of betting and how it might all play out. He no longer spoke to me like a mark. He wasn’t ready to make me S 70 S

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an equal either. I was relatively sure that over the next year we would become very close associates. The last arrangements were made and payments were procured. He said I would get a call before the game on Monday to let me know what my final odds would be. On the way out the door, he shook my hand. I watched him get in his perfectly polished Mercedes and drive away. He didn’t know it; but he might be upgrading to a BMW

fairly soon.

Sunday was a day of relaxation. All the “What ifs,” from the previous day’s encounter with CJ had been discussed, rehashed and finally filed away as we awaited the outcome of Monday’s game. The three of us went out for lunch in Waterloo after my parents returned home from their church service. The food was fair and the conversation was basically silent. We all had other things on our minds. I thought about what my children were doing without me. I was feeling sad at knowing it would not be a festive time for anyone. My only consolation, and it wasn’t much of one, was in hoping there wasn’t an alternate future without me in it. I was never going to shake that feeling, two times going on simultaneously. I didn’t know which feeling was worse, believing it, or not believing it was that way. I wasn’t certain if this timeline could be re-drawn. I kept going back and forth in my feelings about time. If I did something chaotic in this time would I eradicate the previous timeline and turn this one into the main one? Was there even such a thing as alternate timelines? It was an eerie feeling I couldn’t rationalize. I was beginning to realize that everything I had read in my future-past about time travel was purely science fiction. I knew time travel had many unproven theories, and so far none of them seemed to be any closer at explaining how I came to be here.

“Andrew?” my mother called out to me.

I stirred from my thoughts, “hum?”

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“When you talked about the dreams to CJ, was that all

make believe? It sounded so real”

I smiled, “Make believe, Mom. It came directly out of a

novel I’d just finished reading.”

“Did you ever write a novel yourself? You always talked

about it!”

I cast my eyes downward, “Nope, never found the time.” I wasn’t being truthful, but Mom didn’t press me anymore. She could tell, like any good mother, that she’d touched on a sore spot.“What’s the next step after you claim the winnings?” my father interjected, breaking up the unsettledness in the air.

“I believe I may need to make one more prediction before I gain all of CJ’s trust. Greed is a powerful motivator. If he knows I’m not a one-hit wonder, I think he will be more open to a strategic alliance.”

My father nodded his head in agreement, “I can see that.

Never in my life did I think I would potentially have ties to organized crime.”

“Nor the day when son could beat his father in chess!” I laughed and raised my glass of wine in a mock salute.

“Is that a challenge?” my father questioned as he knocked glasses with me.

“Nope, just a statement of fact,” I retorted, smiling my best devilish grin. “In all honesty Dad, I’m not yet sure what the end results will be in regard to CJ and his connections. It seems right somehow, for the moment anyway. It’s easy to see he is attracted to material items and as long as I play the magical soothsayer of untold riches, I think I can manipulate the situation just enough to get what I need.”

“I really don’t like the idea of using him to get a new identity. It could all go wrong. It’s dangerous enough even asking about it,” my father cautioned me.

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“Maybe, but it’s still the only foreseeable option available.”

“Do you really think he’ll bet the point spread too?”

“I really don’t know, maybe. I think he’s hooked, but cautious. The potential payout may be too much to ignore,” I commented.

“What if…by you just being here it has already changed

the outcome of the game?” my father asked me quizzically.

“I’ve considered it, but I’m going purely on gut-feeling alone, I don’t think so. I’m no expert on time theory varia-tions—who is? Show me one other person in my situation. I’m not even certain if twenty-five years from now the weather will be the same as it was on the day I was sucked into the wormhole, or whatever it was that brought me here.”

“Maybe you should make another trip to the library for a little time travel research. I’m sure Marge would be willing to help,” my father said nonchalantly.

I snorted, nearly spitting out my wine on the table. “I’m persona non gratis at the library. By now Margret has posters of me hanging in all the libraries around the state. She probably even hired a sketch artist to do a rendering of me.” I started laughing, and my father joined in.

“Stop it you two,” my mother interceded, “it’s not funny.

Life has become complex…ok, exciting too,” she said with a sly smirk on her face. Leaning over the table to whisper to us she said, “We have to take it slow and be extra careful. More than just our lives could be at stake!”

I looked around the restaurant. No one was paying us

any attention. For the entire world to see, we were just three adults enjoying a Sunday meal. If they only knew the truth, they might not have been so carefree in their indifference.

I had that “living a science fiction movie” sensation again.

Sarah Conner from the “Terminator” was nagging at the back of my mind, and recently Marty McFly from “Back to the Future”

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had begun to join her. If only Doc Brown was real, and he would let me borrow his DeLorean. With all the money to be made betting—what I wouldn’t give to have Marty’s book of sports scores. There were definitely some similarities between the movie and my real life. I didn’t believe for a moment that I would be going “Back to the Future.” For a taste of strange, I remembered that the film would actually be released in a couple of months. Maybe my life really wasn’t so coincidental.

My father and I stayed up fairly late on Sunday night. We were into our fourth game of chess. The first two went my way and the third one went to my father. It was a stupid move on my part that gave him an easy win. He asked for one more game, and I obliged. By twelve-thirty the outcome of our game was still in doubt, and both of us were losing our ability to focus.

Our yawns kept coming more regularly. We decided to call it a draw and put the chess pieces away. Mom had long gone to bed, so I said goodnight to my father and headed upstairs.

I lay still in my bed for quite awhile listening to the sounds outside my window. I was tired but also very tense. The muscles in my neck ached from more than just sitting in one place for too long. Events had been put in motion, and I was deathly afraid of the outcome. More than anything, I didn’t feel worthy of being responsible for what was to come. Hard choices were going to have to be made, and I didn’t feel prepared to face the challenges ahead. I don’t know why, but I suddenly missed Samantha. She and I went to movie after movie together. It was a common bond we shared. We could spend hours talking about movies with each other. When it came to useless movie trivia she knew it all. I thought about Emily too, and how she and I shared a passion for sports and the outdoors. They were as much a part of me as I was a part of them. Did they feel as empty as I did? It was a question that I would never know the answer to.

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place in this here and now. I would be whisked back to the exact same moment in the future from when I left. I would even accept it if it was five years down the road. I couldn’t stop myself from thoughts of all the pain and anguish they would be going through. What had they thought when I turned up missing. I could only imagine. My insides told me they would eventually come to the conclusion that I had lost my mind and wandered off. They might be worried I’d suffered a heart attack or brain aneurism. They would search the fields and along the roads for me, praying I wasn’t lying dead in one of them. I doubt kidnapping would ever cross their minds. And when no ransom demand came, I hoped they would continue to believe it had been some kind of foul play, and not think it was a man fearing his fiftieth birthday and then deciding to run away. I couldn’t bear that thought. Amy knew how much I loved her and her kids. It would tear her apart to think I deserted them all. God I needed her…

I turned over onto my side and faced the wall. Shadows

danced across it from the moonlight outside of the window.

I closed my eyes and sought my memories of Amy. I willed her to come to me. I listened for the sound of breathing, her heartbeat. I could feel the closeness of her body, the warmth of her skin as she snuggled into me. I breathed deep the scent of her skin, her hair, fresh from her nightly shower. I tasted her as I kissed her imaginary shoulder. I raised my arm and draped it around her. She took it in both of her hands and snuggled it in tightly to her chest. I felt the rise and fall of her soft breasts as she breathed. I pulled her close, wrapping her ever tighter in my embrace.

“I love you!’

“I love you too,” she responded as she always did and always would—even if it had to be only in my mind and dreams forever more.

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“God I miss you! I need you so much. I don’t know what

to do.” The silent loneliness of the night was the only reply. I pulled her even closer as a solitary, single tear escaped my eye.

I fell asleep clutching desperately to the memories of what had once been the greatest love of my life.

On Monday, the three of us paced the room like grandparents waiting for news on the birth of their first grandchild. I could speak from experience, just like my parents could. The game couldn’t come fast enough. A half-hour before tip-off, CJ called to let me know the odds weren’t going to be great.

The best he could do for the bet was seven-to-one odds. If we won, after costs, he chuckled at this as he said this; it would leave us roughly thirty-two thousand dollars in profits. To me, whatever I took in was just more seed money for betting in the future. I thanked him for his help. His reply, “It remains to be seen.”

At least for now, my being here had no effect on the outcome of the game. Boston started fast and finished with a fury, dominating the Lakers all the way to a 148-114 victory. My mother was never a basketball enthusiast, but she whooped it louder than my father and me, put together. She jumped up and down when time ran out and the Lakers missed their final shot, guaranteeing a thirty-plus point victory. The house would have won on the odds with the margin at thirty, we needed thirty-one.

We waited expectantly for CJ to call. He made us wait

nearly two hours after the game was over. By then we had come down off the ceiling, and during the wait our euphoria began to change to one of worry. When the doorbell rang, my father nearly knocked over the table lamp, as he jumped up in surprise. “I’ll get it,” was all he said as he rushed to the door.