It was around eight P.M. Or maybe it was eight thirty, Guy wasn’t sure. He sat at their kitchen table, awaiting the inevitable scolding. He knew this day would’ve come sooner or later.
A hanging lamp guarded overhead, as if Guy was in an interrogation room, getting pressured into confession by some pig. His father, James, sat across from him, having that look on his face. The downturned corners of his mouth were always a bad sign.
The man gestured at a tablet in his hand. Guy’s grades from the past three months were on it.
“When were you going to tell me?” James asked.
Guy shrugged. “Thanksgiving, maybe. Seemed like a good time.”
“Don’t get smart with me. How many times have I told you to apply yourself?”
God, Guy thought, not this again.
“It’ll be X+1 times soon. See? My math is just peachy.”
“Don’t you understand I’m trying to help you? I want you to succeed, to sow the seeds for your own future. One day you’ll have to stand on your own feet.”
Guy leaned back in his chair. “And what does succeed mean, dad? Become someone like you?”
James’ gaze darkened. The man was like a piece of thread pulled between two hands. The breaking point was always clear from a mile away. Guy knew he was close.
The father weaved his fingers together and leaned forward, light reflecting from his balding scalp. The air in the room was tense.
“Listen, Guy.” He said matter-of-factly, “A person needs to take responsibility. Running away from it won’t help. In the end, ignored responsibilities return with sharpened claws.”
Guy rolled his eyes. He was late for his rendezvous. “I’m not taking anythin’. If you think differently you can go screw yourself.”
BAM! James slammed his fist on the table. The piece of thread had snapped.
“That’s it. Go to your room!”
A corner of the young man’s upper lip rose. “My room? I’m nineteen!”
“Really? Because you sound like an eight-year-old.”
Guy wanted to retort, but his father jerked a thumb over his shoulder.
“And stay there.” He said, pointing at the back of his neck, “You know I can still track you.”
As Guy left the kitchen, he promised he’d stay put.
Five minutes later he climbed out of his bedroom window. As he touched down on their lawn, he rubbed his neck an inch below his hairline. His pin was there, a small disc implanted under the skin. He couldn’t remember a time without it.
His father was right; it could be used to track Guy’s location in case of an emergency. The young man liked to see him try.
It was time to meet the boys.
***
They’d circled their local park twice, making sure they were alone. Their target, a statue located at its center, was surrounded by a grove of poplars. Guy believed the stone figure represented some hack from olden times.
Ralph stood on Karl’s shoulders, reaching up to the statue’s groin. He held a long clay penis. The pimpled adolescent lowered it towards his crotch, snickering and saying it was shorter than what he was used to.
“Where did ya even get a clay dick?” Guy wondered aloud.
“Don’t ask.” Ralph said as he glued the penis between the statue’s hips. “Much better.”
The three could barely contain their laughter, trying not to attract any attention. After a final proud look, they disappeared between the poplars.
Guy took a small bottle of vodka from his jacket. Passing it around, Ralph accepted it happily, whereas Karl shook his head.
“Dudes, I’ve got something you gotta see.” Ralph said, his words giving a hint of slurring. Guy suspected this hadn’t been his first drink of the day.
Ralph pulled a small device from his pocket. It resembled a TV remote, albeit with a single button, barely larger than the palm of his hand. A display in its middle showed the number five.
“Here, press the button in that direction.” Ralph gestured vaguely at a point behind Karl, “You won’t regret it.”
Guy took it, noticing its smooth plastic material.
“What’s it do?” Guy asked.
“Just press it, dude. I wanna do a user test.”
Wanting this nonsensical moment to be over, Guy pressed the button in the requested direction. Nothing happened.
Guy sighed. “Ralphy, is there a point to this?”
Ralph grabbed the device out of his friend’s hand. “I’ll explain on the way. We’re still too close to the statue.”
The three reached the barren edge of the park, where Mother Nature was replaced by Father Concrete. Guy took another swig of sharp liquor. He didn’t even like this stuff, had taken it from his father’s cabinet on a whim.
“Are you going to explain your boring little gadget, then?” Karl asked.
“Dude, seriously, shut up.” Ralph said.
The youngest of the three stared at his shoes. Guy gave Ralph a look.
“It’s okay.” Ralph said, reading Guy’s face “He won’t remember I said it.”
Guy raised an eyebrow. “Whadda ya mean? You’re not making any sense.”
“Okay, lemme explain. So, having pins sucks, right? You can’t do nothin’ without the pigs tracking you, or examining your memories if they wanna.”
Guy hated how pins looked on people, especially babies. That fleshy lump slightly protruding from the back of the neck reminded him of a wart.
Ralph waved the remote around. “But with this we can finally get some use outta them.”
Karl asked what it did, apparently having regained the confidence to look up.
“Imagine waking up after being drunk, right? Like really drunk. You can’t remember what happened because there’s a gap in your memory.”
Guy understood, even though he himself had never experienced this.
Ralph continued. “But even though you don’t remember, you still did stuff that night. You breathed and talked and made a fool of yourself.”
He raised the device like the key to a treasure chest. “This thing does the same. It makes gaps in your memory by messing with the recordin’ function of your pin.”
Guy asked, “Hasn’t the government made those unhackable? They’d pitch a fit if they couldn’t scan anyone’s memories no more.”
Ralph waved a hand. “That’s bull, people have hacked them for years.”
“So, what? You can just delete parts of my memory?”
“Not exactly. But I can choose how long you won’t memorize anything. This device goes from one to thirty minutes.”
Guy took another look at the thing, once again noticing the number five on its display.
“Why would I wanna do that?”
“Think about it.” Ralph said, “You can skip boring tests, having to study or long car rides. This baby works like magic.”
In theory, this did sound interesting to the young runaway. But Guy wasn’t convinced.
“What happens when the five minutes run out?” He asked, wondering what Ralph had made him do.
Ralph looked at his watch. “We’ll see in about fifteen seconds. Won’t we, Karl?”
Karl’s eyes widened. He asked what was going on.
Ralph shrugged. “I made Guy test it on you. No worries, you won’t remember in three...two...one.”
Something happened to Karl. He grimaced, lasting for a second before his face slackened again. He looked around as if seeing the world for the first time.
“Are we at the edge of the park already?” Karl asked.
Ralph looked at Guy, giving him one of his cool, right? expressions.
“Karl,” Ralph asked, “What’s the last thing you remember?”
Karl didn’t respond. His eyes narrowed to slits as if he’d just woken up. Ralph snapped his fingers at him and repeated the question.
“We were just at the statue.” Karl said, “you handed Guy something and next thing I know we’re here.”
Ralph revealed his blonde teeth in a satisfied grin. “Now Karl’s back to his normal consciousness. He’ll remember what he experiences again.”
“Where did you get that thing?” Guy asked, mouth agape.
Ralph twirled the remote over his fingers like a coin. “Made it myself. There are tons of tutorials online. It’s illegal, duh, but people all around the country do it.”
Guy finished the vodka, a sense of exhilaration coursing through him.
“Okay, now do me” he said, throwing the bottle in the bushes. “I wanna skip five minutes too.”
Ralph belly laughed. “Just know I’ll glue a dick to your forehead during the memory gap.”
Guy knew Ralph was lying. He always had this twinkle in his eyes when he did. Ralph could make a thousand remarks and Guy could spot the single lie among them.
He flipped his friend off. “I won’t let you mess with me now, so you won’t mess with me then.”
Ralph asked if Guy was ready, who nodded wholeheartedly. The device was pointed at him as if a magic trick was about to be performed.
***
Guy knelt below a dense bush when he came to his senses. He had trouble digesting what had happened to him. It was like instantly going from a deep dreamless sleep to full awareness. A black veil seemed to have been lifted from his mind, showing him surroundings he didn’t recognize yet.
There was breathing beside him, rushed and fearful. Ralph and Karl knelt to his left. Their wide eyes peered through the park’s thick foliage, the three of them apparently hiding from something.
“You awake?” Ralph asked. “You’ve got that look in your eyes.”
“I must be. Dunno what’s going on.”
“A police car just drove by.” Karl said.
Ralph explained it’d happened immediately after using the device. The car hadn’t stopped or slowed. Perhaps the defiling of the statue had gone unnoticed.
“What if they tracked our pins?” Karl said, “They could’ve picked up your tampering, Ralph.”
“They can’t detect that. I know what I’m doing.”
Karl pointed a finger, “You did a DIY on some black-market tool. Who knows what you caused?”
“Dudes,” Guy whispered, “can we stop arguing around the crime scene?”
No red and blue lights harassed them as they left for the suburbs. It took a while before they dared to speak again.
“You’re probably in a world of trouble, huh?” Karl asked, “With your dad?”
Guy sighed, not looking forward to a high-volume lecture.
“You know what, here.” Ralph held the device out. “Bet you’d like to skip that whole business.”
Guy tilted his head as he pondered the remote in Ralph’s outstretched palm.
He took it and winked at his friend. “Thirty minutes might save me a bit of ear noise.”
“James will chill eventually.” Ralph said, “He can’t stay mad at you forever.”
Guy pictured Ralph and James together, the three of them often having backyard barbecues. His father and best friend had the same sense of silly humor.
As the young men reached their meet-up spot, they made their goodbyes.
Given that James hadn’t shown up, frothing at the mouth, he hadn’t tracked Guy’s pin. Maybe he wasn’t even aware his son had left. The adolescent could maybe sneak back into his bedroom, not even needing Ralph’s gizmo.
He moved at a snail’s pace when approaching his own street, making an effort to stay quiet. Lights were on in his bedroom. He’d kept them off during his escape.
Guy knew he was screwed. Using the device and skipping half an hour now seemed like a blessing. Swiping a finger over the remote’s display, he raised the number to thirty. He held it to the back of his neck and pressed the bu--
***
Guy looked into a pair of hazel eyes. They were a woman’s. He was warm and sweaty, physically close to this lady. The eyes emitted vitality at first, but quickly showed something else. Her rising eyebrows mirrored Guy’s.
His other senses came to him. He was lying on his stomach, that much he knew. The lady breathed heavily; her moist skin pressed against him. The sensation came next. The sensation of...
Oh God, he thought, I’m inside this lady.
Getting up quickly, a noise of disgust escaped his lips.
“Excuse me?” She said with a sharp tone.
Guy jumped off the bed, his penis quickly wilting. The naked lady rose on her elbows. He had to look away as embarrassment overtook him.
“What’s the matter?”
She was in her forties, honey colored hair draping over her shoulders. He’d never met her in his life.
Ralph’s device had only skipped thirty minutes, he remembered. How’d he end up in this situation?
“Where am I? Who are you?”
She covered herself with a blanket, slowly scooting away from him. “Whatever you’re doing, it isn’t funny.”
Clothes lay scattered around the dark bedroom. The lady said something else, but he was no longer listening. He grabbed a shirt and pants off the floor. He didn’t recognize the items, but they were better than nothing.
Marching out the door, he entered an equally dark hallway. It was nighttime. The lady was now shouting, her voice pitching into anger. There were stairs leading down to what seemed like an entrance hall. He was in someone’s house.
Something moved in the corner of his eye, making him jump. It was a little girl, no older than five, peering through the opening of a different door. Clad in colorful pajamas, she sucked her thumb while her eyes grew with bewilderment.
Guy wanted to say something. Perhaps he fancied apologizing or telling her everything was okay. As the little girl’s face began to contort with angsty cries, Guy realized nothing he could say would help.
Instead, he went downstairs, the toddler erupting into crying behind him.
Several more dark rooms were crossed in a daze. Dining room, living room, kitchen. He accidentally ran through a pile of stuffed animals, scattering them everywhere.
There was a front door with moonlight shining through it.
“Where are you going?” A distant voice yelled.
There were footsteps on the stairs. Was she chasing him?
He opened the door, passed a car on the driveway and stepped barefoot into an unknown street. Getting away was all that mattered. Who knew when her husband came home? Discovering your wife with a barely dressed high schooler would enrage every man.
The thought of an irate man reminded him of his father. He’d burst a blood vessel. Guy had not only escaped his room, vandalized a statue and messed with his own pin. He also hooked up with someone's wife while her husband was out.
He stopped running after four blocks, having to think for a moment.
His rapid breathing echoed over the abandoned street. It was flanked by identical houses on one side of the road, lights out in every window. On the other side, there was a stretch of inky barren countryside.
Nothing hinted at his location. He could’ve been on the other side of the country. Ringing doorbells didn’t seem like a good idea, people probably wouldn’t respond warmly to such a situation.
The best option, he thought, was to first continue walking. Every step away from that woman’s house was a step towards safety.
His face itched. Touching it revealed he’d grown a beard. The device must’ve skipped weeks. Perhaps he was already twenty at this point.
As he trudged along endless rows of duplicate houses, Guy’s toes went numb. Asphalt and the occasional pebble scraped the soles of his feet.
A noise alerted him. It came from behind, movement on the road. Someone was in pursuit.
Guy turned. There was a car in the middle of the road. It was a cobalt convertible, which he might’ve found slick under different circumstances. Headlights were dimmed and windows were darkened. No engine rumbled.
The young man took a few steps towards it, peering through the blackness. Headlights ignited and burned into him. He had to use a hand to shield his face. His first instinct was to run again, but the car would catch up in no time.
Dashing off road might’ve been an idea, yet Guy thought better of it. Heading into pitch black countryside was even more risky.
Instead, he stood where he was, trying to get a bead on the driver. Apart from the lights the vehicle was static.
Is it that lady? he thought.
Confusion turned to anger, boiling inside him. If she wanted to pursue him, he at least would make it difficult for her.
Guy approached the car and slammed both fists onto the hood. “Stop following me!”
Silence at first. He might as well have yelled at the defiled statue in the park.
A voice responded, “Shall I hold?”
Guy straightened. “Just leave me alone.”
Headlights dimmed, leaving the young man in the dark. The driver’s seat door opened. Guy expected someone to step out, but nobody did.
Thinking he had no other options, he slowly approached the car. It was empty.
“Who’s there?” He asked nobody in particular.
“I’m model Clifford Type 4, sir.”
The realization hit him; it was the car talking. The voice came from its speakers. Guy knew about this; his father talked to his wheels when using GPS or asking how the weather would be. Yet he’d never seen one talk back like this. Must’ve been a new model.
“Who told you to follow me?”
“You did, sir. You left me in follow mode after our last drive.”
“How?”
Guy flinched when something went beep-beep in his pocket, piercing through the night. He found a small object. At first, he thought it was Ralph’s remote, but quickly discovered it was something else. It was metallic black and shaped like a computer mouse, only smaller. He’d never seen this type of car key before.
Now he could add grand theft auto to the list of crimes he’d committed today.
As fright was done coursing through his veins, the young man realized how cold he was.
What the hell, he eventually thought, now that I’ve accidentally stolen this thing, might as well warm up.
Getting in, he was struck by the car’s minimalist dashboard. It was nearly devoid of buttons. He gathered it must’ve been largely voice controlled.
As he settled, warmth returning to his bones, he wondered what state he must be in. He touched his hairy face again, dreading the answer.
Guy’s insides froze as he looked in the rearview mirror. At first, he didn’t recognize the lined face, receding hairline and thick beard.
He barely understood he was looking at himself. Some parts of him were recognizable, his eyes and the shape of his face. But he was covered somehow, as if he wore the most realistic aging make-up.
“Clifford, what year is it?”
“It is the year 2056, sir.”
Guy’s muscles went numb and he sagged into the chair, his groin painfully scraping against his zipper.
He hadn’t skipped thirty minutes; he’d skipped thirty years. An hour ago, he was nineteen, now he was approaching fifty.
“That woman and little girl were my wife and kid?” He almost didn’t want an answer.
“I’m sorry, I don’t understand this question.”
Guy couldn’t comprehend it, staring at a man eerily reminiscent of his father. Three decades of life had been lost in the memory void. He hadn’t even experienced dating a girl, let alone marrying one and starting a family. That person couldn’t possibly have been him.
There had to be some solution, right? He touched the back of his beck, where his pin still seemed in order.
“Clifford, do I have any files stored?”
“Yes, sir. You gave me permission to access all your personal data.”
Guy sat up again, a possible way out within his grasp. He guessed there might be backup files. He wondered whether private memory backing was even performed in the future.
“Do I have something like memory files backed up? Linked with my pin?”
“None of these terms match your current data.”
Guy cursed at the damn machine.
Ralph, he thought, Ralph made that device. He can help.
He doubted whether going to Ralph or back to his wife was the best option. She might have no idea he’d spend thirty years in a daze, his pin waiting to delete all his memories together.
Other than that, who knew what kind of damage that remote might have done to his brain? Any hospital would have him arrested for using a black-market tool on his pin.
But there was something else. It was the idea of seeing a familiar face amidst the madness he’d experienced. He yearned for it.
Yes, he said to himself, contacting Ralph was his best bet.
“Clifford, can you call Ralph?”
“That name doesn’t match anyone in your contact list.”
He gave the car Ralph’s address. Clifford’s GPS told him it was six hours away. When he wondered if he could operate this futuristic machine, it came into motion on its own. Driving yourself, it seemed, had become a thing of the past.
As Clifford smoothly navigated through dark residential areas, Guy relaxed slightly. Ralph would solve everything for him. Ralph would.
***
Clifford had carried Guy onto the nearest highway, flanked by hilly countryside. Twilight faded from the sky and was replaced by the gorgeous shade of dawn’s apricot. This sunrise was familiar at least, exactly how he’d seen it in his teenage years.
To kill time, Guy did a lot of mental arithmetic. He was forty-nine years old now. Thirty years meant thirty missed Super Bowls and at least four presidencies. He was clueless as to the state of the planet. World War Three could’ve come and gone and he wouldn’t know.
His mind went to the large house where he’d regained his normal consciousness. The car looked expensive too. Was he some kind of big shot?
Also, how long had he known his wife? Even though he must’ve seen her give birth, he didn’t even know her name. Maybe they had more--
WIIEEUUWW!
The siren rattled Guy to the core. A cop car became visible in his rearview mirror, its lights signaling at the Clifford. The barefooted man had no clue about modern law. He could’ve committed a huge faux pas and not even know. The thought made his temperature drop.
“Uuuhm...can ya pull over?” Guy asked the dashboard.
Clifford obeyed.
A cop got out, broad shouldered and wearing sunglasses. He gestured to Guy to roll down his window. The man had a sharp nose and round chin.
“Sir, are you aware you’ve reached the expiration date for your vehicle’s mandatory check-up?”
Guy didn’t know what to say. He could only give an ignorant look at Clifford’s dashboard, as if that would solve everything.
“This is correct.” Clifford’s voice emerged, “It expired twenty-seven days ago. Several notifications have been sent beforehand.”
Guy could’ve kicked the memory-handicapped version of himself.
“I...I’m sorry, officer.” Guy said, “I’ll have it checked first chance I get.”
Officer Whoever’s stern expression melted. He tapped twice on the car’s naked window sill. “You do that, sir. I realize it’s a Sunday, but you should make an appointment with a garage ASAP. Safe travels.”
“I will, officer. Thanks, officer.” Guy’s nineteen year old version would’ve rolled his eyes.
The cop motioned towards his own car. Guy wanted to cheer. Yet, Officer Whoever’s gaze happened to fall on Guy’s bare feet.
His forehead tightened. “Are you in a hurry, sir?”
Oh no…
“I’m...traveling to my friend,” Guy said.
“What seems to be the issue?”
“Oh, you know...he’s sick.”
“Is it serious?”
“Yeah, I mean no. He lives alone, I check on him sometimes.”
Officer Whoever gave a dubious look and ordered Guy to step out. As the cold road bit the soles of his feet again, his hands were placed on the hood. The former nineteen-year-old was too baffled to object.
The officer searched the interior, the trunk and even the engine. Guy was sweating even though it was freezing. If the cop would find anything suspicious, he wouldn’t be able to explain it.
After the longest few minutes of Guy’s life, the cop approached him again.
“I’d like to check your pin, sir.” He said, his face unreadable. “Place your chin on your chest, please.”
Officer Whoever took something from his belt. Guy’s heart skipped a beat, thinking it was a gun. Yet, it was something else, resembling a barcode scanner.
He’s gonna check my memory records. They’ll lock me up if they find out it’s been tampered with.
Officer Whoever reached for Guy’s head. The forty-nine-year-old, however, asked the cop to wait.
“I really need to get to my friend.” He tried, “I lied before, he’s pretty sick. I’ve already promised I’d visit a garage, so can I please go?”
“I’ll ask one more time, sir.” The cop’s voice seemed to have lowered even further, “Do I have your permission to scan your pin?”
It was at this point Guy knew what was going on; the cop was bluffing. He wasn’t allowed to check people’s pins without probable cause. Since walking around barefoot wasn’t a crime, he needed Guy’s verbal permission. The law must’ve been changed in the last three decades.
Guy gawked into Officer Whoever’s shades, aware of his clammy reflection. He had no choice but to try.
“No, I don’t give permission. You didn’t charge me with anythin’.”
Officer Whoever’s poker face was impenetrable, yet his shoulders slumped. It was only for an instant, but Guy knew he’d gotten his coup de grace.
Eventually the cop glanced at Guy’s feet again. “Put some shoes on. You’ll get frostbite like that.”
He walked past Guy and drove off. Only when the car had disappeared beyond the horizon did Guy dare to breathe. He stepped back into the Clifford, trying to escape the cold.
He could gather his thoughts along the way, he told himself. It was still two more hours to Ralph’s place. Hopefully, he still lived there.
***
The edge of his former hometown came into view. He was struck by how little had changed in thirty years. Sure, houses had gotten repainted and gardens looked different, but other than that it was perfectly preserved.
There was Main Street with its row of stores, their bricks all a slightly different shade of umber brown. The buildings were contrasted by low grassy mountains further towards the horizon. Guy nearly expected classmates hanging around their favorite spots. They must’ve been middle-aged now as well. They had careers. They had children. They might have already died.
Eventually Clifford pulled into Ralph’s neighborhood. His house didn’t seem much different either. The lawn was shabbier and there was no longer a car in the driveway. To Guy it was a good sign.
He jumped out after Clifford had parked itself. Ignoring the gravel driveway stabbing into his feet, he rang the doorbell. It was rung twice more for good measure.
A muffled voice came from the other side. Guy’s heart leapt; it was Ralph’s. His friend’s mouth turned circular when he opened the door.
Whereas Guy had quickly recognized his own aged face, he had to look twice for his friend. Ralph’s nose had gotten red and bulbous on his deeply lined face. He’d also added a few pounds.
At least his pimples had disappeared. Still, Guy couldn’t help but think he himself had aged a little better.
Ralph broke into a smile, shook Guy’s hand and waved him in.
The smell of cheap beer wafted through the living room. A coffee table was covered in empty bottles and closed curtains let in little of winter’s light. The place hadn’t been vacuumed in months.
Ralph’s still a messy dude, Guy thought. It’s even worse than thirty years ago.
There was an offer for a drink, but Guy didn’t have the patience left for pleasantries.
“Ralphy, you gotta help me. Remember that device you gave me yester...I mean when we were teens? After we’d messed up that statue in the park?”
Ralph laughed and extended a vertical hand. “Wow, hold your horses, buddy. I don’t see you all this time and now you come steamrolling in? Let’s sit down first, shall we?”
“Please, I need you to remember. Do you still have it?”
Ralph’s grin faded, happiness making way for confusion. “Why would you even bring that up?”
Guy sat on Ralph’s couch, raking his hands through his hair. How only now realized how exhausted he was. Sleep must’ve eluded him for over twenty-four hours. He needed to take a step back. Of course, Ralph didn’t understand what was going on.
“I used it that night, thirty years ago.” Guy said, looking up at his friend. “To get out of my father’s lecture.”
“I remember. You gave it back to me.”
Guy had to stop himself from doing a victory dance; he was getting a step closer to figuring out what to do. He asked Ralph again if he still had it.
The red nosed man looked at Guy for a long moment. “No, of course not. You made me promise I’d get rid of it. You never wanted to see the thing again.”
“Well, I do wanna see it now. Can’t you make another one?”
Ralph shook his head. “You were adamant. Even if you begged me, I wasn’t supposed to help you.”
Guy groaned, wondering why he’d said that. A possible solution was slipping through his fingers. He needed to lay his cards on the table.
“Ralph, I woke up a few hours ago.”
Ralph remained stoic, seemingly waiting for Guy to get down to brass tacks.
“I mean woke up.” Guy said, making wild gestures, “Like that normal consciousness you talked about. You walk around but don’t remember things?”
Ralph’s eyes quickly went from side to side, perhaps trying to make sense of Guy’s words.
After a few seconds it seemed to dawn on him. “Wait, you’re saying you used the device back then and only now continue memorizing things?”
Guy nodded.
“That can’t be!” Ralph exclaimed, “It worked for half an hour, tops. We used it to make hangovers go over faster.”
“Thirty minutes became thirty years, Ralphy. Thirty minutes became almost sixteen million minutes. Trust me, I did the math.”
Guy came close to choking up. Talking about his situation out loud made it all the more real.
Ralph narrowed his eyes. “You’re telling me you don’t remember anything since 2026?”
Guy’s silence spoke volumes.
The red nosed man rubbed his forehead. “No no no, that’s insane. Sure, sometimes there were accidents with those devices. It was on the news; some kids woke up after weeks. But years, that never happened.”
Guy spread his arms. “Well, livin’ proof stands before you, dude.”
Ralph paced around his living room for a minute, apparently trying to make sense of the situation. The only thing Guy could do was wait, hoping his friend would find a solution.
He halted, took a breath and looked his visitor in the eyes. “I’m sorry, Guy, I can’t change anything about this.”
Desperation twisted Guy’s stomach. He loudly asked whether another one of those devices could be made. Ralph placed his hands on his friend’s shoulders, telling him to calm down.
Guy was now on the verge of tears. “Ralphy, I just wanna get out of this mess. I woke up with this woman I’ve never met. We even have a kid. I’m not ready for anything like that, dude.”
“I understand skipping thirty years is overwhelming, but we can’t travel back in time. Those years are behind us.”
“No, they’re behind you.” Guy’s lower lip trembled. “They were taken from me. I never experienced college parties or falling in love or whatever.”
Ralph sighed heavily. “I wish I could whip out the device for you, but it was so long ago. I don’t even remember how I made the damn thing.”
It was at this point Guy noticed something in Ralph’s eyes. Even through all that aging, he recognized that twinkle.
“You’re lying, aren’t ya?” Guy asked.
Ralph averted his gaze. It was all the proof Guy needed.
“Guy, you’re in shock. Let’s have a few beers and we’ll—“
It happened before Guy was even aware of it. He grabbed Ralph by the lapels and shook him. “What aren’t you telling me?!”
Ralph tried to get Guy off of him, but failed. The barefooted man was in a lot better shape than his old friend.
“Alright, alright.” Ralph said.
Guy stopped shaking but his grip remained firm.
“I’ve still got the device hidden somewhere.”
“Why do you lie to me like that, huh? The one time I needed you and now you pull this little stunt.”
“Guy, let’s just…”
“Why?” Guy roared.
“Because of Karl, okay?” Ralph yelled back when it became clear Guy wouldn’t stop. “He’s dead!”
The twinkle had disappeared from Ralph’s eyes.
It took Guy a moment to picture Karl again, that dorky little kid who could never really keep up.
“Whadda you talkin’ about?”
“Some things are better left in that memory void of yours.”
Guy shook him again, more violently this time.
“One day Karl just collapsed.” Ralph said, helpless at this point, “He sat a few rows ahead of us in class. His body just stopped. That head of his slammed against his desk. I can still hear that thud sometimes. It turned out Karl’s pin had malfunctioned, basically frying his brain.”
Guy let go, watching Ralph rub his neck.
“His pin?” Guy said, “You mean...”
Ralph whispered as if the walls could hear them. “We were never questioned. I guess the police hadn’t realized we’d tampered with his pin. We got off scot free, but we always wondered.”
“We can’t know for sure if it was our fault.”
“That’s what got to us, that uncertainty. For thirty years we’ve been wondering if we were responsible for our friend’s death. That doubt is like a maddening itch inside your skull.”
Guy imagined Karl in that classroom, eyes bulging and people screaming around him. It was a figment of the imagination rather than a memory. Still, it did enough to frighten him.
“You made me push that button.” Guy said, “It was all you.”
“Oh, you don’t have to tell me. But that didn’t stop you from feeling guilty as well. Sometimes I thought you took it harder than I did.”
Guy asked what happened to his teenage self after that.
“You turned your life around, having witnessed how short it can be. You excelled at school and found a nice job. Hell, you even married that catch Amanda Fields. And to top it all off, now I see you drive a Clifford. Let’s face it, you succeeded.”
“What about you?”
Ralph’s gaze turned to the garrison of empty beer bottles on the coffee table. “Let’s just say I reacted differently.”
“So, because of Karl’s death I asked you to get rid of the device. But you didn’t.”
Ralph’s body deflated in defeat. “I thought about taking it apart to figure out if it did kill Karl. But all these years I’ve been too scared of what I might find.”
Guy balled his fists in triumph. “It can return me to the memory void. I don’t have to deal with this mess.”
“Then what?” Ralph asked, “You’ll wake up in another thirty years, when you’re approaching eighty. Or worse, you’ll have your brain fried as well.”
“Don’t care. Anything’s better than this!”
“You can’t risk it. You have a family to take care of now. It might seem as if they were forced upon you, but you accepted those responsibilities yourself.”
Guy’s chance of escape was about to fly out the window. He smashed an empty beer bottle on the edge of the coffee table, pointing the broken end at his former friend. If he had to scare Ralph to get his way, so be it.
“Gimme the device. I’m not askin’.”
Ralph seemed to age another ten years at the sight of the makeshift weapon.
“Guy, please...”
The barefooted man approached his host, the broken glass now dangerously close. Eventually Ralph gave a barely noticeable nod.
Guy was led into the basement. The device was in a drawer of a workbench. Ralph pressed it into Guy’s hand like he’d done thirty years earlier.
A thought of apology went through Guy’s mind, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
He climbed the stairs when Ralph spoke up. “Your father would’ve been ashamed of you.”
Guy stopped at the top step, digesting Ralph’s words. He said would’ve, didn’t he? Past tense. He’d been so caught up in finding a solution, he’d barely thought about his dad.
He turned. Sadness emanated from Ralph’s face. Even if Guy had a thousand years, he wouldn’t know what to say. Instead, he left the house, discarding the broken bottle. He ordered Clifford to drive him away from here.
Tears came, pouring down his face and onto his lap. There was no telling how long he sat there, his father’s face in his mind’s eye. Their last conversation, at least the one he remembered, went through his mind.
A person needs to take responsibility. Running away from it won’t help. In the end, ignored responsibilities return with sharpened claws.
Guy would’ve paid all the money in the world to talk to him again. He’d tell him he finally understood what his old man was trying to say.
He looked at the device in his hand. After that, he gave Clifford a destination.
***
He’d arrived. It was late afternoon and Guy was parked at the house he’d ran out of hours ago. Without being covered in shadows, he thought it looked kind of impressive.
Cold and weary to the bone, he stepped out. His feet were rubbed raw at this point.
The front door opened after he’d taken a few steps. The lady, Ralph had mentioned her name was Amanda, ran out, eyes wide with surprise.
“Guy, where have you been?” She took him inside, her movements conveying she wasn’t taking no for an answer.
He sat in a living room he didn’t recognize, a life he didn’t recognize. When Amanda’s eyes settled on his filthy clothes and feet, her angry expression dimmed.
She had plump cheekbones and a dimpled chin, curtained by her disheveled hair. He knew every memory of her had been deleted from his mind. Yet, somehow a sense of warmth and safety hung around her. It must’ve been love at first sight when they’d met, he thought.
His mind had stewed in sadness and embarrassment for hours. It now felt safe, somehow, to pour everything out with her. Before he could utter a word, another round of tears came. He wanted nothing more than to hold her.
Amanda embraced his drained body without hesitation, him laying his head against her stomach. She was warm, smelling vaguely of perfume, a remnant of the past.
Guy talked. He told her everything that had happened. From his conversation with his dad, thirty years ago, to the moment he’d put the unused device in Clifford’s glove compartment.
“I’m so sorry.” It was all he could say afterwards.
“You have no memory of me?” Amanda asked, concern thickening her voice, “Of our marriage? Of our kids?”
Kids? Plural? Guy thought.
Nevertheless, he took her hand. He had no idea why; perhaps it was an instinctive reaction. He might’ve done it so often it had become muscle memory.
“Why didn’t you just talk to me?” Amanda asked.
“I’m scared, so I ran away, like with my dad.” He said, “A house, marriage, a family...Jesus, I forgot how to deal with all this.”
“That doesn’t matter.” Amanda’s certainty lifted Guy’s spirits, “You’re a dedicated husband and father. Even if it takes us years to get that man back, it’ll be worth it.”
That look of determination in her eyes was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
“We’ll get through this.” She said, “We’ll just have to deal with this head on.”
“I’ll do my best, Amanda, I promise.”