Chapter 22
Brian was gone.
With his parents and the rest of the families, he’d gone back to Modesto to wrap up their lives there before they moved out here. They weren’t being given much time, because they’d be back here when school began on Monday. With them had gone a dozen personnel from the base to act both as security and to help with the move. Their furniture would arrive later, but all of them would be driving back here over the weekend with their clothes, necessities and other lightweight items that could fit in their vehicles. The Air Force would move their furniture and other possessions out over the next week.
While Brandon’s youngest sister had been the only holdout against moving, everyone else had been swayed by the town’s rustic charm, and the promise of no more men bursting into their homes and holding them at gunpoint. The final linchpin in their decision-making had been at the town-hall meeting that next night in Eureka. All of them had been invited to attend, and had been struck by the reaction of the locals to the events earlier in the week.
General Barstow, along with the Town Council (there was no Mayor at that time), the Sheriff, Mr. Mulkey, and my father had been on the stage in the high school gym (the only location capable of holding the entire town and farmers from the surrounding valleys. I had watched it unfold from the side of the stage, mostly out of the view of the people in the gym.
By the time the meeting began, the gym bleachers were full, as were all the extra seats set up. People stood at the side of the gym, mostly men who’d given their seats up for women, and watched as General Barstow began by explaining how the attacks in Modesto, which had been on the news almost non-stop, were related to what had happened here in Eureka.
“…so as you can see, this was a relatively isolated incident related to the AIDS Quarantine program.” General Barstow had concluded. “We reacted to ensure not only the safety of the Jones family, but this entire community. On behalf of the Air Force, I want to apologize for any inconveniences you experienced. Our people were ordered to treat everyone with respect and kindness, and if they failed in doing so, I’d appreciate knowing about it so we can correct that problem and apologize to you directly.”
“You don’t need to apologize for making sure we’re safe.” Old Jim Landers said as the General finished. Even with the crowded room, it was quiet as the man stood. He was one of the oldest living residents of the town, and his family had been here since the town was founded. His four sons owned two farms and one of the major feed suppliers for the area, making him a very important man. Also important, he owned about half the rental properties in town, and a third of the business properties. When he stood as he spoke, all eyes were on him. “When you government folks first started coming into town we were mighty worried for a bit, but you’ve proven yourselves to be good neighbors since then.”
“Thank you, Mr. Landers.” General Barstow said and the old man nodded at the General’s words before continuing with his speech.
“Reverend Jones has also proven himself to be a fine addition to this community as well.” Old Landers continued with an approving nod towards Dad. “That new Community Assistance Fund he set up has been a blessing to many in this town, and the fact that it’s given out so handily to everyone, not just his church members shows he’s a good man with good intentions of setting down permanent roots here. We like to see that, because until you folks came along this town was withering away slowly but surely.”
The ‘fund’ he referred to was one of my many compromises with Dad about the large amounts of money the dozen or so patents I now held were generating. Dad was quite insistent that I tithe ten percent of that money as per scriptural mandates, but we both knew quite well that millions appearing in the local church treasury would raise too many eyebrows. Some of the money went to various charities helping AIDS victims and ensuring families could visit them regularly, and most went directly into funding several private research projects into AIDS. The rest went to the local church (tripling their monthly income), and to the Assistance Fund. That ‘fund’ was designed as a gift to local citizens who were having trouble paying their electric bill, or buying groceries, or any number of similar things. Last month, we’d paid for an entire family to fly back to Ogden when a grandmother had passed away and they couldn’t afford the trip. One of the conditions of the fund was that anyone could ask for help, not just church members. The family that we’d helped most recently had been LDS, and that group within the community had not forgotten the generosity.
All expenditures were decided by my father and me, and like all the accounts
that he had a hand in, it required both of our signatures. My father in this
time line had proven to me that he could change for the better, but my trust
only went so far. He knew I still kept an eye out for certain… behaviors…
and while he chaffed at my watchfulness on occasion, he didn’t object.
“There’s just one thing in all this business that has us curious
and worried.” Landers continued carefully. “Now, we don’t
mean to pry, but you know in a small town like this one that rumors fly like
mad. I’d like you to clear up something for everyone here and now. When
all this happened, we understood why you might be worried the Jones family was
a target, and we totally accept the need to take them to safety. It was also
good that you later made safe some of the families closest to the Jones’s.
What we don’t understand though is why young Davey was taken first and
everyone else left for later. There’s even rumors he had a gun in school
and that worries us. We’re all good Americans here, and we deserve to
know the truth.”
“Mr. Landers, you don’t know how right that last statement is.” General Barstow said with a carefully modulated smile. “The Air Force could not have picked a better place to put this base, nor a better community to be a part of than you folks. You’ve shown me and my people that no matter what happens in the future, there are good, solid folks like you out here and that the spirit of our forefathers runs strong. That’s why what I’m about to tell you is something that you should keep to yourselves, within the limits of this town. It’s been a closely held government secret for years, and would place many people in danger if word got out. You’re being told, now, though, because like you said, you’ve been darn good neighbors and you’re all good Americans.”
“We’ll keep your trust, General.” Landers said with a forceful nod and was closely followed with a murmur of agreement. Sure, about half the people here tonight were active duty military, or married to someone in the military, but the rest were long-term residents and farmers who had spent most of their lives in the area.
“I’m sure you will.” General Barstow replied with a smile and he held his hand out to where I was standing at the stage alcove. We’d known this might happen, and the General had planned for it, even getting clearance for this. I took the cue and walked out on stage until I stood next to the General who then put his arm around me in a fatherly gesture. “Now, most of you know young Davey Jones here. He’s a smart kid and many of you know that he’s always at the top of his class. What most of you don’t know is that he was found to have possessed extraordinary genius in certain fields. His mathematics abilities are very high. The government always looks for young men like him, and works with them to bring their abilities to the fullest use possible. Normally, this happens at special schools, but Reverend Jones was hesitant to let go of his son. He wanted Davey to have as normal a life as possible. In these situations, we always try to work with the family, and in this case the excellent timing of the establishment of this base allowed us to do so here. Over the past two years, young Mr. Jones has received several patents for things that are being put into use by our military forces. They are very classified, so I can’t tell you what they are, but that is why he was removed first from the school. His… loss would be detrimental to the national security of our country. Now we’re not sure if it will be possible for him to continue at school what with…”
“Horse hockey.” Old Mr. Landers spat out, garnering several chuckles. “A kid’s got a right to be a kid as much as possible. If he’s some Einstein that’ll only look better when people know he’s from here. Besides, I hear he plays some mean football and we need him on the team.”
“Don’t forget baseball!” Another voice called that I barely recognized as being the parent of one of my classmates. I just couldn’t tell which one. That got a few more laughs.
“Well, that’s settled then.” General Barstow said as he removed his arm from around my shoulders. I blushed slightly and moved back to where I’d been standing by myself. Dad turned his head to wink at me.
“He’s welcome at school so long as he doesn’t forget sports!” Mr. Landers said as he sat down, getting some more laughs. Any tension in the room had been dispatched by the humor and people settled down for some questions and answers. Most of their questions dealt with what dangers might still exist, which the General downplayed.
After the official part of the town hall meeting had been completed, the gym had swirled as townsfolk broke into groups to talk about events, and to catch up on the latest gossip. My Modesto friends and their families had been surrounded by a group of townsfolk who started chatting with them. It was after that meeting that they all decided to make the move. Apparently they had been made to feel very welcome by the townsfolk they had talked with.
All that had been two nights ago. Since then, my own family had flown out of Eureka on a C-130 cargo plane. They were going back to Modesto for the funeral along with a dozen US Marshals to provide security for them. Dad had been the only one I’d seen before they’d left, and he had shown up on base when the mobile home he’d diverted had arrived.
It was a large model, nearly 2,500 square feet, and had been intended to be one of the newest models we’d offer to base personnel who had families and didn’t want to live on the base. Like the rest of the area, most of the base officer housing was made up of single and doublewide trailers. Except for the manufactured home used by the General, this new one for us (me, Ridgeway, and Sean) was the biggest on base.
Along with the two semi-trucks that delivered the new house, Dad had brought along a crew to put it together, and that had been followed by another truck full of my possessions, including my waterbed and the furniture from our model trailer. He’d brought the new stuff, instead of the older stuff we’d moved into storage last month.
We’d talked briefly while things were being prepared. He didn’t have much time, and he’d been very sad to tell me that Mom had just been getting worse. He only had a half-hour with me before he had to leave. After he’d gone, Marines monitored the work crews for the two days it took them to finish work.
Yes, Marines.
The President had said the base was going to be made more secure when we’d talked right after the events earlier in the week. He hadn’t been lying, and the day after the town hall meeting, C-130 cargo planes began landing. The first batch had carried two full platoons of soldiers with the basic equipment they’d need. Their mission was to provide for the security of the base, and General Barstow was not a happy camper with Marines on his Air Force Base.
The General didn’t have much choice, though, and he was slowly adapting to dealing with the Marine Colonel who was in charge of the Marines. Eventually, there’d be one hundred and two Marines stationed on base for security purposes, and they’d report to the Marine Colonel, a man named Marvin Marken. Colonel Marken was a grim, no-nonsense officer who disliked the idea of reporting directly to General Barstow, but was determined to make things work. It was the only Air Force facility with Marines to provide security, and the Air Force didn’t have the two centuries of experience in dealing with Marines that the Navy did.
Ironically, it had been me that had sat both officers down and helped them work out the protocols for cooperation. As an officer in the Navy, I had long experience with the Marine Corps and how to work with their officers. Colonel Marken had been briefed on me before his arrival, so he was at least willing to listen to what I had to say. After two years of being on and off this base, I also had a good idea of the differences in how Air Force officers worked. General Barstow wasn’t happy that all Marines would go to their Colonel for non-judicial punishments, and Colonel Marken wasn’t happy that all security arrangements had to be given final approval by the General, but things would work out eventually.
Luckily, the Air Force had planned ahead and built three more dorms for enlisted men than they’d initially needed. The Marines were remarking that they were being spoiled with dorm-style buildings that had two men per room instead of barracks-style accommodations with fifty men per space. Colonel Marken and his officers could be heard grumbling their men would go soft with the spacious, private rooms and that it would hurt unit morale in the long run.
Marines!
“You done yet?” Sean asked as he stuck his head into my new bedroom. I had just finished making my waterbed, which dominated this room as it had my other rooms. However, this one was slightly bigger and I realized I really should decorate it a little better this time. This model also had the large, luxury tub in the bathroom. While both Sean and Kevin Ridgeway had insisted I take the largest bedroom (and the only one my bed would fit in), they also demanded that they be allowed to use the luxury-model bathtub.
“Yeah, for now.” I answered Sean’s question. My weight set was in the extra room connected to my bedroom, along with another desk. My old desk/drawer/bookcase combination piece was against the right wall, and both walk-in closets were actually full of my clothing. I’d separated them into the two closets based on style, and was surprised at how much clothing I really had. The fact that I’d have to buy new clothing as I finished growing over the next several years didn’t bother me anymore, but it was a sign of how much I’d changed since my first life time.
“Well, good, Kevin’s back from town.” Sean said with a half-grin.
It was a Friday night, and Kevin Ridgeway had gone to town for Chinese food
and something to drink. Both Sean and I had decided we needed a stiff drink
after the bad week we’d had, and it was Sean’s first full day out
of the infirmary. We had spent most of the day at the base commissary buying
him clothes and other personal items he’d need. He had none of those things
now, and he knew better than to protest me buying something for a friend.
“Damn, I’m hungry.” I admitted. Sure, I should be depressed
right now because today had been the funeral for my family members, but I couldn’t
help but feel a little upbeat. Brian was coming back into my life, I actually
was moving into my ‘own’ home and while I loved my family, I now
had to admit that I’d been chafing at the bit imposed by living with parents,
even if they knew about me.
Plus, I was growing more and more surprised at how nice it was to have another person in my situation to talk with. Sure, Sean and I had been friends before, but now there was a special bond between us as adults stuck in the bodies of teenagers. He’d even remarked how he still felt weak and it had taken him two days to realize it was because his body wasn’t in the shape it had been in the last lifetime.
“When aren’t you hungry?” Sean demanded with a laugh as I followed him out into the dining area near the front door. The home was decorated very nicely with beige carpet, and nice furniture that properly fit into a show room more than a house with three bachelors. Kevin had taken the larger second bedroom while Sean was using the third bedroom closest to the door. Our ‘great’ room was now the perfect ‘playroom’ for guys with a large television (hooked up to the Air Force’s satellite entertainment system), the pool table from my basement, and several comfortable lounge chairs and couches. The living room had another television, my stereo system from the basement of our old house, and more show room couches and armchairs.
We were the last trailer at the far northern edge of the base with the radio transmitters along the western mountain range that marked the western boundaries of the base, along with their support buildings, and several slightly smaller trailers housing various Majors and Captains to our east. To the north was sagebrush until the base perimeter fence, along with a few light poles, some I knew had security cameras installed on them. In the distance, along the fence, the naked eye could make out the figures of marines patrolling with dogs. To the south were more officer and scientist homes, where personnel with families lived, and then the recreation center.
“It’s about time you got back.” I said sternly as Sean opened the door for Kevin, who was holding several bags. He just frowned at me as he made his way inside and set the bags down on the dark oak table. Sean laughed as he shut the door and went into the kitchen to get some plates for us.
“You have to get use to his sense of humor.” Sean said as he passed Kevin, who was glaring at me slightly. Kevin had been informed by Mike Andrews yesterday about Sean’s real story, and that made Kevin the fourth person in the world to know. Hopefully he’d be the last.
“I’m getting that.” Kevin said as he pulled a six-pack of beer out of a bag. I frowned at the stuff and began rifling through the other bags to find what I wanted. Sure enough, he’d gotten a nice big bottle of Jack for Sean and I, along with a two-liter bottle of coke. Kevin saw me smiling at the bottle and slapped my arm. “You better not get me in trouble for giving a minor alcohol.”
“Oh, please.” I smirked at him. “I got drunk with Prince Charles last summer so it won’t be a big deal.”
“Has he always been a name dropper?” Kevin asked Sean who was back in the dining room and setting down three places.
“Yes.” Sean said with a heavy sigh and I glared at him. “You should have seen him whenever he came back from some business trip. He’d talk about meeting Admiral So-and-So, or General Whats-his-name, or Prime Minister This, or President That. We all just learned to tune him out.”
“You what?” I gasped in horrid surprise. Sean was… sassier than I ever remembered him being and he just smirked at me.
“What’s the matter Davey, not use to having your bubble pricked in this time?” Sean taunted me and I had to resist the urge to give him a noogie. He never liked that and he hadn’t had a chance to get in shape yet, which meant I’d have a very unfair advantage.
“Do you two always pick at each other like this?” Kevin asked as he started getting out the Chinese food from the Eureka Café. I’d been concerned about our choice of dinner given how recent the events of the last time line was for Sean, but he’d been the one to suggest it. He’d said that Chinese food in China wasn’t nearly as good as what you could get in the United States.
“Someone has to deflate his head every now and then or he wouldn’t fit through the door.” Sean responded with a shrug and a smile. “I’m the only one left of our friends who can do that.”
“For now.” I asserted and Sean frowned slightly but didn’t say anything. He still insisted that our old friends, including his husband Brandon, weren’t the same people we had known. I’d agreed that they weren’t, but that they could be again with the right influences. Sean felt it was too late for that.
“So, how exactly is all this supposed to work?” Sean asked as we sat down and began to fill our plates. Harry’s garlic chicken smelled absolutely delightful.
“Well, you just play the normal role of a high school student.” I began before going into more detail. We chatted lightly over dinner, quickly switching back to the topic of the upcoming weekend. I had meetings on Saturday with General Barstow and Colonel Marken, and Sean had an all-day debriefing with Mike Andrews again. It would be his last one before Mike flew back to Washington and reported directly to President Reagan. In the early afternoon, David and Sam were coming out and we’d probably play a little basketball. Kevin had plans to head into Elko during the day, and he had a list from both Sean and me of stuff that we wanted him to pick-up. I’d even given him one of my credit cards with written authorization to sign for the stuff (if he needed it). Then he had a date Saturday night with a girl named Lisa Aldridge, who he had started seeing a few weeks ago. She was a townie who had graduated two years ago and never left like most other kids did after high school. She worked at Raines Market in town, which was how Kevin met her.
Sunday, all three of us were expected at church (Kevin mostly because Lisa Aldridge had started attending with her mother after they’d received a grant from the Fund to help them after her father died). Sean hated church with a justifiable passion, but agreed to go when I practically begged him, promising all the while that it wasn’t going to be like his past experiences. I also had a report to finish off Sunday about the long-term effects of poor maintenance on the SH-3 helicopter engines.
“Huh?” I asked again as I realized I’d missed whatever Kevin had been saying.
“Do you want to catch the game tonight?” Kevin repeated and I nodded vaguely. I really didn’t have any plans except to get drunk with Sean tonight. The funeral had been yesterday and I’d watched it on television. Uncle Phil had once again acted as the family spokesman, but I could only imagine the crap that was being said about me not being there among the family members. I’d cried myself to sleep the night before, and tonight I’d get drunk. After that, I’d put the whole mess behind me and just deal with whatever after-effects there were.
“Dude, this shit is hitting me hard.” Sean slurred about two hours later as we were sitting in the entertainment room watching television. Kevin was on his fourth beer, having refused any more than two shots of Jack Daniels. Sean was on his fourth drink after taking three shots right after dinner. I was about the same as Sean, and enjoying the numbing effects of the alcohol.
“Ish because of the differenshes in the body.” I slurred happily. “We’re kids again, not adults.”
“Tell me about it.” Sean grimaced, with a gesture towards his crotch. “I’ve been getting hard every time I see a cute guy, and on thish base that’s about every other guy.”
“Ah, dude, I did not need that visual.” Kevin groaned. Overall he’d taken the fact that Sean and I were gay pretty well, although I’d known he would.
“Oh cut it out Kevin.” I groaned aloud, and realized I’d said too much when he gave me a look full of curiosity. There was definitely too much alcohol in me because I most definitely shouldn’t have said the next words that tumbled out of my mouth. “You sure didn’t complain about guys finding you attractive when you were horny off the coast of Panama.”
“What?” Kevin gasped and Sean sat up a little straighter on the couch to stare at me. He smiled slowly after a moment though and leered at Kevin who was red-faced.
“Never mind.” I tried to get out of this, but Kevin’s glare forced me to speak some more. I took another sip of a too-strong mixed drink and ran my tongue over my lips. “It was in the first time-line, 1990. You were a first-class then, just getting ready to make Chief. One of my buddies on the PBR, Dalton, sucked your dick one night when your girlfriend wouldn’t put out.”
“You knew me from another time?” Kevin nearly shrieked in a girlish voice and Sean broke out laughing. I was chuckling too, though mostly because the well-built Navy SEAL was shrieking like a girl. “I wouldn’t…I never…wait! You said you were an officer!”
“That was in the second time line.” I pointed out with the exaggerated carefulness of a drunken man. “It was in the first time line I knew you. At first I wasn’t sure but I realized it was you a few days ago. For awhile, I couldn’t remember your name from that time line. It was a long time ago.”
“Ah, fuck.” Kevin said in an agitated state. He got up from his armchair and picked up the bottle of Jack from the coffee table. After taking a big gulp, he choked a little, but he nodded and sat back down in his chair to stair at me. “You got any more surprises for me in that brain of yours?’
“Nope.” I said matter-of-factly before leaning over with more caution to top off my glass with more Jack and a little coke from the bottle of coke on the table.
“God, I hated that first time line.” Sean muttered and I looked over at him with some surprise. His memories of that time line had been spotty at best beyond a few years before the first 2004. After his first time travel, he’d gone into a coma because the machine had been low on power and he hadn’t taken enough of the drug to render the transmission one hundred percent accurate. Those memories had been suppressed by his brain after he woke from the coma, only coming back to the surface a few years before the turn of the century. He’d insisted he only had spotty memories from before he started to work on the time travel project during the first time line’s 2001. “What? High school was a bitch that first time around.”
“Really?” I said with genuine interest.
“Yeah, really.” Sean’s voice held more than a tinge of anger. “I even remember you, you asshole.”
“Asshole?” I asked with surprise. Kevin was leaning forward in his chair, watching us with interest now.
“Yeah, you are an asshole, do you know that?” Sean pushed me and I sat back on the couch, pulling away from him slightly. We weren’t sitting close, just a few feet apart, but his angry glare made it seem like we were too close. “Okay, last time line you were just an arrogant prick who pranced around like the born-again savior of the entire world, which you did okay at, and you really were a nice guy who stuck up for people, but you weren’t that way the first time around.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked him, suddenly not feeling so drunk. The effects of his words were better than cold water on the face. “We were friends in Junior High?”
“Yeah, we were.” Sean muttered and looked down at his half-empty drink. With gusto he finished it off before reaching over and grabbing the Jack bottle. He then poured himself some more, straight whiskey this time, and took another sip before looking back at me with blurry eyes. “Tell me Davey, did you remember me at all from the Freshman year of high school?”
“No.” I answered after a moment. I really didn’t remember him from that first time line, it had been so long ago! “I remember you signing my yearbook in eighth grade but I don’t remember you after that.”
“That’s because we didn’t see each other all summer, and then when school did start, you were to busy with your ‘new’ friends.” Sean nearly shouted. “You had two classes with me and never even talked to me because you were hanging around the jocks then. The jocks and the fucking stoners that is.”
“Tyler.” I said, remembering a certain willowy, red-haired stoner from that time. Sean nodded at those words, though, and glared some more.
“When you weren’t getting stoned with him you were off with Brandon, Trevor, your precious fucking Brian, and the rest of the football team.” Sean continued angrily. “Do you remember what you guys did to me?”
“We didn’t do anything to you.” I retorted, but his look told me otherwise.
“Oh, come on, you don’t remember stuffing the little twerp into the garbage can?” Sean taunted me and I looked at him with wild eyes. I really didn’t remember doing any such thing. “Excuse me, oh wise master Davey, I didn’t shay that right. You didn’t stuff me in the can, Trevor and Brian did while you stood back and laughed. I remember that because you were on crutches and moved somewhere a few weeks later.”
“We moved out here.” I said softly as some vague memory of what he was talking about surfaced. I remember thinking I should have stopped it, but I didn’t. What was even worse was that I didn’t remember being friends with Sean at the time. He was just another little geek, a group I’d refused to remember ever belonging to at that point in time. I’d changed after that, and hadn’t put up with that crap when I returned later. It was one of the things that had put a rift between me and my old friends when I returned from Nevada. “Sean, I’m sorry.”
“Oh save it for someone who cares.” Sean said bitterly. “Do you have any idea what it was like for me? Of course you don’t. How could you? You’re so fucking tall and handsome and everyone loves you because you play sports and you’re smart at the same time. No one’s going to pick on you ‘cause they’re scared of how you’ll turn them into gravel if they do. In the last time line, they were more worried you’d humiliate them with your words in public than beat the shit out of them, but no one would face you.”
“I seem to remember a lot of court battles and protests.” I reminded him sharply he just chuckled.
“Oh, please.” Sean rumbled. “You had the goon squad with you the entire time. Do you know how many times Brian would go and whisper in someone’s ear in order to scare them? Sure, you might have influenced them to keep them from bullying every fag in school, but they still didn’t mind using their muscles to intimidate people. It would have been a lot worse if they hadn’t. Then, when you left for Washington with Brian and left us behind, it got bad for a bit. It was only Brandon and Trevor picking fights that kept things sane. I think the only reason Brandon did it was because he loved my fucking blow jobs.”
“Sean, Brandon was in love with you.” I said sharply and he stared at me with bitterness.
“So what?” Sean muttered before taking another big swig. “He’s dead now.”
“Brandon’s not dead.” I said firmly. “Sure, he’s not the same person with the same memories, but he’s still Brandon and he’s going to be moving here. You don’t have to wait two long years like I did!”
“Oh fuck off with that shit.” Sean said as he leaned back on the couch and closed his eyes. “It’s not my Brandon, you know. They’ve had two years without you around like you were last time and they’re even worse than they were the first time.”
“Brian’s not.” I said firmly. I’d spent time with Brian earlier this week and I knew he wasn’t that bad.
“Tell him you’re a fag and see how he reacts.” Sean muttered without opening his eyes.
“Fine, I will.” I said with conviction and Sean opened one eye to peer at me.
“You’ll be sorry.” Sean said with a shrug. “Sure, he won’t beat you up. You could wipe the floor with him now, but he ain’t going to fall into your arms either, just like Brandon won’t ever think about getting back together with me.”
“You’re wrong, Sean.” I said softly. “I know you never wanted to come back again, but you’ll see how much better it can be if you work at it.”
“I’m too tired to work at it.” Sean groused. “It’s all a pain in the ass. Besides, we’ll end up building another time machine eventually, you’ll go back and fix things all over again. Maybe they’ll get better, maybe they won’t, but when you go back I won’t have to deal with this shit all over again.”
“Yes, you will, because you’ll still be in that time line.” I pointed out to him. Maybe I should have refuted his statement about another Do Over, but I knew it was always possible. I didn’t want one, he knew that, but if it was my duty to do it again, I would.
“But it won’t be a version of me that remembers all these other time lines.” Sean muttered as he closed his eyes. “Look, Davey, like I told you back in China, not everyone is cut out to save the world. You are, so fine, you go be super-duper-extra-special-time-traveler-who-saves-the-world-again and let me be.”
“No one made you come back this time.” I said sourly. “You could have just let things go, cut the power and ceased to exist.”
“Like I could let another Chinese bastard go back without warning you.” Sean muttered, opening both eyes to glare at me. “You were nice to me in the last time, you did change my life, and that’s why I went back, both times, you bastard. Do you remember that it was me who chose you for that first fucking time travel experiment?”
“Yes.” I answered softly, not sure where he was going.
“I recognized you immediately, no matter what I might have said before.” Sean said slowly and with emphasis on each and every word. “The last guy who we tried to send back died before the machine could finish scanning his brain. We had his body hidden in a back room. Then we chose you. I picked you because I thought you were going to die. You might have forgotten that trashcan incident with your buddies, but I didn’t. I picked you not because we were friends once, but because I thought you were going to die and one day in the past you had laughed as your one-time friend was stuffed in a trash can!”
“Oh shit.” Kevin said softly, reminding me that we weren’t alone. Sean glared at him for a second, before turning back to me.
“Sean, I’m sorry that I ever laughed…” I started to apologize in the silence that followed.
“Fucking can it.” Sean muttered to me. He stood up on wobbly legs and started to leave the room, but he stopped to look back at me. “I fucking forgave you, you know. When I read those logs of Brian of how you got me, the me from the second time line to fly in a plane, how I hooked up with Brandon, when I read all that, I forgave you. I don’t know why my memories later re-surfaced, but I can’t help still thinking about those things. Just forget I said anything and life will be fine.”
“Sean…” I started to say but he cut me off with a negative chop of his hand and he stumbled out of the room. I turned back around, took a sip of my drink and stared at the television.
“Dude, this is way too much drama.” Kevin said softly after we’d sat there for nearly twenty minutes in silence. “I am never getting you two drunk again.”
“Shut up, Ridgeway.” I muttered before getting up shakily and heading to my waterbed. He was right though; it was reasons like this I hated getting drunk.
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