Chapter 38
“Do you think we’ll see them on TV?” Jenny asked as we sat down on the plush couch in front of the cabinet that held the television. We were both dressed for bed, with me in red cotton pajama bottoms and a dark green knit shirt. She was wearing her lace pink nightgown, and had taken her hair out of the pigtails she’d worn earlier today. She let out a yawn while waiting for me to answer her question.
“We can try.” I said after a minute of thought and began pushing on the huge remote in my hands. The thing was heavy, and couldn’t do half of what a remote ten years from now could do, but it was still a television remote, something not exactly common in January of 1981.
“Yuck” Jenny said as the television came on to show Charlie’s Angels. Why my sister didn’t like the show, I’d probably never know but she hated it with a passion. I changed the channel quickly. Behind us, the circular window showed the night sky and I knew it was freezing cold outside, like most January nights in
“Is that the one they’re at?” Jenny asked excitedly as she curled up on the couch and tucked her legs under her. She encircled her arms around my right arm loosely. She was excited, as she had a right to be. Truth be told, I was excited as well, and for most of the same reason.
“I think so.” I told her and she leaned forward a bit to get a better look.
“There they are!” She shouted with glee as the commentator on the screen shut up for the speech ‘Uncle Ron’ was giving at that moment. Our parents were standing with several other people flanked behind the President, mostly people who would be filling key posts in the President’s Administration.
“Mom looks so pretty in her dress.” Jenny said in an excited voice that bordered on being breathless. She was right. Mom did look stunning in her ball gown, and Dad looked very fine in his tuxedo, complete with tails. He’d lost a lot of weight in the last four years, and the part of me that had lived through those years whispered that Dad had taken up running to spend more time with me whenever he was home.
He’s a good father.
“Dad looks good too.” I said and Jenny gave me a sound something like ‘uh-huh’.
“The President will start the dancing off tonight with the first lady…” The commentators annoying voice cut in as the President finished his short speech.
“Oh, will Mom and Dad dance too?” Jenny asked and I shrugged my shoulders while the President danced with his wife to a piece of classical-style music I couldn’t quite place. What came after their dance surprised me, a bit, as the President went over and invited my mom onto the dance floor. Dad stood there for a surprised moment before realizing he should be asking the First Lady to dance, and moved to ask
“Oh boy, oh boy!” Jenny kept shouting in a loud enough squeal that a Secret Service agent looked into the room for a moment to see what was going on. He smiled before closing the door behind him. It was a big honor for us to be staying in the White House on the night of the inauguration, but I also knew my parents had earned that honor.
Over the last four years, Mom had started her own business as a major fundraiser. Basically she would put on eight or ten fundraisers a year, more during elections years, raising millions of dollars for candidates, mostly in
A year ago, she’d bought the house from Papa (and me, although my name wasn’t on the deed). On the way back from the lake a few days ago, Papa had gotten me caught up to date on the state of my accounts, and I was surprised at how much was still there. Apparently Mom had paid me back for the furniture and some other things as well. She’d told Papa to make sure that money was there for when I went into business for myself; that she’d be more than capable of sending me to college and covering my expenses growing up.
Since she was now a millionaire in her own right, just from her fundraising activities, Papa hadn’t doubted her word on that at all.
With my adult memories restored to me, I was able to think a little more clearly and analyze the relationship of my parents. In the few days since I’d been awake, and through the memories I shared with the younger personality of mine, I had seen my parents in a relationship dynamic that I’d never seen before. I thought my father’s entry into politics would have caused some changes in my family, but I’d never really expected something like this.
They were happy together, both with each other and with our family as a whole. Even in the last timeline where things had been better (up until the murder of my grandparents by the Chinese), there’d still been arguments and flat-out yell-from-the-bottom-of-their-lungs fights, but those weren’t anywhere to be seen in this timeline. My father was considered one of the top Republican lawmakers in
My mother was the top fundraiser for Republicans in the State of
Both of them worked out of
“We better get to bed.” I said as Jenny let out a big yawn. The coverage was shifting now, leading to a discussion on the cabinet the President was naming. Dad had been a key advisor on the incoming President’s Transition Team, and I knew he must have had some influence on the people chosen. Certainly, two of them were different than I remembered, although both were relatively minor posts in Education and Veterans Affairs. Surprisingly, I learned just as I switched off the television, the Health and Human Services cabinet post still hadn’t been named. Why, I didn’t learn since the television was already off, but Jenny was pouting at me.
“I want to stay up and see Mom and Dad again!” She whined and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. At least this hadn’t changed. My sister could still whine with the best of them.
“We aren’t supposed to be up at all and you know that.” I argued with her and she stuck her tongue out at me.
“I’ll tell Mom and Dad you let me stay up and turned on the TV.” She threatened me and I smiled.
“If you do that, they’ll never leave us alone like this again.” I countered, and from the look of shock on her face, she hadn’t considered that. “Then you’ll never get a chance to do this again. Go ahead, see what happens.”
“I hate you!” Jenny shouted as she stomped her foot and stalked off towards her bedroom. I let myself chuckle as I put away the remote, shut the cabinet doors that would conceal the television and headed into my room for the night. It may have been slightly more than four years, but those years had made a big difference and I lay in that bed thinking about all the differences long after my parents came stumbling into the main room before heading off to their own bedroom room.
No child, no matter his age, should ever have to listen to his parents celebrate like that.
Morning came far too early for me as my mom roused me out of bed. Really, it was better her waking me up than Dad with his rendition of “Yes we have no bananas today!” or some other silly song. No matter the timeline, those things irritated me to no end. By the time I got showered, dressed in a dark blue suit with a red tie, and headed down to breakfast, I was the last to arrive.
“Glad to see you could join us this morning.” Dad said with a smirk on his face as I joined them at the breakfast table. Nancy Reagan and Mom were sitting across the table from him while my sister sat at the foot of the table, already chowing down on a muffin and bowl of Rice Krispies. The new President was long gone already, his first day as President having begun early as he prepared to greet the returning Iranian hostages later in the day. I took the empty seat next to Dad as a White House butler set a bowl of cereal and a bran muffin down in front of me, next to the already waiting orange juice.
“Good Morning, Dad, Mom, Mrs. Reagan, Jenny.” I said to each of them in turn before bowing my head in a silent prayer. My prayer was a real one as today would be the make or break event of this Do Over for me. “Was last night fun?”
“We had a good time.” Mom said with a flirtatious smile at my father. This was almost obscene. I could never remember them being so openly flirtatious before. A frown filled my face for a split second as I rubbed my temple with my right hand, assuaging the headache before it could really form.
“You feeling okay, son?” Dad asked me with a hint of concern in his voice.
“Just a little bit of a headache.” I admitted and I could see instant worry on his face, but he didn’t push any further. Having his son in a coma for two months wasn’t something a man easily forgot, even four years later. “I think I didn’t sleep too well last night.”
“Oh.” Dad said softly.
“Do you want some aspirin?” Mom asked me with a worried look on her face.
“It’s gone now.” I told her as I took a sip of orange juice. The smile on my face told her everything was fine and she turned back to say something in a low voice to Nancy who was looking slightly confused.
“You don’t have to go with me after all, if you don’t want.” Dad offered and I shook my head.
“I’d really like to be there.” I told him eagerly. “I want to see you and Uncle Ron, I mean the President, have this talk. It’s something I’ve been looking forward to for a while.”
“As long as you behave yourself.” Dad said with an indulging smile. “Remember the conditions we set for you to be there. It’s something really unusual, you know.”
“I know.” I assured him with another smile. “I’m just supposed to watch, not say anything unless I’m spoken to, and not to interrupt anything.”
“And?” Dad prompted and I smiled.
“I’m not to tell anyone anything about what I might hear except what is released to the public.” I finished with a wide smile and followed it with a frown. “Really, when was the last time I let you down?”
“Let’s see,” Dad said and paused dramatically as I took a bite of my Frosted Flakes. “How about the time you and Sean took off on your bikes and ended up in Oakdale?”
“Dad!” I protested in a voice that started to crack. Oh yeah, puberty was really moving into full swing now. “That was eight months ago!”
“Oh, was it?” Mom added with one of her award-winning smiles and then looked over at Nancy who was smiling broadly. “What about when Sean and you took off down the slope from below the house to go fishing in the river instead of just walking down the path?”
“Mom!” I protested with a much more noticeable crack in my voice as the three adults laughed, mostly at my outraged expression.
“Or how about the time you convinced Ronnie to let you go riding by yourself?”
“The horse could have been hurt!” Jenny added with an outraged grimace and I glared at my tattletale of a sister.
“Well, I’m having second thoughts now.” Dad said in what I hoped was a mock-serious tone.
“Dad, please!” I practically begged him, just in case he seriously was considering not letting me go to his meeting this morning. “I promise! I’ll be good! Please!”
“Since you put it that way, but you better keep your promise.” Dad warned me and I had to let out a big sigh, which only amused the adults at the table quite a bit.
“Dad, I promise I won’t misbehave.” I told him, figuring the wording would be accurate. I’d really hate to have to break my promise, although I knew his thoughts on me would be changing soon enough, in many ways.
“Well then, finish your breakfast.” Dad told me sternly, but with a warm, fond smile as he ruffled my hair. “We’ve got less than twenty minutes.”
“At least it’s a short walk downstairs.”
Ten minutes later, I’d finished my breakfast just in time as Dad rose from the table and gave Mom a hug before heading towards the door. I got my own hug from Mom, as well as a dutiful admonishment to behave before following my father out the door. A young intern was waiting for us in the hallway and he led the way down the residential staircase and across several public and private sections of the White House before we entered the West Wing. I could have led the way better, from past experience but I did my best to not think about those memories.
Why bring on a headache?
“The President is just wrapping up now.” The Presidential Secretary told us as we entered the small offices right outside the Oval Office. She was a woman in her mid-fifties, and I could have remembered her name but I didn’t bother. It wasn’t important either. There were more important things happening in a few minutes for that, I knew as the door to the Oval Office and some very familiar figures exited, each of them greeting my father as they passed by us in a hurry. We were shown in to the Oval Office and the President met us just inside the room’s entrance, posing with Dad as they shook hands and the official photographer recorded the moment for posterity.
“Give me a hug, Davey.” The President said to me as the photographer was escorted out by the Secret Service agent who closed the door as he left us alone in the room.
“Congratulations, Uncle Ron.” I said as I gave him a hug. He was chuckling as he wrapped me in a bear hug.
“Thanks for remembering to not call me Mr. President.” President Reagan said fondly as he broke the hug, but kept an arm wrapped around my shoulders as he guided us towards the two couches and coffee table in the middle of the room. “David, why don’t we sit down over here?”
“Yes, Mr. President.” My father said with a slight emphasis on the title and a smile on his face.
“I assume you know why I wanted to talk to you today.” Ronald Reagan said as he sat down on one of the couches with me next to him and my father on the couch across from him. Somehow a butler had already set out three cups of coffee, each made the way each person liked their coffee. Mine had just the right amount of milk and sugar in it, as I expected it would when I saw the cups. There was a file folder, marked “Top Secret” next to Dad’s cup.
“Mr. President, I’ve already told you that I wish to decline the offer to join your cabinet as Secretary of Health and Human Services.” Dad said with a small sigh and a very slight frown. His eyes were locked on that folder, though and my curiosity was piqued. “I am honored at the offer, but my family and I would rather remain in
“Why don’t you go ahead and read what is in that folder. I’m not going to offer you the position. We’ve found someone else to take it and I’ll be announcing that later today. Instead I want you to handle a very sticky problem our country is facing. I think you’re the right man for the job, and the position will just be a ‘Special Assistant’ position. It should only take a year or two, and then you can go back home to
The memories I called up to answer his questions didn’t cause a headache as I answered him with the excitement that filled me up every time I thought about the upcoming baseball season. Try-outs were just a formality for me, the star pitcher in my league, and I had to explain that while I was honored to be offered a spot on the bigger team, I didn’t want to leave the friends I’d made on the local league either.
“Oh dear Lord.” Dad breathed as he read and I turned to look at him. There were actual tears welling in his eyes as he looked at something in the folder and the President nodded before turning back to me and asking me how my work on my slider pitch was going. My answers weren’t really detailed as a part of my mind raged to know what Dad was looking at, and making several small comments under his breath. When he closed the folder, I stopped talking as the President silently turned to face my father.
“Well?” The President asked in a single word and my father looked at me.
“My family should know why it’s necessary we make this sacrifice.” Dad said with a slight frown and I felt my stomach roll over. This was not part of my plan, but his next words eased the sinking feeling I was having. “I think…Mr. President, I don’t understand why you want me, but if you truly think I’m the man for the job, I’ll take it.”
“You are the right man, David. Of all the people I know, you have the right amount of compassion for those who are sick, and it’ll be a chance to flex your skills in the international arena as well as here at home. I also agree your family should know the full reason for your taking the position.” The President explained with a nod. “It will only take a year or two and that would leave you free to run for Governor as we all know you plan, and your taking this position won’t hurt you when people see the importance of the work. If you want to show Davey here the file, you have my permission. Davey, you understand what Top Secret means, don’t you?”
“Yes, sir, I do.” I told the President with a solemn nod.
“I’m not sure he’s old enough to see some of these pictures.” Dad said with a frown, but he only paused a moment before handing the file across the table. The President took it and handed it to me. It only took me a minute of skimming through it as the two adults watched for me to realize just what was contained inside, and some scope of what Dad would be doing in that position. I also agreed with the President that my father was the man he wanted to spearhead this project. The last timeline alone proved that beyond the shadow of a doubt. Hopefully this time he wouldn’t be shot making the difference.
Besides, it was my own fault this was happening now, in this way.
“I think you need to do this, Dad.” I told my father who looked at me with some surprise but I didn’t give him time to say anything else as I turned to the President and stood up, reaching into my jacket and pulling an envelope out of my inside pocket. “Mr. President, I think now is the moment when you should read this.”
“Davey, you don’t need to call me…” The President started to say, but the expression of calm determination on my face silenced him. He took the envelope out of my hands, opened it neatly and unfolded the letter inside. My legs were almost shaking as he read for almost two full minutes, and my father stood and circled around so that he stood on the President’s other side. It was his turn to wait with curiosity burning him up, but no one said anything as the letter dropped from the President’s hands and he looked up at me in total surprise.
“How…how did…how do you know that?” The President asked me while his face drained of all color and his mouth worked to get the words out from around his surprise.
“You told me, sir.” I answered him as I bent over to pick up the letter and handed it back to him. “Mr. President, please finish the letter.”
“Yes.” He said quickly, and read through the whole thing again. My father was trying to look at the paper, but the President was holding it at an angle that wouldn’t let that happen.
“What’s going on here?” Dad asked in a voice that let no one doubt he wanted to know what I’d done to get this reaction out of the President. My father was looking decidedly angry, anxious, and worried now.
“I…I almost wish this was a joke.” The President said as he finally found his voice after reading through the last of the letter. He looked up at me with an almost haunted expression while Dad actually moved to try to get a look at the letter. My father didn’t get that chance though as the President folded it and put it in his lap while studying me closely. “You don’t look any different.”
“It doesn’t work that way, sir.” I answered his question calmly. Of the three, this time I’d had this conversation with him was by far the most odd. My father had never been here before, and he was making his presence known.
“What is going on here?” Dad repeated in a low, angry tone. The question and tone were directed at me, but it was the President who responded.
“Just a minute, David.” He told my father as he stood, passed me with a wary eye and went to his desk. There he took a letter opener out and used it to cut a certain passage out of the letter before returning to the couches and handing the rest of the letter to my father. The part he’d cut out, he crumpled up and put into his own pocket. I was sure he’d burn it later. “You don’t need to see that part, just know that what it said was accurate and not something I’ve ever told anyone.”
“Okay.” Dad said in a long, low breath as he began reading the letter. The President sat back down, but made no indication for me to sit down so I remained standing.
“Davey, um, is that…” The President began but faltered and I nodded at him.
“I’ve always preferred Davey, sir.” I assured him and he nodded slightly while my Dad looked up from the letter and gave me a sharp glare.
“The letter, you dated it in September of 1976, why?” The President asked as Dad let out a startled gasp as he reached the last few paragraphs of the letter.
“I wasn’t supposed to go back that far, actually I was supposed to arrive just a year ago.” I said as Dad finished the letter and stared at me with a mixture of shock, fear and concern. He was brimming with questions, but the President’s would have to come first. “As I mentioned in the letter, it was World War Three when I last left the future. More than likely, the Soviets were nuking the base when the process began and it threw the targeting off. I went back almost five years earlier than we planned. The brain of a child that young can’t really hold the memories of an adult. It causes all kinds of problems and I knew I’d lose the memories at least temporarily at first, but more than likely it’d eventually become permanent.”
“You’re still my son, though?” Dad asked in a concerned tone. “What happens to my real son?”
“I am your son, not just in the here and now, but as I’ve been your son through three other timelines.” I answered my father when the President didn’t immediately say anything. “Until the moment I came back in time, there was no difference whatsoever between my original lifetime, and this one. It was only after I came back that things began to become different. To be honest, you’re a far better father than I’ve ever had in any of the other timelines.”
“And the changes you made in 1976 made that difference?” The President interrupted before Dad could say anything. My father’s face was slightly angry but he held his peace while the President spoke.
“I might have been the catalyst, yes.” I admitted with a shrug. “The real changes though, they were made by my Papa and my father himself. All I did was tilt the rock in a slightly different direction as it was rolling down hill. That’s the key to this time travel thing.”
“How’s that?” Dad demanded, although he looked only slightly less angry.
“We can’t control what the results of any changes will be.” I said in a carefully neutral tone. “For instance, in the last few timelines I was able to share advanced knowledge not just about social, political, and military issues, but about technology as well. We made leaps forward that would have taken decades longer in some cases, but it didn’t keep us from having to fight a Third World War in both changed timelines that was never fought in the original. In one timeline, because my family lived in a new location, my sister and mother died when a drunk driver hit them on Christmas Day, making a trip they never had to make in the original timeline. Instead of living for another few decades, they both died while I was still a teenager. It was just an auto accident, something I couldn’t have known about, but it was a change that we’d made consciously that had caused them to be in the car.”
“What changes exactly have you made so far?” The President demanded in a no-nonsense tone.
“Not too many, and only the barest of nudges.” I told him and then went on to give a more detailed answer. I was already rubbing my temples again, and I could see Dad get a concerned look on his face. “When I realized these damn headaches, and yes, they’ve come back and yes they’re caused by the adult memories in a brain that can’t handle them, would mean that I’d eventually lose the adult memories before this day, I set in motion certain things. First, it was important that my family be in a position where I could get into a meeting with you, Mr. President, without it appearing too odd. Dad, in the last timeline, you first ran for office in the early 1980’s, and you told me once that you’d realized then that it was what you should have been doing all along. You were good at it, and you gave me some ideas to use to convince you to run again, except we thought it’d be in 1980, not 1976.”
“Then you’d be better able to get a private meeting with me without…let’s see…how did you get to where you’d meet with me to discuss this?” The President asked and I smiled slightly, although it was tight with a little pain.
“The first time was after the scientist who invented the machine came back, got sent to a mental institution and died while trying to escape from there.” I answered honestly. “After his death, they figured out he’d been telling the truth and he’d given them my name. You met with me while you were trying to decide what to do with me. The last time I called a CIA office that was actually set up in case something like this ever happened.”
“The CIA really has an office just in case someone comes back in time?” The President actually chuckled as he spoke but he sobered when I just nodded and he shook his head. “Well, actually, I guess it isn’t as far-fetched as it sounded at first.”
“No, it’s not after all.” I said with a slight smile.
“I’m still not funding SETI.” The President said firmly, referring to the Search for Extra-Terrestrial Intelligence, but then he frowned as he looked at me with a question on his face, but not one he was going to verbalize.
“Still no little green men, or gray for that matter, have shown up as of 2004, the latest year I’ve lived to see.” I said with a smile and a shrug. “Although, if I have to live through one more lifetime without seeing Episode III I’m going to freak.”
“Episode III?” Both men asked in puzzled tones and this time I chuckled.
“Star Wars.” I answered them and their looks grew more puzzled. “Star Wars was Episode IV: A New Hope. Empire Strikes Back was Episode V, and Return of the Jedi will be Episode VI. In the late 1990’s George Lucas goes back and makes Episodes I, II, and III, except III isn’t scheduled to be out until 2005. I’ve lived through over seventy years now and still not seen the damn movie. I want to see it this time.”
“Oh.” They both said and looked at me like I was slightly crazy, but then I could almost understand that.
“Let’s get back to how you’ve changed things here so far.” The President said after a moment of silence and I nodded.
“When I found myself in 1976, my family was in a far different situation than I’d expected to find in 1980.” I began carefully. “After doing some thinking, I realized the biggest hold-up for Dad moving into politics was a lack of money. From my memory of our original life, I knew he and mom patched things up and we all moved back into a house together, but if he was going to have any chance of running for public office, he’d need money to do that.”
“So you gave your grandfather the winning scores to the Super Bowl.” The President supplied, surprising me a little. “He then set up a fund for you controlled by your attorney, Steven Jacobs, and you used that to loan your father’s campaign nearly forty-thousand dollars, and to help fund the purchase of the house your family now lives in.”
“Yes.” I said with some surprise.
“The FBI thought it was a little odd, but could find nothing illegal in any of that when they did the background check on your father.” The President answered my unspoken question.
“Oh.” Dad said from where he still stood across from me. His face was a little paler now, and he was a lot more subdued, but he was still watching me closely.
“The headaches began soon after that and I knew I wouldn’t have long until my body, my brain, shut down.” I continued carefully. “From past experiences of another time traveler, I knew that those headaches meant I’d eventually go into a coma for a month or two. After the coma, I’d wake up and most, if not all of my memories would be gone.”
“That’s what happened right before that first election!” Dad said as he slapped his fist into his palm. I nodded at him and the President, who was leaning back on the couch looking at me with a careful, appraising look.
“You obviously regained those memories.” The President said carefully and I nodded again while rubbing my temple.
“For a little while.” I agreed. “The headaches have already started again. A lot of those memories are gone, I can tell. There are things I can remember and there are things I don’t, but know I should.”
“Like what?” Dad asked me with a hint of concern in his voice.
“If I could remember, I could tell you.” I said with a little bit of exasperation and realized I should apologize as his face clouded with anger. “Sorry, it’s a little frustrating. I can remember I use to be able to draft out the complete circuit diagrams of the Aegis computer control system on our warships, but now I just remember once being able to do that. Heck, when I first came back in 1976 I could remember sports scores without a problem and now I have trouble remembering what teams played in next year’s Super Bowl. That’s why I wrote everything down. There was a chance I’d ‘wake up’ at least one time before the memories were all lost forever, but I couldn’t risk it happening.”
“What exactly did you write down?” The President asked me as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees and his jaw on clenched fists.
“The most important thing is this.” I told him as I pulled another envelope out of my pocket and handed it to him. He took it, but didn’t open it right away. “In there you’ll find the names of every person who comes back in time and how to find them. With the information in there, you can find and kill them before they come back in time.”
“Why would I want to do that?” The President asked as he looked at the unopened envelope.
“Time travel is the biggest danger to not only our country, but the entire world.” I answered him in a deadly voice. “The men listed in that letter are a danger to our country’s safety, and the entire world’s. They must die.”
“What about you?” Dad asked me with an appraising look.
“If I wasn’t already losing these memories, I’d suggest my name be on the list.” I told him softly. “It’d be safer for everyone involved. The truth is, right now I couldn’t make another time machine that worked. In a few days, or a few weeks, even the memories I have now will be gone. I’d bear watching, but this time when they’re gone they’re most likely going to stay gone. In the past when this happened to someone else, their memories were gone forever after they came back briefly. I wouldn’t blame you if you added my name to the list, but either way, I’m certain that as long as everyone on that list dies within the next three months, no one will be left who knows how to make time travel happen.”
“What if something happens that might need to be…fixed?” President Reagan asked after the room had been silent for several long minutes.
“I think that’s been part of the problem with the last two time lines, Mr. President.” I answered after taking a very deep breath. “We sought to build another time machine, always using the concept that it was ‘just in case’. Every time a time machine has been built, it’s been used. Worse, because it was being built, we took risks we might not normally have taken. In the last 2004, that led to war with the Chinese, and the awful discovery that they had a time machine completely built while ours was still a month away from completion. In the last time line, we were the only country with the technological capability to build a time machine, and because we were building one, the Soviets and Chinese started an all-out nuclear war. You died on the first day of that war, Mr. President, when
“You’re saying we’re less likely to need a machine like that if one doesn’t exist than if one does exist?” The President asked slowly and carefully.
“That is correct, Mr. President.” I answered with as much certainty as I could put into my voice. Naturally that was the moment it chose to crack.
“I don’t understand all this, really.” Dad said in a soft voice, his gaze penetrating into me as my eyes met his. “I’m… part of me wants to demand to know what is happening to my son, while another part of me realizes you are my son, but what happens… you said the headaches are returning?”
“Yeah, it’s getting pretty bad already.” I said with a slight wince at some fresh pain.
“What happens… how will… what will you be like after the memories are gone?” Dad asked with a great deal of concern filling his voice.
“I’ll be the same as I was before.” I told him gently. “You’ve always commented about me being mature for my age most of the time. I’ll always be that way, but once the memories are gone, well a lot of being an adult is that we have more memories, more experiences to draw from than kids do. With those gone… well let’s just say I might be able to enjoy being a kid a bit more. Some times I might remember little flashes, kind of like déjà vu, but it won’t be more than a fleeting moment.”
“I see.” Dad said carefully and it was the President’s turn to say something, but I lost track almost immediately as the room swam a bit, and my legs became like jelly before I collapsed to the floor. The last sound I heard was Dad’s voice, sharp with concern calling my name out.
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