Remember Me (45 page)

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Par t II

Time Heals All Wounds

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Last twenty years.

May 22nd, 2010

There was no
big birthday party planned this time around.

The place of the event might have been the same, but the environment was entirely different. Twenty years had rolled by at a snail’s pace. When you know what’s going to happen, time doesn’t speed up it drags you unceremoniously along. They like to say that time changes everything, or give it some time, or it will all wash out in time, along with hundreds of other sayings. I’ve come to know time differently and more personally than anyone ever has. The only constant truism is: Time Marches On. I have several new ones to add, but I don’t believe they will catch on. My favorite is, “Time is one great big pain,” or even, “it’s about time”…figuratively of course, and literally when I’m feeling exasperated.

I can’t say that the last twenty years have been all bad, not really. In many ways they were fulfilling, but they were never my twenty years, no matter how hard I tried to be a part of it, or how badly I wanted it. I am a timely outcast, never fitting in, never truly accepted. For me, it was like being in a semi-dream state, watching yourself from unseen eyes as the scene played out. I sometimes wondered if this was how God saw the world he made. I was always in that state of déjà vu. “Haven’t I already done this before?”

There were far more tears than laughter. The people I loved suffered the most, even those with whom I had no contact.

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Brian L. MacLearn

Andrew and Tami stayed together and had two more children, both girls. Were they happy? By all appearances they seemed to be. Money can change some things, but it always comes with a price to pay. In their case—it was a heavy price. Tricia their youngest daughter was born with a degenerative disease and though she has defied many of her doctors, the prognosis for her is a short life. It pulled the family together as they suffered the bad and found ways to embrace the good things in life. I was happy for them…as far as staying together goes. A little difference here or there can alter the world around us. I speak the truth, because I have seen it firsthand.

Carter is the spitting image of his father, only the smile is that of his mother. He went to Wartburg College so he could stay near his little sister, whom he cared deeply for with an unending love. His other passion was drama, and it became his chosen field of study. His senior study project was doing a documentary on his sister. Tricia was right next to him the night it screened for the public. He received a standing ovation that went on and on as the tears continued to fall from all those who were present. After it posted to the internet, he began to receive interest from several Hollywood directors, both in his script and his career.

Andrew forever remained the diligent and caring father.

He even won a magazine contest, receiving a million dollars spread out over twenty-five years. They had the money to survive all the hardships thrown their way. Andrew, like me, couldn’t resist entering the improbable contests offered in magazines. We both endured the calls for new siding or whatever the product being promoted was. Only Stacy knew who had instrumented the perfectly orchestrated event. She was a part of it along with me. Thankfully, I knew what this Andrew didn’t, and never would. In retrospect, maybe he really was the lucky one after all. I knew the pain of loving and losing S 344 S

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the closest thing to your spiritual significant other—ok my soul mate. Tami wasn’t mine, not even close…it would always be Amy. This Andrew would never know the difference. He

would die without the added pain of knowing, but who’s to say that in the end, he and Tami weren’t meant to be together in this time. I had begun to see my eventual death as a final release…an end to the torment of the last twenty-five years.

As I sat at my kitchen table waiting for “Time,” to once again count down. I couldn’t stop my last fifty years of memories from taking a firm hold of my thoughts. It had only been twenty-five countable years, but I lived them twice. It was sad, but the last twenty-five years nearly erased the happiness and love I once shared with Amy and my family. Every single day, I thought about her, remembered her, and loved her. Her image in my mind had began to ever-so-slowly fade away at the edges until only her bright blue eyes could be recalled with total certainty. Twenty-five years had obliterated the photo I carried in my wallet. The day I unknowingly ran it through the washing machine, was the first day I had seriously thought of suicide since being banished to this hell and loosing Emily.

In roughly three hours, a wormhole would open, hopefully. I would finally be able to set right, what once had been blissfully good and then destroyed by me. None of this would matter anymore, life would return to the path and time it was destined to follow. I had to believe this! I had no other choice; the alternative was simply not conceivable. My precious

daughter, Emily, had a right to live—even if I must now die to save her. This was not a knock against Carter, Stephanie, or even delicate Tricia, all of whom I had come to love from afar.

In a strange way they were still a part of me. But; I had been a part of Emily’s life; there at her birth, her first steps the highs and lows she went through, and above all else, I lived and relished the bond that grows between a father and his daughters.

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Brian L. MacLearn

Samantha was equally important to me, and I would have

been just as lost without her. Her life was altered too, gone was the husband she had once worshiped, and who loved her with the same passion I recognized in Amy and me. This time around, she had no longing for a relationship as she worked her way through medical school. It meant that Megan, my

granddaughter would never be born in this time. One brief snippet of time altered the lives of so many. I could be wrong.

It wasn’t too late for Sam to have children. Time was about to end for me…maybe. In a few hours I would know for certain.

Once I passed into the wormhole, I would never know if Sam’s life would ever include the same happiness she once had in my life. I could only pray that going back would reset the world back to normal. If this was an alternate universe, then I prayed to God to grant her love and happiness.

I was proud of Samantha then and even now. They were

two different people. Say what you will, but environment does shape your personality. I’ve seen it firsthand. The easy laughter my Sam had was replaced by the sheer determination to succeed. It was always lying just under her exterior, but in this time it became her driving force. I didn’t rule out happiness for her, but it wouldn’t come easy. Tami seemed to have found a measure of peace in her life. I was grateful for this. It was one small token of change that seemed to be a bright spot.

She turned her attention to Tricia and became her guardian, her light, and many times her very will to keep going. I would never know all the intricacies that made up their lives. I was still an outsider. I couldn’t measure their added happiness, or the new nightmares they faced because of me. I was only able to learn second-hand from my parents and sister what their lives were like.

Neil and Linda Jane Johnson loved all of their children

and grandchildren, which had never changed, even with my S 346 S

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interference. Even though I was not technically her son, my mother in this time never treated me as anything other than one of her two sons. In many ways, we had developed a devot-ed relationship of understanding between us. I can’t say it any different; our bond went beyond mother and son. My father became more of a friend and a great sounding board for me.

The Challenger incident had altered our relationship. I understood that it would have to be different between us. He took on the role of the “family protector.” Linda, like Tami, thrived on the adversity within her life, finding in it a motivating purpose. Neil had more money to spend than he would ever be able to do so in his lifetime. During the last twenty years, he used that money to make sure everyone else lived a comfortable life.

One of the saddest parts of my life happened five years

ago. I had one person…okay, one dog that I could count on to be there for me. Emma had been more than just a faithful companion. She had graced my life with love and laughter. She kept her playfulness to the very end. I knew it was coming, and I fought it with everything I could. It started out as a pain in her back right leg. It then moved to her entire right side.

The Vet said it was old age. After another couple of months it continued to get worse. After another visit to the Vet he confirmed the worst. Her kidneys were diseased and the pain was only going to become more extreme. I spent the next week by her side, never letting her out of my sight. We shared long conversations and relived all our happy times together. When I was finally ready, I carried her to my car and made the drive to the Vet’s office. I stroked her head as the Vet gave her the injection to end her pain and her life. The tears streamed down my cheeks. Only those who love animals will ever know the devastating pain of losing a beloved pet. Without Emma in my life, I was totally alone.

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Brian L. MacLearn

I glanced up at the wall clock and then looked out the

window over the kitchen sink. The storm clouds were moving ever closer. I could swear I could even taste the electricity in the air. My mouth tasted like I was sucking on an old quarter. It was probably only my latent imagination, remembering back to a day like this one, twenty-five years past. I rubbed at my eyes—eyes exhausted by too many ghosts and demons

haunting my days and nights.

I had my backpack sitting on the chair next to me. Inside were all the notes and research I’d compiled over the last twenty-five years. There was also a letter I’d written to myself…

just in case. This time, nothing electronic would go back—

nothing what-so-ever. I refused to allow anything to make a difference should it be found by accident. The journals and papers in my backpack were bad enough, but a very necessary evil. My stomach was turning, and I could now taste the threat of bile along with the old quarter in my mouth. I was grateful I hadn’t eaten anything today. If there had been anything in my stomach it wouldn’t stay there for long.

I turn seventy-five tomorrow, and I look more like I’m

ninety-five. I barely survived the last five years. I tried to be as true to the self-made promises of twenty years ago, to take away the hurt I’d caused. I also vowed to take down the man who had murdered Stebben. J.W. Winslow was old when I

first encountered him. He was in the later part of his life, and I could have just let time take its toll on him, but what would the satisfaction be in that? His electronics company became a bull in the technology industry, replacing E.M.J. as the company to contend with. I’m sure he smiled for nearly ten years every time he thought of me, which I assumed wasn’t very often.

They had all the chips from E.M.J. and his company was mer-ciless on its competitors. The money made him stronger, and his power was nearly unstoppable as it flourished and grew.

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I spent the first two years, after the warehouse incident, under the careful and persistent watch of the F.B.I. My ques-tionable past caught up with me, and once they hauled me in.

They were ready to put me away for good. I was saved like a murderer condemned to death, one who gets the pardon-ing call from the Governor one minute before they inject the deadly toxins. Only the intercession of a sitting President saved me to be present at this moment. A Presidential pardon arrived just in time to save my proverbial butt. I had shared a lot with Stacy, but I don’t know what it was that she did which managed to pull me out of the fire. If there was any way to describe our relationship the last twenty-five years it was as conspiring partners. We fed off each other, and she kept me going. My mission and mishap became her life’s endeavor. She loved to be behind the scenes and playing the game. It had become a game that I eventually learned she was a master at.

I could never have achieved what I did without her help and companionship.

Only two people, besides me, knew of the impending

tragedy of 9/11. Stacy was one, and J.W. Winslow was the other. I cannot speak to J.W. keeping it secret, but Stacy never shared the information as far as I ever knew. It became the pivotal point of my life in this altered time. Sitting here only moments away from the event that changed my life for the last twenty-five years, I had to give one more thought to how I’d lived through 9/11—for the second time…

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Terrorist intervention.

September 11th, 2001.

“God help me,”
it was all I could think about. Weeks, months, even years had led me to this point in time and to this place. I was feeling my age today more than I ever had in the past. I know most of it was the weight of expectations and the dilemma of uncertainty. For the world, it was just the start of an ordinary day. Every scenario and every ill contrived plan to curtail the events that would most surely follow had been thoroughly thought out, discarded and finally and completely laid to rest. The only people, to whom I had conveyed the horrors of what happened on 9/11, were Stacy and J.W. Winslow.

He knew about the attack, but I doubted he would do anything to stop it. There was too much at stake for him to gain, mon-etarily and politically. I had no idea what was going through his mind, but could easily bet it was all about himself.

Stacy had been my sounding board and my most trusted

advisor. “Can one man really change the world?” a comment she threw at me religiously.

I always answered, “Yes, if he believes he can.” I believed I could change the outcome of 9/11 and then the most prepos-terous question in the world was posed to me by the Goddess of rationality. “Why stop it?’ She asked it after years of planning to do just that. My knee-jerk answer to her when she asked it was, “I’d be saving thousands of lives…that’s why.” The latest plan had me infiltrating the airport where the known S 350 S