Remember Me (7 page)

Her look was somewhat new for my father; he would get to know it well in the future. I was already prepared for the speech to begin—I had sat through a few of them in my time. He opened his mouth to make a protest and then promptly shut it when he took in the full force of my mother’s glaring eyes, purposely directed at him. Linda, my mother, had always been a doer; but she became the embodiment of accomplishment, blooming into the woman “who gets things done and done right.” God help my father; because I believe I’d just let the cat out of the bag a few years earlier than it had been in my future life.

“You two should be ashamed of yourselves! It was an

opening statement to keep us quiet and draw our undivided attention. It doesn’t matter the why, only the, “what now?” Did you even stop to think what Andrew must be going through?

He has given you more proof than you need to know that what he’s telling you, unbelievable as it might be, is the gospel truth.

If you can’t see, no… feel it deep inside that he is your son, God Help You! His phone alone should have been sufficient to persuade you, let alone the pictures. By the way…just who are we that someone would go to all these lengths to shock us and play such an elaborate hoax, or practical joke on us, and for what possible reason?”

My mother was just getting warmed up, but my dad had

the look of a condemned prisoner, facing his accusers as his judgment is ready to be commenced, moments before the

switch is flipped. What I saw was the transfer of leadership taking place. For the most part, Neil was taking it fairly well; a sign which suggested he knew this moment would be coming some day. My mom was always strong and insightful, and I was going to need her insights to help me survive.

“We have several pressing issues and concerns, none of

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which is going to be answered tonight. First and foremost, we have a birthday celebration to prepare for. My mom looked over at me and said sweetly, Happy Birthday Andrew.” I just nodded, and she went on, “Our son and his family are coming tonight for dinner and cake.” She stopped as the idiosyncrasy of what she just said dawned on her. “I’m sorry Andrew, you are my son, too,” she offered to me with her face slightly brushed in warm redness.

“I know Mom, it’s just as difficult for me to see you and Dad, in this time, compared to the parents that I know, twenty-five years from now.”

“Andrew, it’s just, you know, I can’t quite get my head

around all of it yet, but it doesn’t matter. What is important now is what we do about it.”

I sighed and shrugged my shoulders. My head hurt from

all the “what ifs.” “I don’t know what to tell you Mom. I don’t remember much about this birthday, I’m pretty sure it was normal—if that word holds any meaning anymore. I know

we probably had chocolate cake with peanut-butter frosting, chicken and noodles over mashed potatoes, and your special three-vegetable, cheesy casserole for supper. I still ask for it every year!” I genuinely smiled as I said it.

My mother’s eyes widened as she realized that supper had been the least of her concerns as we spent the late afternoon talking. Looking up at the clock all she said was, “My God!”

In the true authoritative form she would grow into down

the road, she belted out directives to my dad. “Neil, I don’t have time to make the homemade noodles and bake the cake.

We only have a couple of hours before Andrew, Tami, and

Samantha gets here. I want you to run to the store and buy a cake from the bakery and get a couple packages of noodles off the shelf, and for God’s sake don’t buy the cheap ones—get the home-style ones.”

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It was an old joke between family members. My father was a bit of a pack-rat, and he believed in being frugal, sometimes detrimental to actual quality. In all fairness, he managed to pass on his reasoning skills to me, and I greatly benefited by his mantra: “don’t pay twice the price for the same ingredients or product.” Yet, sometimes my mom was right too, the cheap-est doesn’t mean the tastiest either. My father sprung from the couch and hustled towards the door to the garage which was just off the kitchen. Right before he turned the knob, he stopped and came back to the living room.

He faced me and a look of genuine concern covered his

face. His eyes were full of sincerity as he spoke, “Andrew, please forgive me for my outburst earlier.” He held up his hands, palms facing me, making sure I didn’t interrupt him so he could maintain his train of thought. “I have no doubt whatsoever, that you are indeed my son. Like your mom, I’ll do all I can to help you!” With that said he spun around and raced out the kitchen door and into the garage. My mom and I listened for the overhead garage door to open and the car to start. Once the garage door began its noisy trek back down, she turned her attention once again to me.

“Andrew, I can’t even begin to imagine the thoughts running around in your head. What feels right to me is that we should do our best to make sure tonight goes on as closely to what happened before…wait… no that doesn’t make sense,

it hasn’t happened…not yet, not here exactly…Dang. This

line of thinking is going to drive me bonkers. Nothing is ever going to be exactly as it was, for you or us, because…well you know—you are here now.” Her eyes narrowed ever so

slightly as a passing realization took seed in her brain. She said, Andrew? What do you think is going to happen now that you are here?”

It was a thoughtful question, but I knew what she was

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really asking. How was I going to affect the timeline by just being here, and did bringing her and Dad into the fold exac-erbate the situation? I answered her truthfully, “Mom, I just don’t know.”

I let the memory of yesterday slide away as I got up and out of my old bed. My back ached and I had to force myself to stand erect. The bed badly needed a new mattress. I moved my head from side to side, trying to stretch out kinks. When I bent forward to touch my toes, my lower back groaned in protest. I ignored it and told it to be happy it could even still touch toes. I bounced my palms up and down on the floor. I rose back up and reached both arms into the air, stretching out as far as I could, and then stretched side to side. Feeling somewhat better, I headed out to the kitchen and the redo of my past awaiting me.

Mom was already sitting at the kitchen table with a cup

of coffee. I grabbed a mug from the cupboard over the pot and filled it to the brim. I opened the drawer under the pot and grabbed a spoon to stir in some creamer. Dad liked his coffee stronger than I did. I needed something to help cut the bitterness. I moved to the table and sat down across from my mother. She looked frazzled this morning. I was guessing that sleep didn’t come very easy for her last night. She gave me a weak smile as I sat down.

It had been after eleven o’clock last night, when I was

safely able to make my return back here. Both of my parents were emotionally exhausted so we shared very little conversation about the birthday party. My mother did say that the evening had gone on pretty much without fanfare. My younger self enjoyed the meal and the presents. He’d gotten several Iowa Hawkeye sweatshirts. It had been a great year, the Hawks finished 8-4-1, beating Michigan 26-0 and crushing Texas in the Freedom Bowl 55-17. Next year Iowa was expected to be S 49 S

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even better. It was also going to be first year that I ever got to go to a game at Kinnick Stadium. Years later, I would become a season ticket holder and share my love of the Hawkeyes with my youngest daughter Emily.

The night went on as normal as possible, not that she had anything to gauge it by. She didn’t think anyone was aware of anything out of the ordinary. My younger self had no problem with the store-bought cake or the meal in general. He never even asked what happened to his requested chocolate cake. I knew something my mother didn’t. It would have been a major topic of discussion on the way home. It would definitely be something Tami wouldn’t be able to let slide without condemnation.

Sitting here with Mom today, at this place and in this

time that I had already lived through, I had to wonder if it was extremely dangerous knowing the future. I understood that going forward I would need to tread very lightly and be very sure of my decisions and my comments. I should carefully assess the potential damage that my being here could cause.

Unfortunately, I had no choice to be somewhere else, other than here.

I was finally ready to break the silence. I’d finished half of my coffee and I could tell Mom was waiting for me to start the conversation. “Morning Mom,” I said with a slight hint of humor in my voice.

Not to be outdone, my mom said with perfect matching

tone quality, “Morning to you too…Son!”

We smiled at each other and right there I knew I had found an ally no matter what this new future would bring. “It really is you. I knew it before, but…somehow it just seems all too impossible to rationalize, but… here you are,” my mother said to me as she studied my face.

“You think that’s strange? You should try and see it from S 50 S

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my perspective: my own mother is younger than me, and

it’s not due to some strange marriage or adoption arrangement.” At this comment, the two of us couldn’t help but laugh.

Sometimes strange realities leave us no other choice. I know it would have been easy to stay in bed and hide under the covers. If I slept long enough, then maybe everything would revert to normal after a Rip Van Winkle-type nap. Mom and I exchanged some mundane chit chat. Both of us were too

afraid to bring up the elephant in the room. My coffee cup was empty, and my head was beginning to ache from self-imposed tension. After fretting about my current existence, I felt it was time to bring my mom up to speed. I needed to bounce my

thoughts and worries off of someone. I wanted her opinion on what I believed to be true, and what might be the best thing I should do next.

I took a deep breath and started, “I’ve now had a couple of days to think about my predicament. I really don’t believe I’m going back home to my place in the future. If I did, I think somewhere during my life, I would have read about a person who went into the past and came back, especially since it was me. Unless I magically zap back today, someone, somewhere, would have encountered the old me from the future, and told a story to someone about it. You don’t need to worry if that doesn’t seem logical. There’s a lot sloshing around inside my brain. Trust me, it all makes sense. I know I might be grasping at straws, but I just don’t see it happening. My gut tells me I’m here to stay, and I better come up with a plan to deal with it.”

Mom nodded her head in agreement. “Sounds right, I

guess. I know you were careful with what you told me yesterday. I’m thinking you have more to tell me than you let on?

What I’m wondering is what didn’t you say?”

Mom was perceptive if nothing else. She was right, I had been extremely careful with all I had shared with her yesterday.

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I didn’t have the stomach or heart to tell her about the end of my marriage and the wonderful life I’d found with Amy, and I wasn’t ready to share it now. I didn’t have any idea what the long-term ramifications of my being here were going to cause.

Until I could determine a course of action, the best offense was a strong defense, in other words, stay the course.

“Andrew! I see those wheels spinning around in your head.

Spill it!”

“It’s not that easy Mom. You have to realize something…

everything in its proper perspective. If I…we change an event today it might cause horrific consequences in the future. I’m the only one who will be aware of those changes. To everyone else it is how it is. It would be extremely hard to live with myself if somebody I loved suffered because I intervened.

Yesterday morning, at the old farmstead, I seriously considered suicide, rather than face the inexcusable.” I continued even as my mother gasped and brought her hand to her mouth. “Don’t worry; it’s not something I could do—even if I felt it was the best course of action.” I noticed my mother still dissecting me with her eyes.

“Why would that ever be an option,” she said strongly to me. She was more than a little irritated.

“I’ve already lived the next twenty-five years. I know many things, forgotten lots, and stored away much that could be used to completely and disastrously change the future, and not for the better. You want to know and even sadder thought…I still might screw it up anyway, even if I try my best not to. All I can do is hope that I am a better man than I believe myself to be. I may try and leave a little bit of heaven behind me, and end up facing the damnation of hell before me.”

“What are you saying? The world is going to end because

you are here.”

“No.., that’s not what I’m saying. The world of 2010 is far S 52 S

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more technologically advanced than it is right now. We’ve only been touching the cusp of it now.” I reached in my pocket and handed her my phone. I’d showed it to her yesterday as proof of my time traveling claim. As she took it and looked it over, I went on, “let’s say that if by chance this little item would make its way into the hands of the Chinese, then our world will be vastly different from what mine was.”

“I don’t understand what you are implying,” my mother

said to me in all honesty. She hadn’t had the time to think through everything that I had. She also didn’t have the nightmare I dreamt last night. In it, I had succumbed to my desire to garner wealth and sold my phone to a start-up company, who in turn, lost it to the Chinese during a hostile take-over of their company. The eventual outcome was nothing short of a horrific, post-apocalyptic, science fiction movie plot. I woke up drenched in sweat as the world ceased to exist. All out war had ensued, and the world annihilated itself in one massive nuclear mushroom cloud. As I lay in bed this morning, I realized that I had a moral responsibility to be careful. This was true, even if I was the only one who believed it.