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Ouroboros: 2

This is one chapter of a short story. To start from the beginning of the story head over to Ouroboros: 1.

Ben plopped himself down on the bed from his upright position. He stared at the ceiling for answers. “Could it have been a dream?” He found it just about as difficult to believe that as he did that the experience was real. Having had the same dream for the past fifteen years, he was slow to accept the possibility, but what else could it have been. “Things like that just don’t happen in reality,” he thought. He made a mental note to discuss it with his therapist. The ordeal slipped from his mind entirely as he looked around.

His room was covered in obsolete movie posters from the theater that his mother worked at. There were model cars lined up on his dresser and a recently raided jar of mostly pennies setting on its side beside them. The room was well lit by the eastern morning sun through faded beige curtains. The bright sun revealed little in the small room, but papers strewn about the floor and a backpack leaning against a wall in the corner. Ben thought for a moment that the room looked pretty empty.

Everything in the house had a putrid yellow-beige color to it, but the color was deepened the closer you looked towards the ceiling. Ben’s father was quite the smoker, and the smell and look of the place had slowly taken a downward spiral since they moved in, but nobody ever noticed. There were streaks running down some walls in the living area where the nicotine had condensed together and dripped slower than the eye could perceive. Despite the appearance, the walls were dry to the touch.

Without thinking, Ben dragged his hands across the walls of the hallway on his way to the bathroom. He headed for the toilet, but did a double take at his image in the mirror. He spoke to himself “Darn, I got a pimple. I’m not supposed to get those yet!”

“Ben! Time for school!” His mom had to yell for him every morning, since he was typically a slow start to get out of bed.

“I’m up!”

“OK, well breakfast will be ready in five minutes!”

“OK mom! I’m in the bathroom!” he shouted with what his mother called “a tone” in his voice. He muttered under his breath “Sheesh, can’t a guy pee?”

When he finished brushing his teeth he stood and stared in the mirror at himself. A shiver went through him as he imagined that there was someone else looking back at him. Someone not unlike himself, but for age. For a moment he saw himself fifteen years older. “At least you don’t have to go to stupid school anymore. Huh?” he posed the question to his older self, but there was no reply. He stood there for a moment before slamming the mirror closed on the medicine cabinet and running back to his room to get dressed.

He was still pulling the collared shirt over his head with one arm in when he reached the kitchen table. “Mom, why do I have to go to school? You didn’t go to school. Right?”

“I was home schooled, but it was still school.” She took a deep breath and bent down to look at Ben from below. “You’re not going to go to school today Ben.”

“Why do I have the feeling I’m not gonna like why?” His tone was skeptical, but quickly turned to a whine as he jumped from his chair and headed to the refrigerator to drink orange juice from the carton. “Awww, I don’t have to go to the dentist or something do I?

His mother grabbed the container from his hands just as he was tipping it up and knelt down to meet him face to face now. “Ben, you’re not going to the dentist. You’ll be staying with your aunt and uncle for a few days in the city—”

“But mom, you know—”

“Just hush for a second!” She closed her eyes and tried to calm herself. She hadn’t meant to yell at him. “Listen, your father…” the words were right there, but she choked on them like holding back vomit. “Ben, your father… died… last night.” She had more to say, but realized that Ben simply wouldn’t hear it after that bomb.

Ben stood there silent, staring straight ahead. His mother’s crouching figure appeared as nothing more than a blur in the foreground. Everything around him became white and black all at once and only one thing was clear. He had heard what his mother said, and under normal circumstances it would have sent him into immediate tears, but he was focused on something more profound than death: the clock on the wall.

“Ben… Say something.”

He shifted his gaze to his mothers face and it slowly came to it’s natural coloring. He closed his mouth which had been gaping open. His face became austere and determined as if he knew what he had to do, though he wasn’t sure he did. “I understand.”

“What?” The response was a bit of a shock for her.

“Dad died. I was sad. It took me a long time to get over it and to understand, but I understand now.”

Her face turned confused and concerned. She looked down and bit her lip. Ben touched his hand under her chin and softly guided her to look at him. Her expression changed to one of surprise.

“I understand. You have to make your peace with dad. You have to go to him and pour your heart out and tell him all of the things that you wanted to say when he was alive, but were afraid to say for fear of breaking the silence.” He glanced up at the clock again as if he could gather words from it. “Just do me one favor…”

She was lost for words now. “I…” She paused for a moment trying to remember what should come after that, but nothing came to her. Instead she simply acknowledged him. “Yes?”

“I want you to spend some time alone. Give yourself some time to let this set in. It will take a while for you to truly get over dad’s death, and perhaps you never really will, but you have to promise me… Next week you pack some things and come stay with me at Aunt Betty and Uncle Frank’s.” Ben knew exactly what he was to do now. “Promise me.”

“I…”

“Promise.” he ushered.

“I Promise.”

The dreams had stopped, and the memory of what happened in the train station had returned. It was clear as ever now, and though he had no idea how or why it had happened, it was clear what had happened and where and when he was now. He sat now, a week later, in the den of his aunt’s home waiting for his mother to pull up the driveway. Somehow he had been sent back to relive this moment in his life. If he could save his mother from her impending death, of which only he was aware, his life would be changed forever. He didn’t know why this was happening, but he knew that this was his chance to set things right.

The phone rang. Betty was sitting on the couch in the living room, watching her “stories” on the television. She was so enthralled in the show that she barely ever heard the phone at that time of day.

“Jennifer, you’re pregnant.”

Ring…

“But doctor, I don’t know who father is.”

Ring…

“I’m the father.”

“Jonny!”

Half a ring… The machine picks up. Dramatic music starts and the show goes to commercial.

“Yes, this is Detective Marr from…” The message is cut short as Betty picks up the phone.

Ben heard the start of the message from the den. “Where do I know that name from?” he thought to himself. He walked over to the screen door and by time he opened it she was off the phone looking up at him. A pale expression washed over his face.

“Ben, there’s… been an accident.”

Read the next part of the story, Ouroboros: 3.

Tags: sci fi, series, short story, time travel

This entry was posted on Wednesday, September 24th, 2008 at 1:15 pm and is filed under Short Stories. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.