Second Chances

This autobiographical yet fictitious story explores the old adage "Be careful what you wish for, You might just get it."

 

Second Chances

by

Adrian Spencer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do yourself a favour and learn all you can;

Then remember what you learn and you will prosper.

Proverbs 19:8

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The characters, names, and events as well as all places, incidents, organizations, and dialog in this novel

are either the products of the writer’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Copyright © 2013 Adrian Spencer

All rights reserved.

ISBN: 978-1-291-87632-1

 

Chapter 1

 

            “Are you ready for this? It is not going to be pretty”.

            I looked around. There was no-one in sight.

            “Why are you looking around you? I am inside you.”

            “Who are you? What do you want?” I was still looking around the room, but I still could not see anything.

            “Thirty-two years and you still do not know my voice. My heart aches for you. I am God and I am speaking through my Spirit inside you.”

            “Is this some kind of practical joke or something, because if it is I am not laughing?”

            “You never believed that I could speak directly to you, did you? Yet you believe I have control of your life. If I control your life, then don’t you think I can speak directly to you? You just need to be open to me.”

            “Okay then, if you really are God then prove it.” I said.

            “Funny,” the voice replied with a bit of a snicker, “that is exactly what the atheists say. Why should I have to prove anything to you? I have held you in my hands for 32 years and I know you better than you know you. You have studied my word. I have given you three beautiful children. I have been with you through the heartache of the divorce from your first wife and I am with you in your new marriage, too.”

            “Okay then, if you are God why are you speaking to me now?”

            “Do you remember the date 18 September 2007?” he asked

            “Yes, I do and why are you bringing that up? I am over that. I am happy now.”

            “Yes, you are, but you asked me something that morning and, as I always answer prayers, I am here to answer yours now.”

            “But that was over five years ago,” I stated firmly. “Why would you answer a prayer now, and one which I can’t even remember making.”

“Let me show you. Are you ready? There is no going back after we start this journey.”

            I sensed sadness in His voice. I asked, “Why do I sense that you are sad?”

            “Because I am about to lose a child. As I gave you free will I can’t change that.”

            “I am sorry! I am just not getting this. What do you mean?”

            “Let me show you.”

The room went dark and when it lit up again I was somewhere totally different, yet familiar.

            A nurse whom I had met before, although I could not recall where or when at that moment walked over to the nurses’ station and picked up a patient chart. “Doctor, here is Private Spencer’s chart.”

            “Thank you nurse. Where is Mr Spencer?”

            “Through that door in the corridor!”

            When the doctor opened the door I appeared to be lying on a gurney just outside it. I looked through the window to see what was going on. “I remember this: 18 September 2007. I took an overdose of paracetamol, but why am I here watching myself.”

            The voice inside me gently spoke, “Listen closely to what you are saying.”

            “I seem to be sleeping or dead. How can I listen?”

            “Listen to what your heart is saying.”

            Suddenly, I seemed to be able to hear every thought of the person on the gurney, who apparently was me. “Lord, please don’t let me die. Where did I go wrong? What made me get to this point in my life where I don’t feel loved anymore? I am sorry; please forgive me and give me a second chance.”

            “I thought that was quite humorous at the time,” the voice laughed.

            “What do you mean at the time? He just said it.”

            “Second chance…get it! You just aren’t getting it, are you? That prayer, I am answering it now. I am giving you a chance to see what has contributed to your getting to that point and where you have been since.”

            “But that was over five years ago. I am happy now. Why do I need to go back and see where I have come from and where I am going to?”

            “Trust me: you will need to know.”

Everything went dark again. This time, when the lights came on I was looking down on what appeared to be a rather heated discussion between a woman in her mid to late 30s and a young man about 22 years old. The man seemed vaguely familiar and I recognized the face of the woman but could not put names to either of them. The woman seemed very angry with the young man. “You got her pregnant; you will marry her!” she yelled, waving her umbrella at him.

“But she is only 17 years old and...”

“I don’t care. You will marry her, and as soon as possible. I am not having my teenage daughter pregnant and unwed. What were you thinking? You are 22 years old; you should know better. Didn’t your parents bring you up the right way?”

“I will have to tell my mum and dad. They are not going to be very happy either.”

“That, young man, is your problem. I suggest you tell your parents, and then give them our phone number, and we will sit down and arrange this wedding together.”

Everything faded, and when it came clear again I was in what appeared to be a church or something similar. At the front of the church was a large altar. On this altar was a Jewish candle holder with seven lit candles. Obviously, there was some ceremony about to take place.

Directly in front of the candle holder was a small wooden stand angled at about 30 degrees, with a thick book on it. The book was a very old Bible, open at Corinthians. A priest stood in front of the altar, holding a small book the title of which I could not make out.

The priest looked at a man sitting on a stool in front of the keyboard of a very large pipe organ and nodded for him to start playing. As the man began to play “Here Comes The Bride,” the big wooden doors at the back of the church slowly opened, the hinges creaking under the strain, to reveal a young woman dressed in a full-length white wedding dress with three-quarter-length sleeves and a veil held in place by a tiara.

Standing just off the step in front of the priest was the groom, dressed in a grey single-breasted suit with a white shirt and black tie. His jet-black hair, which appeared to be brylcreemed, reflected lights in the ceiling. I had seen this scene before but where? Everything seemed so old. I saw a flash of a camera and suddenly it dawned on me that I was watching the wedding of my parents, but how? That was in 1962. In an instant the scene changed and I heard the priest say, “By the power vested in me on this the 10^th day of February 1962, I pronounce you man and wife. What God has joined together let no man put asunder. You may kiss your bride!”

The voice spoke again, “And a lovely ceremony it was, too! Pity it doesn’t last!” then disappeared as quickly as it came.

As the couple left the church the bride’s mother came over and whispered to them, “I hope you two can make some kind of a go of it. You stuffed up once; don’t do it again, please. At least now your child will not be known as a ‘b*****d child’. Now go and have a short holiday and we’ll see you when you get back.”

“Let’s get out of here,” the young man said to his new bride, and they got into his motor bike and side-car for the three-hour trip to Pwheli in Wales for a five-day honeymoon.

I was thinking that if this is how my mum and dad started their married life, what would have happened had dad run away or my mum not shown up.

“You asked, I show,” came a whisper.

Suddenly, I was back at the start of the vision. This time the bride was already waiting at the front of the room. The door burst open. A young man dressed in a suit and tie looked at the young woman and shrugged his shoulders. “I have looked just about everywhere I could think of, but he is nowhere to be found.”

“I told you he was no good,” said the woman, who was obviously the girl’s mother.

“So now what do we do, mum? I can’t have this baby without being married, can I?”

“No dear, you cannot, so we will go and get an abortion.”

“NO!!!” I yelled, and sat upright, struggling to catch my breath.

I looked at the clock. 12:34 am. I had been in bed for an hour, but it felt longer. ‘I need a drink,’ I thought, and got up.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 2

 

“I told you it was not going to be pretty, didn’t I?” the voice asked.

“What was all that about? What happened? Was it a dream? It seemed so real!”

“I knew you would have lots of questions. Just as I thought, you are not ready to face the reality you are creating for yourself. This will be harder than I first expected. I thought you would be ready.”

“Ready for what?” Still there was no-one there. I was having a monologue with myself, but the answers were not the kind of answers I would give myself. “I am going crazy!” I thought.

“No, you are not. I will stay with you this time in an effort to help you understand what is going on. I thought you could handle it without me, but I guess not, so I am here now to be with you. Let’s go!”

“Wh…” The room went dark before I could finish my sentence. When the lights came on again, the young man from my previous vision was there. I could smell what seemed to be hospital-grade disinfectant. I looked around what appeared to be a hospital waiting room. It seemed very old, I could just make out that a calendar on the wall was open to August and the year appeared to be 1962.

            ‘What is going on?’ I thought. I looked more closely at the calendar and noticed that all the days from one to nineteen had been crossed out. ‘It must be the 20^th of August 1962, the day I was born. But how?’

            “Let me explain,” came the voice. “The only way I can answer your prayer properly is to take you back to when things started so you can see what sort of family life has brought you this far. There are other contributing factors; too, but we will get to them later!”

“What I don’t get is why I am seeing events that will have no bearing at all on my future. Didn’t things go wrong for me just before I turned 18? That is 18 years from now.”

“It is true that in 18 years from now there is a major milestone in your life but, I need to bring you here to show you some of the negative influences that have contributed to your psyche!” explained the voice.

“Are you saying I am crazy?”

“Not at all. Your psyche is what makes up your mind!”

“And what makes up your psyche?” I asked forcefully.

“I don’t have a psyche. Psyche is all to do with the human mind, and as I am not human, I can’t have a psyche.”

The doors to the waiting room opened again and Dr Brookes walked in. “Mr Spencer, you had better come with me. It seems your child has turned in the womb and is not going to wait much longer.”

“Is that my dad?” I asked, knowing the answer before I asked it.

            The young man sprang to his feet and starting walking so fast that he was nearly running. “How is June, my wife?”

            “Okay, so I was born on 20^th August 1962. I knew that already, but what has that got to do with the prayer you say you are answering? How can these events have any effect on what happens in the future?”

            “You will see!”

            Everything suddenly went dark again. I was struggling to breathe. I had a sense that something was going on, but what? I could hear the muffled voices of people and every now and then I felt I needed to turn around or something but I had no control over what was happening to me.

            “Help. I can’t breathe” I shouted.

            “Just relax,” explained the voice calmly.

I don’t know what happened. I felt as though something else was in control of what was going on, but it didn’t seem to bother me. Then I was somehow sure everything would be ok.

            In the darkness I could see a small light that seemed to be getting closer and closer. Suddenly the light was really bright and someone was wrapping me in a towel or something. I had a sharp pain in my bottom and I started to cry without being able to control it.

            “It’s a boy, Mrs Spencer, a healthy 7lb 2oz, and 21 inches long.”

            “Thank you, doctor.” June replied.

            “Have you decided on a name for him?”

“Well, we think so. We want to call him Adrian.”

 

“What the hell is going on? Did I just live through my own birth?”

“Yes, you did. Amazing thing, isn’t it. My greatest creation was the ability for people to reproduce.”

“Look, this is getting weird. Can you please tell me what the hell is going on?”

“You asked me to…”

“I know what I asked you. You showed me remember, I just want to know what is going on.”

“If you will be quiet for a minute or two, I will try to explain. You were dying when you asked me to intervene in your life and show you how you ended up the way you were. I healed you while you were in that hospital and I started to answer your prayer back then. But as you needed to be prepared for it I sent you to Bible College. You are ready, even if you think you are not. There are still issues that you need to deal with and that happens later in life, but to really understand where you have come from and where you are going to you need to experience them for yourself! There will be incidents that shock you and events that you might enjoy, but remember this: they are part of what makes you, you. Now let’s move on, shall we?”

It went dark again.

It was cold and dark, but I could tell it was daytime because of all the noise and activity around me. I heard a bell ring like the ones that used be on shop doors as they opened. Not more than 10 seconds later a mysterious female face appeared from behind a net curtain. “Hello. What’s your name?” she asked.

“Adrian,” I replied, but it seemed as though she could not hear or understand me.

Just then I heard a breathless voice that I recognised, “Is he ok?”

“Yes he is fine. Are you the mother?”

“This is so embarrassing. I came here to do some shopping and went home. After putting my shopping away I had the awful feeling that I had forgotten something, so I re-checked my shopping list. It wasn’t until I got to formula that I realised I had left Adrian here in his pram.”

“How old is he?” the stranger asked.

“Two weeks today,” June replied.

“That’s nice,” I thought, two weeks old and she leaves me outside a shop. ‘Wait ‘til I tell dad about this!’

“That will be interesting,” the voice whispered. “You are two weeks old and you can’t talk yet.”

‘How can this be happening?’

“I told you that you have to experience them. Trust me, please.” the voice said, reassuringly.

Again it went dark.

Chapter 3

           

“I can walk.”

“We have come forward now to 1966.”

“That will make me four years old then?”

“Four years, one month and three days to be precise, but that is not important. What is important is what is about to happen. I am sorry you have to relive this, but it is what you wanted.”

“Relive what?”

The scene changed.

The kettle had finished boiling only a minute or so earlier when my brother, who was only a few months old, was crawling towards the kitchen. I was following him when he stopped and looked up at the hanging cord. He tried to stand up and reached for the cord. I took a step towards him to try to stop him, but it was too late. He had pulled the kettle over and the boiling water had scolded his right arm.

He started to scream and mum yelled from upstairs “What is going on down there?”

I was crying and shouted, “Mum, Chris just pulled something on himself and there’s water everywhere.”

 Mum came running down the stairs and found Chris lying on the floor, screaming in pain, with the kettle next to him. “Quick, we must get him to hospital.” Mum wrapped his arm in a cold towel and we drove to the nearest hospital.

 “You blame yourself for that, don’t you?” came the voice.

“Well, I was 4 years old. I could have stopped him.” I said, almost in tears.

“No, you could not have,” explained the voice. “You were a child and there were other factors that you need to consider. Your mum should have made sure the cord was not in a position where your brother could have reached it.”

“But I was there and could have stopped it from happening. I saw it happen and know what I was thinking at the time.”

“No, you don’t know what you were thinking at the time. Only I do. Your thoughts you just witnessed were the thoughts you would have had if it had happened today. Back then you did all you could to stop it under the circumstances. Trust me, you were not to blame.”

“But my mum blamed me. She told me to look after him and I failed her, I am sure she blames me for what happened.”

“So what do you suggest we do about that? We could go and see your mum?”

“My mum wants nothing more to do with me. According to her I am not her son anymore.” At that point I began to realise that of all the things in my life that were missing the only thing I had never really experienced was living in a happy family.

“I am sorry. There is no going back now until I have finished what I started. That means you are here in this reality until I tell you otherwise,” explained the voice.

“Now, where were we?”

 “Wait…” The room again went dark.

“How was school today, Adrian?” asked June.

“Was good mummy! I got my report card. Do you want to see it?” I asked.

“Show your father when he gets home.” June said as she walked away and upstairs.

“But I got four A’s and three B+s,” mumbled the boy as he walked into the kitchen to get a drink from the refrigerator.

About 10 minutes later Bill walked in from work. “June, where are you?”

“Upstairs, why, what do you want?” shouted June.

“I have some news for you.”

“Can it wait? I’m busy doing my hair. I am going out with the girls tonight. Your dinner is in the oven, when you are ready to feed the three of you. Just turn it on and give it 30 minutes to heat through. Chris is with Julie. She will bring him home at about 6.30. She can’t feed him, but I told her I had made something here, so that’s okay.”

“Yeah, okay,” mumbled Bill. “I guess that will have to be okay then, won’t it?”

“What is the news, dad?”

Bill didn’t see me there and suddenly realised that I would have overheard everything that June said. ‘Yeah, dad I know what she is like!’ I thought but wished I could have said it out aloud.

Bill sat down at the table and sat me on his knee. “I can’t tell you until I tell your mother or I will never hear the end of it.”

“Yep, I know exactly how you feel. I could tell you a thing or two about your future that would curl your socks, but you wouldn’t hear me anyway.” I thought as I looked at Bill nearly crying. Bill picked up a tissue and wiped a tear from my eye.

“Dad, I got my report card today. Wanna see it?”

“Of course I do, son.”

June came downstairs and asked, “Okay, so what is the big news. You have five minutes before I am off to Bingo.”

“You know how we are always saying we are struggling to make ends meet here. Well, a bloke from the government came to work today and the boss shut the place down for an hour while this bloke talked about an amazing opportunity. It seems there is a government incentive program where workers from here go to Australia and work there. I signed us up. We are moving to Australia next April. We just have to get some paperwork out the way but we go on a ship for six weeks.”

“How can you do this without asking me first?” yelled June.

“Well, I didn’t think you would mind considering we are always complaining about not having enough money. They pay for us to go there and provide a house at a low price. All we have to do is pack up and go.”

“And what if this is all bull****?”

“June, Adrian is here.”

“I don’t give a s***.”

‘You got that right!’ I thought.

“I am not moving to f****** Australia,” yelled June.

“Look, just f*** off to your Bingo. We’ll talk about this when you get home. And try to come home sober.”

“Oh just f*** off, will you.”

June slammed the door behind her and was still shouting as she walked down the path, but I could not understand what she was saying. I ran upstairs, closed my bedroom door and cried.

I heard a car door close and tyres squeal. About 20 minutes later dad came upstairs and knocked on my door. “Are you hungry? Would you like some dinner? Looks like steak and kidney pie, chips and mushy peas.  That’s your favourite.”

“Actually, dad, it’s Chris’ favourite, but yes, please,” I sniffed. “I can wait ‘til Chris comes home, though, if you like!”

“Well, he will be home in 10 minutes or so according to your mother and I have it in the oven warming. By the way, I am very proud of you.”

“Why?” I asked

“I looked at your report card. I am very impressed, four A’s and some B plusses.”

“Yes, but what good are they going to do me now? If I stay here in England I go to college next year. What happens if we move to Australia? Is it the same there as here?”

“I don’t know. That is a good question.”

‘That’s why I asked it,’ I thought.

“So we are moving to Australia to start a new life?” I asked my dad. “Is mum coming, too?”

“Yes, she is. I am the man of the house and she will do as I tell her.”

‘Gee, how things have changed. If only you knew what I know,’ I thought. ‘I wonder if I could stop them moving by telling them what will happen in the next couple of years.’

There was a knock on the door, “That’ll be Julie with Chris. Dinner will be ready in about five minutes.”

“Okay, dad, be there soon.”

 

“What the heck are you thinking?” asked the voice from inside me.

“What do you mean?”

 “I hear your every thought. Lucky he doesn’t.”

“Oh, and you reckon that he would listen to me if I did happen to let it slip that moving overseas is going to stuff up his whole life? Come on, I am a nine-year-old boy, doing very well at school. Moving to Australia is going to stuff up a whole lot of lives and there is nothing I can do about it. I wish I could change just one thing in my past.”

“Do you think that you know what is best for you? Have you not forgotten that it was I who rescued you from that life of crime? Have you forgotten that it was I that healed you while you were lying on that gurney in Royal Darwin Hospital? And have you not forgotten that it was I that gave you a second chance at happiness by guiding you to your present wife? Ok then, if you think you can do a better job at managing your life than I can, I am going to allow you the ability, just once, to change something in your past. I warn you, though, that with any change you make you will have to live with the consequences for the rest of your life!”

“I am sure I can handle that. This is me as a 50-year-old talking now not a nine-year-old child.”

“Okay, now you have the ability to change one thing in your past. I do have one final warning: if that change means you never meet me then you will never be able to return to the life you know now. Are you sure you want to do this?” asked the voice. Something about the voice seemed strange as though it were very sad and crying.

“I am positive. Thank you. I do have one question?  What do I have to do to make the change?”

“You will know. I LOVE YOU.”

“What is love?” I asked. There was no reply. ‘Has the voice finally left me alone?”

“Adrian, dinner’s ready,” dad called from the bottom of the stairs.

“Coming.” I shouted back.

Just then the room went dark.

 

Chapter 4

 

When the light came on again I was lying down with my eyes closed.        

“Spencer, you have a visitor,”

I opened my eyes. I recognise this place, but where from? Suddenly, a man dressed in a white coat, with a blue lanyard round his neck, came round the corner of my door. When I saw that the identification tag said SAYRAC, it took me a couple of seconds to remember that it meant South Australian Youth Remand Assessment Centre. Holy moly, this meant that I was back in McNally’s. This means it was about August 1980 because I had my 18th birthday whilst in the centre. ‘If I am not mistaken,’ I thought ‘this visitor is my mum and she is going to tell me about the gift sent from my grandma for my 18th.’

“Spencer,” the man shouted. “Visitor.”

“Coming, sir!” I replied.

I was led to the visitors’ room and told to sit down. I waited for whomever it was had come to see me. Somehow, I knew it was going to be my mum. She had wanted to rub my nose in whatever I did, ever since the incident with Chris all those years ago.

The door opened and my mum walked in. She was actually smiling. I doubt that it was because she was happy to see me. Ever since she and dad separated, and then divorced some three years ago, she had not wanted to have anything to do with me unless it meant her getting something out of it.

“Yes, mum, what do you want? I know you are not here because you love me and care about me.” I said very sarcastically.

“Well, if you must know, I came to tell you that I received a letter from your nanna the other day. In the letter was a card for you and inside the card was £10 from her for your 18th birthday. However, I have decided that because you are in here and in trouble with the police you are not going to get it, because you don’t deserve it.”

‘Is this my opportunity to change what happened in my life and keep myself from getting a criminal record, or at least going to an adult jail?’ I thought. ‘I believe it is. Now, what is the best way to do this?... I know.’

“But mum, I already have my punishment, that is why I am in here. Have you ever heard of double jeopardy? It means you can’t be punished for the same crime twice. So by keeping that money from me you are committing double jeopardy.”

“Oh well, if you put it that way I guess you are right. I will look after it until you get out.”

‘That was too easy,’ I thought. ‘See, I told you I could handle my life better than you could.’

“I better go,” June said. “Steve is waiting in the car.”

“Ok. I’ll see you when?” I asked.

 “When is your case heard?”

“Monday week at 2pm.”

“We will be in court for you. See you then.”

‘Ok. Bye,” I said, and waited for the supervisor to come get me.

“Spencer, come on.”

“That was strange.”

“What was?”

“Oh, nothing really”

I thought about the visit for the rest of the day and then drifted off to sleep.

“OI! Spencer, wake up or you’ll be late for court.”

“Huh, I am not due in court for another 10 days, am I,” I asked weary-eyed.

“Don’t you remember we got a call yesterday telling us your case was brought forward? Look, just get ready. The car will be here for you in 15 minutes.”

I had no idea what was going on, but I hurried into the shower and put on the clothes that the supervisor had got out for me.

“Just in time. The car is here now. Hopefully, we will not see you back here.”

“What do I do with the clothes then?” I asked, curiously.

“Keep them. They are donated from St. Vincent De Paul for kids like you who need good clothes for court appearances. Now get going and goodbye”

“Yeah, ok…”

‘What was going on? This wasn’t part of my past. I was confused.’

“Excuse me, what is the date today, please?” I asked the driver.

“Monday 25 August.”

“Thank you…I think.”

It was warm in the car and I was still tired. I closed my eyes.

Next thing I remember was hearing the gavel hit the desk. “Case dismissed.”

“Okay, Adrian, you are free to go.”

“What do you mean, free to go?”

My stepfather, Steve, came striding up and finished, “Just that. All charges have been dropped due to a lack of evidence. You are free to come home.”

“But what about the birds?” I asked

“Like I said: not enough evidence.” Steve replied. ‘Now come on. Your mum is waiting.”

‘Oh crap.’ I thought. ‘This ought to be good. I bet I get the old ‘I told you so’ from her.’

“Err, yeah, okay.” My head was still reeling from the confusion. “In history I was to get a 12-month good behaviour bond, stay with my mum and Steve and do their bidding.’

My thoughts were running ragged; I didn’t know what was happening. We got to mum’s house and mum went to get something from her room. Steve put the kettle on. “I’m parched. Anyone for coffee?” he asked.

“Yes, please,” mum shouted from the bedroom.

“Err…yes, please.” I added.

 Steve could see that something was bothering me. “What’s up?” he asked.

“I am not sure. Have you ever had the feeling that something should have happened, but the total opposite did?”

“I don’t think so, at least not that I remember.”

Mum arrived back in the lounge with an envelope, addressed to me. “What is this?”

“Open it and see,”

I opened it very carefully. Something inside me did not trust my mum. It was the card from my nanna and inside was the money mum told me about. “Thank you, but…nothing. I need to go for a walk. Be back soon.”

As I walked I heard the voice inside me say, “You made your bed. Now you have to lie in it. When you wake in the morning you will have no memory of ever knowing me and your life will continue as you wished it to. I hope you learn a valuable lesson from this. I do have a warning for you though, actually more like advice. You will still have residual memories from your past but, things will change. I am leaving you now. From now on you are on your own. Your memories of your past life will start to fade, but you will still have them.”

“And that means what?” I asked.

“Well…at first you will have strong memories of the way things are in your future. Events will change yes, and these memories will change also, but the people memories…they will remain forever and will haunt you. I hope you are ready for what lies ahead. It is not going to be pretty. Sure, your life will change, but dealing with memories of events that will never happen from this point on is not going to be nice.”

Suddenly, silence. The voice seemed to stop. ‘He didn’t even say goodbye.’ For the rest of that day I sat watching television.

That night I didn’t want to go to sleep but I was so tired my eyes felt as though they had lead weights on them. Finally, at around 10:30pm, I felt myself drifting off to sleep.

 

Chapter 5

 

            The alarm went off at 7 am. I heard movement in the kitchen and got up to investigate.

            “Mum, what are you…never mind”

‘Why am I still in this situation? Why hasn’t my life experience changed?’ I thought.

            “See you later, Adrian; we are off to work,” mum shouted from the laundry on the way out to the car.

            “Yeah, okay, bye for now.” I waited for the car to leave before starting to talk out loud.

            “Okay, voice what is going on? Why am I still here? Why didn’t things change? HELLO, ARE YOU THERE?”

            Suddenly, I remembered what the voice had said yesterday afternoon.

            So what do I do now? I am free to do and be whatever I want to be. I went to my room and opened the drawer, next to my bed, found a set of keys that looked as though they were for a Chrysler car of some sort. I dressed, picked up the keys and went outside. I tried one of the keys in the lock to the house and it worked. I looked across the road and, sitting in a parking bay, was a green 1968 VE Chrysler Valiant sedan. I walked over and tried the key in the door. With a pop, the push button locking mechanism shot up and unlocked the car. ‘This can’t be my car, I wrote that off in October 1980.’

            I locked the car and went back inside to look at the newspaper that was delivered every day. ‘Tuesday August 26 1980.’ It hasn’t happened yet; the car is still in good condition.

            ‘This doesn’t make sense,’ I thought. ‘Every time I closed my eyes or the room went dark, I woke up in a different time zone. Last night I went to sleep but, when I woke up nothing is changed and it is only the day after.’

            Just then the phone rang. “Hello, Durbridge residence. Adrian speaking.”

            There was laughter on the other end of the line then a voice, “Adrian it’s mum. No need to be so formal. Can you get the large pot out of the fridge and put it on the stove about 3 o’clock please. I forgot to leave a note this morning.”

            “Yeah, mum, okay. Do I turn it on?”

            “No, just leave it. It needs to get to room temperature before I start cooking it through. See you about 4.30. Bye”

            “Yeah, okay, bye.” I hung up the phone and checked the time: 10 am ‘cool, time for a drive,’ I thought.

            I closed the back door behind me as I left, and made sure it was locked. I went over to my car, opened the door again, got in and put the key in the ignition. Turning the key I saw there was nearly three-quarters of a tank of petrol. I was about to start the car when I noticed a police car coming up the street. ‘Oh, great,’ I thought ‘now they are not going to leave me alone.’ I got out of the car and locked it. The police car drove by then, turned around at the end of the street.

            I stood on the side of the road and watched as they came past again. This time they slowed down. The passenger was having a good look at my car. They stopped, grabbed their hats and got out. The driver turned to me and asked, “Is this your car?”

            “Er... yes. Why, is there something wrong officer?” I asked, waiting for the accusations to start.

            “It seems this number plate is on our Vehicle of Interest list. Would you happen to know why?”

            “As a matter of fact, I probably do. A few weeks ago I was arrested and placed in McNally’s for stealing. My car was used in the crime,” I explained, “but the charges against me were dropped yesterday morning, so I thought everything was alright.”

            “Well, I am sorry,” said the officer, “but I will need to do a check.” He picked up his radio and asked for a registration check on the car.

            After a couple of minutes the reply came that the vehicle was on the list, but had been removed and was no longer under investigation. “Roger that.”

            “It's okay constable, it's all clear, we can go.” The officer looked at me, smiled, then apologised for the inconvenience. His partner got in the car and they left.

            I decided it might not be a good idea to go for a drive today, so went back inside, sat down and read the job section of the paper to see whether I could find work.

            There was nothing, so I decided to go for a drive after all. I started the car and drove down the street, over the speed humps slowly at first, but gradually getting faster as I went over each one. By the time I neared the end of the street I was traveling at over 30 km/h over the humps and the car was nearly leaving the ground. I stopped the car just as I went over the second-last one, revved the car to nearly 4500 RPM and engaged the clutch. The wheels spun and smoke billowed out. As the car began to move one of the tyres exploded and my foot came off the brake, the car sped away and hit the speed hump at a speed in excess of 50 km/h. It was then I realised the car had changed direction and was heading directly for the bedroom window of the house on the corner.

            I noticed a woman in the bedroom holding a baby no more than two weeks old, standing at the window looking at me. I tried to brake, but nothing, then with a mighty crash…I woke up in a cold sweat and sat upright, my heart beating at over 100 beats per minute. I looked over and saw my wife fast asleep next to me, I realised then that it all been just a dream, but it seemed so real.

I heard the voice say, ‘And you thought you could do a better job than me. I hope you now realise just how much you really do need me.”

 

 

 

The end or is it the beginning?