Second Chance

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

He sat at his desk, an old oak one that his father rescued during the bank’s reconstruction three years ago, and tried to write down what he remembered from the dream. It was Ewa’s suggestion that he did it, to write. Micah had told her what he remembered. Though she thought it happened in another reality, it would be the beginning of a good short story.

It hadn’t been long since he gave up the dream of becoming a writer. He wanted to write novels, write short stories, earn a living telling stories and travelling from city to city talking about it. He had a desk full of handwritten complete short stories and novellas. He had outlines for novels. His parents were behind this vision of his life. That was until a year ago.

Nathan Vaughn came home from a long day of work and took his son aside. “Computer, Chance, computers are what you should take in college.”

“What makes you say that? You know I want to be a writer.”

Nathan looked at his son and explained. “I was talking with the computer people today. They asked me if you had thought of studying programming when you go to college. I told them that you weren’t, that you had your heart set on becoming a writer.

“They told me that in the next five years, all records kept by banks, law offices, stores, even the government are going to be moved to computer storage. It would be wise for me to tell you that you should at least take it as a minor, but I told them you’re going to the County College first.

“Micah, they told me you should take computer courses. They added that you’ll make more money, too.”

The teenager thought about it, and the more he did, the more sensible it become. He could always come back to writing, or do some in his free time. There’s only one chance for him to be a Computer Science major, and that was when he was 18.

He looked at what majors were available at the community college. They did not have any in computer science or data processing, just offered a few computer courses. He didn’t know what to do, was ready to see what the other local community college, Hudson Valley Community College in Troy, had as majors, but talked with a counselor. She informed him that the school received approval to offer Computer Science as a major, but it would not do so until the fall semester of 1983. She suggested that he take Math and Science courses in addition to those required for all incoming freshmen. She told him that if he wanted, he could also take a Creative Writing course, since the subject of him being a writer came up.

Micah had one sentence written, “The green trees that surrounded the dark lake made him wish that he was there as a tourist and not to kill two men,” and thought about tossing it. To him, it didn’t sound like what he saw, what he dreamt. It was, as a teacher once said about a piece of fiction he handed in, “Though it sounds good, it’s a little forced.”

“No, don’t do it,” the voice said.

Why not? It sounds somewhat forced. It’s not like how I usually write. It’s not in my voice. For the first time since the morning, Micah welcomed the Presence. He had someone to help him write, something he’s lacked but greatly wanted.

“Ewa told you to write down the dream, to get the story out and going.”

I was there. I know what she told me.

“Then do as your older sister said. Once it’s completed, you can always return and edit it.”

Why didn’t you stop me from listening to Ewa and her Multiverse idea? That sounds crazy, something out of one of the sci-fi books I read.

“To be honest, it does explain why I’m in your mind.”

For the first time, the Presence or Voice or whatever acknowledged it, admitted it didn’t know why he/it inhabited Micah. The admission didn’t frighten the teen. Rather, it made him feel less upset. Thanks for being honest. Can you tell me who you are?

“I don’t know if I can, if I should. Let’s see the professor on Monday first. I want to hear what he has to say.”

Micah paused, ready to ask the Presence a question, when it spoke.

“Let’s get back to the dream, shall we?”

Yes, let’s get back to this. Can you give me a little help, please?

“Why do you think I can do that, help you?”

I don’t know, maybe you too saw the dream; maybe you can fill in some of the blanks. Micah felt any help was positive.

“What do you remember of it?”

Micah closed his eyes and remembered.

“Write that down,” the Presence said. “Just write what you remember. We can go back and fill in what’s later remembered.”

Why didn’t I think of that? Micah picked up his pen and furiously wrote the dream, the action. In the margins, he made notes on emotions he felt during certain actions. He had torn through six pages before he looked up at a clock.

We need to stop here. I need to shower and get dressed.

“Yes you do,” the Presence voiced. Micah signed heavily. “Are you still nervous about tonight?”

Yes, the teen said. He couldn’t like to the Presence. It was in his mind and soul, could read his thoughts, and feel his emotions.

“I can tell you that you have nothing to be nervous about. You’ll do fine.”

How do you know? You’re not me. You’ve not gone through this before.

“I just know. Do you think that Antoinette isn’t nervous?”

Micah admitted to himself that he never thought about Antoinette being nervous. To him, she was a very confident girl, someone that made him feel the same way. To him, Antoinette was never nervous. I know if I say no, you’ll tell me I’m wrong.

“Micah, she’s nervous. She’s a teenage girl. She’s going to worry about her gown. She’s going to worry about her make-up. She’s going to worry how you’ll react to meeting her friends.

“Do you think Antoinette’s not thinking about how you’ll react meeting her friends? Micah, you have nothing to worry. You just act and be yourself and you’ll be fine.”

I guess you’re right.

“Guess nothing, I know I am, and you know it, too.” Micah chuckled and shook his head. He sighed heavily and made his way to his bathroom.

Are you going to be with me tonight? Can you, like, leave me alone when I’m with Toni?

“If that’s what you want.”

Yes, that’s what I want.

“Then I’ll leave you two alone.”

For the first time since the morning, Micah didn’t feel the Presence. He was alone, but did wonder where it went. He turned on the hot water and forgot about it.



Antoinette sat on the edge of her bed, her gown fitting perfectly. She was nervous again. Lunch with Dianne did calm most of her fears. She no longer worried about her ex-boyfriend causing trouble. “So what if he’s upset with Micah being there? I have enough friends to help get him away from us.”

She no longer worried about how he would be with her friends. Dianne was correct: he would have no trouble being with her friends. Proof of that came during the football game last fall: Micah made them all smile and feel he cared about Antoinette. She smiled thinking of how it made her feel about him.

The knock on her bedroom door brought her back from that day. “Can I come in?” her mother asked.

“Yes, please.” Antoinette stood and moved to her closet door, to the full-length mirror. She looked at her self again and smiled.

“Oh my, you look beautiful,” her mother whispered. For the first time in her daughter’s life, Margaret De Fiore saw Antoinette as a beautiful young woman, no longer her little girl. She looked at how the peach and white gown, one they argued over, fit on her.

“Do you really think so? Do you think my makeup’s good? Is my hair okay?”

“Honey, you’re perfect. Everything’s fine.” Mrs. De Fiore turned away from her daughter and wiped away a tear, one shed because she lost her little girl tonight. Now, she had a young woman as a daughter.

The teen sighed and sat on her bed. She looked at her mother with concern in her eyes. “Mom, I’m worried.”

“Are you still thinking about Micah?” Mrs. De Fiore sat next to her daughter and hugged her. She kissed the side of her head. “We’ve had this discussion before. You have nothing to worry about with him.”

“It’s not just him. Yes, I know you’ve told me not to worry. He’ll be fine. It’s more than that.”

“Is it Thomas?” Thomas Middleton met Antoinette when they were 14, though attending different schools. The relationship, based on friendship and respect, ended in 1980, just before she met Micah. He never quite got over the breakup.

“Yes, it is. Dianne told me this afternoon that I didn’t need to think about him. She told me if anything does happen, she’ll take care of it. She and my other friends will.”

“Of course they’ll help. Who were the ones that told you to break up with him?”

Antoinette laughed. “Yes, I guess they’ll help.”