Time And Time Again, Chapter 1

Best Novella

Author’s note: Each of Michael’s adventures or episodes are based on real events. I’ve done a little research in order to write about the event. Some of the characters mentioned are historic figures. But the actual story, dialog, and occurrences are complete fiction.

Time And Time Again

Chapter One: The Beginning

         “Welcome back, Michael.”

         “Where have I been?”

         “That’s what you’re supposed to tell me.”

         “Tell you? What do you mean, I’m supposed to tell you? Who are you?”

         “I’m someone who cares for you right now. We are working together on a special project.”

         “Special project? Wait a minute. Where am I?”

         “Where you have been for a little while now.”

         “Hold on a sec. Start over please. Why am I lying here like this? And again, who are you?”

         “You may call me Ishmael.” As he said this, he fought hard to hide a smile. Moby Dick had always been a favorite book; he found he related well to that character.

         “Ishmael huh. Nice. But you didn’t answer my question, Ishmael.”

         “Michael, there’s a goal we’re working towards, something we want to accomplish. It can’t be done without you. You are not a guinea pig for us. Being here is entirely voluntary on your part.”

         “You mean I can leave when I want?”

         “Yes, Michael. That’s exactly what I mean.”

v“Suppose I wanted to leave now?”

         “Then I’d have no choice but to let you go. After you tell me where you were.”

         As Ishmael was speaking, Michael’s mind seemed to shift to a new plane, or new level. His mind slowly cleared as his memory of where he was before he woke returned. Ishmael could see the change in his demeanor, a light flush coming to his gaunt cheeks. Michael looked at his surroundings some, his gaze coming to rest on his reflection in the mirror. He knew that man in the mirror, hair starting to gray around the temples, curly locks atop his head. “At least I’m not going bald anytime soon.” he thought. With that thought in mind, he lay back on his pillow, and for the first time noticed the soft sounds in the room. There was the low beeping of machines that he couldn’t see, the quiet whirring of fans nearby, both mixed with a myriad other noises he couldn’t identify.

         The quiet solitude of the room was broken by the entrance of a young woman.

         “Good morning gentlemen. Can I get either of you anything?”

         “Morning Michelle, I am fine, but not sure about Michael here.”

         Hearing her name, Michael couldn’t help thinking of the Beatles song, and said, “Michelle, my Belle.” A soft smile gracing his wan features as he said it.

         “Michael, you are such a ham. You always greet me that way.”

         “I do? I’m sorry, my memory has failed me there.”

         “I’m not surprised really. You’ve been through a lot you know, so having a fuzzy memory when you first return is not too surprising.” She looked Michael over intently, her gaze shifting from him to the nearby equipment. Her light brown hair framed her facial features, wiry glasses perched perfectly on her slender nose. Freckles adorned her face, most noticeably around the bridge of her nose. She smiled broadly as she looked closely at the instruments and their indications, humming a small tune under her breath as she did. Her hand moved over the tablet she held in her hand, Michael could only assume she was jotting down notes. Finished with her task, she looked over at Michael once more.

         “You’ve seen others like me in the past?”

         “No Michael, you are the first, that’s why it’s so important that you are monitored properly. We have to document what happens just in case----” As she said this, she blushed furiously as if she was afraid she’d said the wrong thing.

         Michael ignored her discomfort and replied, “I wish I knew what I was first at. I’ve never been known to be first in anything.”

         “Rest assured, you are first here. And you won’t be the first to forget me either. You know how it is.”

         “Michelle, I don’t want to forget you, at least not for long.” As they chatted back and forth, Ishmael watched and listened intently. It was obvious the two of them had a nice rapport that deepened more as he observed them.

         “Well, you will never forget me permanently, I’m the one who wears yellow sneakers almost all the time.”

         “Ahhhh----” Michael stopped himself in midsentence. He knew he should know Michelle better, but his brain wasn’t functioning fully yet. He felt a sudden ‘lurch’ in his mind, and realized he and Michelle shared a something few had, despite their age difference. He knew he was about thirty years her senior since he was now fifty nine. Starting his thoughts and statement over, he said, “Ah, if you were only twenty years older, we’d make quite the pair, since I love wearing yellow socks. My socks, your shoes, you know…”

         Michelle couldn’t help herself, and laughed at this. “Michael, I’ve lost track of how many times you’ve said that, but it always makes me laugh. But seriously, is there anything I can get you this morning?”

         “I think I’m fine, considering I seem to be confined to this bed.”

         At this point, Ishmael broke in and said, “Remember, Michael, you are not confined. You are free to leave at any time.”

         Michelle spent a few moments fussing with things around the room, then left as suddenly as she appeared, waving to the men as she departed.

         “Michael, do you think you can now tell me where you were?”

         Michael nodded his head, realizing he now knew the events of his recent past. Slowly he began to tell Ishmael where he had been, and what he did while there. A far off look came to his eyes as he slowly recalled his experiences. He spoke quietly, almost as if he was in a trance as he recounted where he had been.

Jim Dorrell
8/18/19