Life on Another Planet
Chapter 22: Exposure

Copyright© 2017 by Coaster2

Tuesday, June 12, 2012 4:15pm

The tall, slim, older man entered Norwood Books and approached the owner.

“Hello, I’m Norm Carson. I called you yesterday about a book I’ve been looking for. It’s called Selected Tales of Guy De Maupassant.”

“Yes, I remember,” Grant Norwood said. “I do have a 1950 edition in good condition. That would be the second printing. Would that do?”

“Yes, it would. Thank you,” the man smiled.

“Jesse, would you come here for a moment?” Grant called to that back of the store.

Within a second Jesse appeared from the back and smiled at the customer. What can I do for you?”

“Can you get this book for me,” Grant asked, pointing at the screen.

“Yup. Be right back,” he smiled again, and turned once again to the back of the store.

He failed to see the look on the customer’s face. It was one of shock and bewilderment.

“Who was that?” the man asked Grant.

“Oh, that was Jesse Peterson, my assistant. He’ll have that book for you in no time at all,” Grant smiled.

“Are you certain his name is Jesse Peterson?” the man asked.

“Yes ... I saw his personal identification when I hired him. Why?”

“I think I’m having a moment. He looks exactly like the Jesse Peterson I went to school with over fifty years ago,” the man said, looking confused.

“Well, I hardly think that’s possible,” Grant said warily.

The man was about to say something when Jesse reappeared with a book in his hand. “Here you are, Sir. I believe this is the book you were looking for.”

The man stared at Jesse, not even looking at the book Jesse had handed him.

“Your name is Jesse Peterson?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Did you go to high school in West Vancouver?” the man asked.

Jesse felt his chest tighten. His worst fears were about to be realized. Someone had recognized him.

“Uhhm ... yes,” he answered cautiously.

“Are you related to another Jesse Peterson?”

Jesse shook his head, knowing where this was heading. “No, Sir.”

The man turned to Grant. “I went to school with Jesse Peterson in West Vancouver. This boy is his exact double. I don’t know how it’s possible, but he is identical to my old schoolmate.”

“Is it possible he’s the grandson of this other Jesse?” Grant asked.

The man was shaking his head. “No ... Jesse died the summer after his graduation. I attended his funeral. He had an older sister, but no brothers.”

In the meantime, Jesse was trying to become invisible. He tried to move to the back of the store, but Grant took his arm and held him.

“Can you explain this, Jesse?” he asked.

“No,” he lied.

“What is your name, Sir?” Grant asked.

“Norman Carson. Jesse and I played baseball together on the school team. We were good friends. I may be old, but I’m not senile. I’d know that face anywhere. Your Jesse Peterson is the exact double for my dead friend.”

Jesse was frozen in place. He now recognized the older version of his good friend and third baseman, Norm “Kit” Carson.

“I guess you can see that’s not possible, Sir,” Jesse said cautiously.

“I know that, Jesse, but this is all too coincidental to ignore,” Carson said. “There must be some connection between you and the original Jesse Peterson.”

“None that I know about, Kit,” Jesse said, immediately realizing his mistake.

“What did you say?” Carson asked. “What did you just call me?”

“Uhhm ... I don’t remember. Sorry, my mistake,” Jesse tried.

“Don’t lie, Boy. You called me Kit. I haven’t had that nickname since I was twenty. Now, I want to know who you are and how you knew my nickname,” he stated emphatically.

“Look, this doesn’t sound like the kind of discussion you want to have here. Jesse, why don’t you take the rest of the day off and meet with Mr. Carson. Maybe you can straighten this out between the two of you.”

Jesse sighed, “Yeah ... okay. There’s a coffee shop down the street,” he said resignedly. “We can meet there, Mr. Carson.”

The man paid for his book and walked out of the store with Jesse, neither of them saying another word to each other.

They each ordered a coffee at the counter and found a seat off to one corner of the store.

“Okay, Jesse, what’s going on?” Carson demanded.

Jesse sighed. “You won’t believe me, but I guess lying to you isn’t going to work. I’ll tell you the truth, but you have to swear that you won’t tell anyone else.”

“Why not? What’s so secret that you can’t tell me who you are?”

“I am Jesse Peterson ... the Jesse you knew in high school. We played baseball together. You were third base and I was second. Paul Mantell played short. We had a solid infield and two winning years in a row. My number was 12, same as Gil McDougald, and I had a signature glove of his. Satisfied?”

Carson sat stupefied as Jesse recited the information. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing. How do you know all this?”

“Because I was there!” Jesse snapped. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. I am Jesse Peterson. By some fluke no one can explain, I moved fifty years into the future that summer of 1961. I got sick at the post-graduation dance and went home. After that, it was in bed for several days before they shipped me off to the hospital. According to the hospital records, I died there. But when I awoke last July in that hospital, I was told I was found on a bus stop bench wearing only my pyjamas.”

“But who was in the coffin that I saw at your funeral?”

Jesse was shaking his head. “I don’t know. It might be me and I’m just a copy, but I have all the memories of being the Jesse you knew. I’m not crazy, Norm. I’m living with a psychiatrist and she’s done every known test on me to make sure I’m in my right mind. Now, I have to find a way to make a life for myself in a world where I have a fifty-year gap in information.”

“But ... this isn’t possible,” Carson said, shaking his head in disbelief.

“It isn’t, of course, but here I am and my sister Roberta says it’s me. You know I could never contradict Roberta,” he said, offering a weak smile.

The older man sat back in his chair, staring at Jesse, his mind whirling at this improbable meeting.

“You said I couldn’t tell anyone else about this. Why?”

“Think about it, Kit. I’d be a sideshow freak. If someone wasn’t trying to make money off me, the government would want to dissect me and find out how it all happened. Or ... they could just declare me insane and lock me away in Essondale.”

“There is no Essondale any more,” Carson said as he continued to stare at Jesse. “I guess I can accept that you’re probably right. Your life would be very complicated if this all came to light. Am I the first person to recognize you?”

“No. Roberta is living in Arizona and she recognized me immediately too. I was lucky enough that she had lots of pictures of us from school and at home, so I at least had some souvenirs of Mom and Dad and my grandparents. I’ve got a couple of pictures of us, too. So far, you’re the only other person from my past who’s spotted me.”

“Jesse, we should get together and I can at least tell you about what happened after you died and where a lot of our old pals are today. We’ll have to do this alone, but I’m retired and have time on my hands. Why don’t we plan to get together when you have the time?”

“Okay, Norm. Let’s do that. There’s a lot I don’t know about the missing fifty years, but I would like to hear about our friends. Do you have a cell phone?”

Norm Carson chuckled, “Doesn’t everyone?”

Jesse dialled the phone number Norm gave him and it was immediately stored in both phones. It was one of those handy instructions that Mica had shown him.

“I’m taking some summer night school courses trying to catch up and qualify for university. A hell of a lot has changed in the courses we studied. I’ll catch up to you later this week. I play baseball on Wednesday and Sunday for the Kitsilano Blues. This weekend we’re in New Westminster for a two o’clock game on Sunday. If you can make it, I’d like to see you again. Where do you live?”

“South Burnaby, so it’s not far from my home. I come downtown now and then and this book is why I was here today. I take the Skytrain to avoid parking problems, not to mention the cost. Where do you live?”

“Not far from here near False Creek. I’m living with the psychiatrist who took me in when I had nothing. She’s a great lady and I’m lucky as hell she took pity on me. I had no I.D. or money or anything when I awoke in hospital. You can guess the kind of problems we had getting all that for someone who was supposed to be dead,” Jesse chuckled.

Carson was nodding. “I’ll bet. So, you’re doing okay now? You got a place to live, a job, and you’re going to school still. Any girlfriends?”

“Yeah. Come to the ballgame on Sunday and you’ll meet her. Don’t say anything about my situation, please. She doesn’t know anything about my past.”

“Who does know?”

“Eve, my psychiatrist friend, my sister Roberta, Kirsten Gustafson, a neighbour, and Eve’s father. He’s a scientist-inventor and he and Eve’s mother live in San Diego. Those ... besides you ... are the only people who know.”

“What about that fellow at the book store? He must have overheard our conversation.”

“Good point, Norm. I trust Grant, so I may have to let him in on the secret if he gets too curious. The fewer people who know, the better it will be.”

Norm Carson nodded understanding. They rose, shook hands, and left the store together. Norm headed for the bus to the Skytrain station while Jesse walked back to Grant’s. A glance at his watch told him it was past five o’clock and he needed to see if Grant wanted to ask him about Norm Carson’s visit.


“So, that’s the story, Grant. I’m sorry I didn’t take you into my confidence earlier. I guess I should have expected someone would recognize me sooner or later. You’ve met Eve, so you know she can vouch for me. I sure don’t want to lose this job, so I’m hoping you’ll understand just what a difficult situation I’m in.”

Grant Norwood sat impassively as Jesse relayed his story. It might have been dismissed as fanciful except that Norman Carson had virtually verified it right in front of him. He shook his head.

“I won’t discuss this with anyone else without your permission, Jesse. I don’t know what to make of it to be honest. It’s like something out of the Twilight Zone. But ... you’ve been a good employee and I haven’t had a moment of concern about you in the months you’ve been here, so I guess I can go along with your deception. But I have to warn you that sooner of later ... with the larger circle of people that know about you ... something will get out. It’s inevitable. You should prepare yourself for that eventuality.”

Jesse nodded. “I know. Today was just the tip of the iceberg. There were over three hundred kids in our graduating class, and probably just as many who were a grade or two behind me who might remember me. I hate lying to people, but you know what the consequences of my being discovered might be. I have no way back, Grant. I’m trapped here. If I could go back to where I was I would do it in a heartbeat. But ... as far as I can tell ... that isn’t going to happen.”

Grant felt bad for his friend Jesse. He was in a situation not of his own making. While his story was bizarre ... the evidence said it was true. Theoretically impossible, but true. Together they closed up the shop and went their separate way homeward. Tomorrow would be another day.


“I didn’t have any choice, Eve. Norm recognized me and Grant overheard the conversation. Now there are two more people who know my secret. Grant said the bigger the circle the more likely the secret will be revealed to others. I’m sure he’s right, but I don’t know how to control it. I can deny it, of course, but I’m having trouble making up a story that will deflect all the questions. I have a very unpleasant feeling about my future.”

 
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