Chapter 1

At first I had assumed I was dreaming. I’ve had the dream before, waking up in my old room at home. But in dreams something always happens, that if you were thinking logically you would know it wasn’t a dream. And nothing did. It took less than fifteen minutes to become very afraid. I couldn’t see myself. I mean I could, but not my whole self. I was seeing through my own eyes. And I ran to the bathroom

Think ... think. What am I doing here? I looked in the mirror and saw a kid from home movies and old photos looking back at me. How old am I? I had no idea. My hair was still long and curled-on the ends. Not the fro it turned into in high-school on its own. Still blonde so it must be summer. I ran back to my room I shared with my younger brother. He was still asleep. I was tempted to wake him. But stopped myself and sat down afraid.

When I had first woken up, I had been pretty happy at the dream. In my old bedroom with posters on the walk I forgot I had. Some I knew- the hulk Superman Wonder Woman poster. Cheryl Ladd in a running suit, nothing very sexy. My mom had made me take down the Farrah poster and had explained to me that it was exploiting women, and what I saw in magazines I stole from my dad wasn’t real. Thinking about that awkward moment much later I had realized she didn’t want me to be a pig like him.

My bookcase, with my books numbered and initials in each one- mostly from the scholastic book service. I didn’t get an allowance, we didn’t have much money. So most books were bought by not eating lunch, and saving my lunch money, when I had it. Thinking about it, I was older than 12 because the book case had a couple of Bobbsey Twins novels and an assortment of Nancy Drew. I had gotten those my best Christmas ever when we all got the best toys and bikes and I got a box of books with Jules Ffeifers superhero book, and mad magazine books and a collection of marvel comics in paperback form. As well as funnily enough Fat Freddy’s cat- my mom had no idea it was alternative.

And I had no idea at the time she was overcompensating because she was thinking about divorcing my dad who was cheating on her with my aunt ... not a real aunt but married to a friend of the family ... close friends were aunts and uncles because I guess we couldn’t call adults by their first name and calling someone Mr. or Mrs. so and so, with people you saw at holidays and gatherings was strange.

I sat back on my bed and the world spun- I hadn’t thought about this in years, and as usual in families I had none of the complete details, just what I had been filling in. Christ. What in the Hell was I doing here. I had no doubt I was here. My memory is horrible but the details were too real. The floor was not yet carpeted but particle board. We had moved in too our house in the woods in 77, unfinished. It never would be. If I didn’t feel the texture under my feet I would have never remembered that detail. My brothers side of the room was decorated with posters he got from natural geographic world. The snow monkey, several animals. It’s not that he was into it, it’s that he had a subscription as a gift and it came with posters and he didn’t get an allowance either.

An alarm went off - flip numbers electric clock radio. WMMS filled with static. How in the hell do I turn it off? My brother stirred, I had to get out of the room. What in the Hell am I supposed to do? Think. Think. The alarm went off, so it’s not summer. School I have to go to school. It had to be high school. It was 6:40. I must have text books. By 6:30 Mom’s already gone for work, to teach in Upperville the town next to ours. Dad’s asleep, he works the late shift at Ford.

I made my way through the dining room, where we never ate, to the kitchen, on the table was a box of donuts. A tear started to come to my eye, Dad would randomly pick up a box of donuts with everyone’s favorites in it sometimes after work. I sat down on the bench, four separate piles of lunch money were laid out. I couldn’t go to school.

I’ve read enough to know that a lot of these back in time things are comical in the amount of details. Not only did I not have a memory, not only did I barely remember a few teachers and no idea what grade they taught, not only did I not have a clue to which classes I had, I did not even have a best friend, or any friends.

We lived in the woods, there was one cute girl on our street and that was it. We did not play together - we did not grow up together. We moved here to the woods in, was it 77? 78? Before 79 at least. We went to church in a different town- I had no friends, I was odd, I hated sports, we had no money. We had well water and when I took a shower I smelled worse, thanks to the sulfur. My clothes were out of date and stained orange from our water. And I showed up at school with mud on my shoes from our driveway that lead to our house 13 acres from the road ... I was not going to go through this Hell again. Nothing could make me. I hated this town, it wasn’t even a town everything old had been knocked down, it consisted of a couple of strip malls, fast food, and former farms now developments. It wouldn’t be any better 40 years later. 40 years later. I grabbed a donut and sat down. They tasted the same. I had one last week when I visited my dad in the nursing home. Same exact taste. I finished and had another. That was the benefit of getting up first.

“You’re not eating my donut are you?” I looked up and my brother Steve, the third oldest was standing in the kitchen. Steve doesn’t eat donuts as an adult. He’s fit, rich, a proud father of 5 kids, all who I love. I just saw him last week, But right now he’s a little kid standing in the kitchen, can’t be more than 8 or 9, and I’m eating my second chocolate covered donut and I have no idea what his favorite donut is. And I’m the most scared since I woke up. What if I did something in this moment that changes his life? What if I ate his donut causing him to have a bad day and some butterfly effect thing kept my nieces and nephews from being born- something that causes the wrong sperm by 2 seconds to hit the egg and instead of the brilliant kids I know he fathers the bad seed?

I brush past him and his potential sperm futures back towards my room. My brothers room ... ducking into the hall bathroom I lock the door behind me. What in the Hell am I going to do? I have no money, I mean none, I know general things about the future but nothing that can make me money. Sports? Please I have a general idea of super bowls and Jordon, Lebron and Kobe but who did what what year? I only know the Browns never make it to a super bowl, or the Indians. Knowing I should someday invest in Microsoft or Apple does me no good now. And I can’t go to school...

40 minutes later I’m sitting on the bus. If I’m a freshman- and my books are no clue to what grade I’m in- just what I’m studying- it will be another two years before my brother is on this bus with me. I’m sitting by myself fresh out of an egg water shower and running down the drive. It seemed safer than interacting with my family. I recognize no one on the bus, but Elise, my neighbor, who I only recognize because she got on on my street.

I’ve read some excellent time travel do over stories and they always get to sex. I grew up in the 60’s and 70’s when youth culture is worshipped. And teens hyper-sexualized ... Debbie does Dallas was about high school kids. Playboy models were 18. The truth of the matter that everyone on our bus is a kid. I mean they look like kids. Not sexy. I’m sure at the time I found them sexy. But as a 53 year old, the fantasy was killed. The only thing I was thankful for is at 53 I didn’t have much of a sex drive.

Most of the kids were my age, seniors and juniors probably drove, so maybe they looked like adults. Not that that did me any good. Because the truth of the matter is that I lived in California, at the age of 18, I, like all beautiful (or in my case creative) people hot footed the hell out of the Midwest. I had an idea of multicultural beauty, and saw on average 50 people better looking than anyone I ever met, everyday. Let me tell you, in 1980, or whatever year it was, kids in the Midwest were very blah. Even the popular ones were only popular, on looks at least, when compared to others around them. I knew my town was ugly and boring, I forgot the people were too.

Nobody sat next to me on the bus. Which was strange as I was the 2nd one picked up. No one said “Hi Jack” I was a loser ... but it shaped who I became and ... my wife ... How am I going to meet her now? I can’t recreate us falling in love. I’ve seen groundhog day. Over and over. You can’t force love. And anyways, I wouldn’t meet her until I was in my 30’s. What was she doing now. Had my body been found? The last thing I remember was going for a run. I hated running, but after my triple bypass it was the one exercise I could put up with. Last time I was home I ran to my old home from my parents new one. It took less time than this bus ride.

The busses all merged on the school. The school an amalgamation of the old high school and a newer wing. If I was a freshman that’s where I was to go for homeroom. I had no idea where to go. And I wouldn’t have any friends to lead me there. I had an English book an Algebra book and some history notes in my bag. I probably had a locker somewhere. I also had a mead trapper, but no such luck to a schedule in it.

I was pretty sure it might be September based on the trees outside. Not yet turning color. So maybe I could ask for a new one, without it being suspicious. I’d have to go to the office. I didn’t recognize anyone. Adults or students. Some cheerleaders were wearing uniforms. Short skirts, and I caught myself looking at their legs. I walked up to one.

“Excuse me?”

“Yes?” She didn’t sound as bubbly as she looked. But she was almost pretty and had very pretty eyes.

“Do you know where the office is?”

“That’s original”

“I’m sure, but really.”

“Grow up.” And she walked away with her fellow blue short skirted friend.

Oh well, Kelly would find this funny when I told her ... Kelly is my wife. I decided not to talk to anyone else and walked around looking for the office feeling very lonely and sad. I loved my wife. I just loved being with her. Somewhere I must have done something wrong because I was in Hell.

Eventually a bell rang and all the milling students disappeared. Pavlov’s dogs, I laughed. “Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage.” Crazy. I’m singing a song by a band I can’t remember that isn’t even together yet.

“You lost kid? “ I looked up and a man younger than me, dressed in a crumpled suit that strained to fit him made a beeline for me.

“Yeah, I’m lost ... sir.” The sir came natural, this guy had ass written all over him.

“Where you supposed to be?”

“Don’t know.”

“Come on, let’s sort you out,” and he grabbed my arm and started pulling me down the hall.

I had zero recollection of the office or anybody in it. I can tell you one thing, no sexy person was waiting for me to form a relationship. The high school office was a stark reminder, “gather your rosebuds while you may for time is fleet and dying...”.

After they printed out my schedule I looked at it and then at the woman who handed it to me. I glanced at it, it had the date, September 4, 1980 printed in dot matrix at the top. Sadly I was about to look really stupid.