Interludes and Examinations

The radio turned on.

“Good morning, it’s going to be a beautiful summer day and for all of you school kids out there, the first weekend of summer break. If you’re up at this early hour let’s start the summer right with Blues Traveler, ‘Run-Around’!”

His eyes twitched as his brain kicked in, hearing the lyrics of one of the iconic 90s bands.

Oh,
Once upon a midnight dreary
I woke with something in my head
I couldn’t escape the memory
Of a phone call and of what you said

He smiled in his sleep as he realized it was the radio, turning on and started mumbling the words. Amazing, even half asleep, he could still hear the lyrics in his mind.

Like a game show contestant with a parting gift
I could not believe my eyes
When I saw through the voice of a trusted friend
Who needs to humor me and tell me lies
Yeah, humor me and tell me lies

James groaned, cracking his eyes open to the early morning gloom, he listened to the rest of the song and hummed along to the tunes. He thought about hitting the snooze button but what the hell, it was such an excellent song and it automatically put him in a good mood.

He switched the radio over to the local news station.

He had forgotten what it was like to wake up that way. For the last ten years of his life, his home system’s avatar had always woke him up and give him the morning news summary. Now, he had to do it the old-fashioned way, by listening to the news on the radio, picking up a newspaper, or getting online and reading the news himself.

James listened to the news for a few minutes as they played a report about the release of 120 captured UN peacekeepers, as well as the warning by the Serbians that they would be the last hostages to be freed unless airstrikes ceased.

This was followed by a report on the Air Force F-16 that was shot down yesterday over Banja Luka in Bosnia and the unknown fate of the pilot. Local sources reported seeing a parachute, and there was an unconfirmed report that the Serbian military had captured the pilot. The White House was going to hold a press conference later today, regarding the situation.

He recalled the Marines would not rescue the pilot, Scott O’Grady until the morning of the 11th. If future events followed James’ original history, there would eventually be a book and movie made about the pilot’s shoot down, evasion of Serbian forces, and his eventual rescue. He frowned, thinking about the many other events that would occur this year, and some that already had. Many did not and would not have such a happy ending.

As the station played a report about jury selection for the O.J. Simpson trial, he decided he’d had enough of the news.

Stretching and yawning, he reached over and turned the radio off before he got out of bed. He then put on his watch and walked over to his dresser. Pulling open the drawer with t-shirts, he grabbed an old school shirt that he would not miss and pulled it on. After putting on his socks, underpants and running shorts, he went to the bathroom for his morning rituals and application of sunblock.

When he was done, James grabbed his keys and running shoes and headed downstairs to the front door. He checked his watch as he tied up his shoelaces; it was 5:12 AM, still almost thirty minutes until sunrise.

After closing and locking up the front door, he walked out into the cool morning air, stretching his arms as he did so. It was nice to appreciate the comfort of everyday routine, the security of the familiar, and the tranquility of repetition. At least for a little while.
He heard his vertebrae pop as he rolled his neck while beginning his warm-up stretches. It was a brand-new day, in a different time, and even in a different universe.

That was a lot to digest right there, String theory ... multidimensional realities, and quantum entanglement. With what he knew or was beginning to understand with his new perspective, he could probably write a paper about it. He grinned and started walking to the park to start his morning jog, he couldn’t help but feel exhilarated. He felt like the personification of the mythical phoenix, reborn from the ashes of his original life.

Today, the jog started off better than he had expected. His muscles didn’t feel sore or aching from last night’s jog, like he originally expected, so he managed to finish the first mile in 7:50 and the total measured one-and-half miles in 11:48. His time was just middle of the pack for his current age, but it was a starting point. At least his pacing had improved, and he was more or less able to maintain a decent jog throughout the run.

When he did his first set of push-ups, he was able to perform twenty-five of them nonstop, but by the time his watch beeped at the one-minute mark, he could only complete thirty-seven. Clearly, more upper body strength exercises were going to be needed. His one-minute sit-up performance was somewhat better, as he was able to complete forty-eight repetitions. His core strength wasn’t as bad, but it too would need a lot of work.

Overall, considering that he hadn’t really exercised for about three years, the results were probably to be expected, and James wasn’t too disappointed. The rest of his jog was fairly relaxed as he enjoyed the fresh air and sights of the pond, but he still finished his circuits in less than forty minutes. While he expected that he might feel a bit sore from today, he was in a fantastic mood as he started his walk back home and began his cool-down stretches.

When James got home, he went in, took off his shoes, and put them away. Noticing that no one was up yet, he grabbed what he needed from his room, before heading to the bathroom for a brisk shower. Like yesterday, he had to wait for the water to get to the desired temperature and would have to make do with the weak spray of water. He missed having the smart home system automatically turning on his tankless water heater, and his shower with its multiple, much more powerful shower heads. He knew what Trump was getting at decades ago ... or decades in the future, he always enjoyed having plenty of water to shower with.

When the water temperature was hot enough, he stepped in and relaxed, letting the water wash over him and rinse off the dried sweat. He lathered up the soap and washed everything down, scrubbing every nook and cranny, something he originally would not have done at his current age. To be frank, most guys would probably be satisfied with a quick once-over. After finishing, he turned off the water and briefly watched with satisfaction as the remaining steam rose, pulled out by the ceiling fan. Feeling clean again, James smiled as he got out to towel off.

Afterward, he checked his fingernails and toenails. Thinking they were a bit long and ragged, he grabbed the nail clippers and tidied them up. Next, was some underarm deodorant, but he grimaced when he checked the cabinet. At the moment, he only had what he classified as fragrance: Old Spice. Did his father choose it? It certainly wasn’t what the old James was used to.

At some point, once he had some cash, he would see about getting a decent, odorless, mineral salt deodorant. It would help prevent bacteria from growing, which would actually help to alleviate body odor properly. For the moment, regular deodorant was all he had, so he wiped his underarms with a wipe with a little bit of alcohol and hydrogen peroxide, diluted with water, before applying the deodorant. He then combed his hair, wrapped the towel around his waist, and dumped his exercise clothing in the dirty clothes hamper before heading to his room.

Today was Saturday, so James felt like casual wear: khaki chino slacks, a white polo shirt, and, since it was summer, no socks. As he got dressed, his stomach rumbled in protest of the lack of food. Laughing at himself, he quickly combed his hair and passed by the bathroom to grab the hamper.

James put the stuff in the machine and putting to the right setting, his mother could turn it on when everyone was awake, so he wouldn’t have to worry about that.

Then he sorted towels and his sisters’ clothes into the white and color clothes washroom hampers, before leaving the hamper by the door.

As James headed downstairs, he wondered what he felt like eating for breakfast. Did he want bacon, scrambled eggs, and some toast? ‘Nah,’ he thought. Maybe something a bit more substantial would be better after his vigorous workout. An omelet would hit the spot.

Back in the kitchen, the first thing James did was to clean the coffee maker, opening the lid to pull out the old ground-filled filter basket and then emptying it into the trash. After washing any leftover fine grounds out of the basket, he wiped it with a paper towel and put in a new paper filter, before measuring out 3/4 cup of ground coffee and pouring it in. He then took the carafe and cleaned it thoroughly before filling it with 7 cups of filtered water from the refrigerator’s door water dispenser.

After starting the coffeemaker, he decided that from now on it would be worthwhile to clean and fill it at night, programming it to start brewing at 5:45 AM. That would save him a bit of time in the morning, in case he had to do something early in the morning or was running late for whatever reason.

With that task complete, he opened the fridge and pulled out a partial stick of butter, some bell peppers, and a carton of eggs, grated cheese, ham, and a large onion. Starting with the ingredients for the filling, he chopped up about two cups worth of bell pepper, ham, and minced onion, each. After putting the unused remainder of the ham, he then cracked a dozen eggs into a mixing bowl and beat them with a whisk, before adding a 1/4 cup of milk. After adding a little bit of ground garlic and white pepper, he continued beating the eggs until the yolk and white were completely mixed.

The prep work completed, he took a small frying pan and put it on the stove, set the flame on medium-high.

Once the pan was hot enough, he poured some olive oil onto it and made sure that the oil spread out evenly. When the oil began to striate, he added the filling and stir-fried it until the onions started turning translucent. When the filling was ready, he scraped it all into a bowl with his spatula, before adding a tablespoon of butter and making sure that it coated the bottom of the pan as it melted.

After whisking the eggs and some water, to make sure that the garlic and pepper were evenly mixed, he then poured about a cup of beaten eggs into the pan. He rolled the pan ever so slightly to allow the eggs to swirl and cover the bottom completely. When the egg was firm enough, he sprinkled some grated cheese on the quickly cooking egg, then took a cup of still-hot filling and poured it into the center of the eggs. When the cheese melted, he then folded the sides over the filling to complete the omelet and transferred it to a breakfast plate.

James continued to repeat this until all five square omelets were finished, putting a cover plate on top of four of them. After turning off the stove and putting the pan in the sink, he dropped a couple of slices of toast into the toaster and set it at medium-light. He then grabbed a large mug and poured about a quarter cup of milk before he poured the hot coffee into the mug. Afterward, he scooped a teaspoon of sugar into his coffee and stirred it.

Deeply breathing in the aroma, James closed his eyes for a moment. “Ah the simple things in life,” he sighed.

He then grabbed a knife and fork before taking his coffee and breakfast to the dining room table. Sitting down, he raised his coffee mug in a salute and said, “bon appétit!” After taking a sip of his coffee with an “ahh,” James dug in.

By the time Karen walked into the kitchen, James had eaten his omelet and had finished cleaning everything else up, and was in the midst of putting it all away. She greeted him tiredly as he said, “good morning.”

Noticing the scent of coffee and eggs, she seemed to perk up. “You made breakfast?”

“Yes, I made coffee and omelets. I just finished eating, but everyone else’s plates are still on the counter. They’re probably still warm, but you can microwave yours for fifteen seconds if you want it hotter.”

“It smells really good,” she said, sounding somewhat surprised.

“Just something I threw together.” James finished cleaning up while his mother took his suggestion and nuked her omelet.

“Would you like some toast?”

“Yes please.”

He popped the bread into the toaster and pushed down the lever and waited, one thing that James noticed while he was waiting, in the short time that he has been back, was that he was getting better at the observation of minutiae. For example, as he surreptitiously observed his mother from the corners of his eyes, he noted the signs that Karen was taking care of herself to look great.