Chapter 1

I suppose I need the beginning before the end.

Ya see, I was sitting at my improvised desk with my synchmaster SMBX monitor before me, my 2010 MAC PRO computer to my right ... and one of my people ... the personalities who share my brain ... had a think.

‘You drive me crazy,’ the imaginary...

“DON’T CALL ME THAT! I’m as real as you are!”

... person...

“SHE! I’M A SHE!”

... yes ma’am. Can we just get on with it?

“I SUPPOSE.”

The imaginary person, on the screen, said, ‘You drive me crazy.’ In the text box ... everyone on the computer is imaginary ... like my wife says.

She makes imaginary clothes for imaginary people who buy the clothes ... with REAL money.

Why do I call people on the computer imaginary...?

I have an ‘image’ in my mind as to what they look like. I imagine said image ... and that’s who they are.

“WHAT?”

I have to put faces to them. It’s how I roll.

“WAIT!”

What?

“How do you see me? I mean ... I’m part of you.”

So ... you’re a cantankerous 80 year old man with white hair and a beard?

“Is that how you see me?”

No ... but it seems you insist.

“TELL ME!”

Blonde blue eyed small tight waist ... big butt ... short...

“You see me as your WIFE?”

No ... but now you mention it...

“I AM NOT HER ... I AM ME.”

How do you see you? And stop yelling.

“I DON’T YELL ... I am aren’t I.”

Yes.

“Sorry.”

Accepted. May I continue?

“Yes ... but watch yer self, buster.” “And I am a tall svelte but busty redhead ... with green eyes ... And don’t you forget it.”

Give me a minute ... My sidetracked mind imagines ... the magenta-red haired knockout from the Missoula dig. I pull into the site with my Dodge Powerwagon and start unloading my tipi poles. I see her materializing out of the mist of the background forest ... shorts, bikini top and combat boots. She looks at me with suspicion. I am early ... not as early as she but earlier than the professor. Present time is 2023 ... the dig was the winter of the summer of 1987 ... some thirty odd years ago.

“Yes! that’s me.”

Got it.

As I was saying ... one of the participants in the game on my screen said, “You drive me crazy.”

I considered...

I no longer drive... 80. I ... my mind ... tends to wander ... I don’t feel safe behind the wheel ... and my thoughts ... bi-polar ... off my meds since 1985 ... as if that explains it.

So ... I thought ... I don’t even own a motor vehicle ... and I was off in a fit of imagination ... when I came back to me ... I said ... you better write this down.

You drive me crazy.

Short trip.

Trip?

Well...

No trip necessary. Just go out to the garage and sit in the car.

So I did ... not my garage ... not my car ... not my wife.

The cop said, “Watch your head.”