Chapter 8

It was the following Friday before I finally heard from the voice again. I was still worried about whether Mr. Stopak's death signaled a huge change in things. I had also started worrying that the voice might blame me for causing it in some way. I had made good use of my time off from the Market, spending most of everyday with Carolyn and her brother and sister. Every morning we'd take the little kids to the playground and let them run themselves completely out of energy. Once we got them back home for their naps, Carolyn and I had at least two hours of quiet and privacy to make love, and cement our budding relationship. I usually took her somewhere in the evenings, out to dinner, or to the movies. Twice we had gone back to the Bolling Field fence to make love again. By now, Carolyn was the one who took control, and made sure that I did exactly what she wanted me to. I had spent more time eating her pussy than I had eating pussy the whole time of my first life. She absolutely loved having that done to her. She had even gotten to the point where she was able to give me a decent blow job while I ate her out on the sofa.

Jimmy, get up and get dressed and leave right now. It was the voice. On the whole, I was relieved to hear it again. I was in the middle of a very nice sixty nine with Carolyn. Both of us were near cumming. I stopped what I was doing.

<Why?>

Her stepfather is going to be there in less than ten minutes.

<Are you sure?>

Suit yourself then, but this is going to cause a big change, and you aren't going to like the consequences. I got up and dressed in a hurry.

"Get dressed Carolyn. Your stepfather is coming."

"No he isn't, Jimmy. He never comes home before five o'clock. How would you know if he was anyway?"

"Carolyn, I'm leaving. I can't tell you how I know, but he'll be here in a few minutes. I'll come back to see you tonight." I went to the screen door, unlocked it, went outside, and started walking towards home. I never looked back, not even once. I trusted the voice on this one.

<Why did Mr. Stopak die this time around, when he didn't die now the last time around?>

Minor glitch only. You'll find small anomalies like that in any large program, Jimmy. There are a lot of variables, and many possible outcomes. Mr. Stopak didn't get the right doctor assigned to him this time when he went in complaining of shortness of breath and dizziness. The doctor he got this time was more concerned with why his stock holdings in Studebaker keep dropping. Bad luck for Mr. Stopak, he could have lived another three years with the right kind of medical care.

<That's it? It's all hit or miss?>

No, not any of the important stuff. All of that is choreographed to a fine point. Only the insignificant things are left somewhat to chance.

<I doubt if this was insignificant to Mr. Stopak, or to his wife and son.>

No, to them it was terribly important. It was insignificant though to the fabric of this time line.

<What about me? Am I insignificant too?>

You might be. I haven't really made up my mind yet. Until I do, I'm looking out for you. Carolyn's insignificant to the time line, but her stepfather isn't. If he had caught the two of you, it would have been difficult, perhaps very difficult, for me to repair the damage.

<If you had been around, taking care of things, would Mr. Stopak still be alive?>

I was here. It just never came up that I needed to fix anything. You seem to think that I have my finger in everything. That isn't the case at all. If it was, I'd never get anything done. Speaking of getting things done, I hope you appreciate me getting Carolyn to forgive you.

<Of course, you'd take credit for that, whether you did anything or not.>

Who do you think sent her to the market in the first place? Who kept sending her mind back to remembering how nice it felt when you made love to her? These things don't work out so easily without help from somewhere. I could tell that you wanted to get back together with her. That's okay though, I don't expect thanks from you. Anybody else, yes, but not from you.

<I would say thank you if you were doing something that I'd asked for.>

Really, Jimmy? I'm not too sure that I believe that. Up until now, you haven't seemed to appreciate anything that I've done for you. When I took your pain away before, that's the last time I remember getting a thank you from you.

<I thanked you for not throwing me in front of that truck.>

You never did! You told me later that you were glad I didn't kill you, but that isn't the same as saying thank you.

<Here. Thank you for all of the good things that you've done for me. I really appreciate all of them.>

That didn't sound very sincere. Besides, it doesn't mean anything if you get thanked after you had to ask for it.

<I give up. There just isn't any pleasing you. If I had known that you were going to keep such close tabs on me, I might not have agreed to our original deal.>

Then you'd be dead right now, Jimmy. Is that what you want? It wouldn't take much for me to turn your wish into reality for you.

<Maybe that isn't what I want, but you do take a lot of the fun out of living. This isn't what I had hoped for or expected. I expected to be left alone to do whatever I wanted to do this time around. I wanted a chance to avoid all of my past mistakes.>

I would like you a lot better if you tried to make the best of what is possible, instead of always lamenting what can never be. This is a very good deal for you, Jimmy. Better than any deal I've ever given, or that I am likely to give to anyone else. Your dissatisfaction, considering how I've bent over backwards for you, is getting to be a major irritant to me.

<Your refusal to provide me with exactly what we agreed on isn't exactly endearing you to me.>

If you get too dissatisfied, Jimmy, you can sulk and whine. If I get too dissatisfied, on the other hand, we both know what can happen.

<You can kill me if that's what you want to do. It still won't make what you're doing by not living up to the terms of our deal any more justified.>

It would still stop your incessant complaining though, wouldn't it?

<Yes, it would. That's the way that all tyrants try to quiet honest dissent.>

So, now I'm a tyrant?

<That's how it appears to me.>

Why don't we just take a minute to review what has taken place in our relationship so far, shall we? You were dying, and painfully so, and you were reaching out, desperately looking for some small glimmer of hope for some type of a reprieve from your fate. I responded to your pathetic call for help, and gave you much more than what you were asking for. Instead of being grateful, as any normal person would be, you attempt, almost immediately to improve on our original deal. Is this a fair characterization of what has happened so far? If so, where is the tyrant? If not, where have I erred in reconstructing what actually occurred?