Chapter 2

Jeremy stood outside of a bodega downing a half-liter of guava juice. For some reason that he couldn't explain, he had desperately wanted apple juice. The little store didn't have any in the cooler and he had been afraid to ask. He didn't know why but he didn't want to draw any attention to himself.

He stood at the bus station chewing on a meat pie from a street vendor. One of the buses was idling next to the only platform at the station. He asked the vendor where the bus was going and the man replied, "Sao Paulo." The name didn't mean anything to Jeremy but it sounded good. An eerie feeling crept over him that he should have recognized the place. His memory had a lot of scrambled spaces that he couldn't use and it scared him.

He watched an old man totter to a window in the station building and hand over credits. A hand thrust out a piece of paper. The old man snatched it, walked over to the bus, and boarded.

Seeing what to do, Jeremy went over to the ticket window and passed money to a fat lady inside. She handed some bills back to him and a ticket. Jeremy grunted at her and then walked onto the bus. The bus driver took his piece of paper and pointed with his thumb towards the back. Jeremy found an empty seat and sat down next to the window.

Even though the cloth seats looked worn, they felt comfortable to him. He sighed with relief as he sank into the cushioning.

Jeremy glanced surreptitiously at the middle-aged couple sitting across from him. The woman was knitting something with vivid colors and the man was reading a newspaper. The man caught Jeremy staring.

"You want the paper after I'm done?" the man asked politely.

"Yes," Jeremy said, feeling like a wild animal caught in headlights. He turned to stare out the window again.

The engine rumbled as the driver closed the door. Jeremy felt machinery in the bus shift as the driver put it into gear. Pictures of oiled shafts and cogs came into his mind unbidden but he didn't know what they meant. The bus leapt along the streets as if the machine couldn't contain the energies hidden underneath its frame. The feel of its power made Jeremy happy.

He watched the town slip out of sight, wondering where he was going and why. Now that he knew is name, he was content for the moment; however, he knew there was something that he had to do, something that he couldn't remember.

The man placed the first section of the paper in the empty seat next to him.

"Thank you," Jeremy said and he picked up the paper. He stared at the words and fell back into confusion. He could see the words and even pick out one or two of the simple ones, but he couldn't read them. His hands trembled, rustling the pages. He knew that he should he able to read a newspaper.

A big color picture in the middle of the front page looked impressive. Two men stood before a tall building which shone in the sunlight. The picture was taken from slightly beneath the men to catch the height of the towering structure. They were smiling and shaking hands in their fine suits. A group of people stood a few steps behind them. They were well dressed, too. The men were in grey suits and the women were in pretty dresses of red or green or blue. There was one woman dressed in yellow and he took an immediately dislike to her. She looked the same as the other women, dark hair and a normal figure, but something about her dress made him angry.

Flipping through the pages, Jeremy found little else that he could understand. The pictures of people's heads were boring and the other pictures were meaningless without being able to read the words underneath. He put the paper down and closed his eyes for a short nap.

When he awoke, night had fallen. The bus had stopped at another town to pick up passengers. "Fifteen minutes," the driver announced on the overhead.

"How long did I sleep," he managed to croak to his acquaintance across the aisle as they stood up.

"Seven hours," the man said. "You must have been very tired, my friend."

"Yes, thank you," Jeremy replied, blushing for no reason that he could fathom. He waited his turn to disembark and followed the men to the bus station lavatory. As he stood at the urinal trough, his stomach confirmed that a long time had passed. It growled loud enough for the man next to him to chuckle. Three shakes and a hand washing later, Jeremy searched the station for food. Even at that late hour, a vendor had a cart with sandwiches, chips and fruit.

Safely back in his seat, Jeremy tore into his dinner. Halfway through his sandwich, he remembered to chew before swallowing. He had decided to hold onto the bag of chips and at least one piece of fruit for later. But when he looked down around a few minutes later, the bag was empty save for two pits and a wrapper.

Several new passengers had boarded the bus, but none of them took the empty seat next to him. His belly full, he fell back to sleep.

The sunlight teased his eyelids. Jeremy opened his eyes to the mid morning light and was surprised to see urban environs. He guessed they were in the outer suburbs because the buildings were standing amidst jungle that had returned to reclaim large portions of it. South America had been slower than North America to gear up their reclamation projects of the old urban areas.

'Where had that fact come from?' he wondered. He stretched and worked the kinks out of his back and neck. As he looked around the bus, he saw most of the passengers were either awake or struggling to awaken. He picked up the newspaper lying next to him and folded it, trying to tidy up his seat.

He was about to put the paper down when he glanced in the upper right corner. His mouth popped open in shock as he read the date, 30 November 2085. He could read the date, which vaguely surprised him. It had to be a misprint. If not two years had disappeared.

Only later, as the bus pulled into the Sao Paulo station, did Jeremy realize that he could read the date. What in the name of Chaos had happened? One day he couldn't read a word and the next he could read one. He tried to come up with an answer as he walked off of the bus but couldn't.

The Sao Paulo depot was loud and noisy. There were dozens of buses of different sizes and crowds of people. Many people were dressed much better than Jeremy but there were plenty who were dressed in the same peasant garb. Policemen and women were stationed around the building, smiling and acting friendly. Jeremy had an instant distrust of them and put his head down whenever he drew near.

There were children were holding their parent's hands. Others kids were running around unattended. Jeremy had an instant dislike to all of the children. Little bastards, he thought.

He followed the crowd out of the station and into the sunlight. He stepped to the wall of the building to avoid being trampled as he stared up and down the wide boulevard. Confused and at a loss, he was wondering if he should go back inside the depot and ask for help.

A pickup truck pulled up in front of him and blew its horn. "Hey friend," the man sitting in the passenger seat leaned out. "You need some extra credits on a Sunday?"

Jeremy nodded his head and tried to smile.

"Can you bus tables and wash dishes without breaking them?" The man asked. His hair was thick and grey, and his face was a deep rich brown. When Jeremy nodded again, the man told him to climb in the back of the truck. Jeremy had an odd feeling that Manuel climbed into the back of trucks often.

He turned his attention to the city speeding past. The buildings were definitely retrofits with sod covered roofs, trellises coming down from above, and sidewalks shadowed with spreading canopy trees planted next to the curbs. Large flowerpots formed barriers in front of building entrances.

Retrofit? he asked himself, puzzled. What the hell is a retrofit? The exhaust must have had a leak because the water vapor kept seeping out of the sides of truck bed when they stopped at intersections. The steam took his thoughts in a new direction and he lost the thread of his thoughts.

The parts of the city that had been rebuilt were pretty.

They drove to a garage where a larger truck had backed up to the loading bay. His new boss, Lucian, told him to help the others load the larger truck and then find him again for server's clothes. Much to Jeremy's delight, his body was tough and strong, stronger than most of the other men. Even though most of the food and serving gear was on wheels, it was bulky and heavy to move. Grunting and sweating, he more than pulled his weight.

When they asked his name, Jeremy had to think for an instant. "Manuel" he answered, not sure exactly why he had to hide his real name but certain that he did. Everyone exchanged their names and acted normally. Manuel smiled and followed their lead.

Lucian made him strip and shower on a concrete pad out back using a hose. Jeremy dressed in black pants and a white shirt with frills up and down the front. He climbed into the van and listened to everyone talk as they drove out to "the mansion." He set up a mobile kitchen with grills and did grunt work. As advertised he spent the evening washing dishes in the deep sinks of the mansion kitchen proper. Every so often as an item he washed struck him as familiar. He didn't know the names of half the stuff he washed. That bothered him. He thought he should.

Before the serving began, Jeremy found himself talking with a young woman who introduced herself as Amalia. She was tall and thin, without much of a figure but with a nice smile. She was dressed as he was, but she wore a black vest of a server. Her long hair was pulled back in a pony tail. They flirted through out the night.

The party was a sparkling celebration of something Jeremy couldn't comprehend. A huge tent was spread out on the back of the property and the doors to the back of the house were open. Long strips of flexible plastick hung in the doorways to keep the bugs out of the house. The lawns were green and the trees were tall. The lights hanging from the tree branches lent a magical quality to the scene.