Chapter 32: Snow, Money, and Romance

February 11, 1983

We had a show scheduled for this evening; we'd booked a Friday night slot at one of the campus pubs. It was to be my first gig with Lightning in a Bottle that wasn't specifically for friends and family. But it didn't happen.

Oh, don't get the wrong idea. It wasn't because of any misdeeds on my part, or a resumption of intra-band discontent. Not this time. Rather, the blame fell squarely on Mother Nature.

The snow started falling early that afternoon, and within a few hours had reached blizzard intensity. It was quickly apparent that the show would have to be postponed. This was confirmed in short order by way of a phone call from Paul, who had pretty much assumed the role of band manager, and handled all of our bookings. This was something that he and I had done together in the other life.

"No show tonight," he told me brusquely. "The forecast looks terrible, so we've agreed to postpone it."

"Will there be a make-up date?"

"I'll get back with you about that," he replied, and then quickly ended the call. Hey, at least he'd taken it upon himself to let me know, instead of telling Eileen or Inez to call me.

As the old cliché goes: Rome wasn't built in a day.

And as consolation, I got to enjoy being snowed in on a Friday night with my girlfriend and my dorm pals. There are much, much worse ways to spend an idle evening.

Some quick thinking on our part enabled us to get first crack at borrowing a VCR from the residence counselor's office. We connected it to the color TV in the room of Dennis and Barry, and then settled in and watched "Fast Times at Ridgemont High". When it was over, Barry opened up one of his dresser drawers, and produced a VHS tape that contained our next source of entertainment. Namely, a low-budget X-rated movie. There is something deliciously titillating about taking in a porn flick as part of a mixed-company gathering. It certainly got Julia worked up. It wasn't long before she and I had retreated to her room. We spent a good part of the night putting into practice what we'd watched.

The next morning, the sun was shining brightly in a cloudless blue sky. However, it was frigid, windy, and there was about two feet of snow on the ground. Even though it was Saturday, the whole gang went to breakfast together at the dining hall. Once again, Barry was the creative force behind our next activity.

"Touch football in the snow," he suggested with a grin.

Six of us were game. Besides myself, Barry, Dennis, and Kevin, there was another one of our neighbors, Ron Wiggins. The one girl brave enough to join us, naturally, was none other than my Julia.

So, we put on our heavy coats and boots and wandered out into an open area not far from the dorm. We had to stick branches into the knee-deep virgin snow to mark the end zones. We played three on three; it was me, Julia, and Dennis against Barry, Kevin, and Ron. The whole thing was comical as it was impossible to move quickly in snow that deep. I played quarterback, and we learned right away that Dennis' height was a huge advantage in these conditions. I just kept throwing him quick, high passes, and we moved downfield at will. He proved to be quite agile for such a big guy.

And then, on one play, I decided to mix it up, just for shits and grins. I told Julia to go long. I snapped the football, scrambled to the right to avoid the rush, then to the left, and then back to the right, faking a couple of passes to Dennis. But this time, I was just using him as a decoy. Finally, I turned and threw the ball as far as I could across my body, falling backwards into the snow as I did so. Julia, ignored by the defense, had trudged her way down the left "sideline". She settled under the long pass, and to everyone's astonishment, caught it for a touchdown. I barreled my way through the snow until I reached her, and planted a big kiss right on her mouth.

"That's one end zone celebration I've never seen before," Dennis laughed. "The quarterback making out with the receiver."

February 14, 1983

In my other life, Valentine's Day had never held much significance for me. During those years when my life status was "married", I'd viewed it as an occasion when, if I behaved myself and was reasonably generous, I'd definitely be getting laid. At other times, February 14 would come and go with no acknowledgment of any kind from me.

This was my third Valentine's Day in this life. The first time, I'd been with Diana, sort of. Since our relationship had never been heavy on romance, we'd done nothing special that day. I recalled that I'd gone to her place after school, we'd had typical wild sex in her room, and that was that. It was business as usual. And then, last year, I'd been smack dab in the middle of my own personal Dark Ages.

However, this year, I had someone special in my life, which gave Valentine's Day a new and different kind of relevance. I wanted it to be memorable for us both. This year, it fell on a Monday, and since both Julia and I had classes the next day, an all-nighter of any kind was not in the cards. I had a dozen roses delivered to her dorm room. I made reservations for dinner at the same restaurant where we'd had our first date. The evening was low-key, full of romance, and most definitely "us". And later that night, when me made love, it was not about "getting laid". It was about what we shared together, and for me, it was about what she wanted.

Suffice it to say, I was becoming more and more disgusted with the person I'd been in the other timeline. I no longer wanted to be anything like him.

Finally, I was "getting it."

February 23, 1983

The public debut of the new Lightning in a Bottle (sans Eileen) had finally occurred the previous Friday night. Everything went wonderfully. After blasting through four sets ranging from ten to twelve songs each, with me singing lead on nearly half of them, I was exhausted. I was still working my way into this. Perhaps the most gratifying development was what transpired after the show. We five band members, plus Julia, Dennis, and Mayra, congregated at Margarita's. The presence of the latter three provided the impetus for further thawing in relations between Dave, Paul, and me. In fact, Dave started ribbing me about being excessively tired after the show.

"I wouldn't expect too much out of him tonight," he chortled, directing the remark to Julia. "He needs to work on his endurance."

"No, he doesn't," Julia fired back without hesitation, winking at me as she did so. Everyone started hooting and whistling.

Now, as I sat alone at my desk, my mind wandered back to that evening. I'd finished my studying for tonight. And as I'd been doing with increasing frequency these days, I pulled out a pad of paper and began to write. In the other life, I'd always enjoyed writing, but it was one of those things I never had time for. However, in this timeline, I realized I'd tapped into a hidden passion. Mostly, I'd jot down things about my day-to-day life. Tonight, I wrote about our gig last Friday, describing how it felt to be up in front of an audience again, and how things were improving with my old friends.

I started to consider other possibilities. What if I stepped into a whole new world while writing? What if I created my own fictional plot? The idea fascinated me. The other passionate interest I had – one I'd brought with me from the other timeline – was history. Suppose I combined interests, and built a story based in the past?

With my schoolwork, the band, and my girlfriend, I simply didn't have time to pursue that endeavor at this point in my life. But the thoughts that passed through my mind that evening were similar to the ones I'd had during that drive to the beach about a month after I'd been sent back in time. Dave's old girlfriend, the insufferably obnoxious Gina, had suggested in an offhand manner that we start a band. I'd worked my way through several different stages of life in the interim, with unimaginable highs and lows. And here I was, after all that, finally striving to bring that dream to fruition.

I'd just had another light bulb go off in my head. I didn't have the means to act on it right away. But once again, a seed had been planted.

March 1, 1983

I was in my room, alone, with the door closed, and my nose buried in an intermediate accounting textbook. I was startled by a sudden knock on the door. I sprang to my feet and opened it. However, there was no cause for alarm; it was only Barry. He had a proposal for me.

"Interested in making a wager on the NCAA basketball tournament? I have some, um, connections, and I can place the bet for you."

Yes, it was March Madness time. And I once again experienced a strong sense of deja vu. You see, in the other life, the exact same thing had occurred. Even though I hadn't known Barry as well in that life as I did in this one, he'd dropped by my room and made the same offer. This wasn't a fill-out-the-bracket pool; I'd simply predicted the winner of the tournament. I recalled giving him ten bucks to bet on the University of Houston, who'd been a strong favorite that year. And Houston had in fact made it to the tournament final, where they'd been upset by North Carolina State, a huge underdog...

Wait a minute. If I bet on NC State this time, I'd have a huge windfall on my hands!

And thus did I come face to face with an ethical dilemma, perhaps the most significant one faced by a time traveler.

Should I use my pre-knowledge for financial gain?

As materialistic as I'd been in the other life, I never aspired to be the richest man on the planet. I was comfortable with what I had, and there was no denying that I'd attained that kind of lifestyle through hard work. In this life, I'd already reached the conclusion that I wanted something different in many respects. But when it came to material possessions and standard of living, I felt content to aim for what I'd achieved last time, and not much more. I believed that would be easy to accomplish. I just didn't have the inclination to use my pre-knowledge to make a killing on investments or the stock market, becoming insanely wealthy in the process. Being rich isn't all it's cracked up to be. Plus, every dollar that I obtained that way would be one that had gone to someone else in the other life. At least on a larger scale, this seemed inherently unfair to me.

But on a smaller scale? Would anyone suffer greatly if I made a single modest-sized bet on a sporting event, when I already knew the winner? I didn't think so. Even if I did it a few times, the balance of the universe would not be forever altered. Thing is, I knew I couldn't do this very often. If I suddenly started correctly picking winners left and right, those around me would quickly get suspicious. That fact, in and of itself, served as a check against abusing this gift.

I quickly came to a decision. This time, I'd go for it.

"I'm in," I told Barry. "Let me make a quick run to the bank."

"The bank?" he replied in astonishment. "What kind of a bet are you making here?"

I just grinned mysteriously, and off I went.

About an hour later, I knocked on Barry's door. I handed him a hundred dollar bill.

"Put this on NC State to win the tournament," I told him.

"A hundred bucks? On NC State?" he exclaimed. "Are you fucking nuts?"

"Just a hunch," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "It's no fun picking favorites."

I couldn't wait to see his reaction at the end of the tournament, a few weeks from now.

March 25, 1983

"Finally, I'm eighteen," Eileen said with a happy smile, as we all gathered our things together after another highly successful show. We'd played at a Friday night dorm party, and Eileen had once again joined us for the weekend. Mom and Dad had sprung her free for a couple of days as a birthday present.

"How does it feel?" I grinned at her.

"I'm just glad that I don't have to skip out on gigs because I'm not old enough. No more of that. And in a couple of months, I'll be with you guys full time."