Chapter 3

April 14, 1984

Ice Cream tasted different now. I'm not sure what it was; it seemed colder and the vanilla just seemed to pop more. Maybe it was something different in the mixture at Tastee Freeze or maybe it was just my new taste buds. As Alex, I'd never really cared for licking a cone – it was just too messy and kind of disgusting – but as Chance or Buck, I had to admit it was a whole lot of fun. It was even a kind of game; keep the cone from dripping.

I'd taken Molly's words from last Saturday to heart. I spent the next day still sitting in my room, but I was no longer thinking about whether Chance was coming back or fitting in or trying to pretend to be Chance. I made the decision that I was Chance and whatever happens later, if he came back, if he or I died, I was going to live this life until that happened. I couldn't be the same Chance that tried to kill himself, I could only be the Alex/Chance that I currently was. Yes, I had an older mind in a younger body but I was learning that the body had more impact on the mind than I would have thought; as did the dream memories that were still flooding through me at night.

Unfortunately, I couldn't just 'drop into' Chance's life. It would be too easy to make a mistake or let something slip. I had to have some kind of general plan on how to do this, how to merge who I had been with who I was trying to be. The amnesia gave me a little lee-way but I wanted to make sure I didn't lean on that too hard. It was probably better to save it until I had no other way out.

Last Monday was the day of change. My psychiatrist recommended that I take two weeks off at home to 're-acclimate' (okay, so she didn't use that big word on an 11-year old boy – she said I needed to 'get used to' being back at home – but I translate). She didn't want to push me into all of the changes and drama at school so I wasn't due to go back until this coming Monday, two days from now. That was good for me; it let me put my plan into effect without having to worry about school, as well.

The plan centered on a number of different things. The first was that I accept who I was for as long as I was. No more Alex vs. Chance; I was both. Second, I wanted to do things differently this time around. Alex had been fat due to genes and inactivity; I had never exercised at all in my old life. Chance, however, was a clean slate and I wanted to get the slate started right. It shouldn't be too hard to do; I lived on a cattle ranch, after all, and there was always strenuous work to be done. Third, I wanted to actually LIVE my life. Alex had been far too passive, allowing life to push him around. This time, I was going to take the bull by the horns and go where I wanted. Finally, I wanted to remain grounded. There were opportunities here but I wouldn't let them corrupt me. I'd remain the same 'nice guy' that I'd been before ... in both Alex's and Chance's life. The axiom states that charity begins at home; I was going to try to take care of the people around me.

That started with the ranch. With my parent's finances in such bad shape, Dad was taking on way too much of the farm's work because he couldn't hire hands to help him. If he kept this up, he was going to work himself into an early grave and I couldn't allow that to happen. I'd have to help in whatever way I could; in whatever way he'd let me. From my dream/memories I knew that dad was rather proud, always paying his way. Well, it was time I started paying my way, too. I just hoped he'd understand.

Like most ranchers, Dad got up at 4:30am every day and was out in the field by 5am. On a ranch, just like a farm, there was always something to do. On Monday, I had followed behind him. My motives weren't entirely altruistic; it was killing two birds with one stone. Dad couldn't afford enough help for the ranch and I needed to feel useful and start taking care of my body. I knew that farm and ranch work was hard; I'd use that to my advantage.

"Whatcha doin' up so early, Buck?" he'd asked in surprise when I entered the barn behind him.

"I want to help, dad," I replied, standing up straight in front of him; he needed to get used to the new me as quickly as possible. There were a few things I was going to bring forward from Alex's life; standing up straight and always looking someone in the eye were two of them. As Alex, it was the only thing I could do to earn someone's respect; as Chance, I could only bet it would function the same. I watched his eyebrows arch as I continued. "And I figure you can use me."

"Oh, really?" he'd chuckled and I could tell he was wondering where this was going.

"Look, this all started because we're a bit behind in the bills," I started, I saw that he was going to say something, saw the pain in his eyes, so I just rushed on through. "That's all behind us, that whole thing that we went through ... but it doesn't change the fact that we're behind. We're probably more behind because of my hospital stay. I helped make this mess, I need to help clean it up. I know I'm only 11 and I'm not real strong or anything like you, but I figure that I can do some of the little things and move on to the big things as time goes by and I get stronger. Every little bit helps, though, right?"

He looked at me for a bit, his face more than a bit shocked. After a few seconds, he started smiling though. "So, you're gonna help your old dad, huh?" He shook his head. "Alright, then. Let's get started. I'll show you some stuff today and we'll let you do it this week and see how it goes."

As I said before, farming is hard work. Ranching is even harder. We had hay that needed to be planted, animals to be fed including pigs, cows, steers and horses. The fences had to be checked once a week and the cattle moved ... the list went on and on. Our herd wasn't big. I found out that besides dad's accident, our cattle had also gotten sick and started dying, thinning out our herd quite a bit. It was all a confluence that had led to our money troubles.

Dad had me help from 5 in the morning until 6:30 which is when I'd have to start getting ready for school the next week. From 6:30am until 4pm, I had to do homework and studying ... which, oddly enough, involved playing games with mom or helping her with housework after my homework and studying were finished. From 4:30pm until 6:00pm, I went back to helping dad. That was all the help he'd allow, however, saying that on school nights I'd normally be doing homework after supper. So, for those five days I helped Susie with her homework or read ahead in one of my books or straightened out my bedroom or my little workshop in the barn.

Susie and Lena were wary around me for the first few days. I couldn't blame them and knew that the only thing I could do for them was give them time to come to terms with the new me; the change was rather sudden but I wasn't going to wait for life to pass me by. I was going to do all the things in this life that I had wanted or set off to do in my previous life. I wasn't going to settle anymore.

I still sat in my room but not to avoid people anymore. I went there to read or study or just reflect. I left the door open this time so that my family felt okay with approaching me; it was a way for me to get some alone time to gather my thoughts while still giving them access to their loving son.

My room was a decent size and functional. The bed was on the east wall, so I would be facing the setting sun when I lay down. I had a desk in the corner, part of which was under that window and another window facing north. Behind my bed was my closet on the north side and a bathroom I shared with Susie on the other. It was painted in white and had a bunch of sports posters and game posters on the walls, but I'd taken them down. It looked cleaner this way and more organized.

Chance hadn't been a slob, per se, but he had been a normal 11-year old with clothes on the floor of his room and closet, his desk was disorganized with papers strewn everywhere and his desk drawers were basically full of junk. As Alex, I'd never been able to live that way and I wasn't going to start now. I straightened everything out, putting things away neatly and designating a place for everything. I had been a bit of an anal neat-freak as Alex but I didn't regard that as a bad thing; it would serve me well to pull that into Chance's life. It made life easier and saved time by knowing exactly where everything was and where it was supposed to go.

By Friday, the tension around the house had lessened considerably. Mom and Dad were less afraid that I was going to commit suicide, Lena and Susie were less afraid that I was going to break and I was less afraid of doing something wrong; at this point, I couldn't do anything wrong, really, other than explain Alex to them and that was never going to happen. I could only be me, the imperfect merging of Alex and Chance; it was going to be a change for them but they were going to have to come to terms with me.

Saturday had rolled around and Molly had stopped by; she'd said it was just to say hello to my mom and dad but I figured she was checking up on me. My theory proved right when she asked me out for ice cream, once again excluding Lena and Susie. I joked with her that if she kept excluding the girls people were going to talk but she'd just laughed at me. "You'll always be my boyfriend, Buck."

Conversation on the way to the Tastee Freeze was light and inconsequential. We asked each other about school; I told her I was looking forward to getting back (I lied) and she told me how hard her introduction to childhood psychology class was. I ordered Chance's customary cone and she predictably got the sundae as we made our way to a booth. We were quiet for a bit as we enjoyed our ice cream but eventually I finished my cone and looked at her, trying to figure out exactly how I was going to explain this. I'd made both of these decisions while I was feeding the pigs on Thursday but I hadn't figured out exactly how to approach them until just now.

From my dreams I knew that Chance and Molly had always had a very special relationship. Chance was grateful for Molly treating him like a grown up and Molly enjoyed talking with Chance and watching him grow up. Molly had become Chance's sounding board, the person he turned to for advice and to ask questions he just didn't feel comfortable talking to his parents about (like why his mom wouldn't let him get a frog or why his dad wouldn't let him get a mini-bike when Jimmy Crews had one). He could talk to his sisters, of course, but they were his sisters. Molly was his baby-sitter and friend; there was a huge difference.

I knew that I was going to be trading heavily on that relationship and I winced just a bit. I only hoped that I didn't strain the friendship between these two. I needed as many friends as I could get right now and if I could win Molly over I'd have a good asset in my corner.

"What?" Molly laughed as I looked at her seriously. I hadn't meant to stare but I really wasn't certain how to begin. "Do I have ice cream dripping down my chin again?"

I chuckled a bit, shaking my head.

"I've given a lot of thought to what we talked about last Saturday," I said, my face turning serious but still sporting a slight grin. The biggest worry I had was my language; I'd lived 69 years in my old life and had no clue how to sound like an 11-year old. It was one of my greatest fears, that my advanced speaking skills would trip me up. Unfortunately, there wasn't much I could do. "I'm going to ask my mom and dad to start calling me Chance again. Buck ... Buck was the little boy in the bathtub. He's gone. I think with a new name, it might help them see that."

"Wow," Molly said, looking at me intently. "That's ... surprisingly mature of you. I wouldn't have expected it, really. I figured we'd have to discuss it for a few more weeks before you came around. I guess you really have changed a little, haven't you? I suppose maybe that's a good thing."

"Maybe," I said, a little unsure. "I know I thought about it a lot. I had to think about whether it was worth it to be scared all the time. The more I thought about it, the more I figured you were right. I've got to be who I am and hope that everyone will accept me. If I live in fear, I won't live at all; I'll just be sitting in my room all the time waiting for something to happen. I think I need mom and dad to know that; to know that I'm ready to ... to get past all of this. Not the same as I was before but ... getting past it anyway. I need Lena and Susie to figure it out, too; they're still afraid of me, at least a little. Everyone's starting to open up but it's hard to be yourself when people are walking on egg shells around you waiting for you to break or something."

"I know what you mean," Molly chuckled. "You just have to realize that they've changed just like you have. They went through something that no parent or sibling ever wants to go through; they came close to losing their son and their brother. It's not going to be easy for them to get over that because in the back of their mind, for the next little while, they're going to keep wondering if something they say or something they do might make you give up again."

"I won't give up," I said firmly; I knew what she was saying, though. "I won't ever let that happen again."

I felt I could pretty much guarantee that; as Alex, I'd never had the courage to take my own life even though I'd thought of it quite a bit. Living without my family was hard. Maybe there was no real love between my wife and me but we'd still spent 32 years together; there was a companionship there. Then there was my dead son and my daughter who would never see the outside of a prison ... and still I'd not taken my life. I was pretty sure I wasn't going to do it in this one, no matter how bleak things got.

Besides, Chance hadn't been giving up; he'd been trying to help his family. I had more life experience than Chance; I wouldn't fall into the same trap he did.

"Just give them time," Molly instructed. "They'll come around."

I nodded. "I know and I can wait while I work to earn their trust. I just wanted you to know that I listened to you last week and I think I got it. Plus, I wanted to thank you ... for everything. It was hard being so scared I was ... well, frozen-like. I'm not sure I'd have unfroze without your help." I was purposefully dumbing my speech a bit, trying to sound more like an 11-year old.

"Oh, I don't know," Molly said with a smile. "I think eventually you'd have found your way out. I mean, it's hard to separate yourself from everything for too long. I just didn't want you to hurt people so badly before you made it through."

"Well, you helped and I appreciate it," I said. I paused for a moment, steeling my resolve. This was the part I had been dreading; this was the part where I was going to ask Molly to take a huge leap of faith. "I was wondering if you'd help me again. I need ... well ... it's a really big favor."

"Whatcha need?" Molly said immediately, her face blank.

"Um ... it's a big favor," I repeated. I couldn't figure out how to explain what I wanted her to do or why. "You're not going to want to do it but ... I really need you to. It's really important."

"You know I'd do anything for you if I can," she replied. "What is it?"

I waffled for a moment, wondering if there was another way to do this. I could feel a big pressure filling me as my uncertainty grew; a bloated feeling welling inside of me. It was almost like there was a balloon inside of me, filling and filling until my insides were full. I didn't want to do this anymore ... but I couldn't think of another way.

Besides, I'd committed myself so now I was going to have to see it through. With another sigh that did nothing for that insane pressure inside of me, I pulled the envelope out of my pocket, unfolded it, then placed it on the table and pushed it over to her. "I need you to ... to place a bet for me," I said carefully. I saw her face start to move towards disappointment so I talked as quickly as possible, going through the speech I'd prepared yesterday evening. It's funny; as good as my memory was, the nervousness I was feeling blanked the whole speech I'd prepared from my mind. I'd have to wing it. "Before you say no, I've given this a lot of thought. When ... uh ... when I woke up from ... from the coma. I ... I started seeing things. Dreams ... maybe memories. But ... they were ... well ... from later. From ... kinda from ... the future. I ... I wasn't sure what to do with them or if they were real ... so I ... well, I didn't say anything. Now though..." I shook my head. This wasn't easy. Managing my lies wasn't easy. This was important, though. It was a quick way to make money so I could ease some of the burden from mom and dad. I'd been ... well ... snooping; listening to their phone conversations and taking a quick peek at their checkbook and mail. I didn't like what I saw. "Please, Molly. I know this is weird; I know that I'm too young to be gambling. I need this, though. Please."

She looked at me, her brows furrowed. For a moment, I just sat there and let her stare. Finally, she sat back a bit and chewed on her lower lip, her face getting speculative. "I don't think this is a good idea, Bu ... Chance," she said with a sigh. "Betting isn't the answer..."

I was frustrated, just a bit. I wasn't sure how I could convince her. I had all this knowledge in my head, all this future information about winning sports teams and horse races and even stocks and bonds, but I was too young to use it. I could wait a few years, of course, until I was old enough but I needed it now ... my new family needed it now. I placed my hand on hers to stop her from saying no outright and...

Something happened. I'm not sure what. The pressure inside of me just exploded ... but it was a good explosion, sort of. A release. I felt a shock, kind of like static electricity, as my hand made contact with Molly's and all of the pressure inside of me just flowed out of me through my hand. For a moment, it was almost like we were joined somehow; like we were communing. Then it was gone and Molly continued like she hadn't felt anything at all.

"But I can see how important it is to you, so of course I'll do it for you," Molly said, her words changing in mid-sentence. "What do you want me to bet?"

What the hell had just happened here? Molly had been turning me down, about to lecture me about the evils of gambling, I was sure. From one moment to the next, she'd changed. Completely. It was as if, in that touch, I'd over-whelmed her arguments and brought her around to my point of view. With a single touch.

What the hell had just happened?

I looked at her, trying to see any change. I guess I must have been staring because her eyebrows raised and a look of concern passed over her face.

"Earth to Chance, hello??" she called, tilting her head. The look of concern deepened.

I couldn't get over the feeling that I had somehow changed her mind with my touch ... but that was crazy. No one could do that. No one could override someone else's decision like that. Okay, maybe with an argument I could bring someone over to my point of view ... but with a touch?

Then I remember who I was and the body I had inherited and I wasn't so sure anymore. Wasn't this whole thing more than a bit crazy?

Either way, I couldn't just sit here and stare at Molly forever. However her mind had been changed, she was now willing to place the bet for me and that was the most important thing right now. Later, under the cover of night, I could lie in my bed and try to figure out what had just happened.

"Thanks, Molly," I replied finally, shaking my head slightly like I was waking out of a daydream – which, honestly, I kind of was. I drew a deep breath and then let it out, pulling the folded sheet of paper from the envelope and spreading it out in front of her. "The envelope has the money for the bet but I've put all of the instructions on here. The horse names, how to bet ... basically, I want you to bet the Kentucky Derby Superfecta or Pick 4 for me; they could be calling it either one, I'm not sure. They're just a way to place a bet where you have to pick the top 4 horses in the Kentucky Derby in order. The horses I want you to play are listed from first place to fourth place: Swale, Coax Me Chad, At The Threshold and Fali Time. If we win, I'll give you 10% for betting for me; that should help you cover taxes and still leave you a little to spend."

She opened the envelope and her eyes got large. "There's... 140 dollars here, Chance. That's a lot of money!"

"I know," I replied. "I wish it were more but it'll have to do for now." I pulled Molly closer and gave her a big hug still trying to shake that strange feeling I'd had when I touched her hand. "You have to do this for me, Molly. Please. Don't try to teach me a lesson here; don't tell me you bet it but hold onto it instead. If I lose the money, it's gone. No big deal. If we win, though ... it could really help mom and dad."

"I will, Chance," Molly reassured me. "I'll place the bet on my way back to school tomorrow. I'll head down to the casino outside of Cheming before heading up to Havre."

"Thank you," I said, a little of my relief coming through, and I gave Molly another hug. Still no electric shocks or anything else out of the ordinary; I paused for a moment wondering what had happened before. Then, shaking it off until later, I brought up the last favor I had for my cousin. "Molly, you can't say anything about this to my parents, okay? I don't want them to know about this."

Whatever had happened to make her more amenable to my requests must have still been in effect because she never even questioned it.

"Of course, Chance," she replied.

April 16, 1984

It's a wonder all of the kids from the mid 80's didn't need back surgery. I was headed to David L. Pecos Elementary on a school bus that had to be at least a decade old with shocks that had to be even older. The school bus bounced and jostled us all around even when the pavement was smooth; it was enough to make my teeth start to buzz. By the time we got to school, I was ready for a hot bath and a massage, not necessarily in that order.

The bus wasn't exactly full, but no one sat next to me; not even Lena, who was in 8^th grade and rode the bus with me. Not that I really expected it; as far as Chance's memories could recall, Lena had never sat with me on the bus. We were friendly and close at home but didn't interact much – read ever – at school.

No one talked to me, either. If I looked at someone, they quickly looked away. There was quite a bit of whispering going on, though, and judging from the glances, I was pretty sure I was the primary topic of conversation. I sighed as I realized that word about my suicide attempt had got out. This was not likely to be a pleasant day.

I should have figured on it, I guess. It wasn't every day that someone you know tries to commit suicide. I knew they were just being kids, but it was hard. As Alex I had been short and bullied most of my life but I'd still managed to eke out a few close friends in school. Some of them had remained friends, though not as close, even until Edith's funeral. After that, I actively tried to dissociate myself from everything in the world but some of them had contacted me after the funeral, trying to get me to go out and interact with the world. I'd ignored them and eventually they'd given up. I regretted that now but what was I going to do? All of this wouldn't happen until sometime in the future.

I sighed a bit and turned to stare out the window, trying to remind myself that they were just kids and this would pass. I was getting really good at staring but not so much at ignoring things around me. I wasn't just Alex anymore and the Chance part of me took these slights hard.

It continued even in the school. As I walked down the hall, most people avoided me. It was as if my suicide attempt was a communicable disease and no one wanted to catch it. Wherever I moved, I had an empty ring of at least 3 feet all around me. It was eerie and trying but I kind of understood it.

Understanding didn't necessarily make me happy. Part of me wanted to just curl up and cry but I knew that wasn't a good idea and so I maintained my composure. Barely.

English was my first class and my teacher was Mrs. Emery. She was an older, graying brunette with a young looking face that had only hints of wrinkles around the eyes and mouth. She had fantastic blue eyes that twinkled when she smiled, which seemed to be often. She was taller than me but I was used to it from my days as Alex; strangely enough, however, I was actually rather tall compared to other 6^th graders, perhaps even one of the tallest in my class. I was not used to that.

I had entered quietly but it wasn't quiet enough. As soon as I entered the room, everyone just stopped and stared at me, mouths open and gaping. I did my best to ignore it and was moving to my seat when Mrs. Emery called me to her desk.

"Yes, ma'am?" I asked as I stood by her desk, my books under one arm.

"It's good to have you back, Mr. Pestle," Mrs. Emery smiled. There was a note of concern on her face, though, and she was searching me in that way that older women have when they're looking for any sign the child in front of them might freak out. She seemed genuinely worried and it thawed the cold indifference I was trying to affect – but only slightly. "Thank you for finishing your homework and returning it so promptly." Mom had brought my homework back on Friday, since I was finished with it. She thought it was a good idea to get it back in early in case the teachers wanted or needed to correct it. "However, we've had a test and 2 quizzes while you were gone. Unfortunately, I can't allow you to make up the quizzes so I'll just let your next quiz count as three grades, okay dear?"

"Yes, ma'am," I said clearly. I wanted to mumble, wanted to look down and away but I didn't. One of the promises I'd made to myself was that I wouldn't cower; I'd meet the challenges of this life head-on for as long as I was here. I would look people in the eye and own up to my own shortcomings.

"Excellent," she replied, her smile warming slightly. She looked down at her desk for a moment, then handed me a small stack of papers in a manila folder. "Here are the homework assignments you turned in on Friday. Now, if you'll take one of the desks and move it outside the classroom, I'll let you take the test you missed, okay?"

The test was rather easy, actually, just a reading comprehension assignment and then dissecting sentences into their component pieces. Luckily, my reading and my homework had covered this really well; it'd been quite some time – almost 60 years - and a lifetime away since I'd needed to do either of these tasks. I finished in about 30 minutes; I spent the next 20 minutes until class was over going over my answers to be sure they were correct. Even with that extra time and the refreshing I'd received through homework I worried about the test results. I wanted to do everything in this life to the best of my ability; I owed it to both Alex and Chance.

As I made my way through the halls to American History, the 3 foot diameter clearing around me continued to be in effect. People watched me but looked away if I glanced in their direction. The whispers continued and I imagined they continued even out of my sight. This was going to get old rather quickly but I had high hopes of the short attention span of middle school children. In a day or a week something new would happen and I'd be old news. Until then, I'd just have to suffer through it.

American History was taught by Ms. Bear. Ironically, she was a young Native American woman and I had to wonder if our history would be slanted in that direction. The next decade or two would see a large bit of revisionist history that pretty much proved 'Indians' weren't the cold, blood thirsty killers movies and television made them out to be. Of course, I realized that there were always two sides of any story so I was also aware they weren't the big teddy bears the revisionist's history was going to describe them as. The answer, as is usually the case with two opposing stories, lay somewhere in the murky middle.

There was no doubt that Ms. Bear was a Native American. She had deeply tanned, almost golden brown skin and straight brown hair that was almost black with slightly slanted, piercing brown eyes. Her face was rounded but somewhat long, with a long, thin, royal nose above thin firm lips. She stood at least 6 inches taller than my 5'1" height with little in the way of cleavage or hips. As a matter of fact, she seemed to be a long, tall woman with nearly nothing in the way of curves. Still, much like Mrs. Emery, her smile was warm and inviting and she, too, returned my homework to me before setting me outside the classroom to take a test.

It was a good thing I'd read the chapters a few times last night; History had been the bane of my existence when I'd been Alex – especially American History. I was able to get some enthusiasm up for Dinosaurs and Egypt and Rome and even the crusades and pirates, but it wasn't much enthusiasm and as soon as we deviated from my little islands of interest I was pretty apathetic about the whole thing.