Chapter 2:

  Meeting of the Minds

  I'm twenty-two, a tragic absolute. I wrote that once, lamenting my old age. I wrote a lot back then. Or, I guess, I write a lot now in what my present has become.

  This is different, different than when I was Jesse. I'm alone in this body, and I feel like it really is mine. I slip into it easily, into the mindset, into the memory. I'm… dreaming a dream of me, rather than stuck in a foreign he.

  I have to remind myself, remember: I have a life apart from now, one when I'm 38. I married Katie, we have a kid – we have a life together.

  I light another cigarette. I missed smoking these things. My mind drifts back to writing, to the book I've been working on.

  The antagonist is super-powered, cool as shit, and I imagine myself as him, flying beside the car.

  The amulet in my arm glows brightly, lighting the car a yellow-gold glow.

  There he actually is. Clement, outside my window.

  I almost crash the car. I’m in the grass, dirt flying – swerving.

  I skid to a stop. He's gone.

  But he was there – he was! He really was. He almost sliced me in two.

  #

  It's like trying to remember a dream. The memories from future me in my current past. Katie, Katie, Katie, I chant. Violet, Violet, Violet.

  I have the empty pizza bag. I'm swaying it on my way in.

  You go through the back door at pizza places. When you deliver there, you do. Past smokers, phone talkers, dish washers, the back office.

  Who’s in charge tonight? Joe. Where's Katie? Not here.

  I return the bag and check-in at the screen. Slow night, no orders, and I'm five in the queue.

  Grab a rag, wipe the counter.

  Take a piss, hum a tune.

  What was I supposed to be thinking?

  Katie, Katie, Katie, Katie….

  What does that mean again? Oh yeah – that lady.

  That lady… MY WIFE!

  I gotta write it down.

  Phone, notes – I am.

  I have a wife. I have a baby. Their names are Katie and Violet. I’m not insane. Please, for the love of God, remember.

  The schedule. When's she work?

  Not today. Not tomorrow. Not… the next day. Not at all.

  Wtf. Where's… Katie?

  To Joe, who’s intensely focused on the food on the conveyor: “Where’s Katie?”

  “Who?”

  To Pete, in the back office: “Katie?”

  “What?”

  Everyone I ask knows no one by that name. Or they do but not from here – not her, but someone else.

  My heart rate. My… sweating. My difficulty breathing.

  My phone. I'm trembling. Scrolling. No Katie, not in the contacts.

  No Katie on my friends list.

  No Katie. No f#$@ing Katie.

  I clock out. My heart’s in my stomach.

  I'm driving. Fast.

  The amulet. It's glowing.

  Can anybody see it?

  The Menu, as I call it, calls it the Amulet of Distortion.

  I'm smoking and trembling and hurrying, to Katie’s house, or her dad's.

  I'm there. Jesus. It's all there. The Tundra. The boat. The back porch, the welcome sign at the door.

  I’ll just… inquire. Nothing weird about that.

  A knock at the door. 1, 1, 1. The numbers thing again. What the f#$@ is that?

  The Menu. It's in the way. As Katie’s dad answers the door, looking ever as he always has, I peer through my name, my level, my stats at him at the door.

  “Who?” he says.

  “Katie. Your daughter. Katie.”

  “I don’t have a daughter by that name. You have the wrong house.”

  “You're kidding.”

  He just stares at me, shakes his head, looking at me like I’m stupid, weird, insane.

  So, I leave.

  How can someone so specific be someone he is not? That makes no sense.

  Same ponytail. Same mustache. Same face, body, voice, mannerisms.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  One key difference. No daughter. Not Katie.

  This is f#$@ed. It is. Majorly.

  An understatement. I'm shaking. I'm… panicked. Oh my God, I'm having a panic attack.

  #

  There's no way to adjust to such an extraordinary circumstance. I'm me again, but not; I'm different, and in a different world. My parents never divorced. I live at home with them. I'm in my childhood bedroom. It hasn't changed very much. My dead dogs are alive out back.

  The love of my life doesn't exist.

  I have to throw up. I'll do it outside. The dogs are there. I've missed them.

  I have to smoke. I do.

  I feel like shit. My HP is 53. My strength is only 7. My intelligence is 46. I'm… weaker, in every way, at 22 than 38. And I'm… trying to… figure out how to… fix this problem….

  #

  In my bed. My body buzzes while I lie here. Feels good.

  I cried. Bawled my eyes out. The kind that leaves your throat hurting, face wet, nose drowning.

  Now I'm just… buzzing.

  The buzzing becomes a vibration. An extreme vibration, sleep paralysis style.

  I used to do this thing, when I was trying to fall asleep. I’d imagine I was Clement, my fictitious antagonistic character, climbing an endless tree. I always imagined I was him. He was my favorite character, maybe ever. I wrote him as a sort of perfected Sephiroth knock-off: everything I imagined Sephiroth would be before I knew he wasn't when he killed Aeris (spoiler).

  It was easy to fall into that rhythm. To drift off being him. I’d… sneak around the yard, wander into my neighbors’ house, for no reason – none at all.

  Was just a mental exercise. Trying to imagine what I’d find inside. Would it be as clean and organized as I thought they kept it? Judging by their lawn. Or would I find a mess, empty pizza boxes, dishes in the sink?

  Just an exercise. Like counting sheep. As Clement because he can do anything. He can silence the air around him, even go invisible.

  I did just that. I was outside, in their yard. Crickets chirped. Cicadas screamed. The moon shone white through the trees.

  I was creeping. I was quiet. I was alone. I could hear speaking. They were on their porch. They had no idea I was there.

  I was there. Truly. Absolutely. Really.

  I was there.

  I know this because, smoking, out back, I can hear them. They’re still talking about Lisa, whoever that is.

  How strange.

  #

  I guess I’ll go to work. I work from lunch till close.

  I hate this job again. I hated it but loved Katie.

  Katie. It’s hard to put into words what she means to me. She’s like my other half without the cliché. She’s a better extension of me. She would do anything for anyone, as long as they don’t suck. She’s smart, funny, beautiful, kind, soft, strong and….

  My god. I gotta wipe my eyes. I never cry. This is stupid. Some long dream. A very long one.

  It goes on and on and on and on.

  #

  I’m not a bad looking kid. I’m actually technically hot. But I don’t care about that, or Courtney, or whoever else at work that wants to hang out.

  I just want….

  A dead horse. Is that what my mission, my goal – finding my wife again – is? Is it over? Is it already over. Not a question. Is it?

  I don’t know.

  I wish this shift was.

  Almost done with break.

  Go inside, do the dishes – ask if I can leave early ‘cause we’re slow.

  #

  Jesse Lucas Johnson.

  I’m peeping his menu. I can see it in my Menu.

  Previous Avatar:

  What does that even mean?

  I was wearing him. When I wore him, my “previous” was me.

  “I don’t understand,” I say aloud.

  “It’s simple,” A voice says back – feminine, robotic. “You can see your previous avatar in the main menu. Simply think of the avatar, and its menu will pop up.”

  So unnecessarily bizarre.

  “What else can I see?”

  “You can see it in your menu. Simply think of the avatar, and its menu will pop up.”

  “Cool. Nice. Thanks.”

  #

  It would be nice to take a shower. I do that. It’s nice.

  Outside, smoking, I think aloud, “Maybe I should quit?”

  I take a seat on the stoop out back. Samantha, my old Golden, comes up for some pets. Smokie is there, the love-child of Samantha and Elvis – RIP.

  “Such good girls,” I say, smiling.

  I look up at the moon. Its craters are visible, even from here, through the trees.

  What an odd thing? A rock, floating, in the sky. A perfectly round one. A dead one whereas ours is alive.

  Ours?

  Mine?

  I don’t know. I am me, but we are we.

  Ding, ding, ding.

  Feels like I’m on to something.

  I used to write all the time – whole novels – as 22 year-old me. I don’t do that anymore.

  I just work. Work and family.

  Maybe this is just a mental vacation. Maybe I just… finally snapped.

  I’m in a mental facility. Is that what they’re really called? A facility?

  I guess. I feel anxious all the sudden. My heart rate rising. My breathing quickening.

  Maybe it’s… the cigarettes….

  I flick it. Was halfway gone.

  Almost stand but can’t bear to without lighting another.

  I should really quit these things.

  #

  In bed. The buzzing again. Not Clement this time. Maybe the other guy… what was his name?

  Windston. What a dumb name. I thought I was being clever. Name him after the town.

  It was… Zehpyr.

  Whatever. I’m him. He’s OP but not, like, a god.

  He’s more like… a Final Fantasy character. He’d probably be, like, level 35 in those terms.

  My body shakes. Especially there at the amulet.

  I’m him, in the back yard again, and sneaking. I’m milling about the back yard. My dad is there, on the side yard. That’s where he smokes.

  He’s just standing there, having a “mokey-moke” as he calls it.

  Pet name for a bad habit, perhaps the very one that will be your demise.

  Was he still alive when I was 38?

  I think… yes, he was.

  He’s fine. No disease. No… COPD.

  Just fine.

  That’s good. That’s great. I bought him an old truck and we restored it – an old Dodge. Good effing times.

  Man, I just wanna be me again. I keep thinking I’ll just stick it out, be the me I am right now until I’m that me again. But no Katie. So no go.

  F#$@. I really hate this. I hate this… situation.

  I’m still standing there, just staring, in the back yard.

  I can jump really high. If I’m Windston, I can.

  I do. I jump really effing high, too high – over the oak and….

  Oh God – in the Welcomes’s roof!

  I’m… spitting insulation… from my mouth and….

  That’s a gun shot.

  That hurt, took 150 HP!

  I check my stats. Oh – I’m well into the thousands. Well, not well.

  I have:

  3850 HP left.

  I’m a:

  Level 35 Gorralian/Human Hybrid

  HP: 4000

  Intelligence: 33

  Strength : 128

  Dexterity: 99

  Luck: 11

  Stamina: 155

  This guy is OP.

  But now my HP is 3600. That’s… a double-barrel shotgun – no wonder!

  I run away. I run by leaping through the window.

  I’m incredibly fast – too fast.

  I’m already out of the neighborhood and down the road.

  Cut a right onto the dirt road. Used to ride my bike down here, and.

  Sirens. Sirens from…

  I’m back in bed, as me. As… twenty-two year old me. I’m back in bed and there’s sirens, and I check it out.

  Cops, at the Welcomes’s house.

  We’re not friends, but I head that way.

  I’m at the edge of the road. My dad’s there, with a couple of neighbors.

  “Something fell through his goddamn roof,” Larry says. “I saw it. I was on the front porch.”

  “What was it?” my dad asks.

  “I don’t know. But he shot at whatever it was. Three shots.”

  “I ain’t never seen nothing like it,” Robert says.

  “Huh,” my dad says as a chuff, not a question. “Wonder what it was?”

  I know. At least, as long as my mind isn’t playing some trick on me.

  I feel… guilty. A cop is headed this way.

  It’s at that moment that I notice something. I’m still Windston. I’m still… him – over there, down the way.

  I’m just standing there, still, like a statue. Someone’s headlights jarred me back.

  Sirens here, headlights there.

  Split existence.

  “Hello?” a cop asks me.

  “Ryan,” my dad says. They’re all staring at me.

  But it’s strange. As I try to move there, I move here. I’m… running the same way, until I slam into the mailbox.

  But as Windston, I’m running straight down the way.

  I’m only Windston again.

  For a moment – and I leap a back yard, into the neighborhood behind Publix. I’ll just… liesurely stroll now.

  As Ryan, I’m waking up.

  No, don’t call an ambulance.

  I’m… concussed, but fine.

  I’m just gonna run away.

  I do, as Ryan.

  If I… try hard… I can… control both – but it’s hard.

  So much… focus….

  But I manage, I guess, though waywardly as either here and there.

  I’m stumbling off into the road – almost hit, and as Ryan.

  The… cop is chasing me.

  As Windston, I’m running north. I want to coincide.

  Windston is faster. I remember that. I run super fast.

  I’m already there. I can see myself from both selves. This is so effing weird.

  I can see myself as both selves, and my amulet goes crazy. It’s blinking. Rapidly. Wildly. It’s so bright.

  We collide.

  I’m just Ryan. I’m no longer concussed. And the words “Level Up” pop up.

  “Achievement Unlocked. Meeting of the Minds.”