Faces in the mirror

by Sonky

29 Jan 2017 1962 readers Score 9.4 (63 votes) PDF Mobi ePub Txt


Who am I?

- 06:00 -

I wake up every morning to a different face staring back at me in the mirror. I’ve seen so many faces in that mercury reflection that I have a hard time recalling my own. The one face I was born with.

Today though seems to be a good day. I woke up in a bed. Trust me I’ve woken up in worse places, sometimes with companionship sometimes without. Today I’m in a bed. This bed appears to be in a house, a house with windows. Again good sign, at least it isn’t a submarine. Now that was one hell of a scary day.

The face staring back at me through the mirror this morning is utterly unremarkable and I’m sorry to say that in all likelihood I’ll quickly forget him. Some however I’ll never forget. Not for as long as I live.

I’ve seen young men; old men and even children stare back at me. On few occasions a woman of all things. Women are insane, having been one, once or twice has given me a healthy understanding of that fact. Those are days I sometime wish I could forget, all bar one. The memory of that day I will myself to remember every day.

Now for those of you with good memories and a sympathy for 80’s science fiction shows, may be thinking that my everyday life doesn’t sound too original. Sadly I’m not a scientist; I didn’t step into some ‘quantum leap accelerator’. Honestly who wrote that damn series anyway? There aren’t any do-good missions to complete before I get to my next ‘leap’ and I’m all-alone. I don’t have a lovable cigar-smoking sidekick to assist my comic relief in every episode.

All I do is wake up.

Now, lets get back on track; today I woke up as Adam Roldar. I am a 29 year old black skinned male with impossibly large feet. I feel like a clown walking around in these. From the state of my bedroom I’m apparently single and from the state of my wardrobe will likely remain so.

The window lets me see a light blanket of snow covering the ground outside. Great, winter while yesterday I got to enjoy a nice day in spring. Yesterday had been a particularly good day. A quiet day, I ate a nice meal, had a relaxing bath and slept in silk sheets.

Yesterday had been good. Today seems adequate in comparison. I scan Adam Roldar’s flat and again I’m struck by the ordinariness of this man. I’ve long since stopped wondering why I wake up as the person I do. I can’t recall precisely how many faces I’ve had, how many days it’s been.

Weeks, months or years? Who knows.

I used to try and tally the days. I orchestrated a system of carving a notch on a specific landmark I awoke close to every morning as someone else. Yet I woke up in a different state, province or even country at times, so that appeared to a flawed system. Then I tried to log into a private email account. Which worked for a while until I woke up in a different year or decade before Internet was widely accessible or even invented for that matter. My system flawed yet again.

It was about then that I stopped counting.

I stopped trying to remember all the names of the people I’d been. Stopped trying to memorize all the faces, place and dates. Trying to find some kind of reason for this even if it lacked any rhythm whatsoever.

After a while even the most basic of existential questions fade.

Why am I here?
What’s the point of this?
Who am I?

Who am I? Well, I’m not Adam Roldar; a blindingly boring man that works as one of five IT guy’s at some nondescript company. That’s a fact.

Yet, who am I?

My name, my actual name is James believe it or not. James Lillian Hoekstra and as far as I can remember I have Gerard butler curls which any man with curls can attest to looks positively dashing one day and nightmarish the next. I’m completed with grey eyes and a somewhat stocky build. I look however nothing like Scott Bakula.  

Whether that is a good or bad thing I’ll leave up to you.

I had just about turned thirty when it all began. With my first ‘awakening’ as I like to call it, really wasn’t the scariest of them all. It was the third and fourth awakening that started to freak me out, especially the sixteenth. At that point it began to dawn on me that I wasn’t going to wake up as James Hoekstra tomorrow morning and maybe just maybe I’ll never look at myself in the mirror again.

All right, all right, I can hear your thoughts loud and clear. Why didn’t I track myself down? Did I try and visit myself in whatever time or place I happened to wake up in?

Truth be told, it did cross my mind at a certain point and then it quickly exited again. Cause if someone would have called me up in the middle of the day to tell me they were me in another body. Well, I wouldn’t have believed them whatever they might have said, however convincingly.

You see, I’m actually a bit of a shit to be honest. I’m quite certain I wouldn’t even be able to stand talking to myself, knowing what kind of person I am. So checking up on myself was a course of action I decidedly did not take. Instead I haven’t really done much of anything. Yet today it seems I need to go to work.

I don’t always do these peoples day jobs more often than not I’ll call in a sick day. Sometimes out of sheer laziness and sometimes cause I’d have no clue how to do their jobs. The day I woke up as a construction inspector I stayed home not wanting to ignorantly approve dodgy workmanship. Or the day I happened to be a beautician, nails and hair just aren’t’ my forte.

Once I was a kindergarten teacher, now that day I enjoyed work. For the first time ever I actually enjoyed being around so many children. Interacting with them, it opened my mind. Little humans are amazing creatures. For the first time in my like fatherhood didn’t seem such a horrifying thought.

Adam Rodlar however boring his job cannot seem to afford to take a sick day. I may be a shit of a man and before I started awakening I probably wouldn’t have given a damn. Now however a thin slice of morals have seeped into my general consciousness.

It’s very annoying, you know. Having a conscious to deal with every day when you’d mostly gone through life ignoring it best you could.

Anyway, after some crappy instant coffee Adam had in his cupboard and a nice shower in which I got to examine my body for the day. Very nice indeed, long and thick with great pull. Pitty that I don’t get a chance to play with this body, I have to be at work in 15 minutes.

 -08:00-

Once I’m in the building I head straight to a janitor and ask him where the IT department is. It’s a trick I learned early on don’t ask anything of an actual coworker which may seem very out of character for you but the cleaning staff are always in the know.

Sure enough Charles was kind enough to direct me to the basement level. The basement. Now really, why didn’t I think of that it’s only about the most cliché place to stick the IT department in.

I slide behind my computer; at least I think this is my desk cause it’s the only unoccupied one, and try to log on. Damn passwords are always a bitch.

“Damn” I sign loudly.

“Christ Adam, did you forget the password again!” A skinny yet handsome young guy on my left exclaims irritated. Well, that’s certainly never happened before.

“Here.” He ostentatiously shoves his chair back bends over my keyboard and logs me in without further ado. “Can’t have you sighing all quietly for the next hour while you try to get that brain of yours working woken up. How the hell you ever got this job is beyond me.”

Now when you hear this guy talk it sounds like he really doesn’t like our Adam. Yet the soft natured smile on his face tells me a very different story. It also tells me Adam is by nature a very shy guy cause my colleague here clearly isn’t used to being stared back at by Adam.

“Thanks, I haven’t had my coffee yet this morning.” Apparently Adam also isn’t at all very communicative cause I see several colleagues glance our way clearly intrigued by the interaction.

“Oh, W-wel” the nice guy stutters a little flustered. Really now? Was Adam a mute or something at work? “I was just going to refill my cup do you want one?” I almost feel all the fingers around the room hover above their keyboards as they await my answer while seemingly ignoring our conversation entirely.

“Yeah, I’d love one. Thanks.”

While he’s gone I quickly glance over at his screen where his email is open. Well it seems Jordan here was very flustered cause he just violated basic security measures by leaving his station so unguarded. Luckily I’m in the skin of a nice guy today.

“Thanks Jordan.” I say as I take the cups he’s offering upon his return. A little dazed Jordan sits behind his computer again and I can’t help but think he’s being a little dramatic. I mean no one is that shy are they?

Anyway logged on and caffeined up I start to shift through Adam’s workload. He’s annoyingly efficient this guy. Everything beautifully labeled, worksheets for the week in place. It’s so organized a monkey could do this. Just as well really cause today I am that monkey.

Trust me once I had to bullshit my way through a strategy meeting with some very high up higher-up’s. I can’t remember a thing I said but at the end of the day the person I’d been awakened in got a promotion. The one-day I was a surgeon though I called in sick. I am no Frank Abagnale.

 -12:00-

Lunch at last! By this time I’m in sore need of a break and a cigarette. Too bad I quite smoking about 30 faces ago, trust me when you wake up as and eleven year old you wouldn’t want to smoke either or ever again.

“So Jordan, want to grab some lunch?” I ask nonchalantly while I stretch in my desk chair. Office jobs are the worse for your posture. Yet again I get this incredulous look from Jordan.

“What?” I ask. Don’t tell me Adam doesn’t even eat lunch, Oh lord!

“Well, it’s just you always bring your lunch with you and eat at your desk.”

“Forgot it in my rush to get here this morning. If you don’t want to jo-“

“No!” Came his hasty retort. “No, no I’ll go.”

We’re just about to leave when a guy not much older than Adam comes strutting through the basement files in hand. I hear Jordan groan in defeat and start taking off the jacket he’d just donned.

The Strutter drops some the files on our desks, “Want these done immediately!” He orders and vanishes into a small corner office, only to emerge seconds later with his coat in hand.

I finish donning my jacket and grab my wallet. I ignore the questioning glances I get from not only Jordan but also the rest of the IT personnel.

The Strutter takes notice of me and stops mid strut. “Roldar? What are you doing?”

“Heading out for lunch.” I calmly reply remaining still behind my desk. My tone is neither defiant nor submissive. Neutral and monotone is the key.

“Get those files completed first.” He waves dismissively.

I reach over for the aforementioned file and examine their contents. There is absolutely nothing urgent about these problems. I mean they’re 45 minutes work tops. I debate whether to argue with this guy about employee rights but Adam probably doesn’t even look the man in the eye.

“I didn’t bring any lunch in today so I can’t do them while I eat this time… sir.” I add, probably a very Adam-ish thing to do.

“You know it’s against department policy to eat at your desk Roldar!” The Strutter frowns angrily.

“Ok, I’ll take my lunch break in an hour then.” I grit my teeth, I hate little bullies like this. Some upshot ‘manager’ couldn’t even tie his bloody own tie by the looks at the clip on crap around his neck. Departmental policy my ass! Bureaucratic bullshit if I ever heard it.

“Lunch break is only from noon till one, Roldar not a second later. Sit down and get those files sorted.”

“Er… no.” I shouldn’t have said that. Damn! I can’t get Adam fired; it looks like he’s barely got two cents to rub together as it is. Yet even though I am Adam for a day, James is always underneath. “I fully accept the lunch hour break guidelines, I agree to not eat at my desk. So if you don’t want a hypoglycemic worker sprawled on the floor cause my sugar intake is too low, I really need my lunch break.” I lower my eyes and fidget with the rim of my jacket in a fashion I think wouldn’t be too far of the mark in with Adams.

“I’ll take care of it Mr. Yldish.” Jordan says already reaching for his chair. Dammit that won’t do at all. Not after that little scrap note I found earlier in Adam’s desk draw. Innocent doodles can be a fountain of information.

“Are you taking your lunch break sir?” I ask innocently.

“Of course I …” Yldrish starts but quickly stops. It’s one thing to assume unspoken douchebaggery and another to actually voice it.

With a sigh of royal leniency Mr Yldrish waves us a pardon. “Fine, have your lunch breaks.”

That was surprisingly easy, I expected more of a grandstanding attitude of our Mr Yldrish the Strutter. It was what I would have done in his place once upon a time. This kind of douchebaggery would have been right up my alley. Apparently Mr. Yldrish is only a bit of a poser and will yield the second someone challenges him.

Good to know. I hope these IT guys are paying attention; I won’t be here tomorrow to remember it for them. I glance around the room and am pleased to see every single employee has grabbed their jackets and are heading off to lunch. They all meet my gaze as they pass by and nod.

Jordan is the last as we walk to the elevators together. “I didn’t know you were diabetic.” Says eying me closely a small smile on his lips.

“I’m not really” I smile doing my best to put a sheepish undertone to it. “I just couldn’t think of anything else and I’m very hungry.”

“I should remember that for the future.” He grins relaxing his posture more and more around me. “Adam gets feisty when hungry.”

I almost blurted out laughing. Feisty? Really? Oh lord, if this small act of defiance gets categorized as feisty for Adam I dread to think how he was in bed. Then again dark horses and all that. 

“You should.” I grin, before I catch myself. We walk to a small café around the corner, one Jordan frequents for lunch. As we walk I feel him drift closer to me, as if there is a pull between our bodies. I have to say this is always fun. It’s also been a while since I’ve been in a gay male’s body.

Not that Adam’s place gave me any clue that he was gay. Only the small scrap of paper I found hidden away in his desk draw. For a second there I almost want to mock Adam for his high school girl tendencies but thinking on it, it’s not such an unnatural thing for a very shy guy.

Mr & Mr Jordan Bards. 
Adam Roldar-Bards. 
Jordan Bards-Roldar. 
Mr & Mr Adam Roldar.

A very quiet yearning from a very quiet man.

Adam’s browser history and email content have given me some insight to his hobbies and views. So although I wing most of our conversation during lunch it’s mainly inline with Adam’s personality.

At least I hope it is.

Except of course that the Adam of today is actually talking and responsive for once. A few dozen faces ago or more I can’t remember, I wouldn’t have been so considerate of Adams life. I told you before I am a bit of a shit. Well, actually I more of a douchebag. A genuine one, cause I had only an inkling that I actually was one. In the beginning I wasn’t very considerate of the people I woke up as. Disregarding if they were gay or married or single if the opportunity presented itself. Which wasn’t often yet it did happen once or twice. I can say now that I regret those actions. I was angry at being forced to wake up to a different face every morning and took it out on the people I woke up as.

That ended the day I woke up a homophobe.

Can you believe it? A fully fledged deranged homophobe. You wouldn’t believe the literature I found at his place. The plaques declaring ‘God Hates Fags’ and ‘There is no Rear Entrance to Heaven’ which I admittedly cracked me up a little.

Up to that point I hadn’t meddled much in these peoples lives. Stayed home from their jobs regardless if it was important to them or not. Not minding what I said to whomever however out of character.

Our darling homophobe Bruce however quickly changed my mind. On his computer -password liviticus if you believe, no originality whatsoever that shit- I found some very sickening images of some very sickening deeds. The only thought on my mind at the time was revenge. I didn’t know the guy in the photos but it didn’t really matter. He was one of us and that was enough.

I dressed as slutty as I could made Bruce out to be despite his size and build. Checked if his cellphone had a decent camera, surprisingly it did and drove to the nearest park. I found the toilets and you can guess my activity for the next two hours. Don’t worry I wasn’t cruel I played it safe, though I have no idea why I extended Bruce that courtesy, I guess an inbred happed of James seeped through. Next I spent the evening in the local gay bar followed by sauna.

A win-win in my book.

I got some much needed release even though even in this crude and decrepit state and Bruce a humbling experience he’d never forget. The photo’s made sure of that, so did the police and all his family and friends. I admit I broke many of my own rules that day.

From that point on I paid attention to who I was for the day and I wouldn’t have changed any of them if I ever had the chance.

- 17:15 -

Another workday finished Jordan and I were parting ways near the metrostation down the street. When a thought hit me out of nowhere.

“Jordan could you do me a favour?”

“Sure, Adam anything.” Man these boys both have it bad for each other.

“Ask me out to lunch tomorrow.”

“Er… Ok. Can’t we just arrange it now?”

“No!” Adam won’t remember this tomorrow. “You know how I am in the morning, I’ll most likely forget even though I wish won’t.” Jordan gave me a smile that even my James self would have taken notice of.

I arrive at Adams place with the answering machine blinking.

“Hey it’s me, Neo just calling to remind you of Jake’s birthday party tomorrow. You better not cancel again on us dude. Don’t worry all you need to do is show up and have a little fun. It’s not like I expect you to go crazy and invite that colleague of yours you’ve been crushing over for a least a year now! Anyway we miss you, show your face once in a while.” Click

Now there’s an idea. I text Jordan with the invite, he responds immediately. It’s cute. I ate something from the meager contents of his fridge and riffle through his papers. Why was this guy so skint? He had a decent salary and from what I’ve seen he doesn’t seem to be at all extravagant in his expenditure.

After some digging I found the reason why. Massive medical debts. Not Adam’s but his mothers, she died two years earlier of cancer. Of course the debt that came with it did not die with her.

For once however this was something I could deal with or at least try and sort it out a little better. Once upon a time when I was still James every time I woke up, I was a banker. I’m very good with money and know all the tips and tricks more make it have babies. I called up Adams bank and a few hours later his loans were altered so he’d be paying off the capital instead of the interest. I’d set up some accounts for him with a very modest amount that I could scratch together as I shuffled around some expenses. Those accounts would be slowly building up over time. Within a few months to a year he’d at least be a lot more comfortable than he is now.

I can’t work miracles but just maybe I can help a little. I type a note on his laptop explaining his new financial situation and why money has been shifted around. Don’t want my efforts to go to waste now do we?

I slide into bed at midnight hoping for a good nights sleep. I’ve stopped wondering where I’ll wake in the mornings. We’ll see when I next open my eyes who I’ll be.


___^___

 - 06:00 -

The first thing I notice is the sound of rain. Oddly restful listening to the pitter of rain against the windowpanes it’s very peaceful. I roll off a very hard mattress and do a mental check before registering anything else.

Male genitals check!

That rapidly became the very first thing I checked after my first day as a woman. I still shudder when I recall it; boobs are nice enough to look at even

I can appreciate the female form. But touching? No, thank you! To damn soft and wobbly for my tast.

Next are the arms and legs, haven’t yet woken up without any of them still attached but with the way this country fights it wars it isn’t, sadly enough, an entirely uncommon thing to see these day.

Then I check the state of my hands, a split second assessment of age.

Damn, old hands. Old mans hands complete with liver spots and grey hair. The instant I see the age of my palms I feel the creaks and groans that accompany them throughout my body. I stand up and assess. Bit of a belly to him, strong legs though and broad shoulders. Not too bad for an aged man, I find a mirror and see that I have a full head of brilliantly white hair. Quite dashing to be honest. The lines on my face tell me I’m in the 60’s to 70’s agerange.

I dress in some comfortable clothes I find in his men’s store of a closet. Immediately I fall in love with this mans house as I stroll through it. It’s absolutely beautiful, light and airy yet still cozy and very homey. Build in the middle of a forest it feels with all those trees outside that I spy from the large windows everywhere. What a wonderful house, a real home. I wander around as if attending an exhibition. I wonder who the architect is?

One of the last rooms I enter is one of the most beautiful; it’s the owner’s den. I can’t even fully describe it to be honest, a warm heartfelt room. As the rest of the house the room was tidy and clean all except for the desk, which lay buried under a mass of papers. Taking a seat I carefully start reading through them. At first I thought they were pages of a private journal yet it didn’t make much sense. Even after an hour nothing made any sense until the phone rang.

I try not to pick up phones if I can help it. If had some very awkward conversations with total strangers leaving us both confused which can lead to some ever more awkward situations. Luckily this man had an answering machine so I remain seated at this desk trying to figure out what all this reminiscing is all about.

“You’ve reached the residence of Harald Dalgaard, I’m not around at the moment. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.” beeeeeep

“Hey Dad, it’s me.” A voice erupts from the phone. “I guess you’re out walking, are you as nervous as I am?” The voice sounded excited and jumpy you could hear the guys smile through the speakers. “I guess you wouldn’t be nervous and it’s normal that I am nervous. I mean it is normal right? That I’m nervous. I thought I’d be calmness itself, I mean I’m always calm right Dad?” I smile as the guy rattles on all hyped up, it’s seeping into my brain that the voice sounds familiar but I can’t place it no matter how I try. “I know getting married isn’t something you do everyday and I have a right to be jittery.”

I see.

Suddenly this mess starts making sense.

“You know I still can’t believe it. I don’t think it will fully sink in until he’s standing next to me saying I do. God I hope he says I do, I mean you wouldn’t ask someone to marry you and then bow out at the last second would you?” I hear panic in his voice yet it settles almost as soon as it arose. “No, not my Gem. Did he tell you his best man took him bungee jumping for his bachelor party! He came home yesterday with a smile as big as moon I swear! He had so much fun! He gets really affectionate when he’s happy and a little bit tipsy like that. You know dad…” the voice pauses for a moment I realize I’ve stopped reading the pages in front of my and am enjoying listening to this guy talk while staring at the answering machine. “I guess… I understand now Dad. I understand what you and mom had. “ The voice becomes soft and nostalgic. “I’ll be forever thankful that I’ve found someone equal to that.” Another pause before the voice scoffed audibly rolling his eyes. “Although if you would have told me who it was that would eventually fill that position three years ago I would have laughed in your face or perhaps punched you. I don’t know if I ever told you this dad but I’d met Gem a few years before. At that point in time he was about a million miles away from the man he is today. It just goes to show life can really throw you a curve ball sometimes…” Another pause before the hyped up jittery version of the voice suddenly boomed through the speakers. “Shit I have to go pick up our suits!  I have to go dad, call me when you can. NO! Scratch that don’t call I am a wreck as it is now who knows what I’ll be in a few hours. I’ll see you tomorrow, you’re picking me up at NINE don’t forget! Don’t worry about the speech either. Aunt Mable’s been telling me how it’s gotten you in knots. Just be yourself dad, say whatever feels right.” Click.

I look down at the mess of papers with whole new eyes. A speech. A father’s speech at his sons wedding. I start sorting the papers into their chronological order. As it is now this mess isn’t a speech it’s a draft version of a book of memoirs.

I start to edit. It takes me the best part of the afternoon to wade through all these papers. In the end I didn’t need to rewrite a single line, all I actually had to do was highlight the best that had gotten buried with all the other unnecessary fillings.

I type it all up in one document, print it out and play it neatly on his desk next to his stack of now highlighted notes. You can clearly see I haven’t changed anything just filtered through the exess.

- 19:00 -

I order in some dinner cause although this man has  a fabulously stocked fridge I can’t cook for a damn. The man also has a very fine record collection. I eat while listening to the crackles in the vinyls, heaven.

After dinner I enjoy a smoky whiskey on the terrace, music playing in the house behind me and nature’s sounds in front me. It’s one of the most peaceful evenings I’ve had in a very long time.

 - 23:00 -

I ready myself for bed, set the alarm clock and tape note on the snooze button. Reminding this man it’s his sons wedding TODAY not tomorrow, that he has to pick said son up at 9 o’clock and his speech is finish on his desk.

Before I close my eyes however I glance to the right side of the room. There were photo’s perched on the dresser I hadn’t bothered to look at today. I don’t particularly pay attention to these people photo’s it all gets so confusing after a couple of faces. This time my eyes almost instinctively lock on an old almost faded photograph.

I freeze when I see the women’s face. Slowly I crawl out of bed and reach for the picture frame. It depicts a woman, hugging a young boy both smiling at the photographer.

I know that face.

I was that face.

My fingers trace the little boys face. A boy. A baby boy I hadn’t known the sex of the baby that day. That day I’d been a women, the one-day I’ll forever treasure. The day I woke up seven months pregnant. It had been just me in their house in the country. The husband had gone some business trip or another. All day long I had felt the baby move inside me.

I fell head over heels in love with that unborn baby that day. It was beyond strange, probably the hormones coursing through the woman’s body. I felt such love for this child and it wasn’t even born. It wasn’t even mine.

The child that was going to get married tomorrow. The child who’s father I got to be today. I resisted the urge to grab the phone and call him instead I dug through the house in search of a photo album. I located them in a bookcase in the den. I took it back to the bedroom and looked through it until I fell asleep.

So many picture of this little boy growing up, smiling and playing in front of the camera. Some with teeth missing grins or with crocodile tears.  Others picturing a grumpy teenager or a cocky smile. Picture after picture I got to see this boy’s life.

Nathaniel.

He turned into a quite a handsome young man too. He would have definitely turned my head if I ever met him as James. He does look familiar.

Wait a minute.

I turn back a few pages to the grumpy teenager photograph. It’s taken at an outdoor barbecue in a park. There is nothing unusual about the picture, though Nathaniel’s annoyed teenager glare is endearing. It’s the dog on the corner of the photograph that catches my attention. That’s Bobby. I remember Bobby I was Bobby’s owner once for a day. There are more pictures from that barbecue in the album. I search through them all. There he is in the last picture. A guy throwing a stick for his dog in the background. All at once I recognize the purple tablecloth their using for the barbecue. I remember that purple tablecloth. I remember thinking it really stood out that day at the park. The guy in the photograph is me.

__^__

 - 12:00 -

It’s been about seven faces since I was the old man in that amazing house. The faces I’ve been since haven’t been very thrilling. Mostly it's been going through the motions.

I’m sitting in a nice park with my lunch on my lap. Manny Gonzales is a landscape worker. Undiscovered artist  more like. He’s doing this couples garden over the road from the park. He’s self-employed so I couldn’t bale on todays work much how I detest gardening. My dad made me do our garden work throughout my childhood. Wind, rain or sleet those weeds had and would be taken care of.

Luckily I only have to follow the garden plan he’s worked out before hand and I wasn’t mucking it up too much either.

Today is a hot day so I’m very sweaty and Manny has a little problem with his glands. Hydration, hydration, Hydration! Lunch was a treat, for me at least. Manny’s wife apparently works an early shift at the hospital. She leaves him a thermos full of hot coffee with a post it note with a little joke written on it. Today's was “What is the tallest building in the world?”. Flip side: a library cause of all the stories. A wonderfully sad joke, perfect for those early mornings. Plus a ready made lunchbox, how lucky is this guy?

I look up at the sound of children playing. It's Saturday so the park being filled isn’t that unusual. I eat while I'm being entertained by these children antics.

“Don’t eat the sand this time!” I hear a fathers voice yell as two small tikes race passed me towards the swings. I chuckled inwardly at the sentiment, such a parental thing to say. I can just see my own mother yell that at me and my brother when we were young. I haven’t thought of my actual family in a very long while. Not many of my memories are good ones so I rather not think of them at all. My lunch done I start packing up my things. The father of the sand eating kids passes me by and I almost have a heart attack right then and there.

There I am.

That’s me. Dressed differently than I remember dressing. More relaxed in posture than I’ve ever been before. Hair free and not slicked back, comfortable shoes. I stare at my own back as I walk to the playground. My eyes zoom to the swings yet here are so many children there now, I can’t remember which ones were this man’s.

I mean mine.

Holy shit. I stare at his or my back and see the man that is me stop in his tracks. He slowly checks his watch as if to varity something. He's about to turn around and obviously look me right in the face when he stops himself. He doesn’t turn around but I see his cheeks lifts in a smile as he turns forwards once more and proceeds leisurely towards the playground a little bounce in his step.

I flee. 

Yes, I admit I flee from the park. I flee from Manny’s work for the day and I run.

That wasn’t me. It was someone who looked and talked like I do but that wasn’t me. I’m not a Dad. I’m not so carefree and – and- HAPPY. That wasn’t me. Who was that? Has someone been living in my body all this time that I’ve been awakening?

No, I’m not that man. I can’t be that man.

Who the hell am I? Manny? Rosa? Adam? Clint? Ronald? Gustave? Jan? Corneel?

I’ve been all of those yet I'm none of them.

Who I am?

___^___

 - 06:00 -

The alarm sounds yet I don’t really want to open my eyes. Not today. Can’t I just have a day off from this hell? One day of respite, one day without obligations to people I’ll never be or see ever again? One day without this emotional rollercoaster to great me at any turn.

I cocoon myself in the duvet on the bed I'm in. The day I saw my actual self really threw me. Come to think of it that was yesterday, yesterday for me that is. I don’t know why it scared me so much but it terrified me. What I can’t figure out though is what exactly terrified me?

The duvet is soft and fluffy very much like the one I had when I was James every day. The mattres is also perfect. Not too soft, not too hard. Now this is a bed I could sleep the day away in. I almost do, expect my bladder isn’t cooperating. I hope the guy who’s bladder this is, is gratefully I don’t just let loose in his bed.

I drag myself to bathroom, my eyes almost crusted shut from sleep. It’s been awhile since that’s happened. I pee, still oblivious to the world until I splash my face at the sink and feel, my face.

My face. 

I snap up and stare at myself in my bathroom mirror. My own bathroom, my own mirror and my own face. My world finally swims into focus and I realize I am indeed in my own appartement. I just dragged myself out of my own bed with it’s perfect mattress and fluffy duvet. I stare at my hands. I’m in my own skin.

I throw on a pair of boxers from my chest of drawers and almost run into the living room where I skid to a halt. In essence it is still the same room yet it obvious there have been people living here in my absence. There are notes and pictures and trinkets everywhere. I have no idea where to rest my eyes first. That is until something grabs my attention.

“PRESS PLAY” A large sign demands stuck to my laptop. It's has been prominently placed in the middle of the room. For the second time in two days I’m terrified, what does this mean? What happened to me while I was awakening? Do I want to know?

I’m trembling as I take a seat across from my laptop and press play.

James’s face, I mean my face zooms into view. He smiles at the camera and gives a little wave.

“Hi there, if you look like the guy that’s talking to you now you must be very confused.” James starts, I say James cause it clearly wasn’t me. It's my body but not my posture or facial expressions. It hardly looked like me at all. “Trust me I woke up this morning with the same feeling. Before I start for the mayor stuff. If you are a minor not even 14 years old it is very important that you stay inside today. Lock the door. Plunder the snack cabinet next to the fridge and have a great time with the limitless cable, games console and internet connection. Just don’t go outside it would be so dangerous for you. Just take a day off and stay in. For the rest of us it isn’t so easy. Apparently you’re in the body of a certain James Hoekstra. James is a banker, 30 years old, lives in this very nice flat alone.” James on screen takes a good pointed look around the room. “From what I can tell James is vain, arrogant and a bit of a jerk. He works out a lot and doesn’t have many friends and no family to speak of. But for all that he’s still a human being and needs our respect. I don’t know why we woke up in his body and I can only hope that if he wakes up in our body for the day he’ll extent us the same courtesy. You see I woke up as James in the hospital this morning. Apparently James has been acting very strange these passed few weeks. I believe that there have been quite a few people before me who’s woken up as James. Yet apparently one of them couldn’t handle it and tried to commit suicide.”

A chill ran through me.

“That James left this outrageous suicide note and citing quite of few bible verses I didn’t even know existed. Clearly not the authentic James Hoekstra who is a very promiscuous gay man. I managed to talk my way out of the hospital how I don’t know but I’m glad I did. We can’t run this mans life into the ground. We need to do his job play out the day and take head on what comes our way. Even as the atheist I am, I pray to god he does the same for us. ”

“Behind you.” James on screen points passed me “I’ve made a storyboard of James’s life. His relations, his family everything I could find in the limited time I had. Please try to expand it any way you can. The more we know the easier it will be for the next person to wake up as James. I’ve made piles of papers and envelops on the table. I suggest we each write down what we’ve done for the day so there is some kind of record for when James actually wakes up as himself again. Date them and seal them, that is all I ask. Please let this setup not go to waste. Please for the love of any diety you chose don’t try to contact your actual self. I can’t even imagine the ramifications of that so lets all just play it safe and not have the space-time continuum implode us. If you are watching this and you are the actual James Hoekstra. Hi James, I had a blast being you for a day. I hope when you wake up that you aren’t the same James as you where when this all started cause that wasn’t a James I think anyone enjoyed. My real name is Adam Roldar and I wish you all the luck in the world.”

I sat frozen. So many thoughts running through my brain that it felt like my mind was empty. White noise rising canceling out all other interference. Adam? Little insignificant Adam did all this? I pan the room and I choke up. The storyboard behind me as grown exponentially to what Adam has set it up to. On the table lay a mountain of thick envelops. My once grey and tastefully beige appartement is brimming with colour. Someone even painted my living room ,the one cream-colored walls where a warm terracotta red.

The first thing I did was stumble my way to the bar an poor myself I very stiff cognac. As I down the drink I note how easy it is to move in my own skin once again. I also notice something on my arm out of corner of my eye. I lower my glass and stare at the tattoo adorning my biceps. Apparently one of my awakee’s found it necessary to internalize their stay in my body with a atom model on my arm. Guess I’m not the only one that watched a lot of TV as a child.

Oddly enough the tattoo doesn’t bother me. It's nicely done actually, I who did it. I try to remember if there was a tattoo buff among one the bodies I occupied. I move to the story board and I’m amazed. Watching Adam’s video was surreal enough but to think people actually followed his set up. Some of them even made new friends while being me and taped a picture of them on the wall. There where so many new additions and dates that without some broader context I couldn’t really make head nor tails of it. 

So I decided to take a shower.

I think I was in shock to be honest.

As I calmly showered I reacquainted myself with my own body and if you haven’t been in this situation before it’s eye opening. Seeing yourself in the mirror again after so long is profound. That is me. Those are my eyes. That’s my stubble, my cleft in my chin. Me

I am Me.

- 09:30 -

I’m showered, dressed in clothes I found in my closet. Apparently one of my awakee’s found it necessary to get rid of every single item I owned an replace my wardrobe. I can only guess it was Rudy. He was a celebrity stylist I woke up as one morning.

I sit with my cup of coffee at my dinning room table. Amazing coffee that will have been from Charlie. Charlie’s was a coffee bean salesmen. He had an array of amazing beans at his place.

I count 171 envelopes on the table. One-Hundred-and-Seventy-One! Knowing there were a good few before Adam set up this system and a good few who probably didn’t follow the system at all? Yes Candice, I’m thinking of you. The total should be about 200 or so. Its amazing 171 people followed through.

I can’t fully remember when this started what day it was that I wasn’t in my own body anymore. But by the looks of the dates on the enveloped I’m guessing I was body hopping for months. Had I really been so many people? 

Each envelope contained a letter, some reseats or photo’s even sometimes a schematics of what the person did that day. Mark Lindon a fellow banker had basically saved my job. Apparently the suicide attempt explained my erratic behaviour to my employer and I’d been on special leave ever since. Yet Mark did set up long list of scheduled work for fellow wakupee's to follow. Which meant I could still contribute to the bank with alternately working from home. I came back at the right time I see cause that list had just about to run dry.

Dear James, QUIET SMOKING FOR GOODNESS SAKE! I…” Ah the heart surgeon Penelope. Don’t worry Penny I quiet quite some time ago.

“Dear James, I threw out your ‘little black book’, honestly young man aren’t you ashamed of yourself…” I actually chuckled at Gideon’s letter. Yeah my little black book of conquests I had, keeping it up to date year after year. I felt no pang of loss at its demise. Gideon a great old grandfather I got to be for a day about a hundred faces ago. Had eight five children, twelve grandkids and knew all the names, favourite colours and animals of every single one of them. He and Elisa had been married for 51 years at the time. Thank god they had moved passed a physical relationship but that day I guess I got to see how a couple could be after so many years. They shared an intense friendship, Elisa was also one of the few people ever to sus me out. She had me down pat in about three seconds. ‘Who are you and what have you done with my Giddy?’ She also didn’t question my honest explanation. She nodded and went about her day dragging me everywhere they normally went and providing me with a running commentary. That was a great day. I remember it well.

 “Dear James I rearranged your closet and ordered….” Rudy

“Dear James, I had a very confusing day as you. Are you gay dude? I mean I have no problem…” Oh college man Miles, smart cookie that one. I hope he wasn’t too mad at me when he arrived back in his body. Miles had a little bit of an ‘experiment’ while I was him. I regret that though, I hope that friendship didn’t go down the drain afterwards I mean I was a pretty irresponsible thing to do. Miles was in my early days of awakening. Plus he’s gorgeous, I had a hard time keeping my hands of his body, his best friend however was even better looking, really sweet and a touch naïve. Killer combination. As I read his letter I feel less of a douche than before. Apparently his day as James kind of opened the boys eyes and mind for more than what he’s been sampling as of yet.

“Dear James, Please find enclosed a number of….”

“Dear James, when was the last time you had a colonoscopy! ….

“Dear James, I guess I should start by telling you …"

So it went on envelope after envelope. One contained nothing more than a child’s drawing of what I guess was me and him watching tv. With crudely written “TANK YOU DJAMS

It took me hours and hours to read them all. Some made me laugh, some made me cringe and others even left me in tears. Especially Rosa’s letter Nathaniel’s mother.

James Lillian Hoekstra,

As far as I can tell I’m the 49th envelope on this table. I don’t know what kind of man you’ll be when you read these. I guess many letter before me have probably broached the fact that we haven’t had the best impression of your life so far. As mother in waiting I will confess I tried to track your own down. I succeeded in some way, I visited her grave and left some roses behind today. You should go more often it’s a nice sight you picked out. I'm sorry about your brother. I tried to track your father down but I guess you know better than I do that’s a lost cause if ever I’ve seen one. I understand you better as I write this than I did this morning and I hope you forgive me my meddling. I needed to know the man behind this disguise you’ve build  up for yourself. As your well aware I’m pregnant. A little boy, you better have treated my boy well you hear or I will track you down in the future and kick your ass!

It has been a very strange day indeed, something very profound happened to me while I sit here. An epiphany if you will. I realize that I love you. I’ve come to love you in just one day as a second son. I didn’t expect this. On the surface you’re anything but ideal son material but as I said I dug deeper into your passed. Though you’ve left a bad taste behind for many people there are also those who love you still. Even now. I had a long conversation with Aunty Maureen, you really should contact her more James, she isn’t getting any younger and really holds you dear, my dear.

So now I think you need to hear a few things James.

First of all: It’s never too late. Never there is always time to rewrite wrongs and mend bridges. There is always time to set yourself straight and be that person you secretly have always wanted to be.

Second. You are loved.

Lots of love

Rosa Dalgaard.”

Near the end of the envelopes I found her husbands letter. Harald hadn’t written me an extensive narrative of his day. Some of it didn’t make any sense at all. Something knotted in my stomach as I tried to figure it out. This man had been days away from his son getting married. What had been running through his mind?

The letter consisted of two short paragraphs.

  • James = Jimmy, Jamie, Jaim, Jim, Jimbo, Jas, Jazz, Jay, JayJay, Jam, Jem.
  • “Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colours. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.” - Terry Pratchett.

That’s all he wrote.

A single piece of paper adorned with two paragraphs that don’t even deserve the extra distinction.

It was well passed midnight when I finished all the letters. At some point I had realized I was postponing going to sleep. I was me again but what if I woke up tomorrow morning as another person? I don’t think I could handel all this a second time around. As the sky lightened outside as I stayed surrounded by letters in my sofa. Reading and reading them all. I wanted to be me. Please let me stay me today.

___^___

 - 06:00 -

The sun shone across my eyes waking me, I shifted in the bed I was sleeping in to feel paper scrapping my skin where a blanket should be. My eye pop open and I almost burst out in tears. I wasn’t waking up in some strangers bed in different skin, I’d simply fallen asleep on my sofa surrounded by my letters.

 I was me!

I brush my teeth, wash my face and dress in clothes I found in my closet. They fit me nicely, they wouldn’t have been clothes I would have picked out myself once upon a time but I can’t fault them. They make me feel good.

I stand in the living room as I did yesterday morning. I’m me again, I’m me and from now on I’ll be me day in day out. I look around and get the same overwhelming feeling as I did yesterday in this very position. I’m me. Yet I’ve been so many other people too. I am not the me I was before this started. I’m me, yet a different me.

Which me am I? Who is me?


___^___

- Two days later 08:00 –

I arrive at work in my new work suit, still stylish yet less severe than my old suits. How odd that a change of clothes in my own skin can make me feel so very different. It has takes me two days just to catch up with my own life.

My colleagues greet me happily when they see me. Two stop me on my way to my office to chitchat. Chit – Chat, James L. Hoekstra has never chitchatted with colleagues in his life. Work is a place you can never be yourself at all costs. My awakee’s however have been handeling things differently. I had an inkling of this while I was reading my letters and piecing together Adam’s storyboard. I’m nervous. I’m nervous to be me.

The second thing that blows my mind is that I’m actually interesting in what people are telling me. Janne has a little girl she’s started gushing to me about when we take a coffee break together. Rilo wants to know when we’ll pick up another game of lacrosse. Polly invites me to go drinking with the gang after work.

I’m perplexed. Before these people hadn’t really been people in my eyes. They’d been colleagues and colleagues aren’t real people. Now however, they are friends.

- 12:00 -

Lunch with Matt and Linda I gathered from the storyboard that this had become something usual in my routine. Matt is a guitar player in his free time and somehow he knew I play too, though I perfer bass. Hardly anyone knows I play bass, it must have been Tullan, he’s a musician. He probably sussed out anything musical about my apartment in seconds.

- 18:00 -

I let my keys fall in the little bowl Noah picked up at the antic market at Christmas. Good eye that guy, owned an antics shop in the dainty part of town. It was an experience to be surrounded by so much history for a day.

I cook dinner, I’m not a great cook but Gerry, an restaurant chef, left my kitchen idiot proof. I have a binder full recipes. Though only a few are really set up for one person, I always to make too much.

I spend my evening sorting out the letters, tomorrow I’m taking them to be bound in a nice cover, to keep them properly. The thing I still don’t remember everyone I’ve been but at least when I read the letters I know it wasn’t all in my mind.

Tomorrow when I wake up I’ll be me, most definitely I’ll be me.


___^___

- One week later 18:00 –

My keys fall in the little bowl by the door. The apartment is quiet. My apartment isn’t what it used to. It’s warm, it’s neat and tidy as always but it isn’t monotonous or fancy anymore. There is personality, not all my own personality, but don’t worry I’m working on that. I’ve taken down the storyboard. Yet now the apartment seems strangely empty.

I guess I miss them. I miss my awakee’s. I have my work, which is fine; I enjoy it so much more now. I have fun colleagues and my days seem a little brighter. Yet at home I’m alone.

I go out with my new friends for bit here and there but nothing like before. I’ve lost my appetite for drinking and smoking. I jog around the park instead of spending hours in the gym pumping up for no reason.

I don’t feel the need to go cruising anymore either. Well that’s a lie; I’m often tempted to go out. To be out among people and have some fun, maybe dance a little. At the same time though it scares the shit out me. I’m terrified if I did go out to my usual haunts I’d somehow revert back to my passed behaviour. Like an alcoholic trying to stay sober working behind the bar.

Reverting back to the douche I once was, to that withdrawn, arrogant idle man. That scares me most of all. I don’t want to be that man anymore; I don’t want to be that man ever again. I want to be me.

My shoulders are shaking and tears run down my cheeks. I sink to my hunches and grab my knees and I cry.

I cry cause I want to be the me I am now yet I’ve never felt so alone.

I guess I never knew what I was missing and as I realize my loss I have no idea what to do about it.

___^___

- Another Two Weeks Later 10:00 –

Saturday, always a lazy day for me, barely struggle out of bed as it is. I brush my teeth and see myself stare back at me through the mirror glass.  I slip on some clothes and head towards the kitchen. I understand now why people call the kitchen the heart of a home. At least making something to eat gives me something to do. After breakfast I should go jogging. Will the laundry I hung up last night be dry?  

-17:00-

I’ve become a circus artist in the kitchen. Juggling pots and pans so nothing cooks over isn’t the easiest job in the world I can tell you! The phone rings and I take the pasta of the stove wiping my hands on a dishcloth and scoop up the receiver.

“At Hoekstra.”

“Jim!” Male baritone, with a raspy undercurrent yeah that’s Mike. Also the Irish accent kind of gives him away. I met Mike at a game of lacrosse with Rilo my colleague from the bank. Jim, that’s another thing that’s changed. I used to be very prissy about my name. James nothing else just JAMES. Now, well now I don’t really care that much. I guess being called so many different names while I was awakening change that rigid stance for me rather drastically.

“Hey Mike. Whatsup?”

“Trying to get some guys together for a game? Fancy coming along?”

“Sure, I’ve got nothing planned. What time?”

“About sevenish at the local. That work for you?”

“Works great.” If I eat now it will have settled by the time the games starts. Nothing worse than exercising on a full stomach.

- 20:30 -

Mike slams down next to me on the bench out of breath and sweating like a horse.  We lost the game that wasn’t really the point of playing, I happy to say. I used to be a real dick about winning. I’ve found I can really enjoy just playing to play. Playing for the fun of it. No stress just sports.

I like Mike, he’s very straightforward yet very reserved. A very strange mixed but it really works for him. Very loyal too, we only met a few weeks ago and he often treats me like his best goddamn friend.

“Come on you pathetic piece of primate.” He also grows on you the more you know him. “You’re not getting out of it this time.”

“Getting out of what?” I ask whipping down my face with a towel still panting from the intensity of the game, my arms are going to be sore tomorrow.

“Celebratory drink with the team.”

“We lost.”

“Who cares!”

“I don’t drink.” I could tell he was biting his tongue with this one. I guess that didn’t make sense to him but he was willing to be nice about it. Says a lot about the guy. People tend to look at me strangely lately when I tell them I’ve gone off the liquor. 

“No mind, drink cranberry juice apparently it tastes just like blood wine.” Still there are times he makes no sense to me at all.

“I guess I could it’s just -”

“No justs! Just do. Go on get freshened up and meet us back here in 30 min. Don’t forget I actually know where you live, so if you aren’t here I’m coming over there to fetch you. Plus I’m Irish I can sweet talk my way into any building.”

“I don’t doubt it man.” I laugh, I laugh on the outside yet inside I’m sweating a different kind of sweat. Out for a drink.

- 21:00 -

I fidget with the zipper of my jacket and bite my lip. I feel a little lost right now, I used to be the king of clubbing, partying and hanging out. Now, now I feel like a novice stepping out for the first time. I’ve taken my precautions though. I only have a limited amount of cash on me so even if I laps into drink I can’t get drunk. Not without funds at the very least.

Rilo is the first to join me freshly showered and slowly the rest of the gang gathers around. Mike is the unspoken leader of the group, he effortlessly takes charge and head us off to a bar he frequents.

He orders us a round and before I can say anything he places a glass of cranberry juice in front of me. I get a few odd looks from the guys but no one really comments. I guess if the unspoken alpha of the groups okay’s it, it must be all right. My fear slowly dissipates as the evening goes on. Everyone is just chatting and having a little fun. Conversation centering on girlfriends and wives and that new science fiction program that’s said to be amazing and this and that.

Elliot a little guy and a very good shooter on court turns to me and loudly asks about my girlfriend.

“I’m not attached at the moment.”

“Single? You?” He eyes me incredulously.  I don’t know why this notion seems so alien to him; as a matter of fact I’ve never actually had a steady relationship. Always been to busy butterflying.

I think Rilo can tell that I’m getting uncomfortable with this conversation. He grips my shoulders jovially. “Lucky bastard free as a bird you are, speaking of being free get us a refill will you I think it’s your turn to buy Jim.”

It’s a diversion maneuver and I’m grateful it works cause the whole table shouts their order at me. It’s strange though I used to revel in my eternal bachelor status. For some insane reason nowadays I feel ashamed about it. What a weird emotion to experience.

I catch the bartenders eye after a few misses at the crowed bar and rattle of the list of beverages I need. I drum my fingers on the bar as I hum the same melody and watch the bartender tend to my order.

“Oh! And a cranberry juice for me.” I add almost forgetting my own thirst-quencher. The bartender nods catching my last minute add on.

“Cranberry juice?” An amused voice next me chimes in. “I hear it tastes just like blood wine.”

I laugh, “You know you’re the second person tonight who-“ My words stick in my throat as I turn to face the guy beside me.

I stare.

He frowns.

“What cat got you’re tongue James?” The guy says, there’s a certain chill to his voice that pricks needles in my heart.

“You know who I am?”

The guy rolls his eyes and sighs. “Figures you wouldn’t remember me. You weren’t the cranberry drinking type a few years ago. Then again I don’t expect a guy to remember every guy’s ass he’s grabbed and try to bed. Especially when he a jerk about it.”

I swallow hard. Instantly I forget everything about what I’m even doing at the bar. Although the drinks keep pilling up in front of me to give me some indication of my activity. I’m momentarily lost again.

“You’re right.” I croak. The guy’s noise twitches and his lips form a fine line. I guess I must have been a real bastard to him once upon a time. Since I’ve awakened for the hopefully last time as myself I’ve felt guilt and shame of how I used to be yet believed that what was once done can’t be undone. So let bygones be bygones. Although that is easier said than done. This time however is the first time I regret those actions as thoroughly as I do right at this minute.  “You’re right”, I repeat. “I wasn’t the cranberry drinking type back then.” I swallow hard and look him right in the eyes as he takes a swig of his drink. “I am now though, Nathaniel.”

Not a second later he’s coughing and splutters as he chokes on his drink, spilling some on his shirt. I reach out to pat his back but retract my hand. Probably not a welcomed gesture from the likes of me.

Mike comes up in lieu of helping me carry back all the drinks. He raises his eyebrows with a sly smile, grabs some drinks and disappears again. Nathaniel is still in shock as he stares at me incredulously.

“Hey Neo!” Another voice calls out beside us and a young man pats Nathaniel amicably on the back. I guess I’ve just figured out my mistake. He doesn’t routinely go by Nathaniel, everyone knows him as Neo. I pay for the drinks and grab my juice. I’m about to head back to my own table when I see who Neo’s friend actually is.

I almost stumble over my feet and making the guy laugh at my expense. His tone indicated a good-natured giggle instead of a mocking scoff.

“Neo, won’t you introduce us your friend.”

“He isn’t my friend. James – Jordan. Jordan – James.”

I hold out my hand “Jim Hoekstra.” We shake hands while Jordan’s eyes light up and Nathaniel’s narrow some. Yeah, I used to be a real bitch about the name thing.

“James Hoekstra? You’re kidding me!” he’s oddly happy to see me. Both Nathaniel and I are confused as to why.  “Adam isn’t going to be psyched to see you!”

Without a doubt this evening is getting more bizarre and surreal by the second.

“Adam knows James?” Nathaniel asks almost comically flabbergasted at the very notion.

“For sure! You remember that friend he mentions from time to time? The one that helped him out when he was really struggling?”

“Yeah but –“ Nathaniel starts and then stops slowly turning to face me. “No way…”

“Very yes way! Come on Jim.” Jordan grabs my arm before I can even protest. I can’t remember this guy being so assertive. Then again I only really knew him for a day. He drags me to a table at the other side of the bar, Nathaniel close behind. I guess every kind of disaster has its tourists.

Right there at their table is a very familiar face. “Adam! Look who I’ve found!” Jordan chirps happily presenting me as some pagan offering ripe for the slaughter.

I wave awkwardly gripping my juice tightly. Adam eyes momentarily pop then he almost seamlessly lays on an effortless smile and gets up for a hug.

This is beyond weird.

“James! Man it’s good to see you again.” There is humor in his eyes, which are a little older now, though not by much. He’s not that cripplingly shy IT guy he once was that’s blindingly obvious, it’s even apparent in his dress. Nice clothes, not to too flashy or fancy but very Adam.

Jordan heads of to the bar for drinks and Nathaniel goes to the bathroom to wash some off the drink he spluttered on his shirt before. Leaving Adam and me alone at the table.

“It is James right?” Adam asks his tone low.

I nod and clear my throat. “Yes. Yes I’ve been me for a while now. Call me Jim.”

“That’s great news. Jim.” He smiles gripping my hand reassuringly. “I wanted to thank you for what you did for me that day. I was never sure if I should contact you or not cause I wasn’t sure if you were actually going to be you.”

“Really you don’t -” I try but that doesn’t get me very far.

“I really do.” He implores. “In all likelihood you saved my life. I don’t know how long I was going to be able to hold on in that state. Luckily I didn’t have to find out. I still can’t work out what you did exactly but I’ve been able to pay off all the medical bills. Plus Jordan did ask me to lunch the next day and the next and the next. We live in a much nicer place now.” He’s glowing. Wow, so that’s how that looks like.

I don’t really know what to say. The sight of such simple happiness is more overwhelming than all the other events of the evening put together. I grip my juice as I circle the glass rim with my index finger.

“171.”

“What?” Adam regards me amusedly.

“There were 171 envelopes. All dated, all sealed.”

This of course is the moment Nathaniel and Jordan choose the rejoin the table.

“Adam what’s wrong?” Nathaniel demands shocked, I look up to see why. Adam’s eyes are brimming with tears. “Did he say something mean to you?” Nathaniel huffs angrily in that certain way a person does when they anticipate the answer.

“Neo, please don’t overreact!” Adam grins unshed tears disappearing again. “It’s just so good to see Jim again that’s all.”

Nathaniel huffs as he parks his arse down opposite me next to Jordan. I sit with this little group for a while as they chitchat and laugh about the drama their daily lives that week. Nathaniel keeps eying me, though I notice each time with less and less suspicion. Every one of those glances warms me inside.

An hour or two later Mike and Rilo come looking for me, the group is moving on to another bar. I beg off, I’m not really in the mood to be surrounded by drunken lacrosse players.

The evening winds down and we all prepare to leave. On the street before the bar I bid Adam and Jordan goodnight. With Adam demanding a solemn promise to stay in touch.

Nathaniel and I walk the same way for a while, I keep my hands firmly in my pockets lest they stray without my consent. The walk is quiet we’re not really saying much of anything. Yet our quietness isn’t at all awkward, as I had anticipated it to be. I guess we’ve both relaxed around the other throughout the evening.

We halt at a crossroads. I’m due right, he’s due left.

As James I always knew how to act and what to say. Not that those words or actions were ever necessarily the right ones. I still had a plan. I’ve found as me, as Jim I’m often rudderless. I guess this is how everyone else feels like on a daily basis. To be frank it’s utterly terrifying.

“You like pool?” Nathaniel suddenly asks. He looks as me his hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, fully zipped up against the night’s chill, his noise and eyes just barely peeking out.

Adorable isn’t an encompassing enough word to diatribe him right then.

“Pool?” I dumbly ask.

“Yes, pool you know it’s that game you play with cues and coloured balls with numbers on them.”

I can’t help but chuckled. “Yes, I know the game Nathaniel.” He gives me the same inquisitive look he’s been casting my way all evening.

“Tomorrow afternoon at three, some of us get together for a few games. Over at Duchamp’s Pool on Enkestreet.”

I nod, I’ll be there. There is no chance in hell that I won’t be there. We each turn into our prospective streets and walk our separate ways.

“Jim?” he calls back

“Yeah?” I have to raise my voice to bridge the increased distance between us. Water damp floats before us in the chill of the air.

“Why Nathaniel? Hardly anyone knows about that.”

“I’ll tell you if you win a game against me tomorrow.” I hedge.

Though I don’t see his smile hidden in the collar of his jacket I can see the laughter in his eyes.

“You’re on!”

__^__

- 27th November 20xx 11:00 –

My hands tremble as I try to tie to bowtie for the sixteenth time. I should have just left it the way the tailor delivered it.  Mike told me so but as usual I only half listened to what he said yesterday. I haven’t been able to concentrate for days.

I’m afraid I’m just one big mess today.

Mike comes bustling in the changing room jabbering on and on about the amount of people that have already arrived, how the venue looks, the nice weather outside. He’s pumped up, more excited than I am for Christ’s sake. The man positively beamed when I asked him to be my best man. Picture one of the little toy rabbits on Duracell batteries.

He’s insane though, the boy took me bungee jumping on my bachelor party. Bungee jumping, Adam thought it was asking for drama luckily my fiancé found it hilarious when I relayed my story that night.

A knock on the door shut him up momentarily and Harry steps in.

“Mike your date arrived, she’s asking for you.” Mike vanishes from the room and Harry almost reverently closes the door behind him.

I’m still trying to get this damn bowtie to cooperate, which isn’t helping the tremble in my hands. Harry’s firm grip pivots me where I stand and brushed my hands away.

“Here let me.” He fixes the tie in a matter of seconds and pats down my tuxedo jacket. Standing before me gripping my shoulders he looks me right in the eye. We’re about the same height so it isn’t a hard feet.

“I guess now I know why you’ve always called him Nathaniel.”

Confused by my father-in-laws words I center my eyes on his and it dawns on me. It’s his son’s wedding day today. Yesterday, years ago, I was him for a day. Words escape me so I don’t try to cage them. There are probably a million things I could have said, that I can say but in all honesty who could think of any of those in this situation in this exact moment.

“It’s a good speech.” He nods releasing my shoulders. “I had no idea that had been lurking in all those pages.”

“It was easy you love him very much.” It’s true I didn’t even have to try very hard. It was all there already.

“If I’ve got my timeline right, the you from yesterday was the one from before you and Neo met each other again.”

“Yes.”

“You still have them all? When it was me, there were about a hundred letters.”

“There were a lot more when I finally got back. Have you ever noticed those think leather volumes I keep in my study at the house?” I ask.

His eyebrow raised and he nods appraisingly. “I’d like to see those one day if that would be ok.”

“Of course it would.”

Harry checks his watch and clears his throat. “Not much time left we better head toward the main event or Neo’s going to be here any second to drag you out there himself.”

His comment makes me chuckle wondrously my nerves have quieted down. “True that but it’s one of the things that makes me love him so much.” I reach into my coat on the rack and hesitate before retrieving my wallet. “But we still have time for this I think.” I take out a folded piece of paper; it has some longstanding wear and tear to it. I’ve read this letter over and over so many times I can recite it from memory. It’s only a copy; I keep all the originals bound at home yet there are two I keep close by.

“It took me the longest time to realize why you’d written what you had. I think it was the first time Nathaniel called me Gem that the penny dropped.”

“The old you would have never allowed a nickname.” He smiled there was no malice in his words though I half expected there to be.

“I’m not the same person I once was Harry, I haven’t been for a long time.”

“I know, I’ve always known you as Gem. The man after the fact. I only got glimpses of the old James that day.”

“Try walking a mile in another’s shoes, isn’t that what they say? I walked many miles in many shoes during my awakenings. You were one, but she was one too.” I hand him raged piece of paper. On one side was Harald’s letter on the other…

“Rosa!” he gasps, dazed he reads her letter. “ I can’t believe it, when?”

“You were out of town for some conference or other, I never knew the details. About two months before Nathaniel was born.”

I guess I’m not the only one trembling today. Harry stumbling onto a chairs and weeps. I wasn’t expecting this, not yet anyway. He’s silent for a long while, the tears have gone. The thing is I’ve never seen this man emotional before, not once in the years I’ve known him, not even close. He really never got over her death.

“Does Neo know?”

I shake my head. “He’s never won a game of pool against me yet. No seriously, I’ve often thought of telling him but I have no idea how to start that conversation. What if…” Thoughts too horrifying to even contemplate.

“He’ll believe you Gem, he won’t run away for such a reason. Even a blind can see you guys are crazy about each other.”

“Still. I’ve loved that man since before he was born Harald. He’s always been close to my heart. Then I met him after I was in my own skin and that love changed form again. We were going through some old albums a few weeks ago. Family vacations you guys went on and all that. One photograph jumped out at me though. Once I woke up as an eleven year old, his family was vacationing at the beach. I played in the sand and swam in the sea. Even found some other kids to build sandcastles with.” I smile at the memory that recently took on a whole different meaning. “I was in that photograph Harry, I’d been Tommy that day and Tommy had met Nathaniel and they played together on the beach. You took a picture to commemorate the day with and the next day I woke up as someone else.”

“I’ve never been able to figure out why all that happened to me Harry. Yet I realize more and more every day that a large part of it centers around Nathaniel. I’ve been his mother, his father, even his friends…” It was a surreal moment to say the least. Both of us, harry and I sitting in this plain changing room. Outside of this room dozens of people bustled about. Nathaniel changing in his own room. Adam and Jordan ushering all our friends to the right seats. Mike probably taking charge of everything he could think of. Outside the room there’s so much activity it stands in sharp contrast to the stillness between Harry and I.

A large banging on the door shook us out of our mood.

“TIME” Mike hollered.

Yes, it was time. This time it was the right time.

__^__

- 15the of May 20xx 19:00 -

I watch Nathaniel close the bedroom door with extreme care. As though any creak of wood would wake the little inhabitants inside. Even though they’re completely out for the count he can’t help but check on them every hour. The hallways is dark and I watching him from the doorway to the living room. He lays a hand on the door silently wishing them blessed dreams.

Nathaniel noticed me watching him and a guilty smile appears on his face. I’ve often caught him doing this exact same ritual. He comes up and cuddles into me. Right then and there I decide.

It’s time he knows.

I take his hand and lead him into the livingroom. I take my leather bound volums from the bookself and sit us down. I take a deep breath and Nathaniel amused by all of it.

“I’m about to tell you something that is going to be very hard to believe. It’s the reason I’ve waited so long to tell you I guess.” A moment of panic flashed behind his eyes and I grip his hands in reassurance. “It’s nothing bad don’t worry. You’ll either believe me when I’m done or think I’m crazy.”

He regains his amused expression. I stare as I hold onto his hands.

“Ever wondered what happened to make me change into the me I am today? You knew me as a jerk first and then later when we met again I wasn’t the same man.” I opened the first volume and I start to tell my story, or stories to be accurate, one-hundred-and-seventy-one of them to exact.

He’s the reason my life was thrown upside down and turned inside out. As the years have gone by I’ve met more and more of my old awakee’s. Almost every one of them is connected to us in some way or other. Even Bruce.

It all centers on Nathaniel.

As baby, boy, teenager, man and now husband.

This man is my world. So I tell him everything.



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A. Sonky

by Sonky

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