by Thomas Hay
I would like a favor in return, I told him, when he returned.
What favor would that be? He asked.
Can you find out what happened to my second wife, Fiza? She disappeared a couple months ago.
I had no idea if he could achieve such a feat, but I was compelled to ask, considering all of the advanced technology he had at his disposal.
Give me her full name, date of birth, and the date, location, and approximate time she disappeared, he said.
I provided him the information.
I will return in a few minutes, he said.
That had to be the longest few minutes of my life.
Do I really want to know? I kept asking myself.
I am sorry to have sad news for you. Are you sure you want this information, Monroe said, upon his return.
Yes, I need to know.
She was taken back to Saudi Arabia by her stepbrothers and put into a Bedouin tribe.
I had suspected that.
She was sold into slavery and used to entertain visiting male tribe members. She committed suicide two weeks ago,(in your time frame) through the bite of a king cobra. Suicide was the only escape that would keep you and your children safe. I am so sorry, Tom. She basically sacrificed her life for your sake.
A river of emotions flowed through my heart and soul. I started bawling like a baby.
Why can’t you go back in time and abduct her just before she dies? I cried.
Unfortunately, Tom, it does not work that way, Monroe replied. Her disappearance would disrupt the time quantum.
Perhaps you could clone her and have the clone take her place, I pleaded.
We cannot ask a clone to take the place of someone who dies before their time. I am sorry, but you must face the fact that she is gone. If you wish, I can instill a memory block to erase her memory from your mind.
No, I said. I want to remember her, always.
I do not intend to rush you, but I require your decision soon. Perhaps there is someone else you should talk to, Monroe said, as he reached to open the door. She might be able to help you make up your mind.
Was Monroe throwing another monkey wrench into the equation? Now who could this person possibly be?
The door opened and in walked—You’ll never guess who? Golly! Surprise, surprise, surprise. Not even Gomer Pyle could have said it any better.
In walked... Claudia, my first wife, the one who went rogue and started this whole shebang in the first place. I bet the look on my face would have stopped my granddaddy’s clock.
I could perceive a major meltdown coming, with all the different emotions swarming through me. First I was shocked, and then came hurt, followed by anger, anxiety, and last but not least confusion.
You can have a few minutes alone to talk, Monroe said, as he departed the room.
“Hello Tom. I hope you now realize everything we went through wasn’t my fault,” were the first words out of Claudia’s mouth.
“I had already made my decision a long time ago. My clone, CJ, replaced me right after our son was born. It was she who discovered how to melt her mind block and became confused and divorced you, not me.”
“You don’t say,” was all I could muster. The cat had my tongue again. Everything seemed to be happening in s-l-o-w motion.
“Legally, we are still married, though in this future society there are no marriages. Still, we can have a friends-with-benefits relationship and help preserve the human race. That is our primary purpose now, to reproduce. I am currently three months with child. What say you?”
“Whatever.” What else was there to say?
This better not be another dream. I was about dreamed out. Bet you are too.
It was going to take a while to comprehend all this. The human mind was limited in capacity and this one was getting stretched to the limit.
“I realize you must be shocked to see me,” Claudia said.
“I have been there and know the feeling. But Monroe will need a decision soon,” she reminded me.
Needless to say, by this point I was a little perplexed. My intellectual capacity had been maxed out. I felt like I was either in the Twilight Zone or stumbled into the Outer Limits. The picture was getting fuzzy and out of alignment. Please standby. The Kid requires a quick adjustment.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
The Surrogate
ROCKET MAN
And I think it’s gonna be a long long time, till touchdown brings me round again to find I’m not the man they think I am at home. Oh no no no. I’m a rocket man.—Elton John
Well comrades, you should know Tom well enough by now to know his decision. He had a love for adventure and this would be the adventure of his lifetime! How could he have refused?
So, behold, it was I, Tom-Tom, Tom’s clone, who got a memory block and was sent back to 1978 to continue Tom’s legacy.
So far as the world knows, the visit from NASA never happened. There might have been a new kid in town, but no one, including me, knew the difference. No one—not Tom’s parents, his sisters, his brother Mike, his children, or his friends—had the slightest suspicion.
I am no different from Tom. All of his memories and experiences were programmed into me. We now share the same appearance, memories, personality, age, and health. We are more than twins; we are the same.
I would, however, spend the next several years gallivanting around, searching for an identity and a purpose. I was a restless spirit on an endless flight. I sought fame and fortune; seeking that heart of gold. It took several more relationships, two more marriages, and a few more heartbreaks, heartaches, and comebacks before I finally got my feet on solid ground.
CJ, after discovering she was a clone, had trouble accepting her reality. She eventually sent the children to live with me. Even though she suspected, she was not yet certain that I was also a clone.
The next few years were difficult, as I tried to adapt to being a parent. Learning parenthood right when your children turn into teenage monsters was demanding. There were a few times I just wanted to run away. Somehow, we survived.
Then I finally met my heart of gold and the ‘love of my life’, Karen. We fell in a sensible love. The way you fall asleep: slowly, but surely.
Now I am getting to the final curtain. I have discovered that aging doesn’t take a special ability or talent. No one ever gets to practice it; it just sneaks up on you. It’s gotten hard to recognize the old fart who makes those funny faces and stares back at me in the mirror. What happened to that perfect age when you’re old enough to know better and too young to care? Gone, but not forgotten.
If you read my original memoirs, then you might have thought you knew me. But you didn’t, because I didn’t, at the time. If you haven’t read my original memoirs, you might find them interesting. The memory blocks kept me from seeing the hidden revelations. But, thanks to CJ, I eventually learned how to melt them and discovered my distinctiveness.
It took writing my memoirs before I suspected a thing. Once I adopted CJ’s ascetic lifestyle, a whole new world revealed itself. Never in my wildest dreams would I have suspected myself to be a clone from the future. Our creators hadn’t figured that we would learn to melt our memory blocks. CJ outwitted them.
We needn’t be concerned that the abductors or the government may discover that some of us now know the truth. I would suspect they already know. They aren’t concerned because they know that everyone will just think us to be crazy UFO wackos. It could be that the definition of “wacko” will have to be redefined someday. But until then, at least there are a few of us who know the truth and know who we really are.
That being said, it raises another interesting question. Do clones have a soul? I do know right from wrong. I have all human traits, but does that make me human since I came from a test tube instead of the womb? I suppose I won’t know the answer to that question until I meet the Man at the pearly gate.
I have heard there could be as many as three million abductees in America. There is
no telling how many more are spread around the globe. Of course not all have been cloned. But I don’t know that for a fact.
I can identify at least one of you besides CJ, but I won’t reveal who this is, as you have yet to discover it yourself. I warned you in the beginning that my story could change your life and that you might never be the same.
If you have the slightest inclination that you may have been abducted and cloned, then you now know how to find out for sure. Become a vegetarian, fast and abstain from sex and see if you have any memory blocks that melt. It may take awhile, but if you have instilled memory blocks, they will eventually melt and you will discover who you really are. It will take some courage to make the necessary sacrifices, but the results should answer your questions once and for all.
Only a few will be willing to put it on the line. I suspect there will be many who really don’t want to know. I can’t really blame you for wanting to stay tucked in your comfortable and secure little world. It will be interesting to find out who the brave ones will be.
So you now know, it is I, Tom-Tom who wrote both the original memoir and this revised edition. Tom has been absent from this timeline since 1978. I wouldn’t worry about him, though. I have been having some pretty exotic dreams lately. Those dreams indicate that he is gallivanting around in the future, footloose and fancy-free, on a quest to save the human race from extinction and help them to revert back to our present-day appearance. Perhaps someday the abductors will not be mistaken for aliens anymore.
In the meantime, if you should someday happen to see a UFO, the least you could do is wave. After all, its occupants could be some of your kinfolk, y’know. :)
EPILOGUE
I would bet some of you are having some serious doubts about my sanity. You’re probably wondering if I am hallucinating, have lost my marbles, smoking weed, or have a fertile imagination that went wild? If it were imagination, where did it come from? Could my imaginations come from blocked memories buried within my subconscious. If that is so, then my imagination is my reality.
Who is to say? Certainly not those of you who refuse to make the necessary sacrifice to find out who you might really be. Hopefully, I have offered some food for thought for some. But who among you is hungry? Those of you who may have tried my advice, only to find you were left hungry and horny, will be the biggest doubters.
My intention all along was not to convince you one way or the other. It was to give you a story that would entertain, mystify, startle, and hopefully tickle your intuition.
As Albert Einstein wrote:
The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom this emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand rapt in awe, is as good as dead; his eyes are closed and he is a stranger unto himself.
Will there be a sequel? I reckon that depends on Tom. Will he want to divulge how he is saving the human race? I suppose we will just have to wait and see if the Comeback Kid is up for another comeback. Live long and prosperous my human and clone friends. LOL
THE END...?
NOTE: If you enjoyed this story, you might like my original memoir, The Comeback Kid: The Memoirs of Thomas L. Hay. It is available everywhere books are sold, including amzn.to/1bWV44N, www.barnesandnoble.com, or Smashwords: bit.ly/17yuf3G.
Stop by and have a chat on Twitter: @thomaslhay, Facebook: on.fb.me/13TdA6k, or my website: www.thomaslhay.com
I would really appreciate if you would also give me an honest book review on Amazon or my website. Thank You.
IDIOMS
Idioms, to make a long story short, are actually nonsense, yet hit the nail on the head. We know what these phrases mean; we all use them. But where do these funny and nonsensical statements come from? Since when can you know the ropes, knock on wood, or wag the dog?
An idiom generally is an expression different from its literal meaning. Often, only people in a particular region or class understand it. Some first appeared in the Bible or were penned by Shakespeare. Today, with the proliferation of mass media, they can spread thick and fast.
Those foreigners or folks from the future are surely scratching their heads. Most of the idiom’s I used in this story confused Monroe as he tried to comprehend what it was I had said. If you're like me, you may have started to wonder just where they came from.
To help you understand, I composed a list of most of the idioms I used. You might find their meaning and origin interesting.
NOTE: Even with the Internet, it was impossible to learn the origins of some of these idioms. Some of the stories of origin that I did find are simply that: stories. Although the intricate stories can sound plausible, often a simple explanation is the real answer. That’s how extraordinary and confusing the English language can be. So, on that note, let’s:
GIVE IT A SHOT OR GIVE IT YOUR BEST SHOT
Meaning: To give it a try, to endeavor.
Origin: Unclear. It might have a military origin. The term “best shot” came from a sixteenth-century shooter who could hit enemies or targets most accurately. It became a common phase in the twentieth century.
STOP AND SMELL THE ROSES
Meaning: To pause. Take time to appreciate.
Origin: Most think it became popular after Ringo Starr’s song in 1981.
SMACK DAB
Meaning: In essence, it means “slapped precisely in the center.”
Origin: First used in 1892. Smack is a transitive verb meaning to strike sharply and with a loud noise. Dab is a chiefly British word meaning clever or skilled. Put the two together and you have an idiom.
CLOUD NINE
Meaning: A state of elation/happiness.
Origin: This term originated with the U.S. Weather Bureau in the 1950s, and denotes the fluffy cumulonimbus clouds that people find attractive. Why the number ‘9’ is unclear.
BRAND SPANKING NEW
Meaning: A new or unused object.
Origin: From doctors spanking newborn babies to make them cry so that they will start breathing.
SPILL THE BEANS
Meaning: To divulge a secret, especially to do so inadvertently or maliciously.
Origin: There is the word “spill,” meaning divulge, but why beans? It could have come from almost anything. One theory: The origin of this expression is sometimes said to be an ancient Greek voting system. The story goes that white beans indicated positive votes and black beans negative votes. Votes had to be unanimous, so if the collector “spilled the beans” before the vote was counted, the vote was halted.
WHAT IN SAM HILL
Meaning: This is a euphemism, an inoffensive expression used to substitute for terms or words that might offend.
Origin: Who is Sam Hill anyway? Some say he was a proponent of the Pacific Highway, the railroad built to reach the West in the 1800s. Those who knew him thought him to be crazy. Anyway, if he could have a nickel for every time someone has used his name, he would have a wealthy estate.
GRASPING AT STRAWS
Meaning: A desperate attempt.
Origin: This term comes from the fact that a drowning person will grab at anything, including a straw, to keep from drowning.
PUT A BUG IN YOUR EAR
Meaning: A reminder, a hint, or suggestion relating to a future event.
Origin: Presumably likens the buzzing of an insect to a hint, although the exact analogy is unclear.
BETWEEN A ROCK AND A HARD PLACE
Meaning: Stuck between two bad options.
Origin: In 1917, mine workers in Bisbee, Arizona were faced with a choice between harsh and underpaid work at the rock-face part of the mine or face unemployment and poverty. Darn if you do, and darn if you don’t.
PULLING YOUR LEG
Meaning: Fooling about something. A joke being played.
Origin: No one seems to know. One speculation is that it might originated from the fact that during the old days in England when people were hung and left to swing in the wind, poor chi
ldren would pull the hanged person by his or her leg in order to dislodge valuables from his or her pockets. Adults would tell the children to leave them alone and not to pull one's leg. Another theory has it that friends and relatives would often try to end the suffering of the hanged by pulling their legs in hopes of breaking their neck.
NEST EGG
Meaning: Savings set aside for later use.
Origin: The allusion is to putting a real or china egg onto a hen’s nest to encourage the hen to lay. The connection between this and the idea of savings isn’t exactly clear. It may be that the idea was that the egg that was put into the nest could be retrieved and used again after the hen had laid.
BITE OFF MORE THAN YOU CAN CHEW
Meaning: Taking on a task that is too great to complete.
Origin: Watching children stuff their mouths too full, causing difficulty in swallowing. Also slang referring to the use of plug tobacco.
THE WHOLE NINE YARDS
Meaning: The whole way or measure.
Origin: This is another one whose origin no one knows for sure. One theory is it had to do with eighteenth-century women’s gloves that went up to their elbows. They wore them when attending an important event, such as a ball or tea at the palace. The gloves had nine buttons.
NITTY GRITTY
Meaning: The specific or practical details, getting to the heart of the matter.
Origin: The origin of this idiom is somewhat unpleasant and a little unexpected. If you can stomach it, read on. It seems to derive from nits (small lice) found in unclean pubic hair plus the tiny, gritty pieces of dried feces found in unwashed anal hair. In America, the term was popularized by black militants in the Civil Rights movement.
JOSHING
Meaning: Kidding, fooling someone.
Origin: If you think I’m a character, wait until you read about this guy. Josh Tatum was a deaf mute, but a very enterprising man. In 1883 the U.S. mint came out with a new nickel. It was deemed the Liberty Nickel and on the reverse side it had a large Roman numeral V stamped on it. Josh noticed this and the fact that it was nearly the same size as the U.S. $5 gold piece. With the help of a friend familiar with gold electroplating base metal, they turned these coins into a fortune.
