It seemed entirely possible that Lovelle had caused even more deaths by his actions than he had saved. At the very least, he certainly had traded the lives of one group of people for those of others. All of the many families that he had spared from terrible suffering two years earlier had been traded for a whole new set of families. He could hardly stand the guilt. He tried to tell himself that an attack like this might well have occurred sometime in the future even if he had let the 9/11 attack go forward. There was certainly no way he could ever know that. And even if Lovelle chose to believe this, he still couldn’t help feeling like he had been playing God. He had unwittingly chosen who was to die and who was to live. Of course, his intentions were good. Heck, he had nothing but the best of intentions. But there is that old saying, “The road to hell is paved with good intentions”.
Lovelle could not help believing that, had he only given the necessary time and consideration to what he was doing, he certainly could have foreseen something on this order. He was wrong. Very early on he had considered the effect his actions would have on future law enforcement activities. That had been why he had abandoned his plan to forestall the attacks with bomb threat on the airports. He had expressed concerns to Agent Rosewood about how his efforts would affect government counter terrorism activities. He had been worried that not having the arousal of the public would hamstring those activities as well. It was not a lack of foresight that had caused this. If anything, it was poor planning and poor execution.
In hindsight, Lovelle was sure he should have taken different actions. He should never have gone to Germany. He should have known better than to think he could play spy in a foreign country and go undetected. And there was no good reason why he couldn’t wait for Atta to come to America before looking for him. He had been foolishly full of himself. He suffered from delusions of grandeur. He was sure he could have gone ahead with his plan to foil the plot with only a few days to spare. Whether he had filled in any of the gaps in his knowledge or not, he certainly could have gotten action with his Felix the CAT persona. He had acted prudently when he set up that identity, then had almost thrown away the capital that the move had earned him. If he had waited, he could have stopped the attack without giving the FBI the impression that they had succeeded themselves in any way whatsoever. Even if he had been less than completely successful, then at least the public outcry would still have followed. In either case, it seemed to Lovelle that the outcome would have been better than the one he had created. And, he could not help blaming himself for not realizing that fact.
This put him again into a funk which he could not explain to his wife. Trina had seen him go through some pretty strange times. She had been patient with him, allowing him his privacy in the past. But, this was worse than ever, and Lovelle was no longer just her friend. He was her husband, and the father of her precious daughter. She no longer felt like he had the right to keep things like this from her. She was right, of course. But he was helpless to do anything about that. He could no more explain himself now, than at any time in the past.
Experience had taught him that, while little white lies were relatively simple to carry off, big lies were next to impossible to maintain in the face of even a little persistent scrutiny. Each question would invariably lead to another lie. That sort of elaboration of the story would turn it into a house of cards. Lie upon lie just waiting for a little misstep. Invariably you would either be found out, or be so entangled in your falsification as to be worse off than telling the truth in the first place.
Lovelle knew this not only by observation, but by firsthand experience. Once, in his first life, he had maintained a relationship in just that sort of fashion. He had started off with a simple face saving lie, and ended up with a relationship premised on the girl’s belief that Lovelle was someone that he was not. Based on the constant expansion of that little ‘innocent’ lie, her perception of him had developed, and Lovelle had found himself powerless to set her straight without exposing his deception. He had learned the hard way that, despite any belief to the contrary, no deception of one’s significant other can simply fade away. There seem to always be instances where a further lie is required to support the original one, and unless you’re ready to come clean, you will only dig your hole deeper. As your loved one relies on their belief in the first lie, they inevitably take you at your word and ask you a question, or make some request of you based upon that reliance. As Presidents Nixon and Clinton had found out the hard way, it is not the crime that does you in, but, the cover up.
That was why Lovelle so often decided that a stonewall maneuver was the only acceptable option, even as poor of an option as it was. When Trina inquired about his melancholy he stuck to the simple and obvious lie: “I’m alright.” Then he tried to seem that way. He put on his brave face and went about his business without any vocal complaint. This worked for a couple of days before she confronted him once more.
“I know you don’t want to talk to me about it, but, I can tell you’re depressed about something.”
“I’m fine,” He lied emphatically.
“No you’re not!” She raised her voice at him, which was very rare, “Don’t lie to me. If you lie to me, I’m going to assume the worst.”
Of course, Lovelle knew that already. He just didn’t know what to do about it. “Love, there’s nothing to worry about.” He answered without a great deal of conviction.
Unconvinced, Trina pressed, “I’ve seen you like this before. Back then, it kept us from being together. So don’t tell me I don’t have a right to worry.”
“I didn’t say you don’t have the right to worry. I said you don’t need to. There is nothing going on that could ever threaten our family. I promise you that.” This was tantamount to an admission that there was something bothering him, but, Lovelle was hoping that she would take his assurance and then let him get through his depression on his own.
She didn’t leave it there. “Then why can’t you just tell me what’s bothering you? I don’t understand why you have this need to face everything on your own. Isn’t sharing your troubles part of being married? Why are you shutting me out?”
“It’s not that I want to shut you out. I just can’t talk to anyone about it. Not even you.” He told her half of the truth. “It has to do with the project I was working on before I moved back to Detroit. I told you then that I couldn’t tell you more, and that holds true today.”
“Does it have something to do with the terrorist attacks?” She continued to press him.
“I’m sorry, but, I can’t say.”
This was where he put up the wall. She could ask all she wanted, but, he would say no more. She could, and seemingly did, surmise that he was upset by the attacks, but she would never know why. That minimized any lying he would have to do.
*****
Lovelle was sure that he would eventually get over his depression. He really had a wonderful life now. Trina and Jessica were as precious to him as Katie and Kyle were. He knew he was exceptionally fortunate to have a second family which was as wonderful as the one he had lost. He never could have believed that sort of lightening could have struck twice for him. But, he would never get the chance to get back to normal.
As the anniversary of his time shift approached Lovelle had nearly forgotten it. It was only a few weeks after the terrorist strike, and he was preoccupied. Then one day it came to mind that he was approaching the date. He wasn’t sure if he actually knew the exact date, but, he was pretty sure it was on a Monday. That would put it on the 27th. Despite everything, he decided that he would like to celebrate the first day in 18 years that he had not already lived through. He wanted to go out and have a good time with his wife and daughter.
Lovelle went to bed that night with a sense of calm. He lay awake a long time, reflecting on everything he had done over his 52 years. He thought about things that he had consciously set aside over the past two years. He thought about the good and the bad, but, without the pervasive sense of regret tha
t had been plaguing him. He was serenely aware that it was in the past now. Whatever the results, Lovelle could honestly say that he had worked hard to do the right thing. He had made mistakes, but, they were just that, mistakes. He knew that he would have forgiven anyone else for those mistakes, and he would have to forgive himself for them.
Of course, if he had it to do over again, he now knew that he would do it differently. He knew that you could never replicate a life, regardless of desire. He had failed miserably in that endeavor in this life. And yet, somehow, by some cosmic good fortune, he had created a good life for himself. His life was every bit as good as he had ever hoped it to be, even if it wasn’t how he had set out to make it. He actually drifted off to sleep in utter contentment.
LIFE THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
“Son of a Bitch!” Lovelle shouted, waking up in his parents house once again. He was incredulous. Although he had expected some sort of upheaval for the longest time in his second life, he had long ago written off the idea that there was to be another cataclysmic change. For some time he had thought he might someday wake up and be back in his right time, or that maybe he would jump to some other random time in his life. Or that he simply might never wake up, that he would cease to exist altogether. But, for so many years everything proceeded like there had been no change. There had been no sign that the world had taken notice of his strange circumstances in any way. He had come to accept that this was his life, for better or worse.
His mother knocked on his door, “What’s going on?” He could hear the worry in her voice.
“Sorry,” he answered sheepishly, “I had a weird dream.”
“Are you alright?” she was obviously still concerned.
“Yeah, I’m fine Mom.” He stated matter-of-factly, as if her question were the ridiculous part of this exchange, and not his outburst.
Lovelle assessed his situation. From everything he could tell, he was in exactly the same place as before. This did not seem to be another random jump. Because of the surreal nature of his last pass through this time, his memory of it was amazingly vivid. He opened his closet and found everything to be as he remembered it. His favorite shirt was again hung to the far left of the closet, as if it had just been hung on the end of the row from the last load of laundry. Other things around the room were similarly familiar. He was quite sure he was at the same point in time.
Unsure of what else to do, he set about the business of living his sixteen year old life once again, going through the motions as he considered his situation one more time. For him, it was only a few hours earlier that he had evaluated his life rather thoroughly. Lovelle had even pondered the very question of whether he would do things differently if he were to once again face this scenario. It had been a rhetorical self question. He had not seriously considered this a possibility. He would never have chosen to redo his life, regardless of any errors he had made. Yet, here he was again, almost as if he had tempted fate and was being punished for it.
Lovelle had often wondered why this had happened at the beginning of his second life. But those musings had become less and less frequent over the years, until finally, he had stopped worrying at all about the why of it. Now, his confusion was compounded. What was it about these two points in time? What was it about him? Was there some unseen hand, turning back the clock for some as yet unknown purpose? Or was time like an old vinyl record? One with a flaw. A skip. Was this just going to keep happening until someone bumped the record player and got them past the skip? Who was to do the bumping? Was that his purpose? But, if so, what was he supposed to do? Was there some cosmic force that wanted him to resolve some situation? Was it the 9/11 attacks? Did his failure in that endeavor cause him to have to try again? Or was it something else he was supposed to do? Something more subtle. And how the hell was he to know?
Thinking about it only made him angry. Lovelle was not a spiritual man. But, if there was a God, and that God had a plan for him. Then Lovelle was ready to curse Him for not letting him see what purpose he was to serve.
Lovelle would spend a lot of time thinking about this. It seemed essential to decide whether he was to live this life in pursuit of some purpose, or if he were to live it for his own sake. And if he were to choose the latter, what would he want from life this time.
The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he couldn’t imagine going on with no other concern but his own happiness. Not that he somehow felt that it would be wrong to do so. If he could have managed it, Lovelle fully believed in his right to do so. He was no altruist, believing he had some duty to serve his fellow man with no expectation of return. But, the fact was, he couldn’t bear to create another beautiful life only to have it stripped from him one more time. Losing Katie and Kyle had been torture enough. Now he had lost Trina and Jessica as well. He couldn’t imagine adding to that legacy. He wasn’t that kind of masochist.
And yet, not pursuing a happy family only seemed to him to leave two options. He could pursue some sort of hedonistic pleasure seeking life, or he could lead the celibate life of a monk. But, that was simply not Lovelle either. He was a relationship kind of guy. He needed that closeness. If he had ever thought different, he had proven it to himself in all the years he wasted before finally accepting Trina as his partner.
In the end, he decided that he had to try to bump the record player. Whatever else he might try to do could only come to nothing as long as time kept skipping him back to his teens. Although he really had no idea what he should do, it seemed logical to him to try again to defeat Al Qaeda. Unless he somehow, in some unforeseen way, uncovered the secret to ending the cycle, all he could do was make an informed guess. Until he felt confident that he had defeated the terrorists, this was his best guess. If he could truly foil the terrorists, and yet the skip reoccurred, then, he would take a different tack.
So Lovelle had to decide how to go about it this time? He had thought a lot about where he had gone wrong. He had thought that if he had not gone to Germany, and had waited until the last minute to try and stop the attack, that he might have been able to prevent it, and yet still have raised the alarm in his country enough to prevent the later dirty bomb attacks. He could certainly go that route without much difficulty. The blueprint for that was fairly well laid out. From his association with Agent Rosewood he knew much more about the plot this time. He knew exactly what to do and who to call to stop the bombing of the Murrah building and establish credibility for his Felix the Concerned Anti Terrorist pseudonym.
What he didn’t know was how successful he might be in either area of the plan that he hadn’t tried before. Could he simply take that path and hope for success? He didn’t think so. He might have to resort to it. But, he would have to be more proactive than that. Only this time, it wouldn’t be as haphazardly as his last minute trip to Hamburg. He would be focused on it for a long time. The rest of his life would be secondary to this goal. There would be no more attempts to balance his love life and his mission. This time he knew that whatever life he built for himself would likely be stripped away unless he somehow stopped the time skip. He had only to formulate the plan.
*****
School, which had been easy in his second life, was a joke in his third. By his third time around he could have taught some of the classes himself. If he applied himself at all he could be a straight A student without much trouble. The last time he had avoided doing so because he was clinging to the hope of recreating the circumstances of his first life. This time he was specifically avoiding those circumstances. And being a star pupil could serve him well in his as yet unformed plans.
Along with his exemplary scholastic performance, Lovelle also made little or no effort to fit in. Instead of trying hard to mesh with his peers, he acted more or less as he saw fit. He was a 52 year old in a sixteen year old’s life, and he was no longer very concerned about social acceptance. Oh, he didn’t go out of his way to draw attention to his maturity. But, he didn’t run around purposely
acting immature either. He maintained a few relationships, but, on his terms. He was friends with Shane and Trina, which was easy because he knew them so well, and because they would tolerate his new maturity, even if they thought it a puzzling change in their friend. And this time he pursued a relationship with Charlene.
This time, when Trina informed him of Charlene’s interest, he responded enthusiastically. This time, he was determined to sabotage his future with both Trina and Katie. He had no stomach for that heartache, so he did what he could to keep Trina from developing her interest in him. He had never really known if her interest had truly stemmed from his rebuff of Charlene’s advances, but, he knew that Trina had never expressed that interest when he had dated Charlene in his first life. So this time he made sure Charlene was a part of his life.
But, in his first life, his fling with Charlene had been short lived. Lovelle could no longer remember what had caused them to separate, although he was relatively sure it was something stupid on his own part. She was a very nice girl, and quite affectionate. He found it easy to be with her this time. Maybe too easy. Even though he was no longer concerned with being faithful to some future wife, he still believed it wrong for him to be with someone so young. Not that they were about to consummate their relationship or anything. She wasn’t that type of girl. But, he felt a bit of shame doing anything with her, including a little kissing. But a little kissing was, of course, expected, and his body, had ideas of its own. She was willing, and she was attractive. More attractive to him now than ever. She did not possess the typical teenage look, and that more developed image appealed to his matured tastes. She had the appearance of a fully matured woman, minus any of the telltale signs of aging. What man would not find that appealing? But she was a teenager nonetheless, and he was determined to respect that.
Time Skip Page 19
