The Five Times I Met Myself

by James L. Rubart

  “It’s not that.” Beth waved her hand. “I feel almost like . . . do we know each other? We’ve met before this, yes?”

  Brock glanced at the house next door, the one he’d owned in his dreams, and debated what to say. No. Not time for crazy yet. “I don’t think so.”

  “No, I guess not. I just had the strangest sensation though.” She shook her head and beckoned him across the threshold. “But come in. Come in and tell me why you’re here. And you simply gotta tell me what you have in that big paper bag, ’cause I’m the curious sort and you wouldn’t have brought that bag unless you meant to show me what’s inside.”

  Brock smiled. This might turn out okay.

  Beth led him to her living room, and Brock set the bag next to his feet and pulled out ten different flavors of Black Fedora coffee. As he handed each of them to Beth, her eyes widened.

  “Are you serious?” Beth rubbed her hands together almost fast enough to start a fire. “I absolutely love Black Fedora coffee.”

  “I thought you might.” Brock clasped his hands together and leaned forward. Might as well dive in. “Do you believe in fate?”

  “Depends.”

  “I think we’re fated to be friends, Elizabeth.”

  She stared at him and a shard of . . . what? Brock couldn’t tell what flashed into Beth’s eyes. A shrouded memory? Recognition? It left too quickly, replaced by that megawatt smile.

  “No.” Beth protested with both hands. “You can’t call me Elizabeth. Or Lizzie. Or Liza. The only thing that will work for you is Beth.” The smile again. “Okay?”

  “Okay.” Brock let a grin take over his face. “Beth it is.”

  “Now, why don’t you explain who you are and why you’re really here. And explain how you knew my name before I gave it to you if we’ve never met.” She winked.

  “That is a story indeed.”

  “I love stories.”

  “Fiction or nonfiction?”

  “Oh boy, wind up the toys.” Beth laughed. “This is going to be a good one.”

  Brock glanced through Beth’s windows at two kayakers paddling past, then leaned forward, elbows on knees. “Let me just preface this by saying I’m not crazy, and—”

  “Wait a minute, grab the horses, give a yank backward.” Beth mimicked pulling back on invisible reins, then picked up a bag of the coffee Brock had just given her. “I know where I know you! You’re one of the owners of Black Fedora, right? You’re the guy who shows up in the TV ads from time to time.” She grinned and clapped her hands together over her head. “I gotta celeb in my house. This is so sweet.”

  “Me? No, no, no.” Brock waved his hands. “You’re the celebrity, not me.”

  “Because I write a few columns every now and then that people maybe enjoy? Hardly.” She laughed and it filled the room. “What a wonderful surprise. Someday I should write about your phenomenal coffee.”

  “That would be incredibly generous.”

  “Just a chance to tell the truth.” Beth winked. “Good to find out there’s a decent man behind the beans.”

  Silence settled on the room as if Beth was giving Brock an opening to say why he’d come. He took a slow breath in, let it out slower, then dove in.

  “This is going to sound a little nuts, Beth.” Brock rubbed his hands together. “A lot nuts.”

  “Oooo, yes. Wonderful. I love outlandish tales.”

  “This is so far past outlandish there’s no map.”

  “Oh my, now you really have my attention.” She leaned forward and winked again. “What? Did we know each other in another life?” She laughed.

  Again, Brock hesitated for a moment before diving into the deep end. “Yes. That’s exactly right.”

  When he finished telling his story of the month, and what she had meant to him, Beth’s expression flitted back and forth from one that said Brock was certifiable and she was about to leap for the phone and dial 911, to one that said she would choose to believe every word.

  “Just so I’m clear. We’re not on camera. This isn’t going up on the Internet or anything like that, right?”

  “No.”

  “Well then.” Beth clapped her hands together and shifted on her couch.

  “Still interested in being friends?”

  “I have plenty of friends who are crazy, so you’ll fit right in.” She raised a flat palm over her head. “But I will say you are now the Mt. Everest of my loony pals. So I might need to call you Sir Edmund.”

  “Hillary?”

  “Precisely. You say I was your great counselor, your own personal Yoda.”

  “But much more beautiful.” Brock nodded. “You changed my life.”

  Silence filled the room again.

  “So what do you do now with the fact nothing in your life has changed?” She leaned forward as her face grew as serious as he’d ever seen. “The fact you’re stuck with all the same problems you had when your dreams began? The fact that what happened to you was only in your head?”

  “I was hoping you could tell me. Where to go from here. Show me how to figure this out.”

  “What about talking to this doctor friend of yours?”

  “A good man, but he’s more about the head, and right now I need someone who is more about the heart. And nowhere more than when it comes to Karissa. I need someone with heart to show me how to win her back. Life without her . . .” Brock pulled in a breath and held it for a time before releasing the air.

  “I can’t show you anything, Brock.” Beth leaned back on her couch. “All I can do is guide you toward what you already know. Then pray your eyes will open wide enough to see what you already know to be true.”

  “Then what do I already know?”

  “You’re much wiser than this.” She shook her head and gave a thin smile.

  He asked again, fervor growing in his voice. “What do I already know?”

  Brock waited for her to answer, but she stared at him, the slight smile still on her face, and he thought she wouldn’t respond no matter how long he waited. But finally she did.

  “Let me ask you once more, Brock, my precious new friend.” Beth tapped her forefingers together. “How do you deal with the fact none of what happened to you was real?”

  “It was real.” Brock blinked as the realization swept over him.

  “Yes. I think it was.”

  “It doesn’t matter that it didn’t happen in the physical world.”

  “No, it does not.”

  “It doesn’t matter because I’m not the same man.”

  “No, I don’t believe you are.”

  Brock stood and a smile grew on his face that turned into laughter. “I shouldn’t feel this way.”

  “Why?”

  “Because nothing has changed.”

  “And yet everything has changed.” Beth’s smile matched his own. “Now go after her.”

  Brock tried Karissa three times before reaching the Evergreen Point Floating Bridge, and three times the call went to voice mail. No matter. He’d be at his sister-in-law’s house in fifteen minutes. Plenty of time to make two phone calls at the top of his priority list. Brock prayed and dialed the first number.

  “Hello?”

  “Ron, it’s Brock.”

  “Yeah, I figured that one out.”

  “How are you?”

  “Peachy. You?”

  “I’ve never been better in my entire life.” He glanced at the sailboats harnessing the wind on Lake Washington.

  “Really.” Ron’s voice was flat, but he followed up with the requisite question. “Why’s that?”

  “I want to tell you all about it, but on one condition.”

  “Okay.”

  “We do it tomorrow morning on the golf course.”

  Ron went silent for a solid five seconds. His voice was a millimeter warmer when he spoke again. “You’re kidding.”

  “No.”

  “What are you doing, Brock?” Ron’s sigh filled Brock’s phone. “Your plan to go back and tal
k to your younger self and fix things didn’t work? So you’re going to try to soften me up to give you more time before I sign?”

  “No. No agenda. Just two brothers out on the course together. No company talk. I promise.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Yes.” Brook reached the end of the bridge and crossed into Bellevue.

  Ron went quiet for so long Brock almost broke the silence. But then Ron spoke.

  “You found something, didn’t you?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Truly.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yes,” Brock said.

  “You know who hacked into our accounts.”

  “There’s someone probably worth checking into.”

  Again silence from his brother.

  “All right,” Ron finally said. Then so softly Brock wasn’t sure his brother spoke the words. “Eighteen together. That’d be okay.”

  “And, bro?”

  “What?”

  Brock nodded to himself before speaking. He needed to say this. “Do you remember our favorite toy from when we were kids?”

  Ron didn’t answer for a good ten seconds. When he did, his voice was half its normal volume. “Captain Action, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  Again, a long pause before Ron spoke. “What about it?”

  “We need to talk about the Code. I need to ask you to forgive me. And I need to tell you a story that will blow your mind.”

  As he hung up, Brock glanced at his watch. Twelve minutes till he would stand in front of Karissa and give his confession. Plenty of time to make one more very important call.

  Chapter 55

  Brock dialed Sheila’s number and prayed she’d pick up. What he wanted to say wasn’t the kind of thing to leave in a message.

  Three rings and no answer. C’mon. She picked up on the fourth. Relief. And nerves. But this was right.

  “Hello?”

  “Sheila? It’s Brock.” He hesitated then added, “Matthews.”

  She laughed. “I don’t need the last name. I don’t even need the first.”

  “How are you?”

  She was silent for a few seconds. “Before you say anything, I have to apologize. I never should have sent that e-mail. I’m so sorry, it’s just that—”

  “I found the note.”

  “What?”

  “The note,” Brock said. “The one you probably wondered if I’d ever find. I went into my attic the other day and found the lion and unicorn drawing. For some reason I turned it over and discovered what you wrote under the paper on the back.”

  “Oh wow.”

  “Yeah.”

  He listened to the hum of the phone as he struggled to get his next words right. “Sheila? You’ll always have a piece of my heart.” He paused. “That’s a good thing. A wonderful thing. We were great together and brought each other so much joy. That will never be taken away. And that’s not just a good thing, but a very good thing.”

  A nervous laugh came through the phone.

  “You okay?” Brock said.

  “More than okay.” Through the phone he heard her draw a deep breath. “I needed to hear that. Really needed to. Thank you.”

  “Good-bye, Sheila.”

  “I’ll miss you, Brock.”

  “Me too.”

  Two minutes later, Brock pulled into his sister-in-law’s driveway and for a few moments watched her neighbor prune her trees. He needed to do the same for his yard. Maybe in a few days. He had a plan for tomorrow. If a miracle happened and Karissa would agree to go along with it.

  Karissa’s sister turned when he opened his car door. “Hey, Brock.”

  “Is she here?”

  “She’s out back. Come on in.”

  “Thanks.” Brock hesitated.

  Karissa’s sister cocked her head. “You okay?”

  “No. But that’s exactly why I’m here.”

  Brock shot up a silent prayer as he moved through the house to the sliding glass door at the back. He hesitated for a moment, then slid it open and stepped onto the patio. Karissa sat cross-legged in a lawn chair gazing straight ahead. If she’d heard him, she didn’t give any indication.

  “Karissa?”

  She didn’t answer.

  He eased over to Karissa and sat in the chair beside her.

  “Hey.”

  Again, no answer.

  He gazed at her profile, more in love than he’d ever been. “I never saw you. Not like I should have. But I see you now.”

  “Okay.” She continued to stare straight ahead.

  Brock sat next to her for a few moments in silence. Then, “It’s true. Deeper than you can imagine.”

  “No, Brock.”

  “And I don’t tell you often enough how stunning you are.”

  “I said, don’t.” Karissa pulled her arms across her chest. “I need a month, a few weeks at least to figure some things out.”

  “You truly stagger me. So beautiful. Inside. Outside. All of you. Such a treasure.”

  “I said—”

  “I need to ask for a crazy favor but I swear it’ll be the last one I ask for till you tell me I can again. After this, I won’t call, I won’t come over here. Nothing till you’re ready.”

  “What’s the favor?” She moved her head farther away from him.

  “I want to take you somewhere for the day tomorrow. And I want to tell you the most amazing story you’ve ever heard.”

  “Where?”

  “To a place where we can start over. From the beginning.”

  “What are you talking about? The beginning of what?”

  “Us.” Brock leaned toward her, just a few inches. “Tomorrow morning I want us to go to the Birch Bay Waterslides.”

  “That is crazy.” Karissa shot him a weary glance. “You want to go water sliding? Are you kidding? They’re probably not even open yet.”

  Brock raised both hands. “I’m not suggesting we get anywhere near the water. I just want to stand in the spot in that parking lot where I first met you and I knew you were my density.”

  The hint of a smile played on the corner of Karissa’s mouth. “That density which brought me to you.” The smile faded.

  Brock slid his hands on top of hers. “I’m not the same man.”

  “So you say.” She pulled her hands out of his.

  “No. I’m not going to tell you about it. I’m going to show you every day for the rest of our lives together. And the slides are where I want to start.”

  “I don’t know.” Karissa sighed. “I’d need time to think about it.”

  “For as long as you like.”

  “I tell you what.” She looked at him longer than a few seconds for the first time since he’d sat down. “I’ll let you know in the morning about going to the slides. But don’t get your hopes up. Even a little.”

  That night they slept twenty-three miles apart, which was a good thing because the moment Brock went to sleep, he slipped into a dream he wouldn’t want interrupted.

  Chapter 56

  JUNE 12, 2001

  Hello, Future Me. It’s great to see you.”

  Brock found himself staring at the younger version of himself sitting five yards away in a canvas chair in the center of Farrel-McWhirter Park in Redmond. Sunshine. Slight breeze with the hint of autumn in it. Perfect day. But something was . . . different. Was it . . . there, that was it.

  “You’re older.” He grinned at not-so-young-anymore Brock and took a few steps forward.

  “Yeah, it’s been a few years since you came back to see me.” Young Brock smiled and patted his chest. “Still looking pretty decent for thirty-nine though. Don’t you think?”

  “You look great.”

  “So do you. I see it. First time I’ve seen that kind of peace on your face.”

  His younger self motioned to the empty chair next to him. Brock ambled over to him and sat.

  “What happened to my future?”

  “Surrender. Full surrender. Great freedom. Grea
t joy. And much more.”

  “I’d love to hear all about it.”

  Brock told his younger self everything that had happened since they first met right up till he entered this dream. Young Brock nodded his head throughout the story, his eyes bright. When Brock finished, his younger self cocked his head, a look of contemplation on his face.

  “So was any of it real?”

  “All of it was more real than anything in my life has ever been.”

  “Yet nothing has changed. You’ve gone back to where you started.”

  “No.” Brock smiled and shook his head. “Everything’s changed. Everything. Because I’ve changed. I’m not the man I was. I’m the man I see has already come alive in you. I’m discovering my true self and no longer living out of the lies about who I thought I was. The one who gets his validation from what he does is dying. The one who gets his validation from who he is, from who God sees he is—that’s the man who is alive now.”

  “And Karissa? Will she love you again?”

  “I don’t know. But it doesn’t matter.”

  “How can it not matter?”

  “It is truly an amazing thing to fully surrender to the living God. To completely give yourself over to the Spirit living inside you. Maybe that’s what dying to self means. Where you’re not worried about being loved, but how well you can love another.”

  “And you’re ready to do that for Karissa as long as you live.”

  “I’m ready to do it at least for today. And I’m not going to worry about the day after that till it gets here. Jesus said each day has enough worries to deal with. I agree. I’m going to live in the now.”

  “Explain that.”

  “Our choices lead us to life or lead us to death, and as I now vividly know, what we do in our present certainly affects what we become in the future. But in the end, there is only now, only this moment in which to live. The future does not exist. So I will live now. The past is gone and cannot be retrieved, so I will live now. There is only the present. So I will live in this moment.”

  His younger self nodded, closed his eyes, and seemed to be soaking the power of the sun into his whole being. “I have a hope for you, deep down where hope cannot be thwarted. A hope that your future will be blindingly bright, that the sails will unfurl and the wind will dance in hard from the south.”