Tempus Genesis

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Tempus Genesis Page 17

by Michael McCourt


  “Oh my god you two,” Mary said pulling up from running with them, “I don’t believe how gullible you are.”

  Mary bent over holding her knees to catch her breath.

  “We all saw what we saw Mary,” Minnie said in his and Jamie’s defence.

  It was early, just after seven in the morning and they had been running for nearly an hour. They had taken their favourite route around Battersea Park, entering the park from Queenstown Road and running parallel with the Thames. They had passed the ornate Peace Pagoda and the now taken for granted view of Albert Bridge over the river. Following the park Carriageway drives anti-clockwise, north, west and then south, they had pulled up in front of the park lake.

  “Look Mary,” Jamie continued to try to resolve the argument that had been brewing for the last two kilometres, “Jenny’s reaction or fit was not any typical medical condition I would recognise. The pallor of her skin, how taut it was, the duration of the episode, the occasional static for Christ’s sake. This was not epilepsy Mary.”

  “No, maybe not,” she said, but by now Mary had had enough and was too angry to hold her self back she yelled at them both, “But it wasn’t fucking time travel either.”

  Mary straightened up, shook her head and pushed her hands back over her tied up hair. She looked at them both “Dicks,” she said and ran off.

  Jamie and Minnie looked at reach other, Minnie offered a ‘what?’ shrug, Jamie sighed.

  “She called you a dick,” Minnie said.

  “Dicks, plural, she called us both dicks,” Jamie retorted.

  “No, Mary wouldn’t speak to me like that, she likes me too much. I think it was like you’re a double dick Jamie, both for you kind of thing,” Minnie tried to add some light to the tension that had been building in the ten days since they last saw Oliver.

  “Yeah, right Minnie,” Jamie set off at a very slow paced jog, Minnie joined him. They ran towards the southerly exit of the park, towards the exit nearest Battersea Park rail station.

  “I just don’t think Oliver’s entirely lost it,” offered Minnie as they ran slowly together, “whether he is or isn’t right I think he genuinely believes he has witnessed full on regression. You know to almost time travel proportions. Sounds bonkers to me but who are we to question him trying to find out more? He’s always had this hypothesis eating at him.”

  “But Mary’s right the last time this happened he got ill, then he had that CarTalk idea thing last month. That made him wobble and he had only just been stabilising after nearly a year. But I agree with you, we saw what we saw and it was fucked up weird.”

  As they past the fourth bench from the exit they picked up to a sprint, out of habit and raced to the end of the park.

  Upon leaving the park, they saw Mary outside the station kiosk, across the road from them. She was sipping a lucozade and under her arm had two more.

  On Battersea Park Road, after the station, but before the Latchmere pub, there were several attractive restaurants and cafes. Aunty Roisin’s was the favoured café of Oliver and his friends. Inside the café the three friends, still in running gear, continued their argument. Mary’s Lucozade offering as some form of an apology hadn’t created peace in their time. Given how preposterous the content of the discussion was they argued in a whisper.

  “Look,” said Mary, “I’m not having a go at Jenny she seems perfectly nice.”

  “But she is manipulating Oliver you think?” challenged Jamie.

  “That’s too strong a way of putting it, but she has drawn him in,” Mary said.

  “He’s not drawn in,” Minnie joined in, “He is looking for anything that feeds into his ideas on these things.”

  “But time travel for gods sake Minnie, it’s not there, it’s just a wild idea and to be frank, I worry about Oliver, you know his,” Mary swirled a finger towards her temples.

  “Mind, mentally ill?” Jamie shook his head, “nice Mary, he is a bright guy, he has an eccentric idea, he meets someone he likes who is also a bit out there, he hooks up with her and they get carried away with the possibilities of what they might be discovering together, yes it is odd but mental, no.”

  Minnie leaned in to speak a little quieter, “Whatever we say or think to rationalize this, we saw Jenny in that state. Don’t forget that, a spindly woman, arched in some form of stasis, pale blue glowing eyeballs, fuck me if that’s just an idea.”

  “So you believe Oliver, you think Jenny has a gift a power like some time travelling super-heroine?” Mary hissed albeit a restrained one.

  “Now you’re being flippant Mary,” Minnie leaned back not prepared to be drawn by her sarcasm.

  Jamie leaned in and spoke quietly, providing further evidence for his adopted view on the subject, “I’ve spoken to Oliver every day nearly, he is rational, no pressure of speech, no flight of ideas, out there ideas but no alliteration, no psychosis. He is not mentally unwell. He genuinely wants to help Jenny and she clearly has some bizarre condition. Right or wrong he is desperate to speak to Dyer.”

  Mary tried to speak and Jamie blocked her with a gentle hand to continue, “I know, I know, everything around Dyers work and Oliver’s interest smells bad. But Oliver is not ill, nor a fool.”

  “But he’s disappeared from us, we haven’t seen him. How can we know he is not ill? And Dyer he had the reputation of a witch doctor I heard,” Mary said.

  “I don’t know about Dyer, Oliver thinks he was a misunderstood genius who had a fall from grace. Anyway Oliver isn’t ill I can tell from talking to him. And he has only disappeared down to Jenny’s so she can keep her business going, while they try to find Dyer,” Jamie explained.

  “But what are the chances of that? The fallen academic hasn’t registered on any radar for twenty years according to Oliver. Oliver could be searching for a ghost,” Minnie said.

  “I don’t know,” Jamie leaned back, “Jenny knows lots of psychic types and freaks in this field, if you can call it that. Oliver says they have made some interesting contacts. Met a few people, he believes Dyer is still alive and is starting to truly believe he can track him down.”

  “Okay, well we’ll see. I’ll help where I can, he’s still a top mate,” offered Minnie in support.

  “Mark my words,” Mary said having listened quietly to the exchange, “this is bad, was bad, still is bad, will be bad, and I know for certain, this will not go well, it isn’t just some fanciful dalliance with a kooky girl, Oliver is putting himself in harms way. I don’t know exactly how, but he is. And it will get ugly, very very ugly.”

  Mary sipped at her tea and chewed off a corner of her cold toast. Jamie sighed once more and run his fingers through his hair. Minnie picked up his last half a sausage and examined it, trying to get lost in the half burnt breakfast item, to escape from the tension at their table.

  16.

 

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