Between Two Minds: Revelation

by D C Wright-Hammer

  Choked up, Bob proceeded. “You remind me of my son. That’s all.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, he spent a lot of time in this garage. After high school, he got accepted to Tesla’s School for the Gifted.”

  No one had really confided in me since I took the job, so my mood immediately improved while listening to Bob. “Wow. How’s he doing?”

  Bob shrugged. “Beats me. He dropped out after a semester. That’s when we had a falling out. I haven’t heard from him in a couple years.”

  I frowned. “Couple years? That’s too bad, Bob.”

  “It is. The son of a bitch got himself hooked on VR, and he stopped spending time in the real world.” He shook his head. “He had so much damn potential, too.”

  “Really sorry to hear that.”

  He gathered himself and sighed. “Yeah. I’d see how he’s doing, but it’s never been my style to kick up dust where I’m not wanted.”

  It was at that moment that something inside of me snapped. While I enjoyed the conversation, I was only casually taking part, staying at arm’s length to keep my secrets. But with my family history, it was unacceptable that something as trivial as Bob’s style would keep him and his son apart.

  I slammed my locker shut and blurted out. “Wait?! You’re letting pride get in the way of being with your kid?”

  Confusion came over Bob. “Well, now, just hold on a minute.”

  “Come on, Bob!” I shook my head. “Don’t you know how kids work? He might’ve pissed you off, but you’re his hero. I’m guessing the pressure got to him at the school, and the last thing he wanted to do was face you. So, he turned to VR to escape. It sounds like he’s been trying to escape every minute of every day since. You’re not giving him space. You’re refusing to be his dad.”

  Anger washed over Bob’s face, and he huffed, likely ready to let me have it. I didn’t care because I had just told him the truth. Fortunately, his expression softened quickly, and he actually cracked the slightest grin. “Well, shit, kid. You’re right.”

  Having spent so much time in VR myself, I knew exactly how he could get his son’s attention. “You’re damn right, I’m right. Now send him the message ‘RW SOS – Need to talk.’ He’ll be impressed that you know what that means, and I’m sure he’ll message you back.”

  I could tell that Bob wasn’t great at showing emotion, but I knew I had gotten through. He thought for a moment, then pulled out his ancient netphone. “What was that message?”

  I repeated the message, explaining that it meant “real-world help”.

  “And Bob?”

  “Yeah, kid?”

  “Go easy on him.” I patted him on the shoulder as I passed on my way to the exit.

  He nodded. “Thanks, kid.”

  Leaving the garage, I had to consciously remember to go to the farther bullet stop to end up at the new apartment. I walked the three kilometers while trying to process the day but quickly shifted to how mine and Helen’s lives were taking on a whole new definition of normal.

  Physically, we’d finally settled into our hosts, and walking had become second nature. Occasionally, I’d find myself exhausted at the end of a day, and I’d wonder why. I had to remind myself of all the work I had done on the job and at home. Lifting. Pulling. Bending. Squatting. It had all become mindless. Helen had mentioned she’d experienced the same. We were planning to join the local gym and run our first 10K in a month or so.

  Financially, we were doing all right. As silly as it sounded, Helen earned the title “Lead Lead Generator” at NTE. It paid as good as the rumors had said even if she did have to put in long hours Monday through Friday and one Saturday a month. She just had a knack for it. My pay wasn’t great as an Auto Tech Level 1, but with the confidence of Bob and Jack, I knew I’d steadily get promotions.

  All in all, Helen and I often talked about how our lives in auto-chairs seemed like fluttering memories. Deep in thought, I didn’t notice the small crowd on the sidewalk ahead of me. Before I could react, I accidently bumped into someone.

  “Hey, asshole! Watch where you’re going!”

  I looked up quickly to see a tall woman with a bright-red Mohawk.

  She was with five men. They all had nasty dispositions and matching black, leather jackets with a familiar insignia—a ghost with a red circle around it and a line through it. I continued walking, and while passing between them, I caught in my peripheral the same image tattooed at the base of their skulls where the medical disk-turned-helmet would insert its neuro-connector into migrators.

  “Sorry.” I tried to keep my head down but couldn’t help noticing that one of the men was staring at me with ire in his eyes.

  “Hey, Terry!” The man shouted. “Look at his eye. He’s a mind spook!”

  It was just my luck that right when I started thinking about how good life was, I’d run into members of Pure Minds United—a viciously bigoted group, infamous for harassing and attacking anyone they suspected of having completed a mind migration. They professed that anyone who migrated lost their soul and became a puppet for the government. It was part of their overall backwards revisionist history where they believed that, for the last two hundred years, all the world’s leaders had been the same evil individuals who migrated into new bodies when their existing ones wore out. Their distrust of the government was ironic since it was rumored they had the support of some high ranking local and federal officials, which was why they never got arrested even though their jackets and tattoos made them easy to spot. Instead, they seemed to operate with impunity, and anyone who opposed them was deemed a migrator and thus evil. They were as ignorant as they were hateful, and I had a feeling that this interaction wasn’t going to end well.

  “Hey, mind spook! Don’t walk away from us!” the woman yelled.

  I could sense one of the men was about to put his hand on my shoulder, so I instinctively ducked and grabbed his wrist, twisting it behind his back.

  “Ah!”

  I pushed him toward his friend and let go to focus on trying to deescalate the situation. “Look, I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  They all looked at each other and laughed.

  The woman pulled out a knife from her pocket. “Get over here, you soulless bastard!”

  Her posse egged her on. “Get him, Terry!”

  As she lunged toward me with the tip of the knife, I subtly dodged it so I could stay as close to her body as possible. Taking her by the arm, I put my knee out to catch her in the hip and flipped her onto her back.

  She thudded against the sidewalk. “Oomph!”

  The knife went tink-tink-tink out into the street, and the other gang members shouted and spread out. “Hey, you piece of shit!”

  From all directions, the men dashed toward me with fists flying. Dropping down, I swept the legs out from under one of them and blasted him in the chest as he hit the ground. I popped up and, with both my hands, caught the fist of another man, threw his arm down, and cracked him hard on the nose. He stumbled back.

  Then, I took a kick to the ribs from behind. “Ugh!”

  Recovering instantly, I spun around and rammed my elbow into his knee cap, sending him yelping to the ground. Another man socked me in the left ear, and blood poured out of it immediately. Without thinking, I returned a blow to the side of his neck. He gargled to the ground.

  The last man jumped on my back and tried to choke me, but it only took me a moment to get my balance and fling him over my shoulder into two of his friends.

  The looks on all their faces revealed that they were doubting their decision to fight me. But the woman was eying the knife three meters away from both of us. It would be a tossup as to who could get to it first, but I didn’t hesitate any longer. We both dashed toward it and were closing in quickly when I threw caution to the wind and dove onto the rough terrain. I hit the ground, sliding an
d scraping for about a meter, but it was worth it because I took the knife into my hand, rolled over, and popped up in time to point it at her. She threw her hands up, and I was ready to go at them for round two when a bright light flashed on me and a siren flooded my ears.

  “Police! Get on your knees with your hands behind your head!”

  I immediately dropped the knife walked toward the police car. “Officers! These punks attacked me, and I was just defending—”

  Pop! Zip!

  I felt two pin pricks in my chest and didn’t even have time to figure out what they were before they went off. The shock zapped through my system, and darkness pierced though my sight, flooding my view. With all my effort, I tried to stay conscious, but I could feel myself slumping over as my vision slipped away. Through my struggles, something deep inside was coming to the fore along with the familiar feeling of sheer terror. The last bits of reality receded, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from closing.

  Just when I thought I was completely out of it, I had the urge to open my eyes again. When I did, there was only pure blackness.

  “What the hell?”

  I hadn’t been to the endless void since Charlie had been around. But there I was. I wondered how long it would be before something happened, and at that moment, a tiny, white silhouette appeared in the distance. With no frame of reference, I couldn’t tell if it was getting bigger or coming closer. Part of me wanted to run, but another part of me just wanted to stand my…ground.

  The light figure hissed. “Ryan…Ryan…”

  It was at the point where I could almost see its face clearly when a blinding light and deafening noise came from behind the figure. A vortex had opened, and its pull was instantly apparent. The thing in front of me turned around to see, then hissed as it got pulled into the light and disappeared. By the time I turned around to get away, it was too late. I was also being sucked in. The force and light were so intense that I could feel my consciousness being warped beyond recognition.

  Then, I heard an odd voice far away.

  “Wake up!”

  My eyes popped open in response to the commanding voice. Confusion set in immediately. I sat up to find myself lying in a twin bed in a tiny, dim bedroom. On the walls were faded posters of some superhero. In one picture, he was a white streak across the sky, and I could barely make out the words underneath him.

  When the universe needs saving, no one gets there faster than Master Alabaster!

  On another poster, Master Alabaster stood towering and strong. His whole body was made of chalky white stone and his head looked like a statue on Easter Island.

  I sat up to scan the room and found ancient children’s toys scattered about the floor. Many were missing parts. I looked down at the bed, and I was under a raggedy kid’s blanket with old-time cartoon characters. My pajamas were drab, and I was holding a ratty teddy bear in my arms.

  “Wake up!” Again, the voice beckoned from the other room.

  This time I detected a thick accent, though I wasn’t sure what kind. My eyes darted toward a wood dresser next to the bed. There were deep gashes in the wood and the staining had been rubbed off in several spots. I dropped my teddy and jumped out of bed. It took more effort than I had anticipated to tug open the top dresser drawer, and it made a terrible wooden screech as I did. I peered inside at a few sets of children’s shirts, underwear, and socks, then picked out my favorites and put them on the bed. Next, I muscled open the second drawer, which also moaned, and found pants. As I put the clothes on, it was clear. They were at least a half-size too small, and the materials felt thin. But it didn’t bother me for some reason.

  I left the bedroom and entered a short hallway, heading for what appeared to be a quaint kitchen. There was an aroma in the air that made me think of breakfast, but there were subtle hints of spices unfamiliar to me. Once in the kitchen, I was presented with a lanky, tan man with black hair cooking at the stove. He was dressed in modest slacks and a white button-down shirt.

  He turned and smiled. “Buenos…” He cleared his throat. “Good morning. Chilaquiles are on the table.”

  Unfamiliar with Chilaquiles, I simply wandered over and took a seat. The plate in front of me was half-covered with scrambled eggs and what appeared to be crumbled tortilla chips mixed in. They were covered in a red sauce that had diced green peppers in it, and the sides were a spoonful or so of refried beans and Spanish rice. It reminded me of some of the meals I would get at the Mexican restaurants my mom would take me to, but I’d never had anything like it for breakfast. That didn’t stop me from grabbing my fork and furiously digging in. After a few bites, I could feel my internal temperature rising, and my mouth began to burn. At first, I thought I was having an allergic reaction, but I quickly realized something entirely different was happening.

  I was eating the most delicious breakfast I’d ever had!

  Halfway through, I needed to wash the food down, so I grabbed what I thought was a quarter glass of cow’s milk. As I gulped, it became obvious that whatever I was drinking was waterier and sweeter than any milk I’d ever had. Regardless, I enjoyed every swallow immensely. It went perfectly with the food.

  The man walked past and put down two other cups of the white drink. Then, I watched him prepare two other half-full plates and bring them around to open chairs at the table. Before sitting down, he came over and gave me a partial hug.

  “Well? How is it?”

  With my mouth full, I smiled and nodded.

  Nodding and grinning, he sat down in front of one plate and then covered the odd plate with a napkin. In between his first few bites, his grin returned, and he began telling me about the day.

  “This meeting is a big deal.” He swallowed. “It will be a new start for us.”

  I nodded again, but something was bothering me. “Will I still be able to see my friends?”

  His smile dipped slightly. “Don’t worry, C—”

  The man stopped abruptly at the sound of a door opening across the small house. Moments later, a tall woman walked into the kitchen. She was dressed in a black shirt and pants and had brunette hair and much fairer skin than the man and me. She looked tired as she walked over to us.

  The man stood up to greet her. “Good morning, Susan.”

  They hugged and kissed, and Susan turned to me and brightened up.

  “Good morning, Carlito!” She shook her head and corrected herself. “Well, you’re not so little anymore. I guess I’ll have to start calling you Carlos.”

  As she came over to me, I instinctively opened my arms. We embraced tightly for a few seconds, and as she pulled away, she snuck a kiss on my forehead. Then, she sat down and ate quickly.

  After a couple of bites, she put her fork down, put her napkin to her mouth with one hand, and waved the other at her mouth. “Too spicy, Hector!” She grabbed her glass of the sweet drink and tried to put out the fire.

  Hector smiled wide. “If that doesn’t wake you up, nothing will!”

  We all laughed under our breaths, and despite the woman’s protest, she resumed eating. Talking ceased, leaving only the intermittent sounds of our forks scrapping against our plastic plates. After we all finished, I volunteered to gather everyone’s plates, took them to the sink, and dropped them in.

  Susan spoke up. “We should get going, so we’re on time.”

  We put on our jackets and shoes. My jacket was as snug as my clothes, and my shoes hurt my feet. Looking at Susan’s jacket, it seemed a little bigger and bulkier than I would have expected since she was quite thin.

  Hector grabbed a file folder that was bursting at the seams with papers, and we went outside to a beat-up, old car that I knew was a Chevy Equinox. Hector got into the driver’s seat while I slid into the back seat and Susan got into the passenger seat. We all put on manual seat belts, and we were off.

  The old neighborhoods we drove through looked oddl
y familiar to me, but I also felt a little lost. We took the onramp to an expressway, but the signs were very strange. I could make out all the letters but couldn’t read the words. It almost seemed like they were written in a different language. I shook off the thought and focused back on the road, noticing that most of the cars seemed newer than ours. My musings continued, and before I knew it, we were exiting the expressway. We made several turns and ended up on a two-lane main street going through an antiquated downtown area. We parked in the lot of a small building and walked around to the front entrance. I glanced at the sign, again unable to read the words, but only make out the letters.

  With the folder in one hand, Hector opened the door for Susan and me with the other. We walked into the vestibule of the old-fashioned building. The inner doors were classy, half-wood and half-glass. I grabbed the handle to open one for Hector and Susan. With their first steps in, their shoes produced clicks against the wooden floor that excited me because it was reminiscent of the century-old tap dancing videos I used to watch in Music class. When I walked in, my casual shoes didn’t make nearly as much noise. I moved past the disappointment of my shoes to look up and see a modest main area to the building. A police man was sitting behind a desk to our right. About ten meters in, a counter stretched the width of the building. I was starting to think we were in one of those old-time money banks with tellers behind the counter. We made our way to the back.

  Susan spoke to a short man with blond hair. “Hello. We’re here to see Mr. Williams.”

  “Hi. He’s expecting you. You can go into his office over there.” The teller pointed to an open door on the left side of the building, and we followed his instructions by walking across the small building.

  A portly man with a fine suit and gold-rimmed glasses looked up from his desk and set down the oldest Net device I had ever seen. Oddly enough, I noticed it was in really good shape. From my history classes, I believed it was called a tablet, and it couldn’t even project the simplest hologram.

  The man stood, extending his hand. “Good morning, Mr. and Mrs. Rios.”