by Shawn Inmon
‘If it did, you’d be rich, as much as everyone is playing it.” She turned her head and looked at Joe. Riding in the passenger seat, she could only see the unmarred side of his face. “You are one odd duck, Joe Hart. Anyone else I know, that would have been the first thing they thought about. They would have had that money spent a dozen times before they saw it.”
If I say I don’t care much about money, that comes off wrong. Maybe a little pretentious, or maybe spoiled, because I’ve never had to work. This dating thing is a minefield. What to say, how to say it. Maybe the best thing is to just say what I feel and let whatever happens, happen.
“I know I’m lucky in that way. I’ve never really had to think about money. I’m not rich, for sure, but I’ve always had what I need. I can see where that seems like a good thing, and in some ways it is, but it can also be a bad thing. If my mom had needed to go get a job, it probably would have been good for her. Maybe she still would have drunk herself to death, but maybe she wouldn’t.”
Joe rolled to a stop at a red light—one of only a handful of stoplights in Middle Falls—and glanced at Shannon. She was chewing on her lip, but didn’t say anything.
They had a good dinner at Burl’s. For steak lovers, it was hard to go wrong at Burl’s. They both had a thick steak and baked potatoes with gobs of butter, sour cream, and chives.
Once their plates had been cleared away, Joe said, “What made you become a reporter?”
“When I was a kid, my dad bought me a toy printing press. It was kind of a pain, and it took forever to do the typesetting, but I used to print up stories about what was happening in our neighborhood. Lost cat, a mailbox knocked down, I was all over it. Shannon Harris, cub reporter.”
“Did you grow up in Middle Falls? I don’t remember seeing you around in school.”
“No, I didn’t, but I would have been graduating about the time you were in fourth grade, anyway. Middle Falls isn’t my final stop, it’s just a step on the ladder. I want to report for a real paper, like the Seattle Times, or one of the LA or New York papers.”
“Ambition’s a good thing, right?”
Is this just something missing in me? That I don’t want to go somewhere else and climb the ladder higher?
Shannon looked at him as though she could read his mind. “Everybody’s different Joe. We all have different wants and needs. What do you want?”
“Oof. Good question. I guess I want to have friends I can count on, people who care about me. I want to do what I can to make life better for other people.”
“You’re an idealist. You should check out the Peace Corp. You’re just the right age.”
Joe nodded. “I suppose. Now that I have Allen and Jenny, I can’t imagine leaving them, though. They’re my family for now.”
Joe paid the check and they drove home, listening to the radio. When he pulled in behind Shannon’s car, he said, “Do you want to come in? I can make us some coffee.”
“Thanks, Joe. I’ve got an early appointment tomorrow morning. Interviewing the coach of a Peewee football team that’s getting ready to go to the regional tournament. Only the biggest stories for me.”
Joe laughed, but Shannon laid her hand on his. “Listen, this is never going to work. I’m too much older than you, and we’re kind of heading in different directions.” She pulled a pen and a business card out of her pocket and scribbled something on the back of it. “This is my friend Carol’s number. I think you two would be perfect for each other. She has a cat. I’ll call her when I get home and let her know you’re going to call her, so don’t make me look bad, all right?”
Shannon leaned over and brushed her lips against Joe’s cheek. His right cheek. She was out of the car like a shot.
Joe watched her pull away, a small curl of exhaust coming from the tail pipe.
And there it is, folks. My first kiss.
Chapter Forty
Joe did as he was told and called Carol. Shannon was right—they were more compatible. She made a fuss over Allen and Jenny when she first met them, and they both liked the same kind of movies and TV shows. The two of them dated for six months until, over time, she grew more distant. Eventually, she told him that she had begun seeing another man, and that was the end of that.
And there it was, Joe’s first heartbreak, albeit a small one.
Joe dated a few other women over the next few years, but nothing serious ever came from it. Joe’s face made it impossible to mistake him for anyone else. Almost everyone in town knew who he was, and many knew that he had become wealthy, even though he never showed it.
When a woman appeared interested in him, it was hard for Joe to know what, exactly, she was interested in, and so he retreated to the sidelines of the dating game. He had tried it, hadn’t liked it, and wouldn’t miss it.
It took time for the impact of John’s version of Forever for You to show up in his quarterly royalty reports, but when they did, Joe goggled a bit at the numbers. He didn’t fall into the “buy your own island and live like Hugh Hefner” category, but he would certainly never need to work again.
In August of 1983, Joe was still happily living in his small house behind the Fornowskis. He, Allen, and Jenny, along with Stan and Claire in the bigger house, had become a family. He had no idea how he had gotten by before all of them had come into his life.
August is the hottest month in Middle Falls, so Joe often kept his shades drawn to keep out the beating sun and conserve the cool from his small air conditioner. One Saturday, he was fed up with the darkness of being inside and took Jenny for a bonus walk around the neighborhood.
When he got to the street, he saw a small river of water running from the Fornowski’s driveway into the street and eventually the gutter.
That is so unlike Stan. He’d rather enter the Miss America pageant than waste water.
Joe went to investigate and found Stan Fornowski lying face down in his driveway. The hose, still running at full bore, was clutched in his right hand. He had been washing his work truck and fallen beside it. Joe called to Claire and began administering CPR. The ambulance arrived in record time and Stan was still alive when he got to the hospital, but he passed away less than an hour later.
Claire was devastated. She liked to say she had a touch of second sight, but she never saw Stan lying in their driveway with the hose still running. At least, if she did, she turned a blind eye toward it. Joe watched as some of the light went out of the most cheerful person he had ever known.
Joe did everything he could to help Claire adjust to widowhood, but after forty years of marriage, that’s not easy. Especially after forty years of a happy marriage, with many more anticipated.
Joe made sure he did all the little upkeep things on the house to get it ready for winter. He cleaned gutters, installed storm doors and windows, caulked everywhere cold could get in, and covered all the exterior faucets.
He did all that to help Claire, but in the end, watching Joe bustle to and fro, winterizing the house, only served to remind her that Stan was gone.
In January, when western Oregon is at its coldest and most rainy, she knocked on Joe’s door.
He hurried her inside to keep the gales on the outside.
Once inside, she pushed her damp hair back out of her face and greeted Jenny, who got as excited at seeing Claire as she ever did seeing anyone but Joe. When Jenny got excited she sneezed, and any visit from Claire was worth at least three of them. Even Allen deigned to come up and rub on her legs, claiming another subject in his kingdom.
Joe put the teapot on the stove to boil and sat Claire down. It was easy to see that something was heavy on her mind.
They talked about unimportant things like whether they might all blow away in the current storm for a few minutes while Joe made tea.
He didn’t have to ask Claire how she wanted hers. She had been stopping by more and more often the previous few months.
Before she even took a sip, Claire said, “Would you like to buy the house? Claire was ne
ver one to beat around the bush. “I hate to sell it, because Stan practically built it all by himself. He picked out every piece of lumber, every piece of pipe, and every inch of wiring. I love that house. It makes me unbearably sad to think of not living in it. But, living there with all the memories is worse. So. What do you say?”
Joe took a moment to consider. “Where would you go?”
“My sister lives in San Diego. She’s a widow, too, and she lives in a big house that looks out over Mission Bay.”
Joe’s eyebrows rose. “Sounds like she’s doing all right for herself.”
“I married for love. She married for money. Now I’ve got memories, and she’s still got the money.”
“I’d take what you had every time.”
Tears leaked out of the corner of Claire’s eyes. “I would, too.”
“If you’re dead set on leaving, of course I’ll buy the house. I can’t imagine anyone else owning it.”
“I just knew I could count on you.” She pulled a wadded up tissue from her sleeve and dabbed at her eyes. “Now. I’ve contacted a real estate agent about handling the sale. She said that as nice as the house is, it’s still just a little two bedroom cottage. I never told her about the mother-in-law out here, because I’m not at all sure Stan got the permits for it. I think he just built it for mother, then was planning on tearing it down after. But then, you came into our lives.”
She laid her hand on Joe’s. He noticed that her wedding band was still on her ring finger.
“I don’t know if you know what a blessing you were to us, and to Stan. We never had children, but he certainly considered you to be a son.”
“I was lucky to have called him that day. Knowing you two has changed my life, in all ways, for the better.”
“The Realtor said the most we could get would probably be $60,000, but I told her that was too much. I want to offer it to you for $50,000.”
“I’m sorry Claire, but I couldn’t do it at that price.”
“Oh?” A waver in her voice.
“I can’t imagine giving you less than $75,000. I know how that place was built. Plus, I’ve heard there’s an illegal house that comes with it. I’d like to pay you more, but I have a feeling you won’t accept it.”
“You’re right. Oh, Joe,” she said, leaning across the table and embracing him. “Thank you. You’ve brought me so much peace of mind.”
“Let’s do this, then. I’ll ask a lawyer to draw up the paperwork, and I’ll transfer the money into your account. Then, you stay there as long as you want. I’d like it if you stayed at least until spring. I might need help understanding what all’s in your flower beds.”
Claire did stay until spring. She wrote out pages of notes and diagrams about what was planted where in her flower beds, along with instructions on how to care for them.
In May, a moving truck showed up and a few hours later, the house was packed up and loaded. Claire insisted on including Stan’s old pickup in the sale of the house, along with his shop, which had all his tools.
Joe drove Claire to Portland to catch her flight to San Diego. He walked her to her gate, kissed her cheek, and watched her disappear down into the plane.
Aside from Allen and Jenny, Joe Hart was alone once again.
Chapter Forty-One
In the spring of 1984, Joe got restless. With Stan dead and Claire gone to San Diego, his circle of friends had dwindled dramatically. He and Jenny still volunteered at the shelter three or four shifts per week, but even that had started to feel rote.
He cast about, looking for something to dedicate his life to. He wanted to find a way to make the world better, but beyond his small volunteering, he hadn’t found a way, yet.
He considered going to college, and he was sitting in the living room of his house late one spring afternoon. He was absent-mindedly petting Jenny and looking at the courses offered at Middle Falls Community College, when there was a soft knock on the front door.
Jenny went on full alert, barking and growling at the door.
Joe was never the kind to look through the peephole. He just opened the door. When he did, he got a shock.
“Yo, Middle Falls boy.”
A lanky man with hair over his collar and a droopy moustache stood smiling at him. It took Joe half a beat to recognize Scott Mckenzie, but when he did, his face split into a huge grin. Without a thought, he grabbed and hugged him.
“Oh my God! The mysterious Scott Mckenzie! The invisible man! I thought you were in the wind forever!”
“Hey, it takes a while to hitchhike from Florida to Oregon.”
“Four years?”
“Well, I may have had a couple of detours.”
“Come in, man, set your bedroll over there in the corner.”
Joe looked at him, shaking his head. “I swear, I thought I’d never see you again.”
“Ah, I really did think I would make it here sooner, but as always, things pop up. I stopped in Indiana and saw my sister, and I had some business to attend to.” The way he said that made that business sound mysterious and intriguing to Joe.
“The years just slip away, that’s for sure. I was so bummed when I woke up in the hospital, and you weren’t there. I never got a chance to thank you for saving my life. And John’s.”
“I couldn’t believe I almost missed it, when I got back. I am such a dummy.”
“Yeah, you were definitely there in the nick of—wait, what? What do you mean ‘missed it’? Did you know that was going to happen?”
“Of course. And so did you. I could tell that right away. I’ve met a few others of us, though. I’m guessing maybe you haven’t?”
Joe was stunned into silence. He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.
“From the expression on your face, I’m guessing you haven’t run into many, or even any others.”
“I met one lady. In a library. I was looking for anyone else who was going through this. She was about to, I think she called it, reset her life, though, and she wouldn’t stay and talk to me. That’s been more than five years ago, though, so I thought I was never going to meet anyone else. So, you were in New York just to save John’s life, then.”
“Just like you, brother. It’s what I do. Or, at least, what I’ve done.” He took his army-green cap off and ran a finger through hair that was noticeably salt and pepper now. “I’m getting old. I’ve decided to do my best to ride this life to the end, so there’s only so many things I can change.”
“I wanted to do the same—do things that changed the world and made it better. I have a hard time remembering what events happened when, though. I can never be sure when and where I need to show up. Do you have some kind of super memory or something?”
“No, not at all. I spent quite a few lives just indulging myself. When you find out there’s no real consequence to your actions, it can make you into a bit of a prick. It certainly did me. Eventually, I got all that out of my system though, and figured out that maybe the best way to help myself is to help others. Once I figured that out, I spent one long, boring life reading through newspapers and magazines, looking for things I wanted to change. A mother drowning her children in Tennessee. A father murdering his whole family in Maine. Serial killers. That sort of thing. Then, I memorized the list and started over. Just like that, I had a good list of events to try and stop or change. I memorized the best places and times to be in a particular spot in order to stop bad things from happening.”
“By ‘started over,’ you mean...” Joe ran a meaningful finger across his throat.
“Yep. Exactly. I’ve done that so often, it doesn’t bother me anymore. It’s not suicide, it’s just starting over. Or, resetting, as the woman in the library called it.” He paused, thoughtfully, staring at his shoes. “Okay, that’s not completely true. The first time was suicide. I’ll admit that. I was pretty messed up and depressed when I got back from the war. I challenge anyone to live in a VA hospital, in the conditions we did, and not end up a little crazy. If
the war didn’t do it to you, that shithole sure did. Also, living a couple of dozen lifetimes helps a lot. It took me a long time to get my distance from all that, but I’ve got my feet under me now.”
“Holy buckets, Scott. You are rocking my world. Two dozen lives? I’m on my third, and I lose track of things. I have so many questions! How old are you when you start over each time? Don’t you ever get confused about what’s happened before, and what’s happening in this life?”
Scott held his hand up, asking Joe to slow down. “I wake up about a month after I got my honorable discharge and I was out of that hell hole of a hospital. If I woke up further back, and I had to spend that year there again, I don’t think I would have ever done it a second time. Of course, if I went a little further back, I would have just headed for Canada and saved myself the trauma of the war.”
“Do you interfere in these bad things happening, then just disappear like you did in New York?”
“Well, yeah, that’s the plan, but it doesn’t always work out that way. Sometimes, people get suspicious about how I just happened to be in a particular place at a particular time. If those local sheriffs ever start talking to each other about me, the jig would be up. That scene at the Dakota was a little different. Most of the things I do aren’t high profile like that. I had intended to jump into action that night, when I realized you were there to do the same job. But, I was prepared just in case.”
“After I blew it.”
“Don’t be down on yourself. You didn’t hesitate. You jumped right into the line of fire. I should have been closer. Plus, changing things like that isn’t always easy. In fact, it’s freaking tough.”
“Do you always get there in time?”
Scott shook his head. “No. I’ve missed on a few of them. Like I say, some things can be hard to change. You saw that in New York. But, I don’t have any real clue how all this works. If I save three people but then miss on one, for instance. If I start over, what happens to those people I already saved? It’s like a dog chasing its tail. That’s why I’ve decided to just do the best I can, and live this life through until it ends of natural causes. I’m tired of living the same time period over and over.”
