Chapter 15 — Cheat

 

Rufus describes the connection between friends and time travel, and waxes lyrical about water.

Followed by Chapter 15 —— Cheat, in which one of the Saskia’s answers the knock at the front door.

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Hello Friends,

Catching up with some old friends a couple of weeks ago, I was struck by how such interactions share an aspect of time travel. Specifically, how we revert back to our former selves.

It’s related to the joy of going back and reading something you worked on many years ago——or even last week, for those of us with the memory of a goldfish——and appreciating the words you’d crafted back then. Only, in the case of friendships, you are transported back to ties you cultivated years ago. They are, of course, a reflection of who you were back then, which in turn is a related to who you have grown into being. In those old friends you can sometimes catch a glimpse of who you, in another life, might have become.

I think it’s perfectly OK to hold a certain nostalgia for a life path not traveled, and there are definitely other me’s who I’d be curious to meet. For today, though, those reflected me’s in the eyes of the friends who knew me back then will have to suffice.

I’m happy where I am, and even happy with the winding path that brought me here.

As it happened, catching up with my old friends was also suffused with memories of my life lived in another city, and the very different climates I’ve enjoyed in the past. Including colder and wetter ones.

Rain is such a strange and particular thing. In California it is a rare and wonderful event. But in many locations it is so everyday and banal, and yet so crucial to the landscape it lands in. It reflects the way we know and understand life. It is such an integral fixture in the world that I’m sheepish to have to admit that it’s only recently that I’ve begun to appreciate its full import. Indeed, the importance of each individual drop in the context of the entire storm.

We are all just grains of sand on a beach, upon which the ocean crashes. And that ocean is fed by the rivers, who, themselves represent the accumulation of droplets who have miraculously slipped by any plants or animals on their path to lower ground. And though the ocean is great and wonderful, where would we be were it not for the water that got lost on the way there and became a part——albeit a small part——of some other bigger whole? Maybe even you or I. We are after all 70% water, if my memory serves me correctly.

Anyway, enough on water and old friends, time to turn back to The Curve of Time.

Until next week, be kind to someone and keep an eye out for the ripples of joy you’ve seeded.

Cheerio
Rufus

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And now, without further ado, here’s chapter fifteen in which one of the Saskia’s answers the knock at the front door.

— 15 —

Cheat

Turning to each other, the two Saskia’s thought the same thing: if this was a third Saskia, how many more were about to show up?

“I should answer that,” Saskia said as she crossed to toss Tomato’s empty breakfast packaging into the trash.

You should?”

Saskia felt suddenly guilty about her automatic impulse. “Well, one of us should.”

Her double nodded, considering the situation.

“We could both——” But Saskia’s suggestion was interrupted by another loud knock.

“That doesn’t sound like another us,” living room Saskia observed. “Were you expecting someone?”

“No. Were you?”

Living room Saskia shook her head slowly. “It’s alright. I’ll hang back. You can answer it.”

Saskia reflected, as she loped the down the wooden hallway to her front door: there had been no determinative reason that it ought to be she who answered the knock. Indeed, as she turned the handle, she wondered if the universe was even now splintering into different strands of a multiverse predicated on the many daily choices being made.

But none of that explained her doppleganger back in the kitchen. And none of it would explain another her, if in fact it was another Saskia, standing on her stoop.

Opening the door, however, revealed a man she’d never met before. Perhaps the other Saskia ought to have answered the door? Perhaps it was Saskia herself who was somehow an interloper in this world? No time for that now. “Hello. Can I help you?” she asked.

“That doesn’t really seem to be your nature, does it,” the surly man contended rudely. Grammatically it was a question, but there was no doubt it was intended as a statement of slight.

“I’m sorry,”——Saskia decided to risk it——“have we met?”

“No, but that didn’t stop you from muscling in on my win.” The man was Hugo Smith, and he veritably vomited up his beef with Saskia.

For her part, Saskia, while giving a performative show of listening, was desperately trying to figure out the safest response. In the end, she opted for laughter. “You believe in time travel?!”

Her response took the wind out of Hugo’s sails. “But——you don’t deny you won the Powerball?”

Saskia cocked her head, as if observing Hugo from a different angle might help resolve a conundrum she was pondering. “Do you?”

“No, but ...”

Having had enough of this rude man and his crooked nose——probably a consequence of one too many uncouth sports——Saskia bid him good day and closed the door on him.

She was annoyed that Mica had shared her secret. Of course, Mica was a journalist and Saskia ought to be glad that Mica had only shared her secret with one other person——at least that was all she knew of right now. The real problem was that, in her heart, Saskia had felt it had been a secret between them, disclosed in confidence.

Back in the kitchen, Saskia related her awkward encounter and then put it to her other self: “Did you know about Hugo?”

Her double shook her head. “Seems to me, our memories only forked outside the restroom at Cleo’s. So about thirty-six hours ago.”

“Actually, I’m pretty sure they forked when you left the table at Cleo’s,” Saskia corrected her.

Either way, both Saskia’s agreed it was not a great idea to go around telling people about slipping in time. Fortunately, neither could be that mad at the other about time travel having been revealed to Mica, given they’d both been guilty on that front. It was apparent, though, that that indiscretion ought to be cauterized. “Okay,” Saskia declared. “Stay put, and don’t open the door for anyone. I’m going to talk to Mica.”

“And keep me in the dark?” Living room Saskia shook her head. “I’m as real as you!”

“Fine, I’ll call her——we’ll call her. But we’re not telling her you’re here. She walked out on the rest of dinner last time she saw you.”

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Chapter 16 — Stop It

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Chapter 14 — Emergent Phenomena