Manny's Mix-up

Part Four

A strip of light fell on Jason’s eyes when he rolled over.  The gap in the drapes let in the light from the streetlamp, but he couldn’t sleep anyway so he sat on the edge of the bed and looked over at Maddie.  She was facing him, and he could see her lips moving.  She must have been dreaming.

He got up and began pacing the floor in front of the beds.  Without the constant movement he’d experienced for the last fifteen years, Jason didn’t know what to do with himself.  The years on the road with a boy band and then by himself, or the fourteen hour days spent on a movie set had suited him.  He loved being in constant motion; it had kept him from thinking about anything else.

Now, in the darkness of the dreary motel room, he had time to think, and he didn’t like it.  He thought about Brian, his manager, and the constant fighting that drained him, of his mother who told him he was working too hard and he never came to see her anymore, or his father, who still thought dancing and singing was no way for a man to make a living.  Not terrible things, sure, but guilt-producing nonetheless.  It seemed no matter what he did he couldn’t please them, and he never knew how much it bothered him until this moment.  Millions of people bought his records and saw his movies, wrote adoring fan mail and drooled over him when they met, but no kudos came from his family.

This is stupid, he thought.  I’m too old to be worried about what they think.

He stopped pacing and leaned against the dresser.  Maddie was talking out loud now, mumbling incoherently and her hands were shaking.  What had she endured during her stay in that safe house?  Had they abused her?  He hadn’t been able to look at her closely to see if she had any scars or bruises, and he hoped he’d never find any, but her strange dull expression may indicate some kind of mistreatment.

The light in the motel office was on and Jason left the room to see if Bill was awake.  The old man was still sitting behind the counter and smiled when Jason walked in wearing the black and white checked shirt.

“It fits,” he said.  “I always liked that shirt.”

“Yeah, it’s something else,” Jason said.  “You’re still awake.  Isn’t it kind of late?”

“I don’t sleep much anymore.  We don’t get many visitors here, but I’m still hopeful.  I feel like I’m working, and the TV in my living room doesn’t work.”

He pointed to a small screen TV on the wall.  An old movie was playing, something that had just come out in 2013.

“That’s really old,” Jason said.

“I saw that with my friends a long time ago.  I was so young, they made me show them my I.D. at the box office.  It’s hard to believe so much time has passed.”

Bill looked a little dreamy as he reminisced about his youth.

“What do you know about Maddie?” Jason asked.

“She’s a sweet girl, but she always seems far away, like she isn’t really here, if you know what I mean.”

“She said you buy her breakfast.”

“We go to that little diner across the street.  She never has any money, but I don’t mind helping her.  She has no family here.”

“Did she tell you about her family?”

“No, she doesn’t talk about herself.  She talked about the safe house, though.”

“Yeah, I know about that.  I just wondered about her.”

“You’ll have to ask her.”

“So, you liked Jason Taylor.”

“He was one of the best.  It was such a shame what happened to him.  And still so young.”

A creepy feeling crawled up Jason’s spine.  “What happened to him?”

“He was killed leaving the stage one night.  Someone stabbed him in the heart.  He died instantly.  It was in the news for weeks.”

“How old…when did it happen?”

“Let’s see, I can’t recall the exact date.  I was about thirty at the time, maybe 2014, yes, that’s it, 2014.”

“Well, I guess I’ll go back and see how Maddie’s doing.  Thanks, Bill.”

“For what?”

“Oh, just talking.”

The sky was growing lighter and Jason was feeling the strain of time travel.  He was tired, and when he got back in the room, flopped on the bed, turned his back to the light, and tried to go to sleep.  He kept thinking about his murder.  If he went back to 2013, he’d be aware that someone was going to kill him and take precautions.  He could avoid being murdered, but how would that change things for everyone else?  Back to the Future’s Doc Brown popped into this head talking about the space–time continuum.  Would he cause some ripple in time if he went back?  But if he didn’t go back and wasn’t murdered, wouldn’t that do the same thing? 

It took a while to turn off his thoughts, and when he finally went off, he dreamed of a crazed fan coming at him with a knife.