What if . . . you could redo it all?
The novella. #3 TimeTravel.
If you could go back in time and redo one thing in your life, what would it be?
Anaya, a disillusioned, thirty-five-year-old doctor, has been looking after Gregory, a retired watchmak...
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2000, Eighteen Years Backwards
Looking back at the future didn't seem to work the same way as the past. After the vision of her parents' bankruptcy, Anaya set out to put down everything that would happen to her, in chronological order, until her death. But however much she tried, nothing appeared.
She could remember the immediate past of her thirty-five-year-old self, as well as Greg, the accident, and her second chance. Her hindsight of her teen years was also twenty-twenty. But anywhere in between, her mind simply could not go. Those memories seemed only to be triggered by some related event. In this case, thinking about asking her parents for a loan must have sparked the recall. Slamming her notebook shut, Anaya concluded that it was much like experiencing déjà vu, just more frequently.
Now knowing her family would drown in debt, she paced around her room. What, precisely, could she do about it? Were there rules about knowing the future—the parts that applied to her at least? It wasn't like she could run out and buy a winning lottery ticket. Anaya had never even held one before, let alone memorized the correct numbers on any given day.
She needed to find answers and would've marched straight off to confront the only source from whom they could be obtained, if not for the terror it caused her to even think about that white van barreling toward her. So, she scoured the phone book to harass him verbally instead. But she didn't find anyone by the name of Gregory Augustine. Neither could the staff at St. Jude's. He must not have moved there yet.
That first night, when sitting together for dinner, she took in every detail around her, almost like she was meeting her parents for the first time. It took her from setting up the table all the way to the main course to get over how young and active they all were. Memories from even younger days gushed forth. Images of her mother in her favorite blue dress and string of freshwater pearls. The look on her dad's face when he licked his fingers to savor the last taste of his favorite pumpkin pie. The countless styles they experimented with on the house before settling into this contemporary, urban vibe in a palette of teals, reds and golds. Nostalgia filled her every pore, and she hardly touched her medium rare T-bone steak. How could I NOT want to be here? Who gets a chance like this and balks?
Anaya wasn't sure if she could have carried on a conversation even if her life depended on it. Fortunately for her, everyone kept to themselves. She wanted to avoid being caught acting strangely, and her parents had so much on their minds.
Later, she eavesdropped on heated conflicts in hushed tones in the dead of the night, about finances and getting together all the paperwork necessary to file for bankruptcy. Insolvency, liquidation, court order, debt restructuring, fraud. The words and phrases had so much more gravitas in her adult mind. She felt a sharp pang of guilt as she realized the extent of what she hadn't been aware of, and how little compassion she'd had as an actual teen. But it was too late now. They were closing up shop next week.
In the days that followed, she'd opened her mouth to tell them about her decision to go to college, but shut it again. She imagined they'd be happy and proud. But she didn't want them to feel the added burden of figuring out how to pay for it.
Alone in her room, she bolted upright on her bed, realizing that she didn't even know how much college cost those days or what her options were—if any! Why the hell had my parents never bothered to invest in a college fund for me? But then, neither of them had a degree. Come to think of it, no one in either of their families had gone off to college. Her mother was continually upskilling herself with professional courses and her dad was more of a big idea, big picture guy. So she didn't feel like she could honestly blame them for not knowing how or when to plan for it. Well, her seventeen-year-old self sure would've kicked up a shitstorm. But as a thirty-five-year-old in a teenage body, she had no use for pettiness. She narrowed her eyes. The solution couldn't elude her for long.
Her grades had plummeted last year, so she scratched scholarships off her mental list straight away. As she pulled out the packet El had given her, a tiny white business card floated down to the grey carpet. Like the first perfect snowflake of winter.
She headed downstairs again to tell her mother what she'd decided. If it were her kid, she'd want to help in any way possible. "Mom?"
"Hmm?" Patience was in their butterscotch kitchen, hunched over a stack of blue invoices and red payment receipts, working on a well-punched Casio calculator that printed on a roll of cream paper. Her mother's name was a longstanding joke in the family. She had no patience at all.
"I need to talk to you. If you're busy though, I can come back later." Anaya had tried, her nerve had faltered, and she half-turned to go back to her room.
"It's all right. I keep getting the exact same answer, regardless of how many ways I run the numbers." When her mom raised her eyes up from her work, one look and she swiped her work aside. Her full attention on Anaya, her other hand gestured to a chair.
Anaya planted herself on it, took a deep breath and launched right in, hoping her words would sound as logical out loud as they did in her head. "I know I haven't shown much interest, but I've been thinking a lot about what I should do after high school and I want to check out some colleges. Since Dad's business isn't doing well, I wouldn't ask you to pay for it. I'm not certain what my options are or what courses I can get into. But I'd like to try. So, if it's okay, I'd like to take the day off from school tomorrow to see a lady about a loan."
At first, her mom only stared back. After a moment, her eyes welled up. Then they overflowed. "I'll take you myself."
Anaya's vision started to blur with her own tears. She didn't think her mother could handle much more either, so she just left it at "I'd like that."
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Hi there! Thank you for being here! Are you liking this chapter so far? Did you see any missed opportunities you think I should work on? Please don't forget to let me know what you think in a short comment below. Thanks so much, G.
