Kev (25 page)

“Today is my birthday?” I said.

“Yes, dummy. Are you paying attention? Did
you hear what I said, or do you want to talk about your birthday
and all of the other things you’ve forgotten?”

“How are they going to die? How do I stop
it?”

“I don’t know, but you have to stop it or
else you will be stuck in this loop forever.”

“What loop?” I said, now interested in
understanding.

“I don’t know how to explain it. Actually,
I’m not entirely sure about it, but I think you are stuck and need
to become unstuck.”

“Well, how am I supposed to get out of it if
I don’t know what I’m getting out of?” I said, now annoyed
again.

“I don’t know. Pay attention. Don’t lose
sight of your parents at the party. That is when it will happen, if
it happens at all.”

“How do you know this?” I said.

The voice didn’t answer and I could feel it
had gone far away. I heard my mother call out to me from the
kitchen and went to her, sitting at the kitchen counter, my
thoughts focused on the possible death of my parents.

“You excited, Kev?” said my mother.

“About what?” I said, now forgetting it was
my birthday, and in that instant forgetting everything the voice
had told me.

“It’s your birthday, silly.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess. Are we having a party?” I
did not want to have a party. I hated parties.

“Of course we are, honey. We’re going to have
ponies you can ride, and all your friends are going to be
here.”

I knew I had friends, of course I knew, but
remember their names I could not. I knew I had memory problems, and
those in my life also knew I had those problems. Although some
would play with me in a silly way at times, pretty much everyone
treated me with kindness. The odd thing was that my memory problems
never affected my studies, my grades always perfect. Further, I
almost never forgot my family.

“What are you thinking about?” said my
mother, dragging me away from my thoughts.

“I don’t know,” I said. “I think I’ve
forgotten something.”

“It’s okay, Kev,” said my mother. “One day,
you are going to remember everything, and when you do, you will
experience something absolutely amazing, something I could never
describe.”

I looked at my mother and saw a strange
expression on her face, love mixed with…what was it? I think I saw
awe on her face. She smiled and patted me on the head. “I love you,
Kev. Love you forever.”

“I love you, mom,” I said.

“I made your favorite,” she said. “Frenchy
toasty, bacony and berries.”

I smiled. My mother could always put a smile
on my face. I couldn’t have wished for a better mother, or father,
for that matter. Both had shown me perfect love and devotion, and I
believe, for my part, I showed them the same.

My father entered the room and said, “Kev, my
boy, this is going to be an amazing day. Happy birthday!”

“Thanks, dad,” I said. Maybe a party wasn’t
such a bad thing. Maybe this would really be an amazing day.

After breakfast, I went to my fort out in the
back yard and sat at my table. I opened my journal to a blank page
and picked up a red pen, red being my favorite color.

I wrote, “I have forgotten something
important,” and paused.

What had I forgotten? I believed I had
forgotten something I should have never forgotten, something
terribly important that would alter the fabric of my life, but
could not recall it.

I wondered if I had written anything about it
in my journal and started to go back through the pages before
stopping myself, remembering something. I did not like reading my
journal, because within it I had written many things that I found
disturbing, things the voice had told me to write, things that made
no sense, although they troubled me. In that moment, I knew reading
the journal would disturb me greatly. However, I needed to figure
out what was going on, so I decided to read through my journal,
pausing briefly before turning to another page. In the moment I
paused, I forgot that I believed I had forgotten something
important, so I turned to a blank page and wrote, “Who am I?”

I felt a pulse in my pocket and reached in to
see what was in there, finding a little, clear cube, a cube that
was vibrating. I had no memory of this cube, but found it
fascinating. What made it vibrate like that? What was it? It
stopped vibrating. I examined its surface, finding no markings of
any kind, and then placed it on my table.

I looked at what I had written, having
forgotten that I had written, “Who am I?” I found myself asking
that question again, and again the cube started to vibrate. After
that, I spent a good amount of time trying to get the cube to
vibrate, thinking and saying different things, usually getting it
to vibrate when I asked questions about myself.

Some time later, my mother called out to me
from the kitchen window. It was time for the party. I pocketed the
clear cube and left my fort, and as I left, I noticed a small red
cube on the ground, a cube the same size as the clear cube. I
picked it up and put it in my pocket, figuring I would examine it
later.

I rushed into my house, finding a group of
boys and girls and some parents in the kitchen. Everyone greeted
me, each one reminding me of his or her name. With one exception, I
remembered their faces. That exception was the boy who introduced
himself as Clive. I felt certain I had never met this boy before
and wondered if he was new to the area.

“Do I know you?” I said to him after everyone
else had greeted me.

“Not yet, but you will,” he said with an easy
smile, a smile that seemed somehow ancient.

“Did you just move here?” I said.

“No. I’m just visiting the area and I thought
I’d stop by to wish you a happy birthday,” he said.

“Oh. Well, thank you.” While this struck me
as strange, I did not say anything about it. This big, brown and
somewhat goofy kid with that strange smile seemed like someone I
would like, someone who would make an excellent friend, if I could
remember him for any length of time.

The crowd exited the house, out into the
front yard, where my parents had set up two large picnic tables, on
which sat an assortment of snacks.

A truck towing a horse trailer pulled into
the driveway, and soon after, two men wearing black t-shirts with
red maple leaves printed on the front and their names (Bob and
Doug) printed on the back brought two ponies out of the trailer and
onto the front yard. One of the ponies relieved itself on the front
yard. I wondered if the men would clean that up.

Soon after, Uncle Joe and Aunt Helen arrived,
both bearing gifts, which they dutifully handed me after giving me
big hugs. Uncle Joe always gave the most amazing gifts. Aunt Helen
always gave the strangest gifts, the most recent being a little
black cube with a blue button and a digital display that always
seemed to display the current year. I remembered pressing the
button on the cube when she gave it to me, nothing happening, and
asking herwhat it was supposed to do. She said, “I’m not sure. I
thought you would know,” a strange answer from a strange woman.
That cube sat on my desk in my room, beside my airplane, untouched
since that day and mostly forgotten.

Soon after, all of the kids lined up for pony
rides, me first in line. I didn’t think the pony really liked me.
It kept bucking me off. After a few attempts, one of the men in
charge of the ponies told me it might be best if I took a
break.

I moved off to the side, now standing beside
Clive.

“I’m going to Camp Calistoga in July. You
should go too,” said Clive.

“Where is that?”

“Somewhere in Maine, I think. Cool place. You
should go.”

Going to camp seemed like an excellent idea.
“I’ll ask my parents,” I said, hoping they would let me go.

“I have a game we can play while we’re
there,” said Clive.

“Oh, really? What game?”

“It’s called The Show.”

“How do you play?”

“It’s a surprise, Kev, a big surprise.”

After everyone had a chance to ride the
ponies, all the kids sat at the picnic table to eat while the
adults stood off to the side. My mother had prepared barbequed
chicken with rice, a favorite of mine. Most of the kids had hoped
for pizza, and a small few complained, but in the end everyone
liked the chicken.

Clive sat beside me at the table, telling me
about the camp as we ate. It sounded like an amazing place, and I
couldn’t wait to tell my parents about it. I hoped they would let
me go.

After lunch, the adults cleaned off the table
and my mother brought out the cake, nine lit candles on top. After
everyone sung the requisite song, I blew out the candles, making my
wish. I wished that my parents would send me to Camp Calistoga, so
I could be with my new friend, Clive. My mother served everyone a
slice of cake and then moved away from the table.

I heard a strange sound, like a whining,
sputtering jet engine, something far away, and looked up, seeing
what looked like an airplane, smoke trailing from it, coming our
way. Behind it I saw another smaller object also coming our way. I
remembered what the voice had told me, and I looked at my parents
who were now off to the side, away from the crowd, talking amongst
themselves. I screamed out, “Mom, Dad, come here!”

My parents, hearing the distress in my voice,
ran over to me, and moments later, the planed crashed, the fuselage
landing on our neighbor’s house and the tail landing precisely
where my parents had been standing. I heard Clive mutter something
under his breath, but couldn’t make it out.

Chaos erupted, parents taking the kids far
away from the crash, my father and Uncle Joe running over to check
on our neighbor. Not long after a number of police cars and fire
trucks arrived on the scene.

Luckily, nobody was injured, although the
damage to my neighbor’s house was substantial.

Clive and I stood apart from the rest of the
crowd. “Looks like you saved the day, Kev,” he said, a strange tone
in his voice.

“I guess so,” I said, now remembering what
the voice had said, wondering how the voice knew this would happen
and wondering if this was just bad luck, or something done by
design, a possibility that seemed like more than a possibility,
although I did not know why I believed that.

Within a couple of hours, everyone had left,
except for the firemen and the police, who were busy cleaning
things up. My parents brought me into the house, my father looking
at me strangely, saying, “You saved us. I didn’t think you would
save us.”

I didn’t know what to make of that and soon
forgot he had said it, too occupied with my own thoughts, still
wondering why things had played out the way they had. I wondered if
the voice would shed any light on things.

A few days passed, things returning to
normal. I had completely forgotten about the plane crash. I had
also forgotten about Clive and Camp Calistoga. There were many
things I had forgotten. The voice returned to remind me.

“Good work, Kev,” said the voice.

“What are you talking about?”

“You saved our parents.”

“Our parents?”

“Yeah, mom and dad.”

“You’re not my brother. I don’t have a
brother.”

“I’m not your brother, dummy. I’m you. Don’t
you remember? What am I saying? Of course you don’t remember.”

“What are you talking about?” I said.

“Never mind. Look, you need to get mom and
dad to agree to send you to Camp Calistoga or they are going to be
killed.”

“What?” I cried, looking around to be sure my
parents weren’t nearby. I didn’t want them to think I had gone
crazy, and I believed that talking to the voice in this way might
make them think I had gone a little bonkers. Luckily, they weren’t
around.

“Who is going to kill my parents?” I
said.

“Our parents. I don’t know, but unless you
get them to send you to that camp, they are going to die.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“Positive. In fact, you are going to have to
save them right now. Somebody just delivered a package. It is a
bomb. You have to save them, Kev. Then you have to get them to send
you to camp.”

I didn’t need any more talk to get me moving.
I rushed out of my bedroom and into the kitchen where I found my
mother and father. My father had a package in his hand.

“Don’t open that! It’s a bomb!” I cried,
running over to my father and grabbing the package from him,
throwing it into the corner. “We have to leave,” I cried. “Now.
Please. It is a bomb.”

Without asking any questions, my parents
followed me out of the house, into the back yard. Seconds later,
the bomb exploded, tearing a huge hole in the back wall of the
house.

I looked at my parents, who were looking
right back at me, amazed, but maybe not terribly surprised. They
both took me in their arms, hugging me tightly and kissing me,
thanking me for saving them over and over.

Amidst all of the hugs and kisses, I managed
to get out, “You need to send me to Camp Calistoga or someone is
going to kill you.”

They asked no questions, which I thought odd,
but didn’t question. They agreed to send me to camp, and three
weeks later, they dropped me off at Camp Calistoga, a small
suitcase in hand. I didn’t realize it at the time, but my birthday
wish had come true.

There, I met Clive, my bunkmate, for the
first time, or so I thought, and so he led me to believe. We
immediately hit it off, spending all of our time together. When we
had free time, we would play on a large boulder by a pond. Clive
called the boulder Proth, but would never explain that name.

It did not take long for Clive to invite me
to play The Show, my first challenge on that show causing my death
and rebirth, although I thought I had only blacked out. I remember
coming to on the rock after Clive had basically strangled me to
death, not fully aware of what had happened, and asking Clive to
explain. He would only say, “You lost. Do you want to try
again?”