Rewrite Redemption (49 page)

Guess I wouldn’t be using that tree again. It wasn’t that great anyway. I got just enough to stabilize my dizziness and take away the last of the headache.

But the feeling of dread…it didn’t go anywhere.

As I got into the car, I caught a quick glimpse at myself in the rearview mirror. I looked terrible. My eyes were still glassy and red rimmed. They had dark circles under them, like I was sick or something. My hair was all wild and sticking out. I’d forgotten to comb it. I raked my fingers through my hair, smoothing it down. There was nothing I could do about my eyes. The tree might have given me some juice, but I was used to a higher quality of energy now.

Dude,
I told myself,
you’re pathetic.
I drove to the bus station in silence. Music couldn’t help me this time.

Heading down 14th to Walnut Street, I saw her auburn hair from two blocks away. They were sitting cross-legged on a brick planter, heads together, obviously lost in conversation. A.J.’s long hair hung down hiding her face, the shining ripples of silk reflecting highlights in the bright, Colorado sun. I wanted to bury my face in it and feel it’s softness on my cheeks. I yanked myself back to reality—not an option. She was taken.

They didn’t look up as I pulled to the curb. Probably they were talking about how great it would be to get Ipod back. At least I could do that one thing right. I was ready to take a bullet for her; I could rescue her boyfriend. Then she could help me rewrite my original screw-up. I’d redeem myself and just forget about everything else.

My old, pre-accident life wasn’t so bad. I’d been happy. I needed to keep telling myself that. At least my family would be okay. That’s what really mattered.

I honked and they looked up and walked over to the car. A.J. climbed in the back seat. Lex got in the front. Could she be more obvious? She didn’t even want to be near me. I watched her in the rearview mirror. Her eyes were red, and she looked really bummed out. Something was seriously messed-up.

Something concerning me, Constantine, the Destroyer.

“We need to talk,” Lex said. “We’re confused about something. Pull over somewhere.” 

I nodded and drove a couple blocks to the park. No one spoke. A.J. was staring at the floor, and it sounded like Lex was playing Angry Birds on her phone. I was losing it. It was strange, being that close to A.J., yet being so far apart. I didn’t like having our energies so separated. It felt—I don’t know—cold and empty.

She had her energy pulled in really tight. The tiny trickle leaking off her did nothing but taunt me with its sweetness. I had to fight to keep from jumping in the back seat, taking her in my arms, and sucking it up off her like a drug. To say nothing of just kissing her. She wasn’t mine. I had to remember that. Fortunately, I had the critic to remind me of it every frickin, five seconds.
Thanks a lot.

I found a spot and pulled over, anxiety snaking up my spine. “What’s going on?” I asked, finally.

“Um…how’s your brother?” Lex asked.

That caught me off guard. I didn’t speak for a moment. Then I hung my hands on the steering wheel, leaning forward to rest my head against my arms. I was at my breaking point, but I was
not
going to lose it in front of them. “Bad,” I said. “Seriously, frickin bad.”

“Bummer,” Lex said.

“I’m so sorry.” A.J.’s voice came softly from the back seat.

“It’s over,” I blurted out. “His brain is toast. They’re pulling the plug as soon as it gets dark.” My voice was muffled from talking into my wrists. I could barely keep it together at that point. My brother dying, my parents losing it, A.J. mad at me, and me without tree?
Not
a great combination.

Just when I thought I was going to totally crack, I felt her hand touch my shoulder. Warmth radiated from her fingertips, and I could hear her humming softly. Healing energy flowed into me. Instantly, the pressure lifted. I almost moaned out loud in relief. God, it felt good. My jagged nerve endings quieted down. The pain evaporated. My neck muscles unclenched and the feeling of dread dissipated. I took a deep breath and sat back with my eyes closed.

“Thanks for that,” I said. “I seriously miss my redwood.”

“You’ll see it soon,” A.J. said quietly from the back seat. “It it’s in my power to make it happen, I will. I promise.”

“Thanks,” I said again. God, I loved this girl. Even though she was mad at me, she still wanted to help me. How was I going to stand losing her? I took another deep breath and opened my eyes. “I was supposed to find a tree when I moved here,” I explained, embarrassed that I was such a basket case. “I haven’t had the time to deal with it. I haven’t made the time. This stuff with my family keeps draining me. Editors need to be near trees. I miss my mine. You can imagine.”

“I can,” she said, but that’s all she said. She removed her hand from my shoulder.

I turned to Lex, feeling better, but still unsettled. “I’m sorry, Lex, what were you saying? You guys were confused about something?”

“Let’s sit outside,” she said. “A.J. does better under the trees. So do you, apparently.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I’m not as good as A.J. is at pulling from just any tree. But having my feet on the ground is definitely better than being surrounded by a hunk of metal.” 

We got out and snagged a picnic bench under a large, white oak. The park was in full spring mode and the trees smelled incredible. There was a Tai Chi class out in the middle of the green, probably twenty people, bending and moving in unison. There were kites in the sky, the playground was full of kids, and some guys were tossing a Frisbee. A few yards away, three stoners were cracking up about something—who knows what—but they were practically rolling on the ground. Under a
Simpsons
sky, everyone seemed happy—everyone but us.

I sat down on the top of the picnic table and waited, anxiously. The girls sat down on the bench. Neither of them spoke. A.J. avoided eye contact, and that scissored through my gut like a hot knife. I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all. Even the critic was silent.

“We’re confused,” Lex said, finally.

A.J. said nothing. She just fiddled with her key.

“Okay…” I said, “about what exactly?”

“If we get Ipod back, and then A.J. helps you rewrite your timeline…” She paused and took a drink. “Say we get Ipod back,” she began again.

Yes, yes, I know, get Ipod back for A.J. Just throw it in my face, why don’t you?

She continued. “So Ipod’s here, and then A.J. goes and takes your message to the you of…what is it…six, seven months ago?”

I nodded.

“So then you’ll be back in your old life, right?” she asked.

I nodded again.
Yeah, just trade me for Ipod, and everyone will be happy.

“Well then, we will never have met, and we won’t know why A.J. is the way she is, and we won’t know how to rescue Ipod. We won’t know you, and we won’t even know that any of this has happened!” she blurted without taking a breath. “And A.J. will still be stuck in the olden days, and get raped by the gross guys, and Ipod will be in military school. That is
so
not cool.”

“Whoa…” I said, looking over at A.J.

She sat completely still, apparently waiting for me to confirm the horror show. So
that
was what was wrong. No wonder they were freaked! How had I missed explaining that they could still hold on to their timeline? Well, then again, how had I missed realizing that fixing my mess would result in me ending up away from A.J.? Forethought? Hindsight? Who the heck knew? Just another Constantine screw-up.

“Not exactly,” I said slowly. Maybe I could fix this…at least the ‘A.J.’s mad at me part.’

“What do you mean?” Lex asked. “Not exactly what?”

“I know how to do it so that you keep your memories and hold on to your timeline,” I answered. “Ipod’s rescue will remain, even though I would have never come to Colorado. A.J. will still be safe. It’s complicated but we can make it work.”

“Yes!” Lex pumped her fist in the air. Then she hugged A.J. who had tears streaming down her face.

How had I let that happen? I’m such an idiot! I
so
suck at forethought! “My bad,” I apologized. “I’m really sorry. There was just so much to explain—”

“No biggie,” Lex said. “It’s all good now. So, New Guy, elaborate.” 

“You okay, A.J.?” I asked. I couldn’t believe I’d screwed that up.

“I’m okay,” she said. “I’m really glad we were wrong. Thinking of Ipod in military school was just unbearable…to say nothing of losing all the stuff I’ve learned and getting stuck in the olden days. I guess I freaked for nothing. Sorry for that.”

“No problem,” I said. “Sorry I spaced explaining.”

“Spit it out, already,” Lex ordered, nudging me. “Patience might be a virtue, but it’s not one of mine. Rewrite the future for us, New Guy. Let’s hope your version is better than ours was.”

“It is,” I said. “The whole concept of time travel is incredibly complex. For instance, say you and A.J. go back and talk to my old self. Because you’re the travelers, you’ll have both the memories of this timeline and the timeline that’s there after you change things. The timeline you carried with you—meaning this one—will be dominant. Everything around you stays the same, except for what you change. Mine is the only one that will change completely. It’s not like you’re messing with
your
timeline, just mine.”

“So, we’ll stay the same here, even though in theory, you will have never come to Colorado?” Lex asked. 

“Yeah, but nobody else at Boulder High will remember me because the timeline itself will have changed.”

“How about you?” A.J. asked quietly, “I mean, since you won’t be traveling? Will you remember?”

“Well, that depends,” I answered carefully, avoiding her eyes. “If I’m connected to the tree when it’s active, I’ll retain the memories of the timeline. If not, I’ll just go back to my old life, where I didn’t screw up, and it will be like none of this ever happened.”

“So you’d delete your brother’s accident and getting shot and…all the bad stuff. You’d get your redemption,” Lex said.

“Yeah,” I answered, staring straight ahead. I’d get my redemption, but look at what I’d lose.

A.J. was silent. I wanted her to throw her arms around me and say there was no way I could just forget her, forget all we’d been through, that she wanted me,
needed
me there with her. But she just sat there, playing with her key. The silence began to get awkward.

“How about Ipod?” she asked, finally.

That cut deep but I answered anyway. “He won’t remember military school because he wasn’t tied into that trip, which is probably good as I’m sure it sucked big-time. For him, it will be as if it never happened.”

“Yes!” she said, sighing heavily. She leaned against Lex who put an arm around her.

“Let’s do this,” Lex said, getting up and heading towards the car. “Tick tock.”

We piled in the car. They huddled in the back together, and I sat up front, by myself, like a frickin chauffer. Everyone was quiet. I figured that they were both thinking about who they were getting back. I was thinking of who I was losing. A.J. didn’t say another word.

It was all I could do to steer the car.

The ride home was tense. Everyone was caught up in his or her own part of the drama. I knew Lex’s brain was whirling, probably thinking about getting Ipod back. Maybe she was rehearsing her talk with the Chihuahua. Maybe she was wondering how badly I was going to lose it when I lost Constantine. I didn’t know. She played Angry Birds, quietly, on her phone.

I laid my head on her shoulder, and she leaned her own head against mine and continued with her game. I just wanted to get home and do what needed to be done. I shuddered to think of Ipod in military school. I was glad he wasn’t going to remember. I realized that sometimes not remembering was best. I supposed it would be best for Constantine too.

Constantine just stared at the road. Too bad mindspeak didn’t let me know what was going on inside his head. Earlier in the car, the severity of his situation had become agonizingly clear. I’d been so wrapped up in my own stuff; I hadn’t realized the toll his stuff was taking on him. His whole world was falling apart. How could I not have seen it?

His only brother lay in a hospital, waiting to die. They were pulling the plug. I imagined Ipod in the same situation. If that were
my
brother in that hospital bed, I would be thinking of nothing else except how to save him. That’s why he was so eager to track me down. That’s why he came to rescue me. I was the way to get his life back.