Authors: Lilla Nicholas-Holt
Time
to return to reality
. He
snuggles down in his blanket, closes his eyes and pretends to be
asleep when the authorities approach his crib.
Jack
was back at his computer again.
“Yes!”
he said out loud, punching the air. “Phew, it was close
though,” he laughs.
A
lmost
about to get up from his computer, Jack was alerted by another
message:
“We wish to
continue our research. Please be aware that this exercise is
top-secret, and all instructions should be carried out in a proper
manner. It is imperative that our research program not be tampered
with in any way. Doing so can bring about serious consequences and
may alter the course of history for the operator. It is a pioneer
program, and does not rule out misadventure inadvertently instigated
by the operator.
Please
do not attempt any solo journeys
.
There are viral instigators from Jovian who may try to intercept
you, tempting you to undertake solo journeys, which may lead to
self-destruction. It is vital that you exercise discernment.”
“Self-destruction!”
Jack said aloud. “Bloody hell!” He remembered the black
Volvo Estate with the number-plate JOVIAN and wondered if they had
anything to do with the ‘viral instigators’.
They
must have hacked into my computer
,
Jack thought, now realising that a third party was watching him.
“We
wish to continue our research. Are you in readiness to proceed?”
the message went on to say.
“Yes,”
he typed.
“Please
apply virtual reality device and type in a date and duration of time
as 19 September 1993 - five hours.”
Jack
wondered why they had requested a date this time, but typed it in
anyway, feeling somewhat hesitant about the length of time away.
Jack
finds himself at eleven years old in a room filled with people, his
parents celebrating their fifteenth wedding anniversary. His cousin
Josh sits beside him. He immediately begins looking for his mother,
firstly recognising her outfit: a dark blue twinset she had bought
especially for the occasion. Jack is in awe of her, but once again
tells himself not to rush up and smother her with kisses. After all,
he knows that eleven-year-old boys don’t do that sort of thing.
He admires her from a distance, marvelling at her hostess skills.
Jack’s father appears by his mother’s side, placing his
hand protectively in the small of her back while they chat to another
couple. Jack becomes aware of the respect his dad has for his mum,
and hopes his own eventual marriage will be the same. He tells
himself he will see to it.
His
mind wanders to Megan.
What
if…
There is a
definite mutual affection between them, but the prospect of marriage
seems too bizarre to him.
Far
out!
he says to himself,
realising something. There is an uncanny likeness between Megan and
his mother. The same green eyes. Also their mannerisms are similar,
he thinks. Megan has golden blonde hair, his mother a dark
strawberry blonde. Jack shrugs it off, considering it a silly notion
as he’s aware that Megan is like a ‘mother figure’
to him even though she is two-and-a-half years his junior.
Maybe
it’s because I miss Mum so much,
he reflects.
And
here he is, able to see and hear his mother, a magical memory that he
is actually reliving.
A
relative approaches him and asks him to pass around the hors
d’oeuvres. In doing so he catches sight of his reflection in
the lounge mirror. Jack had forgotten what he looked like: a
medium-sized eleven-year-old with dark brown hair, a haircut in a
modern 1990s’ style, a haircut that his schoolmates also
sported. He thinks he looks pretty cool. The zits hadn’t
broken out yet - they were yet to come. Oh, the years he’d
agonised over those. Even today, the odd scar from his teenage zits
still remain.
His
father comes up to him, startling him. “Jack, I want you to
accompany me on the guitar, a piece for our friends.”
“Sure,
okay, dad," he replies, hiding the surprise in his voice. Jack
had been learning the drums, and wasn’t bad at all, his father
eager to show off his son’s talent. After Ben’s
introduction of what they intend to play, Jack is away. Everyone
starts clapping in time and tapping their feet. Jack is quietly
thrilled to remember how to play. A couple of people begin dancing,
encouraging others up, the small lounge eventually bursting at the
seams with dancers. Jack beams, wondering if he’ll make it
into a band somewhere.
Get
a grip!
he says to himself.
He realises it is easy to get confused between the real world and
this whatever-it-is situation he keeps finding himself in.
After
they finish, Ben Dunlop organises stereo music, and the atmosphere
grows more and more charged as the night wears on. Jack is having a
ball, dancing with all of his cousins.
Nancy
Dunlop talks with her younger sister Pippa, whom she hasn’t
seen for some time. Jack can see them in deep conversation in the
kitchen. Hovering by the doorway, he sees his aunt hand a photo to
his mother. Nancy then cups her hand over her mouth. Jack backs
away as he doesn’t want them to see him. He tries to mingle
with the others, but feels concerned for his mum, and also somewhat
curious.
His mother and aunt
join their guests again, and are once again smiling and laughing. As
it is nearly midnight Jack starts to feel weary. His younger cousin
has already fallen asleep in the spare room and there is no-one else
to hang out with anymore. He puts himself to bed after saying his
goodnights.
In
a while, Nancy comes into his room to tuck him in. Jack sleepily
asks her, “Who was in that picture that Aunt Pippa was showing
you?”
“It’s
a photo of Katy,” his mother replies, looking surprised. She
quickly tucks in the sheets, giving Jack a kiss on the forehead.
Jack
lies there for a while thinking about his cousin who died of
leukaemia at the age of eleven. This wakes him, and he feels an urge
to look at the photo. Stealing into his parents’ bedroom Jack
finds his mother’s handbag, and rummages through it. Back in
his room, Jack switches on his bedside lamp. The photo of the young
girl takes him by surprise. She has beautiful green eyes, olive
complexion and honey-blonde hair.
“Far
out!” he says aloud, discerning that her smile and Megan’s
smile are one and the same. Her hair is lighter, much lighter, but
the image before him, he thinks, is a cross between his mother and a
very young Megan. He puts the photo carefully back into his mother’s
handbag and returns to his bed, his mind spinning.
He
drifts off to sleep.
Jack
found himself back at his computer with a message awaiting him.
“Thank
you for participating. There is a very important message in your
last virtual reality experience. Please progress carefully, and once
again we stress that you do not partake in any self-instigated
journeys. Please await further instructions that will be issued
within the next twenty-four hours.”
Chapter 2
T
here
are a few things to find out,
Jack considered. He arranged to meet Megan in the park.
A
row of ducklings follow their mother around the lake; an endearing
scene. As he waited for Megan the sun’s warmth brought about a
pleasant feeling, a promise of good things to come.
Megan
arrived carrying a flax bag full of goodies for lunch. Jack felt
lucky to have a gorgeous Kiwi girl like Megan.
She
enjoyed doing all the picnic stuff as it brought back memories for
her, when she and her mother made lunches for all the stockmen then
deliver them out on the station in the old farm ute, a welcome sight
for the horsemen who had been up since the crack of dawn rounding up
sheep. She arose at five a.m. to help her mother organise a hearty
breakfast for them, then once the dishes were done they started
making the sandwiches. It was hard work but Megan enjoyed every
minute of it, while other girls of her age were busy with their
friends.
In
those days Megan was blossoming into a beautiful young woman. The
younger stockmen thought that in a few years’ time she’d
be prime stock, but knew if they overstepped the mark they’d be
out of a job, so they kept their thoughts to themselves. Besides,
old man McGlew could be a tough old bugger at times, and certainly
wouldn’t put up with anyone taking a shot at his ‘baby’.
And they sure didn’t want to get on the wrong side of him.
All in all they had a pretty good working relationship with Megan.
Jack
gazed at his girlfriend, contemplating that she had the most stunning
smile, and became filled with pride that they were actually an item.
They sat on the grass and ate their lunch in silence, with Jack
wondering how he was going to raise the subject.
“Megan,
your parents are Scottish, aren’t they?” he broached.
“Dad
is,” Megan replied, “why?”
“No
reason,” he lied. “It’s just that after all this
time I still don’t know your family that well. Just thought it
would be nice to find out the heritage of my sweet Scottish girl.”
“Oh,
I’m
not
Scottish. I was adopted, but Dad is
definitely
Scottish, and he’s got
the McGlew temper to boot,” she laughed. Jack contained his
surprise.
Dennis
and Barbara McGlew were nice enough people, now in retirement. Their
age portrayed them rather like grandparents than parents to Megan.
Jack had surmised that they would have been well into their forties
when Megan was born.
“Megan,
you never told me you were adopted,” he almost accused.
“Well,
I never thought it would bother you,” she curtly replied,
looking suddenly annoyed.
“Oh
sorry, I didn’t mean to… Your other brothers and
sisters, are they all adopted too?” he asked cautiously,
attempting to sidetrack the situation.
“Nope,
just me. They’re all a lot older than me, too. My eldest
sister is eighteen years older, and when she started having children
I was only four, so they were my playmates. They’re all
biological McGlews, but I don’t see myself as being the odd one
out because they’ve treated me like a normal sister. My
parents are paying top dollar for a good education too. My brothers
and sisters all went to ordinary schools. That’s why I’m
nearly at uni now. I’m really clever you know,” she
grinned.
“Why
were you adopted?” Jack blurted, but then quickly apologised.
“That’s
okay, I guess,” Megan replied, looking slightly mystified at
him. “My mother was involved with Women’s Refuge. She
took an interest in one girl, my bio-mother, who’d gotten
herself involved with a pig of a man, my bio-father, and ended up at
the Refuge. I think she was a hippie, into drugs and sex and stuff
like that,” she grimaced. “Mum has never kept any
secrets from me, but I actually never really wanted to know. What’s
past is past, and I’d prefer to think that I came from a nice,
respectable, well-to-do family and not some hideous background. I’m
quite happy with things the way they are. Okay?”
Jack
knew he had to stop the twenty questions, knowing he was touching on
a taboo subject.
Quit
while you’re ahead,
he
cautioned himself. They spent the rest of the day walking around the
park, holding hands.
J
ack
noticed the black Volvo parked across the road again. The two
occupants hadn’t seen Jack return home, and seemed to be
engaged in something.
Probably
their laptop again
. Jack
bolted down his driveway and across the road, startling them when he
knocked on the window. The man in the passenger seat promptly closed
the laptop and removed his headphones.
A
surge of adrenaline shot through him. “Would you two jerks
mind telling me what’s going on? Are you spying on me?”
he demanded. Jack was pumped and spoiling for a fight.
The
smaller man spoke in an accent so strange that Jack could barely
understand him. “Do not alarm yourself, young man, we are not
here to harm you. We have a mission that we must carry out, that we
do not expect you to understand. Your privacy is safe with us.”
The
driver didn’t say a word.
Maybe
he doesn’t speak English,
Jack
thought. He stared at the one who spoke.
“Bugger
off! And keep away from my place! I know you are somehow meddling
with my computer. If you don’t, then I’ll get legal
advice,” Jack yelled at them, though he knew he couldn’t
do anything about it.
What
would I say to a lawyer - There’s someone messing with my
computer and telling me to change my history and shit?
The
small man calmly responded, “Do not attempt to put an end to
our mission.” With that they drove away at such a speed Jack
didn’t think was possible.