1
“You’re shitting me.”
“I shit you not.”
Jason shifted around in his seat as if he
had irritable bowel syndrome. His eyes darted every which way, from the
waitress held together by a tortured corset to the obese man on his third
shrimp sandwich, trying to see if he could see it too.
“So you know everything I’m going to say?”
“Everything.”
“Bullshit,” we spoke at the same time. He
raised his eyebrow and crinkled his nose.
“Yabba dabba doo. Skittle-lee-winks,” we
said in perfect stereo. His fingers wrapped around his fork and prodded his
half-eaten chicken sandwich. The poor thing would never get eaten by him at
this rate.
“I fucked your sister!” we yelled, and
sadly, I knew it was true. A few eyes turned our way. Jason slouched back in
his seat and eyeballed the room.
“Do her,” he said, nodding to the obese
waitress. I turned to look at her; she was collecting cups from a group of old
men in bowler hats.
It’s
not like I had to really focus or anything for it to work; it just worked. I
gazed at her refrigerator-shaped form, and in an instant, she broke off into a
million different people, some clearer than others. This was the part I hated:
discerning which one would happen.
The
clearest one traveled along, some ghosts in tow, as it clomped towards the kitchen
with the tray in hand. One of either two things would happen based on the
actions of the flirtatious bowler hat men around her: she would skid over the
bit of spilled water on the tacky yellow tiles, or she would fall on her back,
the tray would fly in the air, and her corset would burst apart like two people
who made a drunken mistake but don’t much care for each other. I was hoping for
the latter.
“She’s going to skid over that water
spill,” I said to Jason with a frown. They never do the ridiculous falls. Jason
looked over my shoulder as the sound of the rhino’s heel squeaked on the water.
“Oops!” said the waitress with a nervous
chuckle. The cups shook on her tray. “That would have hurt.”
Jason’s golf-ball sized eyes turned to me.
I had the sickest urge to throw one of my fries in his mouth just to close it,
but that would result in him choking. Probably a bad idea to kill my best
friend.
“Dude.”
“Yeah…”
I looked out the window. The goddamned
Doopers were out again, trolling around on the sidewalk. It’s not that I mind
their presence; hell, they’re great, but I hate the way they look at me and at
skyscrapers. They look at me like I’m their goddamned savior, and they look at
skyscrapers like that fat guy a few seats down looks at a sirloin steak.
“How’d this happen?” asked Jason,
scratching his idiotic rapist mustache. He’ll shave in three days once he gets
the nursing job.
“You remember that day a few weeks ago when
I brought home that bag of carrots by mistake, and we already had that first
bag of carrots in the fridge?”
Jason stopped scratching. Just shave it
now, god damn it.
“Of course not.”
I sighed. This was going to sound
ridiculous.
“Well, I figured that it would be better to
eat all the old carrots since I brought home that bag of new carrots-”
He’s going to interrupt.
“Wait, you’re saying that you can see the
future because you ate a shit-ton of carrots?”
I hate when I’m right.
“Let me finish.”
Jason slouched back in his seat.
“So, I ate all the carrots we already had.
That was like, thirty carrots man. That night, I started seeing weird shit. I
started seeing all these ghosts and stuff walking out of my body and doing
things, and ghosts walking out of your body and doing things, so I freaked out,
just like one ghost did, which is when it hit me: I was seeing the future, but
not just the most certain future: I was seeing all futures.”
He leaned forward again. At this rate, he
might actually get in a decent workout.
“So dude, what you’re telling me is that if
I eat a ton of carrots, I’ll be able to see the future?”
Being patient with conversations is the
worst.
“No, and trust me, I’ve seen the future
where you eat a lot of carrots. You just end up with orange-colored crap.”
He leaned back again, but rebounded
instantly.
“Wait, you saw that future?”
Okay, I’m cutting this conversation short.
“Yes, and before you ask, I’ve seen every
possible future for the next four days, no I don’t know how exactly my brain
sorts it all out because it just does, and yes, there is a future with you
eating a crap-ton of carrots and subsequently crapping orange the entire night.
It wasn’t just the carrots, it was something in that specific batch of carrots,
though I don’t know what and I don’t see any future, at least not yet, telling
me that answer.”
His eyes searched the table. There were
actually multiple questions that were probable at that point, but they all
depended on whether or not I spoke or if the monster truck of a waitress came
by just in time. To not speak would probably be better; after all, he’d just ask
me about the goddamned Doopers if I mentioned them, and they’re too goddamned
intense. At the same time, I have no idea what to do with them.
“You boys doin’ okay?” asked she-Hulk. I
should stop being so mean. Her name is Alberta, as in she comprises one-fifth
of Canada. That poor, poor corset. If it had a mouth and lungs, it would
scream. I turned to her and smiled.
“Yeah, thanks ma’am.”
Jason was still searching for a question.
He only nodded and she clomped away to go terrorize Japan. Jason finally found
his question, just like I knew he would.
“So does this mean that you know lottery
numbers?”
Shit, it leads to the goddamned Doopers
anyway.
“Yes, and no, I’m not going to game the
system more than I already have.”
Jason’s eyes went wide and he grinned.
“That’s how you’re fucking all those
girls!” he yelled, pointing a finger. Eyes turned once more, though I couldn’t
help but grin as well.
“You see the future, you clever bastard,
and you talk to them in a way so that they respond to you. You clever bastard.”
He leaned back in his chair, shaking his
head with that stupid mustache extending with his smile. Leave it to Jason to
completely ignore the philosophical and scientific implications of this ability
and focus only on the fifty-seven women I’ve slept with since I gained this
ability. Oh, don’t worry, I foresaw no happy ending with any of them.
“You’ve got to wingman for me, you clever
bastard you. But why not play the lottery, man? You’re a sure thing!”
I bowed my head. God damn it, he wasn’t
going to let this one sit.
“Because there is so much more going on
right now,” I said, leaning on the table. My food was getting cold, but it
sucked anyway. Jason leaned in close like he wanted to hear a secret. He wasn’t
going to hear about my minor lottery playing.
“Like what?”
“Fuck. It’s the goddamned Doopers, man.”
A nude mariachi band could have walked up
to Jason and started blaring Besame Mucho in his ear, and he still would have
stared at me with his confused ogle.
“Doopers?”
“Yes, the goddamned Doopers. Look outside.”
He turned his head to the bustling street.
A few people in suits argued on something over their phones. Only one of them
was getting laid that night.
“What do you see, Jason?”
His eyes danced from person to person, from
building to building, from car to car, but he had no idea what I was talking
about.
“Of course you don’t see them,” I said,
preempting his obvious quip. “They’re one second in the future.”
He turned back to me, still the look of
baffled consternation on his face. At this point, I would have preferred the
naked mariachi band.
“They’re what?”
“They’re these aliens, see, and they’re
like, three feet tall. Gray skin, three eyes, four legs, some of them look like
kids who have had too much LSD. They’re called the Doopers. Those little
fuckers are here protecting us.”
“From wh-”
“From the Asheeyo.”
“The wh-”
I look forward to my quiet masturbation
time tonight.
“These big dickhead conqueror aliens who
come to planets and fuck shit up.”
I popped a fry in my mouth. No use in
letting this shitty diner food go to waste. Jason was still trying to wrap his
head around what I told him. It would take him a few seconds, so I picked on
some of the chicken on his plate and ate it. Not too terrible, actually. I
might get that to go.
“Wait wait wait,” said Jason, shaking his
head. His mustache looked like a speedy caterpillar. “There are actual aliens
on Earth?”
I nodded and ate more of his chicken.
“And they’re here protecting us from other
aliens?”
“Yep,” I said.
“And you’re cool with this?”
Of all his possible responses, I didn’t
think that one would be the most probable.
“No, I’m not.”
I grabbed his entire sandwich and bit into
it. Pretty nice. It’s got a hint of paprika. I should definitely get this to
go.
“But, if they are here protecting us, why
aren’t you cool with it?”
This sandwich was too good. I don’t know
why Jason wasn’t eating it. There really is no way for him to understand the
magnitude of what’s going on with me. God damn it, there has to be someone more
intelligent I can talk to in the distant future.
“Becauf,” I said with a full mouth, “they’re
not being totally honest wif me.”
A bit of chicken flew onto Jason’s plate.
“About what?”
I shrugged and ate more of the sandwich.
“I ‘unno.”
His next question would possibly open him
to greater philosophical possibilities, or he’d just let it go and not bother
to think on it. Being patient sucks.
“So, wait,” he said, leaning forward once
more, “why not game the system more than you already have?”
I swallowed a bit of chicken. There was
still some bread stuck to my teeth. Worst feeling in the world, man.
“You need to imagine all lives as taking a
pre-set course along a planned route, kind of like a road trip. All your
decisions are already made for you, all that’s necessary is to drive it. That’s
kind of what I’ve discovered about individual human timelines. We are, on this
Earth, pre-ordained, and I hate to use that word, to make every single decision
in our lives the way we have in the past and will in the future.
Jason stared at me, bug-eyed.
“Now, because I can see every single
possible decision someone could make, including my own, I can choose the
least-probable decision, meaning that I’ve drastically changed that
pre-ordination. That means I’ve upset the natural flow of the world, because
there most certainly is one. Just the other day I stopped a kid from wandering
into the street, where he would have gotten hit by a car and died. I created an
entirely new timeline on this Earth. Do you understand that?”
He probably didn’t, though sometimes I give
him too little credit.
“Now, these timelines intersect where we
meet others,” I continued without looking into his ridiculous face. “Because
I’ve chosen to interact with timelines I would not otherwise, in all
probability, have interacted with, I have, again, upset the natural future of
the Earth.”
I wouldn’t have been surprised if Jason had
shit his pants.
“So-”
“Yes, I’ve seen all outcomes of this
conversation, yes I am extremely patient with everyone, though sometimes it
wears on me, to be honest. There’s no easy way to really describe it except to
say that I’m omniscient when it comes to the immediate future.”
He leaned back and stroked the pedophile’s
watermark on his face. Come on, Jason, I know you can come up with the right
goddamn question with me prodding you.
A
car honked outside and I glanced at it while Jason ruminated on his existential
quandary. Two young, attractive people, very much in love, put their luggage in
the trunk of a cab, and in the moment before they entered the back seat, I saw
the end of both their romance and their lives. I turned back to Jason.
“Before you say anything, look outside.”
Jason turned his head, expecting to see
some goddamned Doopers.
“See the cab?”
He nodded.
“Ten seconds after the cab driver takes
off, the brakes will fail and all three of the people in that car will die
because they won’t be able to stop at the light.”
Jason turned a sickly pale.
“Now, I have two options here: I stay here
and talk to you or I go out there and perpetuate three timelines that wouldn’t
otherwise exist past fifteen seconds from now. What do I choose?”
“You, you save them?”
“Why?” I asked, and if Jason’s jaw had
dropped any lower, he’d have to go to the hospital to get it reattached.
“Why? Why? Because, because it’s right!” he
yelled, and some eyes turned to us. I smirked. The cab drove away, and Jason was
ready to explode.
“What makes it right?”
“You’ve got to, you’ve-”
The crunch of metal and screams from the
street interrupted him. A few people turned to look outside. Jason only stared
at me.
“You could have-”
“I could have, yes, but again, I’d create
unforeseen timelines. I saved the kid because it was a gut reaction and because
I thought I knew what ‘right’ was. But is it right to completely negate what is
supposed to happen to save a life that has unsure meaning in the future?”
He was confused. Understandable. A few
people ran past our window towards the accident.
“Do you believe in multiverse theory?” I
asked Jason. He still had no idea what I was talking about. “Do you remember
all those alternate-universe stories from sci-fi and comics?”
He nodded, his expression an unsure mixture
of constipation and shock.
“Well, I’ve come to believe in it. How can
I not? I see all the goddamned choices we can make. So, in another universe
where I have this ability, I made the decision to go out and talk to that
cabbie to tell him that his brakes were faulty. I apologized to the couple for
delaying them, and then I lied, saying that I was a mechanic and I realized
that there was a faulty alignment on the wheel, whatever that means. The cabbie
and I talked some more, and of course, I used my foresight to stop him, and
eventually he called a tow. The couple lived.”
Jason scratched his head. He should grow
his afro so he could be a funky man-nurse.
“But how do you justify all this?”
It always came down to this.
“I don’t. I try to maintain the integrity
of the future, but I’m capricious, kind of like Zeus, except I don’t hurl
lightning bolts and I don’t impregnate women. Sure, I use my ability to get a
girl to sleep with me, but that’s a minor alteration of the future. Reversing
death is a shockwave. It upsets the balance of our universe. Someone is alive
who shouldn’t be. That means that everything that person does will have an
unaccountable ripple effect throughout all time, even if it might be as minor
as the introduction of another genome.”
He sat back and folded his arms. I couldn’t
help but envy his position of utter ignorance, but at the same time, I’d rather
not have that ugly mustache. Sirens blared in the distance as still more people
ran towards the accident. They were already dead at this time, but at least the
last thing they saw was each other.
A
Dooper walked up to the window and waved at me, though only the top of his
prickly head reached the window. I waved back, and Jason tried to see what I
was waving at.
“What-”
“A goddamned Dooper,” I said as I smiled at
the stupid thing. Stop looking at me like that, asshole. It makes me
uncomfortable.
“This is heavy, man,” said Jason, sitting
back. Lady Juggernaut marched over to our table.
“Anything else, darlins?”
She glanced at Jason, who was about ready
to vomit.
“You okay, darlin’? You’re not lookin’ too
good.”
He looked at me with his sunken eyes for an
answer. Great, this is my new use: a personal Dear Abby. I nodded, only
thinking about what unpleasant dreams I’ll have tonight. That always happens
when I see death.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” said Jason, a meek
smile stretching out his mustache. I swear, I could have drawn that thing on
with a pencil.
“And you, darlin’?”
“Yeah, can I have what he had to go,
please?”
“Sure, dear,” she said with a grin. Her
cheeks were probably hiding nuts for winter. She wrote down my order and got
ready to go to the kitchens, but the sirens from all the police cars and
ambulances grabbed her attention.
“Say, you know what’s goin’ on out there?
Sounds like something big happenin’ on the street,” she said, pointing out the
window with her sausage of a thumb. For a second, my eyes dared to follow one
of her less likely decisions for later in the night. I no longer wanted to make
fun of her.
Jason
glanced out the window every so often and then to me, trying to come up with
some response that might accurately convey everything I’ve told him into a sentence.
There was no need really, because there was always just one word that ever
needed to be used.
“Life,” I said, and with a puzzled squint,
Alberta walked off to the kitchens to place my order.
post chapter 2!
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