Summer Eternal

“I’m going to miss this. Summer is just too short, especially in this country,” said Greg, “I mean, I’ve been in Toronto for over 20 years and I can’t get used to the cold. We get five months of winter for goodness’ sake!” The terse phrase was followed by deep laughter as he put a few more chicken thighs on the grill in the half-drum. 

We were standing out in a park, surrounded by woods. Their shadows were growing longer in the fading sunlight. I looked around and saw most of my fellow neighbors, gathered in the park for our annual End of Summer Street Festival, held every Labor Day. I stood next to the grill, patiently conversing with him about the weather as he prepared dinner for everyone, as he usually preferred to every year.

 “I know, right? I’ve lived here my whole life and I can’t disagree,” I replied, “Winter’s fun but it needs to be over by March." Pausing briefly to gather my thoughts, I checked my phone. It said 4:23 PM. “Speaking of over, when is that jerk chicken ready?”

“Just about now” He turned to the crowd of neighbors lying and sitting on the green slope below them. Some were sitting in the shade, playing board games. Others were lying out or playing volleyball, soaking up what remained of the summer sun. Everyone was smiling and chatting.

“Food’s ready, everybody.” 

They all perked up, and soon began moving towards the grill. Most formed a steady line but a few began to push ahead. One of them, a short teen boy, made his way to the front. 

“Hey, Joey, move to the back. You can’t be pushing people out of the way.”

“I’m hungry now, though!”

 “Who isn’t,” I said sarcastically. “Get back in line, kid.”

 Joey grumpily retreated into the crowd of over 40 hungry neighbors. They quickly scooped up plates full of chicken, pork ribs, pork sausages, sweet potatoes, corn, and callalloo. Joey eventually got his, thanked Greg, and moved along. I waited until most of the crowd got theirs before getting mine, and then retreating to a nearby tree to sit and eat. 

The rest of the evening continued smoothly, as everyone sat around eating and chatting. Some were playing chess or backgammon. A few were on their phones. But everybody appeared to concur on one thing: the weather was agreeable. 

“Of course, this would soon begin to fade,” a familiar voice opined to my left.

 “You mean the sunset, Laura?” I inquired, turning to face her.

 “That, and fall. All the students in school, everyone indoors most of the day. Sometimes I wish this season  would never end.”

I looked at her glum expression. She was holding an odd, blocky electronic device I had never seen before. My eyes slightly widened, trying to discern the function of this almost alien instrument. “The heck is that? I’ve never seen it before.”

 “It’s nothing, just a new mobile device I’m testing for the office,” she chuckled nervously, before quickly putting it away. “Anyways, that can wait until tomorrow. Work-life balance, you know? And it’s so hard sometimes. To just get away from the office and chill. Even harder to spend time with our friends and family. Everyone’s rushing around trying to get the next paycheck and I don’t blame them but sometimes it’s just exhausting. I mean, that’s why we’re all out here. When was the last time all of us got together?”

 She turned to face me, and became visibly annoyed when I didn’t respond. I was too busy filling myself with jerk chicken and sweet potatoes. I finally swallowed enough to say, “Sorry, I’m just so hungry, and I haven't had Jamaican food in a while. Anyways, I didn’t want to interrupt your long rant on social cohesion and all that.”

 “That’s not what I’m getting at!” Her expression began to soften when she realized I was trying to be amusing.

 “I know,” I whispered, trying to assuage her irritation. “Don’t forget you’re talking to someone who barely hangs out with anybody. I don't always get enough social time. But the end of summer doesn’t mean the end of socializing. After all, we have fall. And winter can be fun too.”

 “Ugh, you Canadians and your cold! It’s intolerable.”

 “At least construction season ends by then. Besides, you can always winter back home in Guatemala.”

 “But then I’d miss Canadian food,” she responded with a loud laugh. We both continued laughing, until the sunlight began to disappear.

 “We should start wrapping up,” I suggested, as I looked around to see how many neighbors remained. I tried to make out who still remained in the growing shadows. The shadows were beginning to shrink, until they were growing in the opposite direction. I turned back to see the Sun rising. From west to east. Dumbfounded, I couldn’t make sense of these events. It felt endless, yet so quick I forgot what was happening. 

 When I came to, everything seemed mostly the same. I remained in the same park, hearing what seemed to be the same conversations. I sensed some kind of déjà vu. I turned to Greg, still at the grill, as if I knew what he would say. He was sad about summer being over. Yet it no longer was over. I didn't know how I could know that.

Most stark of all was the sun; it was still high in the sky. I tried to gauge what could’ve happened. Was it all real? Did everything reverse? I looked at my phone and it indicated it was 4:23 PM. I accidentally let the cup of water slip from my hand onto the grass. I became more unsettled. Everyone else also seemed somewhat lost, at least mentally. They all frantically muttered, or looked around, or checked their phones, too. I tried to speak but the words remained in my head. I looked at my phone again as if it was going to present any answers to me. I finally closed my eyes for a few minutes, and just stood still, trying to recollect myself. 

“The last thing I remembered was chatting with Laura and then I was here,” I mumbled to myself, “or, I will be chatting with her? What in the hell is going on here!?” My voice began to become louder but I stopped myself yet again. Getting flustered does no good, I thought to myself, I need to think.

 I attempted to retrace my thoughts. Before the event (I'll think of a better name later), I was chatting with Laura. Or, I will be chatting with Laura. Jeez, I’m already confused. We were talking about the sunset, the weather, what else? I recall her acting cagey. Then I asked what that device she was holding, and she essentially blew me off. I straightened myself in confidence, only to then again become unsettled. How could someone I knew do something like this? I didn't even realize this was a thing that existed. And why would she do it? Why here? I noticed myself yet again panicking. Only she can provide the answers I need.

 I began searching through the crowd. Everybody was frantic. Yet no one seemed to realize why. I earlier observed everyone seemed to be going through the same routine as before, if before even existed anymore. Getting food, chatting, etc., but this was quieter. Too quiet in my estimation. The joviality of the previous picnic was gone, replaced by wide-eyed lack of direction. People were putting effort into their activities but no direction. 

I walked up to Joey, who was yet again pushing his way into the line. But rather than his typical steely determinism, he instead wore a face of wide-eyed, quivering confusion. Yet he still wanted to get his chicken ahead of everyone else, and continued to push people out of the way to do so.

 "What are you doing, Joey?" I inquired upon approaching him.

 "Um, getting my chicken?" he opined with rising intonation. He seemed to stop as everyone else did. 

 “Joey, don’t you sense something is wrong here?”

 “Uh, yeah, come to think of it. I…,” he trailed off before his eyes began darting back and forth.

 “Joey,” I said, raising my volume before lowering it. “You already did this, remember? Greg told you to go to the back of the line.”

 “Yeah, sure. But then no. Or maybe? I don’t know.” Joey crumpled under his own lack of surety. I decided not to bother him anymore and get to the answers needed. 

My eyes shifted back and forth, seeking Laura’s position. I sped up to Greg, who was flipping sausages on the grill. His face was sterner, and appeared less confused than Joey’s. “Where’s Laura? I need to see her.”

“You ever get déjà vu? Like you’ve been somewhere before? Or done something before? I cooked this brand of sausages for the last 18 years. Yet I feel I’m doing the exact same thing as before. Didn’t I already serve everybody? Yet they’re coming back for more. I don’t even know what I’m going on about.”

“I think I know how you feel. We did go through all this before! Something, or should I say, someone, is messing with us.” My expression became less frantic, and more severe, as I put my hands on Greg’s shoulders. “Somebody just reversed time.”

 “That’s the craziest goddamn thing I ever heard! But I think I saw it too. Or, I will see it? I don’t know anything. Except I’m confused as Hell!”

“We need to get them to undo it.”

“Sounds like you know who’s the guilty party.”

“I feel it’s Laura,” I replied, more serious than ever, but also downcast.

“Huh, Laura!?” He stepped back, as smoke began to rise from the grill. A shout of “Hey, watch out!” brought Greg’s attention to the blackening chicken wings, and he soon snapped into action, grabbing them with his tongs and tossing them into the bin. As he calmed down a bit, he put some more chicken on the grill. “It’ll just be a few minutes, guys!” he reassured everyone, despite some continuing to grumble. He was really trying to reassure himself more. He turned back to me, frowning slightly. “Laura? She’s one of our closest friends. Always shows up at events. You think she’s behind this?”

“Greg, I saw her, with some weird device. She said it was a new device from her office, but what if she used

that

to reverse everything?”

“I mean, I don’t know. I don’t want to think anyone here did something to hurt all of us.”

“Hurt anyone? On the contrary, I only helped us all!” Laura’s familiar voice arose from behind the two of us.

“Why, Laura? Why!?” I inquired, my voice quivering and becoming louder. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” She appeared genuinely dumbfounded by my question. “Toronto is so damn cold. Nobody here likes it. Nobody wants it to end. So I thought I’d give us a few extra hours of summer. Heck, maybe it could be days, weeks, or months. Just think about it: a whole new season!”