The Illusion

“It’s not up to us to give second chances. It’s not our right. We shouldn’t get a shot at playing God just because we have the technology and the money to, especially profiting off of it in front of an audience.”

Larry leaned over his beer and peered around to make sure no one was listening in the crowded brew pub that was clearly filled with too many hipsters entranced in their own problems to care about what was going on at our booth.

“Sean, if you had a problem with all of this, shouldn’t you have said something from the get go? I mean this is our ninth season and you haven’t said anything for nearly a decade. We’ve been friends for twenty years and partners for nine. What gives? You get a visit from the Ghost of Christmas Future and see our graves or something?”

I looked at Larry and then at the televisions in the pub that were airing advertisements for our upcoming live season of Second Chances.

“Look, we are both getting older and the richness of living with the fast cars and money is fading. I need to be able to live with myself at the end of my days. I think you are gonna want that too.”

“We air tomorrow, Sean. You are telling me about your conscience the night before? What do you want me to say? I sleep just fine at night. People know what they sign up for. It’s all in the contract before they sign on that dotted line that allows them to relive an experience they’ve lost sleep over. An experience that we are providing them. Doing them a favor. Giving them an opportunity to recover what they lost. I think you would want that too,” he said mockingly at the last line, pulling a swig from his artesian ale.

“You and I both know that they don’t know the cost going in and we never made it clear what the risks really are. Their NDA’s make sure they don’t say a word about it after either,” I said staring him straight in his deadpan eyes. In those twenty years that we’ve known each other, I had never seen him look so cold.

“And what are the risks, Sean? Because unless something has changed, we don’t know exactly what they are either. How would you describe them? Most people walk away from this show with second chances and gratitude in their hearts and the rest, well, they said they would give anything for another chance…” Larry shrugged as he lit a cigarette.

“I can’t do it anymore, Larry. Not after –”

“Samantha? After you had an entirely inappropriate crush on one of our participants and she met an unfortunate end that she had signed off on with the hope of making amends with her estranged daughter?”

“You weren’t there, Larry. There was nothing left of her. I was covered in her –”

“Sean, listen. Because we have been friends so long, I will cut you a deal. Finish out this season and I will let you go, contract gone. You need to stick around one last loop, though. Otherwise you are finishing your whole contract. And if you even think about running… well, let’s just say I might be using my second chance to go back in time and kill you and your whole family. I’ll see you in the morning. Thanks for the beer.”

Larry stubbed his cigarette out on the table, missing the ashtray entirely, and walked out in such a huff that even some of the hipsters gave him a glance over as he was making his exit.

Honestly, I was surprised. Theatrics had never been Larry’s style, but it seems like there has been a lot about Larry that has changed.

I paid the tab and made my way back to my incredibly expensive apartment where I was met by my incredibly expensive dog and then went straight to the bar without taking off my shoes to pour an incredibly expensive scotch. My wife had left with my two kids (both boys) two years ago and I had barely blinked. I certainly couldn’t blame her – I was never home and the kids barely knew who I was. I was sure then when she had given me the ultimatum between them and the show that I would stay on the program until the day I croaked. That was before Samantha.

I was there the day they had brought her in for her in person interview. By that point, the finalists for the show had already been picked, but needed to be approved by a partner in order to proceed with the show and sign off on any paperwork. Larry was never a people person (if you couldn’t already tell) and I never minded meeting with the participants, so I was always the one dealing with anything that involved any sort of conversation.

“Name, age, and occupation, please.”

“Samantha Rooney, 35, school teacher.”

“Thank you, Samantha. Tell us, why do you want to be on Second Chances?”

“Well, I… is this water mine? Would it be weird if I drank from it?”

I could hardly suppress a laugh as she started drinking from the glass before I could answer.

“If it wasn’t before, it is yours now, Samantha.”

“Sorry, I just get nervous in front of new people. Let’s see, where to start. I was sixteen when I was pregnant and gave my little girl up for adoption. I was young and didn’t understand the repercussions of my actions – I was just a child myself. I have tried contacting her through her adoptive family, who was open to me having some sort of relationship with her, but she wants nothing to do with me. I am devastated. If I could go back knowing what I know now, I would never have let her go.”

“Thank you, Samantha. That must be hard to share.”

“Please, call me Sam. It is hard to share, but I would do anything, and I mean anything, to go back and change the decision I made as such a young, confused girl.”

“Well, this is all just a formality, you’ve been officially selected for the show. I just need to be here with you while you sign paperwork. Do you have any questions for me before we proceed?”

“I am still going to do it, but I need to ask. Are the rumors true? I mean about the risks?”

“What rumors are you referring to?”

“Well, I mean, there are protests for the show because of the staff members that quit and they are saying that there are some dangerous side effects that aren’t mentioned.”

“Well, as with most reality shows, what you are signing doesn’t make us liable for anything that happens. Also, traveling through the time spectrum means there is still a lot of unknown aspects of the field. You can also see how it ends with the participants who have already been on the show where nothing goes array.”

“Has anyone died on the show? I just need to know.”

“In very rare occurrences, there have been fatalities, yes.”

Sam took a pause and glanced at the paperwork and the pen in her hand. She looked me in the eyes for what seemed like much longer than it probably was.

“I will be there with you when you go, Sam. Each person is assigned someone from our staff to accompany them that heads back once they are there safely and I promise you that I will personally go with you back to your second chance.”

The words were barely out of my mouth before I could register them. What was I saying? This was unheard of and Larry would literally rather cut off my limbs before allowing me to do this.

“Alright, then. I said I would do anything to get her back.”

The scotch wasn’t even beginning to numb my heart as the tears stung my eyes from the memory. The day of her second chance, I made sure Larry wasn’t in the studio or anywhere within driving distance. His secretary had scheduled him to be on a plane flying into Sacramento for a meeting concerning a Second Chances spin off reconnecting with former participants. He wouldn’t be able to see the live footage of me with Sam until it was too late.

She and I were both hooked up within the portal, silent as our time to go on the air was coming closer.

“I have a question, Sean. If all of this is live, how do people not hear about the deaths?”

“Well, it’s live, but there is a one minute delay. If something happens, we go black due “technical issues” and then give an explanation later as to why everything was cut short with that person’s second chance.”

“So, you lie. Like Joey last year?”

I was quiet for a second.

“Yes, Joey passed away or we assume he did. Most people – about ninety percent – are absolutely fine. Others experience issues during the time continuum jump to the past. The issues are always different. One person in the same portal as another might be fine and wakes up to see the other person torn in half. One person was burned. Joey just disappeared. Completely gone.”

Sam was quiet for a minute.

“Why did you say that you would go with me? Wasn’t it so much easier not thinking about this in your comfy chair behind your big desk?”

Now it was my turn to be quiet.

“I have spent years of my life on this show that has given me everything I wanted – success, power, money, fame, giving second chances to others without any thought as to the chances that were being taken away from those who have died fighting for a chance to do something in their life over. Desperate for any chance to make things right or take a different path. I have never cared about any of that since the show started, but now all I have when I go home at night is my scotch and perfect view and I feel… nothing. With every dollar I made and every person’s life I risked without a thought, I was giving away a piece of myself I would never get back until one day I woke up and realized I was completely hollow.”

“How do you know that this will make you feel anything?”

“I don’t. I’m not looking for that. I just want to try to make amends while I am still here and able to.”

“And you think playing martyr would do that? Why not make actual change with all that money you have? What’s going to happen to it if you die? It will go to your partner that will invest even more into this show that is secretly killing people. It seems to me your head is pretty hollow, too.”

I must have looked at her with such shock that she burst out laughing. Deep, belly laughs that tickle the soul. The moment was contagious and soon we were both on the floor in tears with aching stomachs from the much needed comic relief of the moment.

“Alright, Sam. Let’s goggle up. It’s almost time.”

We both sat in our seats and buckled up, pulling our goggles on to shield our eyes during the journey. Cameras would come on in five minutes.

“Hey, Sean? Just remember. There really isn’t such a thing as second chances. Just moving forward.”

I went over to add more scotch to my glass and glanced at the clock, noting I would have to be up in three hours time.

After we made the jump into the continuum and I started to wake up, I realized I couldn’t see even with my eyes open. I went to pull at my goggles and felt nothing but wet in between my fingertips.

“Sam? You there?”

“Sean, this is Tom over at IT. Just stay put, we are going to bring you back. Don’t move from your seat and keep your goggles on.”

“What? Why? Sam, are you okay?”

“Sam didn’t… she didn’t make it, Sean. Just sit tight and don’t move while we bring you back for clean up, okay?”

Wet. Everywhere was wet.

Blood.

They didn’t let me remove the goggles until I was taken out on a gurney to be checked at the hospital. I was covered in her blood.

Sam’s blood.

A mother who would do anything to have the chance to tell her younger self what she would regret doing when she was older.

A very rare occurrence that happened on the show that I helped create and thrive.

I may have been clean when I went home that night, but there was still blood on my hands.

My alarm went off and I made the call I was unsure I would have the courage to do until it was already happening.

“I am going to wire you the rest of the money now. It needs to be done within the next hour.”

I smashed my burner phone and waited for the call to confirm my partner’s death.

No more illusion of second chances. Just moving forward.