Life

Jason Allen stood on the corner at a busy intersection in Nashville, with a sign that read “Homeless Veteran. Anything Helps”. He wore a dingy grey shirt with a black Nike logo, faded denim jeans-stained brown at the knees, and a worn leather belt fastened tight against his ever-shrinking waist. Jason wasn’t really a military veteran; he was just working an angle.

The location was ideal. The intersection where he stood was at the end of an off ramp from a major interstate in the heart of downtown. It was one way, with a left turn lane which led to the heart of the business district. This position gave him access to beg money from the driver.

Jason shifted his position so he could make eye contact with the driver.  He put on a sad smile, with a subtle, pleading look in his piercing blue eyes. Years ago, those eyes would stop a woman in her tracks. Today, with his ragged beard, unkept hair and dirty clothes, those same eyes made him look crazed and psychotic.

Most people did their best to ignore him. They either stared straight ahead or looked down at their phones. But the click of the electric car locks always gave them away. The light was short, so he had to move fast. Time was not on his side as he raced against that ever-growing void that threatened to take over his mind and body. The void left behind by heroine. The first wave of which, had already hit.

He continued down the lane, and as he approached the third car, a black Tesla, the window came down to reveal a man in his mid-sixties with gray balding hair. He looked Jason in the eyes and smiled.

“Get in the car if you want to change your life”, the man said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Jason hesitated. “Did you say ‘get in’?

The man continued, “If you want to change your life, yes. You will be fed, cleaned, clothed and paid one hundred dollars. You will be asked to do nothing criminal. But you need to get in the car now, as the light is about to change. If you don’t take the offer, I will find someone else. Are you happy with your life?”

“No, not really. How long will this take?”, Jason asked.

The man’s smile broadened, and he said, “Well, that’s the beauty of it. In the end it will take no time at all.”

Jason felt another wave of withdrawal wash over him. The Jones, he called it. He shuddered, and the man took notice.

“This is your opportunity to be free of that torment. Come with me, son.”

The light turned green and the cars at the front began to move. Jason calculated his situation. Worst-case, he got a shower, food and some money. If the guy wanted sex for money, Jason had done that many times over. If the guy ended up killing him, the world would not notice his departure. He had nothing to lose. He moved to the back door and opened it, and as he climbed inside, he was grabbed by a thick calloused hand, and yanked the rest of the way in. He was so focused on the driver, he hadn’t noticed the man in the back. And it was a big man.

The car sped away before he was fully seated. The big man reached over, grabbed the seatbelt and secured Jason in the back seat.

“This is Carmine- a gentle giant unless provoked”, the driver said, ‘He will not harm you unless you try to harm me. But after you hear my offer, I doubt you will want to do that.”

The car proceeded to turn left, go under the overpass and turn back on to the highway.

With arms bigger than Jason’s thighs, Carmine was an imposing figure, even seated in a car..  

“Where are we going?”

“We are going to my estate outside of town. There you will be cleaned, clothed and fed, as promised. Surely, you’re hungry, no?” 

“Not really. What about the money?”

“You will be paid as soon as you clean up”, the man said as he cracked the windows to let in some fresh air. Carmine grinned.

The Jones hit again, and Jason grew irritated.

“Look, I’m gonna be honest with you, Mr….”

“French, the driver replied, “Dr. Phineas French.”

“Look Dr. French. I’m a heroine addict. I’m not proud of it, but that’s what I am. If I don’t get my fix soon, it’s going to tear me apart. How long is this going to take?”

“How long it takes is entirely up to you. But I will be as candid with you as you have been with me. I am an inventor and research scientist. The project I am working on now deals with time- time travel to be exact. What I am offering you is an opportunity to go back in time to the moment you made the life-changing decision to try heroine and rectify that. Are you intrigued?”

Jason laughed. “Are you insane? That’s impossible.”

“I assure you I am quite sane, and it is quite possible.”

Jason looked at Carmine, who shrugged.

“Fine let’s get this over with”, Jason replied.

They drove for about 20 minutes and exited the highway. Another mile and they turned onto a country road in a hilly, wooded area. At last, they came upon a gate, and Dr. French pushed a button on his steering wheel. The gate slid open. They proceeded through and the road wound up a hill and came to an opening that revealed a beautiful, well-kept brick mansion. The driveway formed a circle around a fountain in the front. Dr. French parked the car and the men got out of the car. As Jason stood up, two Rhodesian Ridgebacks sprinted out of the shadows and stopped between Jason and Phineas. The dogs smelled Jason’s fear and growled.

“Easy, girls”, said Dr. French. The dogs relaxed but remained alert.

“This is our friend ….” His voice trailed off as if to ask a question.

“Jason. My name is Jason.”

“Very well, Mr. Jason. You are our guest. Let’s get you cleaned up, shall we?”

The men started for the front door, flanked by the two dogs. Jason felt more like a prisoner than a guest. But while he was confident that he could outrun Carmine, the dogs were a different story.  He also had no idea where he was, so he didn’t know which way to go.

“Might as well play this out”, he said to himself.

Just as they approached the front door, it opened, and they were met by a man who appeared to be a butler.

“Welcome home Dr. French”, he said.  His eyes swept across the men and settled on Jason, whom he gave a disdainful look. “It appears we have a…guest.”

“Indeed, we do”, said Doctor French. “This is Mr. Jason. Let us prepare him a feast and find him some decent clothes. Carmine will escort him to the guest quarters, so he can bathe in comfort.”

Carmine led Jason by the arm through the marble foyer and up the curved staircase. One of the dogs followed at their heels. Artwork adorned the walls, as they ascended to the second floor. They proceeded down a long hall with high ceilings and doors to many rooms. Carmine stopped in front of a door, opened it and remained in the hallway.

“Clean up. We will wait here and hand you your new clothes when you’re done.”

Jason entered the biggest and most opulent bathroom he had ever seen. The floor and walls were covered in stone tile, and the sinks and countertops were of marble. Towels of every size were stacked neatly in rows, and a white robe hung from a hook near the shower. There were no windows. He removed his clothes and started the shower. Hot water rained down from two shower heads above as Jason stepped inside. He couldn’t remember his last hot shower, and this one felt good. His right hand was trembling as he reached for the shampoo. The Jones was getting stronger and void was growing bigger. All he could think of was getting a fix. He lathered up, rinsed off and cut his shower short. He would love to stay in there all day but he had to meet a certain need.

Carmine slipped the clothes through the door and Jason tried them on. They fit very well, and he almost didn’t recognize himself in the mirror. Carmine led him downstairs to the dining room. A beautiful spread was laid out before him. Meats, vegetables, breads and desserts of many varieties. This set Jason off.

“I TOLD YOU I DON’T WANT ANY GODDAMN FOOD! ARE YOU PEOPLE DEAF? LET’S JUST GET THIS FUCKING DONE AND TAKE ME FUCKING BACK!”

With that, the dogs were between Jason and Dr. French, and Carmine grabbed him from behind. Dr. French issued a command to the dogs, in a different language, and they sat at attention. Carmine remained where he was.

“I’m sorry”, Jason said, as he calmed himself down. He could feel his heart pounding.

“Very well”, said Dr. French, “I understand that’s the heroine talking, and I take no offense. Please understand that I am offering you is a chance at redemption. An opportunity to go back in time  and correct your mistake. For if you can change the past, you can change the present. Dr. French let that simmer for a moment and added: “But there is one caveat: Both versions of you cannot exist in the same timeline for more than about an hour. When that time is up, you will find yourself back in this timeline, in the world you created. So be very careful what you do. Even the slightest shift, could alter the present greatly. Do you remember the time and place where you made that choice?”

“Yes”, Jason replied, “My buddies and I went to Vegas for my 30^th birthday. A friend we grew up with moved there after college and had a business providing VIP experiences for high rollers and bachelor parties. He set us up at the MGM Grand. While we partied at the pool while he got everything ready in the room. It was supposed to be just strippers and blow, but things got out of hand.”

“What was the date?”

“I was born 7/27/79. I don’t know what year it is now.”

Dr. French nodded and led the group to an elevator. The door slid open, and they got inside. Jason’s heart raced as beads of sweat formed on his brow. The Jones had taken control. They stepped off the elevator into a dark room, lit only by computer screens and dim recessed lights. In the center of the room there stood a comfortable-looking chair, with straps on the arms.

“Last thing”, Dr. French said. “Please stand over here. We will need a picture of you so we can make a driver’s license. With that you will be able to get a room key from the front desk. Just say you lost yours.”

“What about the money?” Jason asked.

Dr. French handed Jason a brown leather wallet and a watch, which he put on his wrist. Inside were five crisp $20 bills. Carmine then handed him a driver’s license, the laminate still warm.

The Jones hit again, and Jason was overwhelmed with a horrible feeling.Dr. French motioned for Jason to get in the chair. As Jason sat down and Carmine buckled him in, he was struck with a revelation. If this time travel worked, it might be quicker to get a fix there, than it would be here. He knew the guy would have it. But then again, if he were able to get hold of it and flush it down the toilet, he would be free of this pain. But what if the doctor was wrong and it didn’t go away? But surely it would, right? He hoped it would work.

“Let’s go.” Jason said.

“Remember, you have one hour, and the decision you make there will affect events here.”

Dr. French pecked at a keyboard and the time machine sprang to life. The room filled with a purple glow. Jason looked up and saw that the source of that glow was a satellite dish above his head. Waves of purple light pulsated toward him from the dish. He had the chair arms in a death grip as the shimmered and pulsed. He closed his eyes as his body vibrated like an earthquake.

Then everything stopped. When he opened his eyes, he was seated in a chair in the lobby of the MGM Grand. His watch read 6:30pm. He and his friends would still be at the pool, and his friend Jim would be in the room getting things ready. He made for the check in line, and after a brief wait, and verification of his ID, he had a room key. As he began to walk away he realized he didn’t know the room number.

“I’m sorry Miss, I’ve been partying and can’t seem to remember my room number.”

“2362.” she said with a smile.

Jason nodded and made for the elevators. He pushed 23 and nothing happened. A couple joined him and he watched them swipe their card and push 16. He did the same and the button lit. He put his hands in his pockets to hide the shakes. As the elevator went up he wrestled with what he was going to do- flush it or shoot it.

When he got to the room and hesitated. He was about to walk in on someone who likely wasn’t going to recognize him. Did he need a story? What would he say? The Jones was at its peak and about to unleash.

“Fuck it,” He said to himself, “I know he has it. I’ll just mug his ass.”

He raised the card in his trembling hand and steadied it with the other. The green light lit and he turned the handle. When he entered the room, no one was there. The room was just as he remembered. A sprawling suite with a sunken living room. Kitchen on the right, two bedrooms to the left. As he stepped into the room, a man came out of one of the bedrooms, and looked up startled.

“Can I help you, pal?” the man asked.

“It’s me, Jason. Jason Allen.”, Jason stammered, as he continued deeper into the room. “You remember me, right?”

The man’s face was a study of bewilderment. The voice matched, but the grey hair and beard were 20 years too old. When the men locked eyes, confusion was replaced by recognition, then denial and ultimately fear.

“What the hell happened to you?” was all Jim Dougherty could manage.

“YOU happened to me!”

“Me? What did I do? What are you talking about?” Jim asked, still holding the box of liquor. He looked like he was about to faint.

“It’s not what you did, it’s what you are going to do,” Jason said with impatience. “Tonight. So just gimme the goddamn heroine. I know you have it!”

“Jason, you’re not making any sense. What the hell is going on here?’ What are you talking about?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

With that, Jason lunged for the man, murder aflame in his steel-blue eyes. Jim dropped the box of liquor as he dodged the attack-the bottles spilled to the floor. Jason slipped on one and fell face first but managed to get hold of Jim’s ankle. It wasn’t enough to take him down, but it was enough to slow him, and allow Jason to scramble to his feet and lunge once more. This time his aim was true, and tackled him to the floor; vengeance and drug-lust fueled his rage. Jason climbed on his back and struck him in the side of the head. One, two, three times. He then rolled him on his back, pinned his shoulders to the ground, and struck him twice in the nose.

“I know you have it! Just give it to me and I’ll let you go!”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jim said through a mouthful of blood.

“I don’t have time to play games! I need it now!” Jason struck him again and again. All of his pent-up hostility, rage and resentment, came out in a torrent of blood and fists.

From the corner of his eye, he saw two women dart for the door. The strippers. No time for them right now-his hour was almost up. He turned back to the man on the floor, who didn’t appear to be conscious.

“This makes it easy”, he thought to himself as he emptied the man’s pockets on the floor. Wallet, cocaine, a metal straw and a lighter. No heroine. He searched the inside pockets of his blazer and there it was! The Jones was rushing over him like a waterfall. This was the moment of truth. Either he flushed it down the toilet, and healed himself, or light it up on a spoon in the kitchen. He held it in his hand as he weighed his options. Just then, the room began to shimmer, and his body started to vibrate. His hour was up, and he was going back.

“NOOOOOOO!!!”

When it all settled down, he found himself in a room. A cell to be exact. He looked at his arms and saw they were tattooed. And muscular. His shirt and pants were orange. He no longer felt the pull of The Jones, and its absence was prominent.

“Where the hell am I?” he asked himself.

A man in a cell across the way laughed, and said “You’re in paradise.”

“What am I doing here?”

The man cackled louder than before and said, “LIFE!”