Seven million Mississippis

What my mother had told me that day remained an unshakeable pillar of my life long after she was gone. “You can never, never tell anyone”, she emphasized in a gentle voice. We were leaving the park at sunset, and her face was bright and loving that day, a memory of us I would go back to now and then. “And you can’t use it again. Promise me. I’m sorry things have to be this way”, she had added.

We never spoke about it again and I went on having a normal, relatively blissful childhood and adolescence. Sometimes during tests at school, it occurred to me that I could just stop time, browse books, cheat off of my colleagues to make the perfect paper for myself, and then get back to reality and into academic success. I thought about stealing and then pausing time just enough to cover all my tracks. I made elaborate plans about all the ways I could be richer, smarter, and more successful if only I’d use my ability from time to time. But I promised I wouldn’t.

When I met Nikki, I knew immediately she was someone I wanted to be with. She was beautiful, insightful, and warm. At that moment, I was obsessed with the American show The Office, and we met in the corniest way, at a sitcom pub trivia. It was really sweet, and we started a relationship three months after that night. I had a wonderful spring, high on the sweet optimism that comes with feeling in love. Things went fantastic for more than a year, and all this happened by just being a regular guy; time flowed just as fast for me as it did for other people. I felt so lucky. I introduced Nikki to my dad and my aunt, whom I was close to. They both loved her, stressing how happy they were for me, adding that my mother would have been so proud of me. I was in my early 20s when she lost the fight to cancer, but I had made peace with her sickness and held a lot of love for her. The one thing that remained unresolved was that she was the only person who knew my secret - the whole story of what had happened to me.

I had a vague memory of a wonderful, long afternoon at the park. I must have run for ages through and around the leafy grove sheltering the playground. The climbing walls, the lookout towers, the sand pit – they were all props for my imagination. My mother was reading her book on a bench, a big sunhat covering her head. A moment of serene, uncomplicated childhood happiness. I don’t remember what happened next; every time I try to think about it, my mind freezes. I remember starting to feel sweaty. Tired. Frightened; terrified later. My mother was just reading her book and I’d sob, later wail next to her. Eternities would pass and she would not turn the page. The next thing I remember is her holding me with teary, worried eyes, reassuring me, squeezing me in her arms. And then asking me to promise I’d never do that again.

When Nikki suggested moving in together, just one thing was holding me back - my occasional enjoyment of gambling. I had a good job, so of course I was playing money I could to spare. After a more substantial win, I’d force myself to take a break and invest in something else for a little while. I wouldn’t linger in a casino after taking a bigger loss but rather call it “not my day” and move on. I’d schedule my indulgences, which made me feel in control of my guilty pleasure. 

Predictably - in hindsight - the satisfaction eventually stopped being enough. One thing that changed is that I met Jimmy and Rufus, two truly-odd guys who introduced me to their underground poker network. The nights playing there were unique, full of surprises, the mix of people lured there really bizarre. Some players looked like real gentlemen, most likely rich conservatives who could not take the shame of their family finding out about their little hobby. They played alright but had moments when their fingers just couldn’t resist betting a huge amount after having folded a few hands. I took one of these guys’ fancy watches at some point. Some folks looked utterly broke, a hunger to win in their eyes. I found out the hard way they were the most dangerous players. I tried not to speak much during games, even though people would get drunk and in each other’s faces. Jimmy and Rufus would try to haze me, and tell people how they rescued me from the slot machines. Later in the night, they’d cuss at each other loudly, and I would try to cash in the distraction of the table and bluff boldly.

One of those nights, I found myself experiencing the panic of a very tense moment. At first, I was happy, ecstatic - I was finally going to propose to Nikki. And since I had a couple of hours to kill, I reckoned a quick game of poker couldn’t hurt - it might as well be my last one. But with happiness often comes foolishness, and in a moment of impulsivity, I found myself raising the bet by tossing the engagement ring into the pot. The two gentlemen in expensive suits changed their countenance - they had taken notice of how lavish and expensive the ring was. Rufus and Jimmy also realised it and soon enough everybody was deep into their cards, eyeing up the sparkling piece of jewellery I had planned to give to Nikki that evening. I was about to lose the hand. I had perhaps thought that playing the ring would be like getting a sign from the universe that our marriage was meant to be. Or that the fear of near-losing the engagement, symbolically and literally, would only make me want it more. Instead, I was sweating heavily under my shirt, waiting for the dealer to put down the last card, imagining my savings of two years end up in Jimmy’s clammy hands. He’d most likely pawn the ring and lose the money within a month.

I got wasted afterward and hours passed in a haze. I went outside of the basement to puke in the alley. It was still dark, but I had a vague feeling, like a taste in my mouth, that the sun was about to

rise. I took my phone to check the time in disbelief. Twelve missed calls from Nikki; of course, we had dinner plans. I had picked a romantic, intimate restaurant to pop the question at. I imagined her

waiting for me all alone in a beautiful dress, trying to keep herself from staring at the entrance door or at her phone. Being annoyed at first, ordering herself a cocktail. Getting worried after an hour, even more so after two. She had sent me many messages, some of them paragraphs long. I was too intoxicated to make out much of the blurry screen. I felt sad, sorry. So, in another stupid, impulsive

moment, I decided to follow Jimmy and get back the ring.

I didn’t have a plan while walking behind him. He was moving slowly, in a drunken stumble. After a few minutes, he turned around in a narrow alley close to the canal. Startled, he muttered something and stepped towards me. Without any warning, a pain stronger than anything I had ever felt before nearly knocked me to the ground. I closed my eyes, surrendering. When I opened them, Jimmy was just standing there, one drip of saliva in the corner of his mouth as he was just about to press his lips back together. A definitive, all-encompassing silence struck my ears. Even the darkness felt thicker. I stepped forward to make sure I wasn’t under the spell too. No, I had cast the spell. And I had broken my mother’s promise.

I opened Jimmy’s jacket and found the ring in his inner pocket, along with a couple of hundreds

folded negligently. I hesitated to take them. It felt strange, unnatural to touch this human being in this state. His body was all vulnerable, petrified in front of my eyes. I left the bills; my fingers didn’t want to linger. I stuffed the ring deep into my pocket and put myself in a natural position, a few steps away from him. Now I could just give Jimmy some drunk excuse and leave quickly. He’d think the ring fell out of his pocket, and I could rush home and make things up to Nikki. I rehearsed what I was going to say, and sought out the quickest way out of that alley. My heart was pounding, and I was ready to unfreeze time.

But nothing happened.

I stood still and waited, imagining all my thoughts focused on putting time back into motion.

But nothing happened.

I began thinking of my mom, asking her to help me. To forgive me for breaking my word. To turn things back to normal.

But nothing happened.

I started walking home, away from the canal and into the main streets. If Jimmy ever confronted me about the ring, I’d mock him about getting so wasted and I’d walk away. Yeah, it was an airtight plan - it’s not like he could go around and tell people that one moment I was in the alley with him and the next I vanished from in front of his eyes. I’d go to sleep, get back to reality in the morning, and sort everything out.

On the main road, the entire world was holding its breath. I fought hard to keep my cool. I was like an alien walking through a museum documenting 21st-century London. All cars were stuck in place, people minding their own lives completely frozen as if sitting for a painting. In the blink of an eye, they could all spring back to life, filling the vacuum with engines roaring, radio, and late-night chatter in front of the pub. I’d always thought I’d find such a moment of silence, of shelter from the undeniable passing of time, comforting, healing. I’d longed secretly for it my entire life. But walking down the streets, the only heartbeat in a world stopped cold, an immense burden was weighing on my chest. Like in a dream, I started remembering what my mother had explained to me.

“It’s a great gift, a wonder. It can make the difference between misery and bliss, between life and death. It can make you feel like the world is in the palm of your hand. It’s what

makes it so tempting”, she sighed. She then looked down, light leaving her face for a moment.

“Once you freeze time, you can’t just unfreeze it. Time simply picks a moment to carry on. Could be days, weeks – and nothing changes, Tony. You just wander, the world in a light sleep. Years, decades could pass.” She teared up, holding my hand. “There was no way to tell.”

I felt a knot in my throat. I turned more vigilant with my surroundings, making sure time wouldn’t just move and have a car run me over. I began running, panting, thinking if I could just make it home, somewhere safe, somewhere I could collect my thoughts, everything would be normal again.

In front of my house, a man was blocking the entrance, with one of his feet already outside, his body pushing against the door. I had to squeeze between him and the wall, fighting hard not to touch his inanimate body. I looked at his face from up close and gazed into his brown hollow eyes under stuffy dark eyebrows. A cold shiver crawled up my back. Upstairs, I jumped into a steaming shower. I tried to wash myself off the spell, off the memory of the night. 

Back in my room, I put the dormant clock next to my pillow, ensuring it would be the first thing I saw when I woke up. I laid down and imagined the light of sunrise warming my cheeks, the hand of the clock happily ticking away again.

But I couldn’t rest. The exhaustion started to wear off, but my body never drifted away into sleep. I stared at the light green ceiling, my mind consuming itself. I went through all my memories, dreams, fears, remote corners of my mind. I felt I could suddenly remember everything, like I could just rewind through the motions of my life. I waited more, and more, my eyes glued upward in a moment that stretched infinitely, but the clock remained still at 5.35 am. 

Eventually, I got out of bed and decided I mustn’t despair. The situation was out of my control, and it would be sane to make the best of it, with caution. I crafted a letter for Nikki apologizing, explaining everything. Everything except my secret. I cleaned my apartment. Read books from cover to cover. Put all my affairs in order. There was no way to tell how much time had passed, so I found myself often counting one Mississippi, two Mississippi, …, to create an inner sense of time. For what I can only guess was five weeks, I kept on doing safe things that would make my life after unpausing so much better. Learning, working, creating. I missed the sun. I never slept, ate or drank, but my body didn’t seem to care. I was always careful not to put myself in a position to get arrested or into trouble if everybody suddenly woke up. One night, in a dark corner of a bus station, I saw a man trying to harass a woman. I grabbed his body by the handle of his backpack and shoved his face on the ground. I walked away, revolted.

It occurred to me that freezing time was the biggest gamble I could make. And just like with gambling, I felt compelled to risk more. I started stealing things, my heart pounding, expecting time to resume in an epic moment of karma. I was ready to get out of there; planned beforehand so the crimes could not be traced back to me. I broke into houses in the posh part of the city, and spent time in their swimming pools and jacuzzi, laid on their comfortable mattresses. I kept myself away from people. One night, I broke into the National Aquarium and jumped in the penguin water tank. I couldn’t tell if I was breathing or not. I swam around, staring at those wonderful creatures I’d always found so cute. For a moment, I felt happy.

But despite my best efforts to remain contained and grounded, the more time my mind passed in that void, my thoughts became riskier, my inner world lonelier. Walking through familiar places, all I saw was a cruel photograph of a life I used to have. Even Nikki was starting to feel like a stranger. I broke into her home; she was frozen on her sofa, watching a show with the lights off; her phone, and a bottle of wine on the coffee table. I cuddled next to her. I couldn’t dare touch her, violate her trust. I just stood there, sometimes talking to myself, sometimes crying, sometimes ruminating over lies I could tell her about how I ended up inside her flat. One time, I put on a T-shirt of hers, its smell of her shampoo making me sob, and tried to hug myself.

Having Nikki’s ghostly company helped for a while. I’d go outside, try to get back into my hobbies or work, and then come back to her place, and sit next to her like we were watching a movie together.

Were things going to be the same ever again? Things will, but you won’t, a thought in my mother’s voice responded.

I felt angry at her for not having warned me better. Maybe she had hoped I would forget all about it, that it would be safer for me that way. Or maybe no matter what, it was inevitable for me to fall onto this path. I wondered if she had frozen time herself when she’d heard her diagnostic, make sure she could say she lived before it was time to go.

My mind became more fragile. I’d go on top of buildings and scream my lungs out in the void, no sound ever returning to my ears. I couldn’t let go of the feeble hope that time would move on once

again. If I did, I worried something in me would shatter uncontrollably, and I would do unspeakable things. Or kill myself, if it was even possible to die. I felt decades had passed, my life in solitude accounting now more than my life as just another human being on Earth. I had waited more to start living than I’d actually lived.

After a while, I broke down completely and isolated myself in Nikki’s tiny bathroom. I crouched down with the lights turned off and rested my head against the tub. My memories had long become too painful to go through. I started voiding my mind. Waiting.

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi. The sink faucet was leaking, the dripping sound of water piercing my eardrum like a Chinese water torture. Five Mississippi, six Mississippi, … with each count my forehead lightly bumping into the cold marble - the smallest movement to remind the universe I was still there. Nine Mississippi, ten Mississippi…

*

“Tony, what are you doing here?!”

… two hundred thousand and twenty-seven Mississippi…

“What happened to you?! Your head is bleeding.” A pair of warm hands grabbed me gently. Their perfume swept through me, like an electric impulse, a reverberation of a long-forgotten memory.

“Tony, come up with me, let’s get you to a hospital. Poor thing, you must have been lying here for hours.”