"You really don't remember , Zachary?" Her voice was soothing.
"Remember what?" I felt soothed. But I did not want her asking anything of me. I could do nothing. Nothing but sit and watch her lips move, sit and listen to her soft voice, her 11pm jazz DJ voice.
"Isn't my voice familiar?" She asked.
"Are you the DJ on WJAZ? Are you Jessica Simone?"
"Zachary," she shook head slowly. Right. Left. I could hear her almost add "Tsk tsk."
"You sound like my grandmother, actually." I said. I wanted to go back to soothing. She got me to accept, without understanding. Now, I didn't want to understand.
"Well, that's because you're scared," she said.
"Well, you're not helping when you react to my thoughts like that." I said. "Bitch." I didn't say.
"Be nice, Zachary. I'm trying to help."
Not soothed, not scared, pissed off, now, again, but not quite to the point of turning her off again. I didn't want to find that I couldn't. Okay, still scared. And quiet. I'd now remain quiet.
"That's better, thank you." It really was just her mouth moving. "We met a long time ago, Zach. You've changed. But, we were friends. Good friends."
Just listening was good. Focusing on her mouth moving, on her Jessica Simone voice.
"We went on a lot of adventures together, got in a lot of trouble, got rescued, did some rescuing," she said.
I was trying to see, with the 'e' sounds in words like "adventure," "friends," "together," if she had a tongue-ring. Sometimes I thought so, sometimes I thought it was just a weird off-color pixel.
"Do you remember?"
"No."
"Do you remember a shiny, bright place? A hard-to-look-at place? Called Wemoreland?"
"No. Yes. No. I don't know. It sounds familiar. I've never been there, though."
"You've visited. Followed maps, found treasures. Solved puzzles and untangled riddles. You walked a long long way and found blue elms. "
"Oh. Right. And I suppose I won the princess?"
"Yes. You did."
"Oh. Then. I lived happily ever after?"
"Yes. We did."
"Then what's this? Now?"
"This is after happily ever after."
"You're so full of shit." I didn't say. I wasn't convinced enough she was. Though, obviously she was. Full of shit. I couldn't quite say it though. But, I knew she heard it."
"None of it's up to me, Zachary. I'm not full of anything. I'm just one of Patrick's surfaces."
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2 comments:
"Are you the DJ on WJAZ? Are you Jessica Simone?"
For some reason, I LOVE this. I can't tell if it's because I think he's pulling real-life people into a hallucination, or if it's because it's so improbable that it's funny (and, more embarassingly, something I'd do.)
Focusing on her mouth moving, on her Jessica Simone voice.
I love this more than the lines above.
Also, I cannot wait to see where you're going with this. I'm guessing two things:
1. Zach did too much acid in college and is now paying for it all in the worst way possible.
2. Zach is a D&D, role-playing game dork and a paranoid schizophrenic to boot.
But I'm still stuck on who Patrick is, could be. (You could give me a hint if you'd like. I wouldn't mind, you know, finding one here or, let's say, in my inbox.)
I'm starting to think this is why you pulled the "You Should Be a Science Fiction Writer" option from that quiz, yeah?
1) I don't know where I am going with this. I'm not even sure if I know where I've been with it. It's just fun.
2) I like your ideas. I like best 2).
3) yes, indeed, patrick is the key. And, honey, when I figure it out, you'll know.
YES! Isn't that funny! The only science fictiony thing I've written is here on my blog and it's the blog thingies that peg me as an SF writer. Does cyberspace know more than I do about me? Am I Patrick?
(oooh, there's an idea).
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