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I felt like I didn’t belong anymore. I’d not picked up any agency shifts at work for over a week. I’d turned my phone off and all I seemed to do was eat, sleep, watch car crash television and repeat. No one had heard from me in a whole nine days, and I hadn’t heard from anyone else either. I would order take out most evenings and continue to eat junk food throughout the day if I was awake.
I took to the bathroom to brush my teeth, as I’d not brushed them in days. Looking in the mirror, I smoothed over my newly grown beard with my hand; my hair was a mess and I’d got dark circles surrounding my eyes. I looked rough. I felt rough. I was depressed.
It had been a while since I had felt like this. Years, in fact. I recognised the symptoms of depression, but I didn’t even care about trying to do anything about them.
When my parents died, I’d hit rock bottom, and if it wasn’t for my friends getting me the right treatments and being there for me, getting my medication, making sure I was taking it, taking me to my therapy appointments and just being there for me, I don’t think I could have done it, they were amazing.
Where were they now I asked myself as I flicked on the television, sitting just in my underwear and a fleece blanket draped over my shoulders. It was 5 pm and I had just woken up. I opened the pizza box from the night before and ate two slices of cold dry pizza while flicking through the channels. Opened bottles of Budweiser were dotted around the sideboard with the photo frames of Mum and Dad. I grabbed at them one by one. The third bottle had some remnants in it. I took a swig and used it to swallow the dry pizza.
Outside through the window, I could see old Mr Williams struggling with his wheelie bin. I normally bring it up the drive for him, from his back garden. His front garden has some steep steps in it, I could see he was really struggling, but I didn’t even feel guilty sitting there watching him.
Most TV channels were still talking or referencing iLUMiNO. I just kept on changing the channels until something none related came on.
I threw myself back in my chair, rubbed my hands through my hair, and I could feel tears beginning to pool in the corner of both eyes.
I just wanted this horrendous situation to work its way out, once I could prove I was innocent as iLUMiNO, then I could concentrate on my friendship with Barkley. These were my priority thoughts, but I wasn’t getting anywhere.
I wiped my tears and continued to watch Mr Williams struggle.
“Take me to a safe place,” I said to myself. Then I cried out, louder and angrier, “Metatron, take me to a safe place!”
The room faded, disappearing like the pixels of a computer screen going out one by one. Each light became white. I was sitting in my same armchair, still in my underpants with the fleece blanket wrapped around my shoulders.
I was in the neutral zone.
“Metatron?” No reply.
“Metatron!” I shouted.
Nothing.
I stood up from the armchair and suddenly I was in my bedroom when I was a kid.
A Keanu Reeves movie poster called Chain Reaction adorned the wall. It was peeling off on one corner. I slowly pressed it back into place as I was trying to work out what was happening.
“What's going on?” I said to myself.
My bedroom was directly above the kitchen, and our floorboards were so thin I could sometimes listen to every word spoken in the kitchen below. I could hear my mum in the kitchen downstairs singing along to the radio. I imagined her swinging her hips and dancing along to the tracks as she went about her morning. The sweet smell of bread wafted in under my bedroom door; she was baking again. Walking across to the bathroom, I could hear my dad, from the direction of his voice I could tell he was probably sitting at the kitchen table. He was chuntering to himself. The newspaper's rustle was loud. I could hear him shuffling the paper upstairs as he said the words Tony Blair followed by some expletives. Mum’s reaction was typical of her.
“We’ll have less of that language at my kitchen table,” she said, followed by the next verse of the song she was singing.
The calendar on the wall in the upstairs hallway showed it was Thursday the 31st of July 1997. I was twenty one today.
But I was more concerned about what was happening.
“Metatron,” I whispered. “What's happening? Where am I?”
“You're in the Neutral Zone. You know where you are,” came the mesmerising familiar voice. “Time as you know it has stood still, but while you are in here, you can work things out, get to the bottom of things. You know this already, that’s why you are here.”
“I'm home” I said. This is the day my parents die, I don’t want to relive that day ever again.”
“Then don’t. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. But your mind, your consciousness, brought you back to this moment. Maybe there is something to take away from it. Observe it as it happened, like an invisible fly on the wall watching the pre-recorded scenes unfold, or relive it as it happened, embody your entire existence as a twenty one year old.”
I looked at the calendar again, and with a crack in my voice I said, “I’m going down to see mum and dad again.” Metatron smiled at me before he faded away. I looked in the mirror and I was young again. I was wearing an Independence Day t-shirt from the movie. I used to wear this t-shirt to sleep in since it had gotten bleach down one side. I pulled it up closer, it had the same bleach splash marks.
“Aaron,” Mum shouted upstairs. “Are you coming down, Birthday Boy?”
“Coming Mum”, I said. My eyes filled up with tears of love. I wiped them from my face and descended downstairs.
I entered the kitchen and stepped up to Mum behind the sink. I put my arms around her, placing my head on her shoulder, and we slowly rocked to the rhythm from the radio.
“I love you Mum,” I said.
“Someone’s woke up a different person that’s for sure,” Dad said as he lowered his paper.
“I love you too Dad,” I said.
“Are you looking forward to your birthday BBQ?” Mum said wiping down a mug with a tea towel.
“I bet he’s more looking forward to going to York for the weekend? Aren’t you, my son?” Dad smiled.
The hug and love that I felt from my parents enveloped me like bubbles on top of water, there was no getting away from it. It was bliss. I let the scenes run their course. I knew that I was still Aaron Abbey, 43. I knew that I was still sitting in my living room in 2021 in boxers and a fleece, but this scene was magical. I just embraced it and went with the flow.
When Dad said, “I bet he’s more looking forward to York,” the scene changed. It was a week earlier and I was on the phone to Lottie.
My friends had arranged an overnight trip to the city that weekend.
Lottie was good at arranging things like this; she was like a project manager, booking our hotel rooms, taking deposits, arranging free drinks at various clubs and no doubt some surprises along the way. She would keep me up to date most evenings on the house telephone. So far there was me, Lottie, Leigh, Barkley, Penelope and Brenda who had decided that York was the place to be on the weekend of my 21st. She would be on the phone nearly every night, and Dad would go mad asking who was paying for the call. It wasn't until the week before, during a phone call to Lottie discussing York and the various pubs and clubs we were to visit, when mum took the phone out of my hand and said to Lottie. “Why don't you all get together next Thursday on Aaron’s Birthday. You can all discuss it together then, can't you?” She handed the phone back to me and smiled.
Lottie was more excited than me. “Ooh, that's great. I'll let the others know!” she said her voice an octave higher. “What time? Ask your mum what time.”
Mum answered back before I could even ask her.
“12 pm.”
“Twelve o'clock,” I said.
“Great, see you then,” she was just about to hang up, then I heard. “Aaron, Aaron are you still there?
“Yeah, I'm still on the line.”
“Do I need to bring anything?”
Placing the phone on my shoulder, I turned around “Mum, does Lottie need to bring anything? Food? Drink?” I asked, assuming this is what Lottie meant.
“No love, me and your dad will sort it. We’ll get the BBQ out, won't we?” she said, looking at my dad, making decisions on his behalf. He nodded.
Putting the phone earpiece back to my ear, “No, you're good Lottie, just bring a big fat present for the birthday boy, that shall suffice.”
We both laughed, “Great, bye.” I could hear the tinkle of the bell on her phone as she slammed it down before it went to the dialling tone.
I stood there and thought about how young her voice sounded.
I phoned Barkley to ask him what he was going to wear. “Jeans and a t-shirt,” he said.
“Shoes or trainers,” I asked.
“Shoes, in case, were not allowed in a club with trainers on.”
“Oh yeah,” I said. “Do you fancy meeting me in town? I want to get a new outfit for York, and I'll need some new shoes now come to think of it.”
“Sure,” he said. “Why not. I'm not buying anything though, I'm broke. Lottie has cleaned me out, hotel money for York and your birthday present. I've got enough for York though, so don't let me buy anything.”
The colours of the room swirled and faded; and I was back in my bedroom on the morning of my birthday.
I'd bought a new pair of Levi's jeans, loose fit, and an oversized white long-sleeved shirt with vertical stripes in blue, green, brown, and red. I was to wear this open with a white crew-neck t-shirt underneath.
Mum must have heard the water running in the bathroom as I brushed my teeth. The kitchen tap would bang when the pressure was released if someone used the sink in the upstairs bathroom. Dad had been going to fix it for years, but never got round to it.
“Aaron,” she shouted upstairs. “Would you like a cooked breakfast?”
“No thanks, Mum. I’ll just grab some toast, if we're having a BBQ later. I don't want to over-face myself,” I said as I threw on my dressing gown.
It was really weird being inside my own body saying things that I know I said all those years ago.
I rushed downstairs to find a pile of cards and some presents on the kitchen table. Dad always wrote my birthday cards; sometimes, he'd write a funny verse inside. There was a biro and some writing paper with doodles and scribbles on the table next to his folded newspaper. It was evident that he had just written on my card. He sat there with his arms folded.
“Come on then,” he said, open your cards.
Mum placed a cup of coffee down and a slice of toast with jam, no butter, cut into triangles in front of me, just how I liked it.
Dad tapped a blue envelope with the biro from the table as Mum turned around to watch as I opened it. The front of the card read 'Happy 21st Birthday Son' in gold embossed italic writing.
On the inside in bold black print, it read ‘Happy 21st Birthday - Have a great day!'
Underneath Dad had written a verse, I was expecting it to be funny, and borderline rude, maybe some toilet humour as is usually the case, but it wasn't like that at all, not this time, it read...
Son, we are so proud of the man you are growing up to be.
You will always have our unconditional love.
Happy 21st Birthday to our beautiful son
Love from Mum & Dad.
“Deep for a Thursday morning,” I said with a bit of a lump in my throat.
“It's true,” Dad said.
I wanted to tell them that I had read Dad’s poem about coming out. I wanted to tell them that I was from the future. I wanted to tell them not to go and collect my surprise birthday present.
I knew it wouldn’t work. This wasn’t real life anymore. It was a copy, like a recording. I was pulled from my thoughts.
“Now your present is not quite ready,” Mum said, moving my plate to the side and wiping my toast crumbs from the table with a bleach-soaked dishcloth.
“Whatever it is, you shouldn't have,” I said, licking the jam from my fingers.
“You won't be saying that when you get it,” Dad said, screwing the used writing paper up into a ball and throwing it into the bin with a direct shot.
“Give us a smile birthday boy,” and before I realised a flash had filled the room.
“Mum!” I moaned, “I'm still in my sleeps!”
“It's fine,” she said, “You’re only 21 once! Another photo for my album!”
It was 10 am, and my new outfit hung on the front of my wardrobe with the tags still in situ, my new black leather slip-on shoes still in their box. I contemplated wearing my new clothes for my little gathering in the garden this afternoon but decided against it.
Mum shouted upstairs to me, “Aaron we are just popping out, we will be thirty mins or so. Stay out of the garden, it's a surprise.”
This was it; this was the last time I was ever going to see them alive. I shouted downstairs “No, don’t go!” taking the staircase in three steps. I really wanted to stop them, but as I got to the bottom step, the scene carried on, I was back upstairs, and I shouted down, “Ok Mum, Dad, I will.”
By eleven o'clock they hadn't returned. The younger version of me wasn't worried. But I was, it was like reliving your worst nightmare all over again. I came downstairs and I opened the other two cards and presents. One was from Uncle Perry, and the other was from Aunt Terri, I'd grown up knowing them as my Aunt and Uncle, but they were just close friends of my parents. I always took the mickey out of their names Terri and Perry, should be a double act, much to Mum and Dad's displeasure.
Aunt Terri had bought me a big silver key presented in a padded box with the number 21 cut out at one end. And Uncle Perry bought me a crystal pint pot with 21 engraved. I was putting it back in the gift box when the back door opened.
“Happy Birthday to you. Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday dear Aaron. Happy birthday to you!”
Leigh stood there and threw her arms open, gesturing a walk-in hug, I obliged. She hugged me so tight I could hardly breathe. She handed over a card and a white tupperware box, “Just a few nibbles for our gathering,” she said.
“Let's go out into the garden. Dad’s put the gazebo up; he's going to fire up the BBQ when they get back.”
We sat in the shade, and it wasn't long before she had me in stitches. Knowing what she was about to tell me had the older me also in stitches.
She told me about how her new boyfriend walked in on her last night as she was getting changed into her nightie. She was fully naked when he walked in, and she didn't want him to see her fully naked, not just yet anyway, she said to save her embarrassment, she jumped onto the bed to get the duvet and cover her dignity. “The only thing is,” she said in between laughs. “I jumped onto the bed so fast and so hard that I bounced back off the bed, up into the air, landing on the floor boobs and legs akimbo.”
Tears of laughter streamed down our faces; both doubled over in hysterics.
“Pal,” she said, “I wouldn't have minded, but I was in so much shock, my mouth was fixed wide open, imagine me laid on the floor, legs spragged apart like a turkey, I must have looked like a blow-up sex doll.”
Barkley strolled into the garden with a bottle of wine and a card just as the laughter subsided.
“What have I missed?” he said plonking the wine on the patio table and taking his shades off.
Leigh gave me the look of death as if to say don't you dare repeat.
“Nothing,” I said, “We were laughing at Leigh and her night time shenanigans with her new boyfriend.” I gave her a cheeky grin, and we cackled even more.
“Oh, boy! I'll not delve any further; I'm too young and naive to hear talk like that.” We all laughed as Barkley embraced me.
“Happy Birthday mate, I can't wait for York, we’re going to have a great night mate.”
“Is Lottie coming?” asked Leigh. “I still owe some money for the minibus.”
“I'm here,” she cooed as she pushed open the gate. “Where's the birthday boy?”
Penelope and Brenda soon followed it was so nice to have all my friends together.
“Where's your mum and dad?” Penelope said, rubbing the bright pink lipstick from her teeth.
The older me knew by now, and knew that there was nothing that could be done. I felt heartbroken again.
“They’ve have popped out; they said they’d only be thirty minutes, and that was nearly two hours ago,” I said looking at my watch.
“There was a lot of traffic getting here,” Brenda said. “Police cones and a diversion, the taxi driver said that there had been an accident.”
“They are probably stuck in the traffic,” Penelope added.
“Well, I hope they hurry up, “Lottie said. “I'm starving.”
“I'll make a start on the BBQ,” I said. “Barkley, can you give me a hand getting the food out?”
For just over an hour, I realised how happy I was surrounded by the people I love, the people around me who meant the most to me. We were making plans about Saturday night in York. I could hear a few whispers followed by giggles here and there. I was sure they were planning something, but it was good.
“I don't care what you’re planning, so long as it's not a stripper. I will never forgive any of you if you book me a stripper.”
Barkley teased, “Ahh mate, you will love her, I'm sure.”
“Honest to god, I won't speak to any of you if you have booked a stripper!” They all laughed. It was a special moment, full of innocence.
The laughter stopped as two police officers walked into my back garden.
“Stop stop,” I said. As the scene froze, the older me came out of the younger Aaron’s body. The scene slowly faded away, the two policemen being the last figures to dissipate to white.
I was back in my own armchair in the neutral zone. Metatron came floating down in a purple and orange glow.
“Did you get what you needed?”
“I think so,” I said. And, with that, the neutral zone disappeared as the living room faded back into view. The clock started ticking and I could see Mr Williams still struggling with his bin outside my front window.
I went straight outside, barefoot, in just my underwear, I didn’t care. I walked across the lawn and got the bin to the end of the driveway for him ready for the refuse men to collect in the morning.
“My god, Aaron. You look rough! Put some clothes on or you’ll catch a chill, either that or you may give some young woman a heart attack!”
He slowly pottered back down the side of the house and slammed his gate shut. “Thanks,” he said peering over the top of the gate.
Back in the house, I turned on my phone. It lit up and beeped continuously for what seemed like five minutes. 53 messages, 89 missed calls and 36 voice messages.
Selecting the green phone icon, I begin to create a group call: Barkley, Leigh, Brenda, Lottie and Penelope. Their names turned green as they connected to the call. I’m pleased that they all answered, even Barkley. I didn’t give any of them a chance to say anything apart from hi, or hello... I cut straight to the chase.
“Guys, I need you over at my house asap. It's important.”
I hung up.