My life has been a constant series of unmet expectations and this is no different.
I keep waiting as if something will happen. The walls don’t slide away. The world doesn’t shift. Nothing seems to happen.
And I sit in my bed. Evaline sleeps next to me.
Rays of light illuminate the particles of dust that fill the room.
I can’t tell you the last time I dusted.
I can’t tell anyone much of anything these days.
I close my eyes and concentrate hard. I try to make things happen.
My body feels tense as I try to force yesterday into claiming me.
And yesterday doesn’t want me, not today.
I stand up with a nervous shake that rattles around in my gut.
Something should be happening. Something should have happened.
I need yesterday. It’s how I live out my today’s. It’s how I remember who I am. It’s how I define my purpose and my place in this world. My memory provides the context and reason for my existence.
I’m not interested in making new memories without Evaline.
I’m hoping that the pills will take me to the answers that I need.
I’m hoping that they will make me remember where Evaline may have gone.
But everything is jumbled and tangled. I feel as if my brain has threaded everything into a giant knot.
I stand up and walk around.
Out my room and into the hall.
My parents are watching television.
The evening is here and the day has gone.
I smell a familiar smell and realize that there is food cooking. It makes me hungry. It makes me comfortable.
I peak into the kitchen.
It’s some sort of pasta dish and it makes me remember Evaline, just like everything else seems to make me remember her.
I feel a pain in my chest and in my brain. It’s a pain that I can’t quite figure out. It’s a pain that is becoming more and more familiar. It’s a pain that grows sharper and sharper.
I walk away from the food.
I don’t want to smell it.
Don’t want to be reminded of the things I can’t control.
I sit down with my parents.
My father has his arm around my mother. They sit on the couch. They watch television. There’s a slight smile on his face as she pushes herself close to him.
I look at my parents and realize how accustomed to each other they have become. They may even be in love, but I can’t tell. I know that I couldn’t tell when I was in love.
‘How are you doing?’
And this is my Dad asking me the questions. I feel as if I haven’t spoken with him in years. His voice is soft and gentle and it makes me think of times where we would hang out.
The moments are faded and fractured in my head, but there was a time where we were close. There was a time where he and I would talk about life. We used to go and do things together. He’d complain about my mom and I’d complain about Evaline. But much like the continents; we drifted.
And we care about each other, but it’s a different sort of caring.
A different sort of affection.
Because time will take everything in the end. It’s something I’ve slowly begun to realize.
And though I am his son and he is my father, we have forgotten the roles that we once had.
‘I’m ok. Feeling a little weird I guess.’
My parents both look at me.
My mom speaks up: ‘What’s going on?’
I’m not sure how to answer. Nor do I really want to.
‘I’m just having an off night is all.’
I let the brevity of my statement provide the majority of my communication. She looks at me. Soft eyes and tight skin. She’s concerned but doesn’t know what to say.
I change the subject.
‘When’s dinner?’
‘We already ate.’
The lingering smells aren’t lingering quite as much.
I pause.
I’m not sure what to say or do or think.
My mom looks at me: ‘Do you remember when you were young? When you and your friend Jim would go on all those adventures? You would always go camping for days at a time. You seemed so happy with him. He brought something out of you that I haven’t seen in a long time. Whatever happened to him?’
Then Evaline, the imaginary one, walks in to the room. She’s smiling and wearing a new outfit and she looks beautiful. I look at her. I look at her wedding ring. My heart skips a beat and my head starts to ache.
And then my mom turns her head and smiles towards something that’s just over my shoulder.
‘So you must be Evaline?’
And then we are around a campfire.
Smoke fills the air.
There are few things that cause me to feel shaken.
This is obviously one of them.
It’s been a minute and I’m not feeling any better.
Evaline smiles at my mom. She opens her mouth.
‘I’m doing pretty well. It was a long day at work. Sometimes I wonder if everyone but me is incompetent at their job! Otherwise I wouldn’t have been so late in getting here. But don’t worry, I remembered the marshmallows!’ And she holds up a bag.
And my mom, she smiles and laughs a polite sort of laugh. My father, he smiles and then looks to me.
‘What is going on here?’
Everyone looks at me for a moment and then turns away.
I pause.
I breathe deep.
I twist my nervous fingers around and around and around.
Then I realize that this is all a memory. This isn’t too long after my parents and Evaline met.
And I’m not sure how this happened. I’m not sure how the past has snuck up on me in this fashion. Because the walls should have melted away. Because I should have noticed some sort of change.
Instead it all happened in a blink of time.
One moment I’m at my parent’s, the next moment I’m at a campsite that’s roughly one hundred feet away from a parking lot.
And for all the tree’s and foliage, I can still smell the exhaust from the world around me.
A few more deep breathes and then I smile wide and get with the moment.
‘I’m sure everyone knows how to do their jobs! It’s just that you’re far better at it is all.’
I feel awkward. Out of place. Unsure and insecure about what should be easy for me. My words are stuttering and stopping and failing me all at once.
My mom: ‘How is living together?’
Evaline: ‘It’s going really well… well, as long as I can keep Ellis in line. He has a tendency to be a slob. But I think it’s just because he’s such a forgetful person. But hey, he’ll figure things out eventually. I mean, you don’t run a race if you know that it doesn’t matter when you finish.’
Everyone laughs.
