Jack's World

Before I knew it, the time already came. Bull was leaning against the flagpole, cracking his knuckles with a smile.

Darn, I didn’t come up with a plan, I thought.

“Well Peltzer,” Bull said, giggling through his words. “You ready?”

“Look man, it was just an accident, really. You have no idea how clumsy I really am. You know, like, I wake up, get breakfast, and somehow the Cheerios and the milk end up all over the floor. Then my mom slips—”

“Shut up!” He moved, locking on to me. “I hate it when you dorks try to worm your way out of this. It just wastes time.” Bull stood over me, his head blocking the sun. “If it helps, you can close your eyes.”

“Duly noted.” My hands went over my face as his fist lifted in the air.

“You guys know it’s pretty dumb to do this at school, right?”

Huh? I peeked through my fingers. That weird girl from Biology sat on the bench, filing her nails.

“This isn’t the fifties,” she said, “They got cameras everywhere, and then you boys are gonna get in a heaping of trouble.”

Bull groaned. “Would you stay out of my business? This is between me.”

He grabbed my shirt.

“And the little dorky. Now, where were—owie!”

She pulled on his ear. “Pick on somebody your own size.” In fact, she was as tall as Bull, until he dropped to his knees.

His lip quivered. His face squished together as he squealed. “Got it. Got it. Let me go, go, go.”

She released, and I laughed. Seeing that jerk holding his ear while running and crying (“Mommy! Mommy!”) made my day.

But she didn’t laugh. She raised a brow at me and took off her shades. One lens was square and the other was round for some reason. “You got a lot of guts for a little guy. You know that?”

I popped my collar. “Madam, I know it’s a tough job, but somebody’s gotta do it.”

She rolled her eyes. “What’s your name, bud?”

“I’m Jack.”

“Melissa.”

I put my hand out. “ Well Melissa, I think this may be the beginning of a beautiful. . . Oh no.”

Tremors went through my hands, and the burning bore into my neck.

“What’s wrong?”

My head hurt, throbbing with each of Sharon’s words. I’m sorry, Jack, but your twenty-two minutes are up. Program terminated.

Melissa went away in a flash, and I was left alone in the dark. My neck stung one last time when the cord pulled out. Then I was numb.

“Five more minutes?”

“I’m so sorry, honey,” Sharon said. They designed her voice to be as sweet as possible during bad news. “But it’s time to get back to work.”

It was scrap week for our unit, and when it turned noon I wished Bull could be there to block out the sun. I’d rather be punched in the face.

Six hours passed and my arms felt like they were gonna rip out of their sockets from the weight of the detector. I took a breath, and slowly swayed it over the junk. It beeped.

Great, now I had to stop and dig into the pile of chicken bones, rotten cardboard, and used diapers. I stopped fighting the flies a long time ago.

I found a can, but something shined underneath it. No way. . .

A silver heart-shaped locket laid in the garbage. I can’t be this lucky. I turned it over to make sure, and her engraved name glimmered in the sun. My finger grazed over the letters. “Melissa?”

It hurt my eyes. Who cares? This was the closest I’ve been to my buddy in months.

Then my last memory of her clicked into my brain. I touched my temple. That night was always up there, but I never realized how important it was.

“Collect and move on!” the watcher said. “I’m not spending all day with you boys.”

I threw the can into my pack. The necklace went into my pocket.

My break with Sharon came the next day. I relaxed my aching muscles the best I could as she plugged into my neck.

“What would you like to remember today?”

A coolness ran down my body. “Me and Melissa. Two. . . No. It was three. Three months ago.”

“This may be an unpleasant memory. Are you sure this is how you want to spend your twenty-two minutes?”

“I don’t care. I need to be there again.”

“Okay, Jack.”

Heat flashed in my head, and then I was wearing a tux, holding a ladder.

No light came from her window.

“Mel, I know you’re up there.”

“Leave me alone.”

I climbed up like I had many times before. “This isn’t how you deal with your problems.”

“Says who?” She wore a dress made from old jeans to the dance. I thought it looked nice until it got mascara blots all over it.

“Me. And you should listen to me because I’m the smartest person I know.”

“Oh, okay smart guy.” Mel blotted her eyes. “He used me to win a bet. What am I supposed to do?”

I never played therapist before, so I said the first kinda smart-sounding thing that came to mind. “There’s nothing you can do. It’s done.”

“But I feel like garbage. This isn’t exactly how I wanted to remember tonight.”

“Ah, but what if we just made you a new memory?”

“Huh?”

I crawled into the room. “We’ll make our own prom.” I grabbed one of her cassettes from the drawer and shoved it in the player. A funky beat played.

“Oh, this is D.J Peltzer, and I’m here to say. . .”

“No. Please don’t.” Her hands went over her mouth.

“Don’t let that fool ruin your day. Take a chance. Do the dance!”

She shook her head violently, holding back the giggles.

“Fine then. I will. You move your left foot—“

And then I jammed my toe right into her desk, and that made her explode in joy, her locket swinging around her neck as she tried not to roll all over the floor.

Yeah. This was the day I helped her, like the way she’d help me.

Her name glinted on the locket. It’s a sign, man. She’s close. She’s close, and she still needs me.

“Jack? Are you okay?”

Tremors. Tremors all through my body. The aching came back all at once. “Mel. Stay here. Don’t move anywhere, even when the comets fall and they take all the boys away. Stay here.”

“You’re freaking me out.”

Honey, this is just a memory, Sharon said, you are wasting your time.

“Not anymore.”

“Jack?”

Flash. I ripped the cord out and ran. The watcher tried to stop me but I punched him in the face. My head hurt but I was outside. I closed my eyes to the sun and ran over the trash. I tripped. My back hurt. Plastics cut my feet but I kept running. They shot at me but I kept running with my eyes closed.

Her house was still there when I opened my eyes, her window still dark.

I grabbed a ladder from their shed and climbed.

She wasn’t lying in her bed or sitting at her desk. There was no sign of her at all. Posters of heavy metal rock gods and space marines covered the walls. Some boy’s room.

Gunk got in my throat. I rubbed my head. She did move. She dumped the locket in the trash and ran when things got bad. No. No. Melissa doesn’t run. She’s here. Somewhere here.

My head hurt bad now but kept looking. Something in the drawer. My hands went through cassettes, books, tapes.

Then I saw her face. It was on a VHS. She smiled at me. A globe with words floated above her head.

Melissa’s World

“What?” I flipped it over. Three pictures. Her. Bull. And a boy on a ladder. Head bad, but I read: Surviving high school isn’t easy, but good old Mel takes it in stride. Have fun with these three shenanigans with Mel and her best pal Zach as they conquer. . .

I threw the tape. “No! We were here. I made her laugh here, three months ago. It was three. I swear it was three. . . I helped her. I made her laugh.”

No, honey. She made you laugh alone in your room.

“Sharon? No. You’re wrong. She is my best friend.”

She is your favorite memory.

I took the heart from my pocket. My finger grazed over each letter of her name. It touched every letter.

Melissa™

Tremoring really bad. Burning and aching. Crying.

I’m sorry you had to find out this way, honey, but you boys all have to learn someday. At least your twenty-two minutes are over now. Program terminated.