Page 57 of Shifting Years
Yet I yelled at him. Why?
Bobby's baritone voice called out. "You okay?"
I pushed a curved branch out of the way. "No, but yeah."
A twang came from the right, followed by long one-foot spikes shooting toward us. Instinct raised my arm and sharpenedbamboo sunk through my forearm and into my chest. A fecal scent I should have noticed meant infection soon.
I stumbled back and met Bobby's open-mouthed look. I got most of the spikes, but one sliced his neck.
I had power, and more than I could understand, but it did nothing for my friend or to stop the grey around me.
***
The world flickered. I was in a hospital room, but everything showed in black and white, like an old television. Wounds disappeared from my arms, as did blood and grime. I shouldn't be clean as if I had taken a shower.
Is this Heaven… or the other place?
Trumpets blared like those in basic. "Rise and shine, soldier! Ten hut!" From behind stoodme. Except this Todd was more muscled and had medals for valor along his pressed dress uniform. A black rifle appeared in his hand, and he spun it so perfectly that no sergeant would yell at him.
He snapped his fingers, and the uniform melted into a pressed, business suit. He aged until he looked in his forties. "Senator Anderson if youwish. We can't call us both Todd."
"What are you?"
"You maybe."
"This makes no sense," I mumbled. The black and white hospital disappeared, replaced by Bobby and another version of myself laying still in the Vietnam jungle.
"Makes no sense," repeated my double. "What does in our world?"
"Our?"
Wolf claws grew from his hand which looked wrong coming out of a suit but soon disappeared. "I'm—"
"—me," I finished.
"And someone who made different choices."
"Like never got shot?"
"Oh no." He raised his dark hair, revealing long scar tissue, faded by the passing years. "I went through it all but decided I didn't need to remember everything. Had a life most men would kill for, and it could be yours."
He waved his hand. An image appeared of me and a short guy arguing like a couple. My chest seized like someone put a bullet into it. Bobby was right because I wasn't the wife type.
"I'm the you who picks up your friend, goes to the nearest base, and when the time is right, you talk about yourgirlback home. You'll tell reporters how she gave you the will to survive, and you'll go to her, andmakeher remember. Years later, with a high-ranking father figure, you win a senator's seat as your state's favorite son. Military hero and your new best friend who you saved will win any election. Most people get the Black vote, or the White one. You get both."
He paused, letting me imagine. "Of course, there's another option." This new me had muscles, but not as much. I certainly didn't have an expensive suit. From the t-shirt and smock, I might have worked in a small Southern grocery store. The shortman from my dreams returned and we argued, but he gave back as good as he got.
Working in a store while arguing or a state senator?
"Why are you showing me this?"
"I'm afraid some things are unknowable. I'm giving you a chance to get your slice of the pie. After years of suffering, don't you deserve something?"
He faded away while my head pounded. Color returned via overhanging green leaves and draping vines. My blood had already clotted and had to be because of my wolf abilities. Poor Bobby had no such gifts. I tore the leggings from the uniforms we stole and wrapped them carefully around my friend's neck. Just enough pressure to slow the blood loss, but not so much I'd finish the trap's job.
With a fireman's carry, I slung him over my shoulder, trying to ignore the copper-scented blood not my own. Most men couldn't do this, but I wasn't like most. Bare feet sank into the wet jungle ground as I held Bobby by his wrist and leg. A fearful sniff told me I didn't carry a corpse, but I would soon if I didn't hurry.
What was that experience? Was it me?
