Help
So, here is the challenge: Read the story and try to figure out what happened. Then, let me know what you think! Am I too obtuse? Have any suggestions for making the story better? I'm open to input.
Rest assured, there is enough info within the text for you to put the pieces together. However, if you're having a bit of trouble, I'll post some hints and tips to start you down the right track in the 2nd post of this thread. And if you go through the tips and still can't quite grasp what I'm getting at, I'll post a quick and dirty summary of what happened in the 3rd post of the thread.
Thanks for the help, and I look forward to your thoughts. Please keep in mind that this is my first short story, so be gentle
That about covers everything, so without further ado, I give you The Mistake. Hope you enjoy it:
The pain scorched his insides with fire. Not a physical pain, but one brought on by emotions so potent they manifested as physical anguish. His mind was frozen. Not from the early morning’s chill, but with the helplessness to acknowledge any thoughts outside of his turmoil. What have I done?
He had a good life, and he had a gift. Lauren was absolute in her devotion, his small group of friends genuine in their caring, his work rewarding in its challenge. And in its success. His gift—well, his gift was truly special, putting him on the brink of discoveries the likes of which humanity had yet to face, and perhaps should never have to face. Once it was revealed, the name of Dr. Eric Stern would be known across the country—across the world. And now I will be humanity’s representative to face this new unknown. Because of my mistake.
But that’s all it was, right? Just a mistake? Do I really have to go through with this?
Yes, I do. He would never be able to go back to his life. Not unless he saw this through. Not unless he could forget… her. After all, if I don’t remember it, it might as well have never happened, right? Nobody could say otherwise. I can go back to my life without the guilt and without hurting Lauren. I can still fix this.
He stumbled into his lab. It was dark now, of course, but that was for the best. No one could know that he meant to use it. His greatest discovery. If it works.
The lights came on, and the systems slowly booting in the test chamber gave him a chance to reconsider. But he knew what he had to do. There was no turning back now. He stared at the helmet. Funny, now that I think of it, it doesn’t look all that special. Just a bicycle helmet with some wires coming out, really. Oh well, I didn’t build it to look pretty. I built it to work. He examined the etchings in the top of the device. “The S.M.A.R.T. Helmet.” The System for Memory Alteration and Removal of Thoughts. Lofty title. Of course, it can’t live up to the full name just yet. But it will, one day. In any case, it’s good enough for what I need now. Just straightforward erasure.
From the status lights across the room, he could tell that the systems were now ready and waiting. It was time.
He strapped on the S.M.A.R.T. Helmet. Not uncomfortable, actually, although the forehead could use a little more padding. He brought an armchair over to the control panel and sat down. After ensuring that he wouldn’t be able to fall out of the chair, he began to ready himself. Stay focused. That’s all that matters. He ran the initiation scripts. Stay focused.
He pressed the button to start the process. The S.M.A.R.T. Helmet began to hum.
Her. Yes, think about her. She meant nothing. She is nothing as far as I’m concerned. He glanced at the status lights. Still a little time yet. It was one mistake. I won’t ever see her again, I’m sure. I met her for the first time last night. Maybe there is something to what they say about Friday the 13th. Why did I do it? NO, stay focused. Sure, she was nice to look at, but I never thought it would go that far. Again, he checked the status lights. Almost there. He focused on her appearance, trying to picture her in his mind. She was short and slender. She had a fun smile and dark hair. But she had a few strands of hair dyed pink. Like some sort of child. She didn’t have much between her ears, either, and she had that annoying laugh. She was just a leech, trying to find meaning and comfort in finding someone to latch onto. Someone she could use to have an extravagant life. Just a damn leech. She couldn’t hold a candle to Lauren. Oh, God, I hope this machine works—
He realized he was walking out of his office. Going home. Yes, I’m going home. Man, I’m exhausted. I need to cut back on these all-nighters at the office.
The drive home was short, as usual, but he couldn’t focus. He was so tired, though, it didn’t matter. I just need some water. Then I’m heading to bed. He closed the garage, opened the door to the house, and walked inside. The morning sun was shining through the windows, almost giving the room a pleasant, happy feel. Don’t be fooled, it’s actually quiet and dull. It’s the place I sleep and nothing more. That’s what life is like when you live alone. He dragged his feet on the way to the kitchen to get his water.
“Tomorrow is partly cloudy and should be comfortable all day, followed by temperatures dropping throughout Monday and Tuesday with a 70% chance of rain. But don’t worry; the end of the week kicks off June by bringing back the warmer temperatures we’re used to this time of year…” He stopped paying attention to the weather report. Must’ve dozed off for a bit there. He turned to the side table and took a sip from his water, leaving a ring on the table from the condensation. He put his water back down and turned back toward the TV.
A fashion program? What the hell happened to the news? And why am I so thirsty? Confused, he turned to the empty side table. And where the fuck is my water?!? He looked around the room. There, sitting on a coaster on the coffee table in front of him, sat his water, just as full as he had left it. Oh, right, the condensation ring. Have to use a coaster if I want to keep this place in good shape.
The spark of awareness that emerges when awaking sprung into him. His mind felt tired, and it seemed he had been having frantic thoughts before becoming fully awake. He was lying down. In a bed. He opened his eyes to a squint and was greeted by the morning sun. Hmmm, don’t remember much of last night, but at least I feel somewhat rested. I could stay here for a while longer, but like I always say, dozing in the morning is just wasting time. You’re not sleeping, and you’re not accomplishing anything. Giving a groan, he went to roll out of bed to begin his day.
He looked up from his omelet with the last remaining bite of ham on the end of his fork. Glancing around, he realized he was in the outdoor patio of a restaurant. Leonardo’s. My favorite place, especially for brunch. It was a very pleasant afternoon, but the traffic whizzing by detracted from the experience. I always thought if this place could only find a quieter venue, it would be perfect. He heard footsteps approaching behind him. Ah, good. My waiter. I’m going to need some more ham.
He was back sitting in his favorite chair. At home. What is with this fashion show? Can’t a guy find out what’s going on in the real world? He looked around searchingly, taking a drink of his water. “Ah, damn it, where did I put the remote?”
He was staring at the TV again. What a stupid fucking show. As he went to get up to change the channel, he realized the remote was in his lap. What? How did that happen? Again, he looked around. And where is my water? What is happening to me? He leaned back in his chair and picked up the remote. As he looked back at the TV, ready to change the channel, he noticed that one of the models on the show had pink highlights in her hair. No, I don’t think I like this show at all…
The door clicked closed in front of him. Turning to his left he saw his bathroom sink. Further left brought the toilet into view. This is convenient; I have to pee like a racehorse. He had a fairly strong headache and felt dizzy, so he sat down to do his business. Something just isn’t right. I can… feel it. Almost. It’s like I’ve got the name of a movie on the tip of my tongue, but I just can’t seem to lock down the thought. He flushed the toilet, washed his hands, and opened the door to the hallway.
He looked down from the dark and gloomy clouds… and saw his omelet. Leonardo’s again? I thought they only served brunch on Sundays. In any case, I’m starving. He cut a bite and let the familiar flavors fill his mouth. Delicious.
He was walking. And he had to pee. I guess I’m heading to the restroom. The inside of Leonardo’s was intimate, but it was starting to show its age. It certainly could use a little updating. He entered the empty bathroom, relieved himself, and went back out into the antiquated dining room, making his way to the patio doors. Ah, crap. Now where was my table again?
“Dr. Stern?” He turned in his chair to the table next to him, where a middle-aged lady was staring back at him. “As I was saying, I just wanted to tell you how much I loved your presentation at the TOTM conference last month. It seems like you and your team are doing some very exciting things in your research. If you ever need any modeling help, my brother is very accomplished in the field of thought pattern modeling. I could put you in touch if you like.”
“Uh, thank you… I… I think we’re actually ok with the team we have now, though.” The Technology of the Mind conference. Last month? An unsettling feeling welled up in his gut. I remember my speech, but there was more. Something happened afterward. Oh, if my mind could just WORK for once. I… I went to the hotel afterward. Yes, I remember. But wait, why didn’t I just go home? His mind started racing. The feeling in his gut started sending bursts of searing pain through his body. Oh, no. My office. I need to get to my office. He couldn’t remember exactly why, he just knew there was something there that could help. He jumped to his feet and ran to the sidewalk. There was some sort of commotion back by the restaurant, but he didn’t pay it any mind. He paced back and forth along the sidewalk, holding his head. Oh, what have I done? What is happening to me? What could possibly help me back at the office? He didn’t know what it was, but he knew he had to go. I have to go NOW. His mind in tatters, and still holding his head, he ran out into the street.
Flashing red and blue lights. In the dreariness of the day, the lights shone incredibly bright for it being mid-afternoon. He turned around to find an ambulance and three police cars surrounding a gray SUV. What happened here? I need to get whatever is causing my blackouts under control. He looked down. Blood was slowly trickling down the street behind the front left tire of the SUV. He approached the cluster of vehicles.
“You can go home now, Dr. Stern. We have everything we need from you.”
“What happened here?” he asked the police officer. A look of concern and pity revealed itself on the officer’s face.
“I know this is hard on you, Dr. Stern, and I’m very sorry, but please head back by the ambulance and let Officer Perry take you home.”
“But I don’t want to go home.” It’s just the place I sleep; there’s nothing else for me there. That’s what life is like when you live alone.
--
Thomas liked Leonardo’s. It was a place where he could spend some time alone, read the paper and celebrate his victories from the office. Today, it was a small victory, but even small victories are worth celebrating. Work was his life, and he had worked tirelessly to earn the success he had achieved. Right from the start, he had set his sights on reaching the top. The top of school, of business, of money, of everything. And nothing had distracted him from reaching that goal.
So far this afternoon, however, Thomas had spent little time thinking about work, and he hadn’t picked up his usual Sunday paper. Instead, he watched the people around him. Most were mundane, but there was one table to his right that held his attention. A middle-aged man and woman sat at the table. There was obviously something wrong with the man, but Thomas couldn’t quite place what it was. He seemed to be almost daydreaming and was slow to respond when spoken to. His sense of mystery heightened Thomas’ interest
Halfway through their meal, the man rose from his seat and started heading inside. He seemed to have some trouble walking at first, using the chairs to help prop him up, but when the woman offered to help he waved her away. As he walked further, he seemed to gain coordination and began walking more surely and quickly.
Back at the table, a second middle-aged woman, maybe slightly younger than the first, had turned from her neighboring table toward the couple’s.
“Mrs. Stern? Hi, it’s Stacy Arnett.” Thomas strained his ears. He could barely make out what they were saying over the nearby traffic. “We met at last year’s TOTM conference while our husbands were out schmoozing for investors. I’m a very big admirer of Dr. Sterns work.”
“Oh. Hi, Stacy. I remember. Please, call me Lauren.”
“I was very sorry to hear about your husband’s difficulties. How is everything going?” Thomas leaned in, enticed by the fact that the man’s mystery might be explained.
“It’s getting better. It was bad last month, right after it happened. He couldn’t do anything at all on his own. Then, slowly but surely, he’s been able to do more and more. The doctors don’t know what’s wrong with him, but they say he seems healthy, so we’re all hoping for a decent recovery. We just try to make a little progress each day. And I figure praying a lot won’t hurt either.” The two women shared a warm smile.
“Well, please know that we are thinking about you both. We wish him a full and speedy recovery.”
“Thanks, Stacy.” There was a noise over by the patio entrance. Thomas turned to see that the woman’s husband, apparently returning from inside, had stumbled and was on all fours on the patio. “Excuse me.” She went over to assist her husband.
Helping him back to the table, she sat the man down in front of his food. “I’m going to run to the bathroom now,” she said, “but Eric, I’d like you to meet Stacy Arnett. She is Bruce’s wife and was telling me how much she admires your work.” She walked inside.
Realizing that he was blatantly eavesdropping, Thomas leaned back in his seat. As his waitress refilled his coffee, he studied the man’s face. He appeared confused.
As the conversation went on, the man seemed to become more and more troubled. Suddenly, the man jumped from his seat, holding his head. Something was wrong. The man ran to the sidewalk.
“Eric! Eric!” The woman, on her way back from the bathroom, screamed from the patio entrance. She rushed around the tables, desperately trying to reach her husband. The man seemed completely oblivious to his wife in his agitated pacing.
Just as she got to the sidewalk, the man, looking as if he was having the worst headache of his life, abruptly dashed into the street, stumbling in the far lane just as an SUV was speeding down the road. Thomas watched in shock as the woman continued running into the street. She reached her husband and shoved him to safety on the opposite sidewalk. The SUV’s breaks screeched, but it wasn’t enough. With a sickening impact, the SUV slammed into the woman, and Thomas knew she might never get back up again.
“You! Call an ambulance!” the waitress yelled at Thomas. He snatched out his phone and dialed 9-1-1. Describing to the operator what had happened, he wiped tears from his eyes. Two thoughts continued to run through his mind. Would I do that for anyone? Would anyone do that for me? He thought not. And for the first time in his life, Thomas considered that he might not be taking the right approach to the top after all.
