ret-con, take 5
Take Five:
The twins, as he’s taken to calling them, are at his door early one morning, and he finds himself sure he knows what they’re going to say. Carmen and Paul are asleep in his bed still, and he’s barely awake himself, but he knows exactly what the twins have come for.
“It’s time to go home, Jordan.” He nods and sits down, gesturing for them to do the same. He wants to ask a number of questions, but it all boils down to one that he opens his mouth to say, forestalled suddenly by one’s hand. “You can’t take anything back with you but what you’ve learned here. We’ve accessed your time already and rewritten what needs to have been done.”
“All your records, photos, ephemara,” the other continues, “shows you as a boy. Your clothes are now male instead of female. All memories are of a boy and not a girl.”
He pushes his glasses back up his nose and sighs. “So I guess this is it. Will I ever see you again? Or Carmen or Paul? Do they know I’m going away?”
“They know,” one says, patting his hand lightly. “They’ve known all along that you weren’t theirs to keep. I’m surprised, actually, that they’ve stayed here as long as they have. Protocol geereally has the patient alone for a week before they re-enter their lives. But I’m afraid you won’t see any of us again. We are from vastly different times, Jordan.”
He nods, understanding and resigned to the fact. “When do I leave?”
“Today. But whenever you decide to go.” She cuts her eyes at him. “You can’t stay, so you’ll have to leave before midnight. But it’s up to you whether you want to say your goodbyes or what have you.”
Jordan smiles. “Thank you, but I think I’ll leave a note and come now. It’s just putting ff the inevitable.”
A few moments pass, where he writes a note to his two future-lovers, telling them that he loves them, telling them goodbye. When he’s finished, he turns and follows the two doctors out of the door, barefoot and shirtless and steeled to return home.
The transfer chamber is exactly how he remembers, sterile and cold. He’s naked on the bed, not even shielded behind the glasses he’s gotten used to here at Trans Action. It makes him feel more vulnerable than ever before, and he’s scared for the first time since he left home. The twins kiss him lightly on each cheek, telling him that no time will have passed at home, that they’re returning him to a moment after they took him, before leaving the room.
He’s not sure they hear him, but just as he goes, he tells them goodbye.
When he wakes, his eyes are blurry from the darkness of the room, and he searches in vain for his glasses before he finds them on the shelf above his bed. His laptop is next to his pillow, humming softly and glowing brightly in the darkness. He opens it, and checks to make sure that everything is right, that nothing’s amiss in this world of his. It’s not that he doesn’t trust the future to have gotten the past right, but he can’t be sure until he’s sure. He sees pictures of his friends from high school, how he fits right in between them. He even gets a hold to a picture of he and his best guy friend at graduation, and the picture looks twice as normal as it had before when he could remember dark hair and a decidedly feminine curve to himself.
He’s a little giddy, and finds himself laughing, despite it being nearly five in the morning and the way his family is asleep all around him. He logs onto internet journals, social networking sites, instant messengers to find that nothing has changed at all.
He lies back on his bed, and smiles secretly to himself. Whispers, “I’m home.”
The twins, as he’s taken to calling them, are at his door early one morning, and he finds himself sure he knows what they’re going to say. Carmen and Paul are asleep in his bed still, and he’s barely awake himself, but he knows exactly what the twins have come for.
“It’s time to go home, Jordan.” He nods and sits down, gesturing for them to do the same. He wants to ask a number of questions, but it all boils down to one that he opens his mouth to say, forestalled suddenly by one’s hand. “You can’t take anything back with you but what you’ve learned here. We’ve accessed your time already and rewritten what needs to have been done.”
“All your records, photos, ephemara,” the other continues, “shows you as a boy. Your clothes are now male instead of female. All memories are of a boy and not a girl.”
He pushes his glasses back up his nose and sighs. “So I guess this is it. Will I ever see you again? Or Carmen or Paul? Do they know I’m going away?”
“They know,” one says, patting his hand lightly. “They’ve known all along that you weren’t theirs to keep. I’m surprised, actually, that they’ve stayed here as long as they have. Protocol geereally has the patient alone for a week before they re-enter their lives. But I’m afraid you won’t see any of us again. We are from vastly different times, Jordan.”
He nods, understanding and resigned to the fact. “When do I leave?”
“Today. But whenever you decide to go.” She cuts her eyes at him. “You can’t stay, so you’ll have to leave before midnight. But it’s up to you whether you want to say your goodbyes or what have you.”
Jordan smiles. “Thank you, but I think I’ll leave a note and come now. It’s just putting ff the inevitable.”
A few moments pass, where he writes a note to his two future-lovers, telling them that he loves them, telling them goodbye. When he’s finished, he turns and follows the two doctors out of the door, barefoot and shirtless and steeled to return home.
The transfer chamber is exactly how he remembers, sterile and cold. He’s naked on the bed, not even shielded behind the glasses he’s gotten used to here at Trans Action. It makes him feel more vulnerable than ever before, and he’s scared for the first time since he left home. The twins kiss him lightly on each cheek, telling him that no time will have passed at home, that they’re returning him to a moment after they took him, before leaving the room.
He’s not sure they hear him, but just as he goes, he tells them goodbye.
When he wakes, his eyes are blurry from the darkness of the room, and he searches in vain for his glasses before he finds them on the shelf above his bed. His laptop is next to his pillow, humming softly and glowing brightly in the darkness. He opens it, and checks to make sure that everything is right, that nothing’s amiss in this world of his. It’s not that he doesn’t trust the future to have gotten the past right, but he can’t be sure until he’s sure. He sees pictures of his friends from high school, how he fits right in between them. He even gets a hold to a picture of he and his best guy friend at graduation, and the picture looks twice as normal as it had before when he could remember dark hair and a decidedly feminine curve to himself.
He’s a little giddy, and finds himself laughing, despite it being nearly five in the morning and the way his family is asleep all around him. He logs onto internet journals, social networking sites, instant messengers to find that nothing has changed at all.
He lies back on his bed, and smiles secretly to himself. Whispers, “I’m home.”