Chapter 9
NINE
I’m not sure why I agreed to this, but I couldn’t help myself. Seeing a different version of Jarvis is both off-putting and intriguing. His hair is styled similarly to how it was when I saw him the other day: a little longer than he wore it for all those years on television.
A bunch of kids trickle into the hall, presumably as part of an extracurricular school activity, and a guy with red hair beams at me. I smile back uncertainly. Do I know him?
Jarvis and I have set up a bunch of chairs in a circle, and Jarvis instructs the students to sit. I watch as he stands in the centre and begins talking, gradually rotating so that his back isn’t to any one person for long.
“Today, we’re going to perform a little improv,” he explains.
“We’ll do this in pairs, and I’ll give you a topic to start with.
The aim is to go back and forth, and you have to feed off each other, listening to what’s being said and responding appropriately.
You should try and keep it flowing naturally, and you’ll need to add something each time to move the conversation forward. Your pair will have two minutes each.”
The students murmur amongst themselves, seeming to like the idea. I couldn’t think of anything more uncomfortable.
“Rachel? Would you care to assist me with an example?”
My eyes widen. “What?”
“We’ll show the students how it’s done, and then they can have a go.”
“I’m not good with this stuff!”
“You might be surprised.” Jarvis faces the kids. “What do you guys think? Should Rachel help me show you how it’s done?”
“Yes!” They all start whooping and cheering, and my face heats up. I could quite easily kill Jarvis right now. Hmm. And I wouldn’t even face any consequences because I’ll be leaving this timeline at the end of the day.
“Come on. It’s easy. And you did agree to be my assistant.”
“But you didn’t say anything about performing!” I protest.
“It’s only two minutes. You can spare two minutes of your life, can’t you?”
I huff. “Fine. What’s the topic?”
“You can choose.”
I’m quiet for a moment. What topic should I choose?
Before I can second-guess myself, I blurt out, “Do you know we get married in about seventeen years?”
He’s caught off-guard for a moment and then seamlessly slips into a responding role. “Really? And how do you know this?”
“Because I’m a time-traveller. I took this special compound that puts me to sleep in the future, and I wake up in the past. Here in 1999, actually.”
“Oh, there’s a compound? Could I borrow some? I had a time machine, but it’s currently with my mechanic. The flux capacitor isn’t working, and we’re waiting on an order of plutonium.”
I blink. I hadn’t actually expected him to come up with such a quick and appropriate response.
“Uh, I can’t exactly give it to you because it’s with my other body right now, and I’m not sure where the scientist who made it is in 1999. But I can tell you a bit more about what it’s like there?”
“I’m actually more interested in the fact we got married. When did we start dating?”
“Around 2014—a year before you proposed. And then we were engaged for a year before the wedding.”
“Wait. So, even though we met today, we don’t start dating for fifteen years?”
I’m impressed he can do the math so seamlessly in his head.
“I’m actually in a different timeline right now. In the original one, I didn’t come to this community centre today, so I didn’t meet you until later.”
He nods thoughtfully. “Interesting. Then how did I propose?”
“You took me to the lookout overlooking Shell Beach at sunset and gave me a ring hidden in a cupcake. It was my birthday, so I didn’t suspect.”
He laughs. “I didn’t realise I was so cheesy. Okay, so how far into the future can you see? Are we still happily married?”
“Nope. Our relationship was always a bit rocky, and we only lasted two years. You liked to play mind games, and I eventually got fed up.”
He frowns. “That’s a bit sad. Then how do you feel seeing me now as a younger version of myself that you supposedly never met the first time?”
“It’s a bit confusing. You seem nicer now. I wonder if something happened in between that made you the way you are in the future.”
He pauses, presumably wondering how to respond.
“Perhaps someone close to me let me down. Maybe I had my heart broken by someone else. Did the future me never talk about the past?”
“You did, but there wasn’t any hint of what might have influenced you. But when I met you today, I was surprised to learn you sang in musicals. You never told me that…”
“That’s two minutes!” one of the students calls out.
Wow. That went fast.
Jarvis seems to take a moment to recover. He looks at me curiously. “I thought you said you couldn’t do this kind of stuff.”
“I… never have before.”
“Well, you were very convincing.” After a moment, he turns back to the kids. “What do you think? Did Rachel convince you she was a time traveller?”
The group claps appreciatively, and I look down at the ground. I probably should have picked a different topic, but this was the easiest way to make it seem like I was making stuff up.
I leave the circle and get myself a glass of water while Jarvis organises pairs and watches them perform their own improv sessions.
I don’t really pay attention, but I do notice Jarvis glancing at me strangely every now and again. I wonder what he really made of what I said.
At the end of the hour, he claps to get everyone’s attention. “You guys did great today. We heard some very interesting scenarios, and you all responded well. If you get a chance during the week, I’d like you to practice further, and we’ll do another round next time.”
The students all get up and head for the refreshments, talking and giggling amongst themselves.
Jarvis finally comes over to me. “Thank you for your help. You were better than the woman who normally assists me. She’s lovely, but she’s quite elderly and struggles to keep up sometimes.”
“Oh. No problem. It was fun.”
“You have quite the imagination, envisioning our future life together. I actually didn’t follow strict improv rules where I should have been creating the situation too, because I got so carried away by your world-building.”
“Ah, sorry. It was probably a bit much, huh?”
“No, it was perfect. Although, if it were a true story, I’m sad we broke up. And that you thought so poorly of me.”
“I… I thought it would be more interesting than a regular happily-ever-after ending,” I say hurriedly.
He laughs. “I’m not offended. It was entertaining, and I had no idea where it was going, which was good.” He clears his throat. “If you have time, would you like to go out for a drink after this? I’d like to prove I’m not the sort of person to play mind games.”
My heart skips a beat. No. I can’t get sucked into any situation where I’m alone with this version of Jarvis. It will just make things confusing.
“Thanks, but I already have plans this afternoon.”
His face falls. “Oh. No problem.”
“But thank you for inviting me.”
He doesn’t seem to want to give up completely. “How about another time? Could I have your number?”
I’m about to say no, but then I remember I won’t be here in a few hours. It might cause problems for the other Rachel later on, but I’ll let her deal with it. “Uh, sure.”
The redheaded boy from earlier is nearby, and he nudges Jarvis’s shoulder. “That was smooth, dude. Abusing your power to score a girl’s number.”
“Travis, I’m not abusing my power.” Jarvis looks at me uncertainly. “I hope you don’t feel that way.”
I try not to smile. “No, I didn’t take it that way.”
“Good. Because I hope I can influence you purely with my charms.”
I internally sigh. That was one thing he could always do.
Jarvis hands me a piece of paper and a pen, and I wonder what number to write. I can’t remember my mobile phone number from 1999, but then I realise my parents’ number is still the same. I scrawl it down and hand the paper back to him.
He grins. “Thanks. I’ll call you sometime soon to arrange something.”
“Okay.”
“Let me walk you out.” He looks pointedly at Travis, who is still staring at us.
“Uh, yeah.”
Outside, I pause to get my keys from my bag, but when I look up, Jarvis is only a foot away. He opens his arms and steps even closer. Wait. Does he want to hug me?
Apparently, yes. Before I can get out of the way, he’s wrapped his arms around me, and I’m breathing in the disconcertingly familiar scent of my ex-husband.
I’m suddenly very conflicted.
No. Rachel. You are basically dreaming. Even if this timeline did occur, it’s no different to a regular dream. Don’t overthink it.
“Thanks again,” Jarvis says quietly.
“It was nothing.” I slowly pull away and glance toward my car. “I have to go.”
I don’t look back as I make my way to the Honda.
Everything is already too weird.
I can’t make it weirder.