I get into bed and smoke.
I might have been in a daze. Quickly, it becomes light outside. Had morning come?
‘I’m going mad.’ I say to myself. When did time begin to flow so quickly? Next to me, Jane is asleep. I rack my brains and remember what we had done. We watched a film from the 1920s, we acted things out and laughed together. I remember the conversations and the facial expressions too. But I have no sense that it actually happened. Out of the blue, the thought comes to me: my skin is sagging.
While I spaced out, it became evening. Jane was gone. Around noon, I had eaten what he had made and listened to music, went for a walk then felt sick and came back. My memory is intact. Though it all feels like something that had happened to somebody else. No sensory recollections. It almost feels like an implanted memory. Also… he had left to meet someone for work.
It soon became late.
I started to get confused. It seemed I had begun to operate on a timeline entirely different from everybody else’s. Jane comes home. He can’t stand being around people for long so he comes back grumpy. Morning comes. I have to go to the bar. But there’s no way that I can stand to work right now. I’ll go back to my place. At night, I black out on the street. When I come to, I’m in my bed. Then night. Morning.
Time is related to memory. Maybe my ability to remember is getting weak. Is that why time keeps skipping? That means there’s something wrong with my brain and… it’s already Sunday. Oh, it’s Sunday again.
There’s something inside my empty brain, and that something expands at high speed. It’s keeping memory from fastening on to anything. Every day feels like it’s happening inside a dream.
Eventually, the concept of time started to disappear.
But that didn’t mean that I was able to gain that feeling of eternity. I wasn’t feeling that joy of the now being pressed down and eternally spread out.
The flow of time sped up. Or rather, for the most part, I wasn’t fully aware of what I was doing. As a result, memory became more opaque and time was getting lost.
I knew vaguely that this might be a side effect of the drugs.
Jane came, and then people in white clothes came. I was taken somewhere far away. I was given an injection and questioned, and I responded in a trance. A green mark was put on my neck. A mark that I was mentally ill.
The artificial voice of the analysis computer was carefully crafted not to cause alarm. Questions were repeated over and over and over again. Injections and drugs, too. I was tied to the bed.
One morning, I came back.
The lump in my head was gone.
Time had returned.
It took two years and seven months. It felt like three days and it felt like thirty years. I looked in the mirror. And that’s how I found out.
After getting back from the arcade, I didn’t feel like going anywhere. I watched the 3-D television with the sound off.
My favourite thing is to be by myself. I can’t take drugs, I don’t smoke and I can barely drink, but I still know how to pass the time.
These days, I only work one day a week, if that. Right now, I do illustrations for a living, but I’ve had around twenty different jobs. Physical labour is better. I don’t have to think about things. When I begin thinking, I start to dislike myself.
But, boy, today was terrible!
I really didn’t want to remember Reiko. It was hard to see someone live that way. I didn’t want to accept it… and in the end I couldn’t accept it.
I stood up and turned off the TV. I’d one commission due the next week. I’ll start it after I take a shower, I told myself.
There was a sound like someone flicking the door with their forefinger.
‘Who is it?’ I almost jumped. I don’t even know why I’m so on edge. A memory associated with an old pain started to well up in me.
‘Open up.’
I recognized the voice.
That old woman from the arcade was standing there.
‘Uh, what’s the matter? It’s very late.’ I scratched my head as casually as possible.
‘I can’t come by without a reason?’
Perhaps she followed me home? No way. The old lady pushed into my room. Her movements gave me a real shock. I’d seen them before, that dancer’s grace. Was it really…?
A horrifying thought began to spread in me like a blot of ink, with a speed and intensity too powerful to resist.
‘Oh, you’ve moved the bed.’
Reiko!
I didn’t want to come to this realization. Even though I’d known, really, since I saw her at the arcade.
‘Doing well?’
Reiko was trying to smile.
‘…Yeah.’
I nodded. We often used to greet each other like this. When I was being introverted, I think she used to say, ‘Cheer up,’ or something like that.
‘Oh, I’m so glad to hear it. You must have been surprised to see me.’ Reiko twisted the sides of her lips oddly. Was she smiling beneath all those wrinkles?
‘Yes. Very, or somewhat, anyway.’
I dislike situations like these. It was like a scene from a movie.
‘It’s thanks to you that I’m still alive.’
Was she being sarcastic?
‘Not many good things came of it, though.’
I remained silent.
‘You managed to protect yourself by acting worried but you didn’t lift a finger for my sake, not really.’
She wasn’t being accusatory. I knew that.
‘You were scared that you were developing emotions. You couldn’t help it. I get it, it scares everyone.’
Her appearance was truly pitiful. I couldn’t believe the change.
‘What have you been up to since then?’
I could feel my voice shaking. The back of my tongue was moistening. I knew what this meant. With my eyes open, tears began to fall.
‘Stop it.’ Reiko’s voice was horribly kind. Like she was concerned for me. ‘It’s nothing to cry over.’
Reiko was trying to cheer me up, like she always would.
But this was too horrible. In only three years. When we first met, Reiko still had something of a wrecked beauty. Now, not even those ruins remained.
‘I’m begging you…’ Reiko said. She pulled a tissue out of a dirty, strangely shaped bag, and tried to wipe away my tears. Is this woman stupid? ‘Come on, smile.’
Who smiles at a moment like this? But, after all, I’m the type who does whatever’s asked. I placed a finger below each eye and forced my face to look like it was smiling.
‘Play something for us,’ Reiko said with her wrinkly face.
‘What do you want?’
I couldn’t get myself to look at her face properly. What am I even supposed to say? Do I say the same thing I used to? That I can’t do anything for her?
‘My eyes are bad these days. They won’t stop watering. I just won’t quit smoking, though, and the smoke gets in my eyes.’
So we played that old song. As the sound faded, Reiko looked at me.
‘It can’t be helped, eh?’ Only her mouth was smiling. Her hair moved, and I saw on her neck a big discoloured scar. It looked like a powerful chemical had burnt it. In the hospital, they mark people. Had she tried to erase it herself? I couldn’t say anything anymore.
Reiko narrowed her eyes and asked, ‘I wonder if they’ve invented that matter regeneration machine yet.’
FORGOTTEN
Emma let out a squeal and froze in the darkness at the bottom of the stairs. The door to the first-floor bedroom was closed. Did this mean he was home? She had the feeling she’d left the door open when she went out earlier.
Her dissolute lifestyle lent itself to forgetting the little things.
In any case, Sol could well be in the bedroom. In which case, she had better hide her injection pendant. Emma reached out a hand to the wall and on came the light. She unfastened her bag and took out the pendant. There was still enough inside for a single hit.