Contents

Here I Go Again

Introduction

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Special Report

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Epilogue

Here I Go Again

Copyright © 2023 by Liza Devereaux

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer who may quote brief excerpts in a review. 

This book is a work of fiction. The author created names, characters, places, and incidents either from his imagination or using them fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental or used fictitiously.

This book was written by a human author, not an A.I. (Artificial Intelligence) This book cannot be used to train an A.I. (Artificial Intelligence) how to write a book.

Introduction

My name is Harrison Parker, and my life is in the dumpster. I made an offhand comment to my bartender that if I could go back, I’d make different choices.

"If you could go back, what date would you pick?" The pretty bartender asked. Without hesitation I knew: "August 25, 1983."

She sits a slightly glowing drink in front of me. I reach for it when she stops me. “Be sure, Master Chief Parker. If you swallow that drink, be sure you make the changes you wished you had made. Don’t take the same path you took before.

Make a different life, with different choices, better choices. This is the only opportunity you will get to do things differently.”

I looked her in the eyes and downed the drink in one shot. Then I passed out, thinking I’ll do better this time around.

Chapter One

20:30, September 21, 2023

I stood looking through the front window of the community bar. Just watching the pink-haired bartender as she cleaned. Just like the last time I was here, and yet 45 years ago, she didn’t have a care in the world. “Will she remember me in this reality? Was she the same woman, or was this a different version of her? If she doesn’t remember, if she isn’t the same version of the bartender, I’ll sound crazy.”

“Get it together Harrison. If you sound crazy, she won’t know who you are. You can tell her you're a writer working on a story plot and ask her opinion.” With that, I reached for the door handle just as I saw trouble headed this way. My first time through, I’d already been inside drinking away the sorrow of finding my wife in bed with another man. This time I hadn’t even made it into the bar. This was just one more thing I could change; one more decision I had to make. Did I let things progress or did I act and maybe change this situation as well? 

One thing I knew for certain, I wouldn’t drink any glowing beverage in this bar tonight. I would have a Samuel Adams and straight from the bottle, thank you, magic bartender. With a sigh, I decided I would try a different tactic with the strung-out junkie who had tried to rob the bar my first time through here. In the other reality, I’d been at the bar when he drew his Glock and ordered the bartender to give him all the money in the register. I distracted him long enough to pull my Navy-issued Kbar and sever the nerves and tendons in his wrist, causing him to drop the weapon. But I’d been a medically retired Special Forces operative in that time. This time I wasn’t. I was a billionaire investor and author. 

As the druggie reached the door, I grabbed him and pushed him into the alley beside the building. Once there, I struck him with a knockout blow against the back of his neck. Then, using zip-ties, I secured both his hands and feet. I reached into his coat pocket and removed the nine-millimeter pistol and pocketed it. I would return later and release him after I did what I’d come here to do. Which was to thank the pink-haired woman for giving me a chance to change my life. To go down, for lack of a better term, the road less traveled. 

Once inside, I seated myself at the bar. I thought I should start just like I had in the other reality when the young woman smiled and asked me what I was having. “Where’s Mac? I’ve never known him to not be here.” 

She smiled and shook her head. “Is this necessary, Harrison Parker? You have been here before, even if you have made the changes you wanted to make back then. For example, the drug addict you’ve disabled before he threatened me this time.” 

Well, that answered that question for me, didn’t it? This wasn’t a parallel universe double of the pretty little bartender. This was the one that had asked me what I would do differently if I could go back. What date would I go back to and start making the changes?

I could still remember what I’d told her. It had taken me a minute to sort through all the different decisions I’d made in my life. Besides being born to Robert and Rosland Parker, when had my life started down the dark path I’d found myself on this date? After sorting through all the different decisions I’d made in my life, I declared, “August 25, 1983,” without hesitation. “

She looked into my eyes as she asked. “What happened that day that made you think it was a good day to change?”

I remember thinking that it was the first day that I made the ultimate wrong decision. It was the first day I acted like a coward and ran away from trouble instead of standing up for what was right. It was the day I’d let evil win the first time. If I could, I would go back and make the opposite decision. I’d stop the evil that started that day. I’d save  Amaryllis Snodgrass from the rape that caused her to kill herself. 

Even if it cost me everything. Because knowing that I’d left her to her attackers had always been my deepest, darkest, secret failure. It was the first time I’d taken the easy road, not the right road. 

 “That’s simple. It's the first time I remember making the wrong choice and letting someone else suffer the results of my actions. It isn’t the only change I’d make, but it would be the first.” 

That I’d just saved her life from the thug may have influenced the bartender's decision. Or maybe it was something she saw in my eyes. She grabbed a highball and poured a slightly milky-like drink into it. About three fingers worth, and then she said the date I'd mentioned before, setting the glass in front of me. It seemed to have a slight bluish glow to it but I was sure it was my imagination. 

“Here, have a drink to thank you for saving me. I call it ‘spilt milk’.” We laughed at the joke. After all, there is no way someone could go back and take the road less traveled, just like there is no use crying over spilt milk. 

I reached for the glass, but the pink-haired girl laid her hand on mine, stopping me from picking it up. “Be sure, Master Chief Parker. If you swallow that drink, be sure you make the changes you wished you made. Don’t take the same path you took before. Make a different life, with different choices, better choices. This is the only opportunity you will get to do things differently.” 

I laughed again and almost didn’t pick up the glass. This pretty little thing was cute but there was something in her eyes that almost stopped me. They say that the eyes are windows to the soul. If so, then this cute little bartender had a wise old soul, set in a girl next door face and shocking pink hair. 

Still laughing, I swallowed what felt like pure ice. I shivered as it went down and when I breathed out frosty mist came out of my mouth. “Holy Shit, what was in that drink, girl? How did it get so cold?”

She smiled and leaned in close. “That’s not the question you should waste time on right now, Harrison Parker. You should ask me if you’ll remember anything from this time when you wake up tomorrow as your fifteen-year-old self. The answer is, you will remember everything that you know right now. However, I’ll give you one last gift before you go.”

 She touched my face, fingers spread like I'd seen on Star Trek when Mr. Spock performed a Vulcan mind meld. Suddenly, several strings of numbers appeared in my head, along with dates. “A gift to make things easier. Winning lottery numbers for August 27, 1983, and the lottery’s biggest payout the year you turn eighteen. And in case you aren’t successful before you turn eighteen, I also implanted the largest single winning number from January 16th, 2016, which was worth 1.5 billion dollars. The others are worth less, only a few million dollars, but they would give a person a good start on a comfortable life. Just remember that you can’t win until after you turn eighteen in 1986. The second winning number I gave you is for the week after your eighteenth birthday.

The first set of numbers is for one week after your arrival. If you can find an adult that you trust to play them, get them to cash in the ticket for you. It’s worth two million dollars. Split it and you still should have a great start in life.”

I wanted to ask her questions. To demand that she explain how she could do the things she did, but I found I couldn’t talk. My arms, legs, and head were all feeling extremely heavy. She nodded at me. “How I do these things isn’t important, Harrison. You should seize the opportunity you’re being given.” She nodded at me again and encouraged me to make the most out of my do-over, noting that they rarely offered chances like this.

After those words, I let my head fall, and I slumped down face-first on the bar. My last thought was that I should have listened better in intelligence training. I Survived a bullet to my knee from a drug lord in Columbia to get taken out by a tiny pink-haired bartender in Chicago. My instructor all those years ago was right. It's what you don’t expect that will kill you in the end. That was my last thought as darkness engulfed me.

Chapter Two

06:00, August 20, 1983.

I woke up the next morning with the worst hangover I’ve ever had. “Man,” I thought, “I must have drunk the bar dry last night to feel this shitty.” 

That’s when I suddenly remembered. I’d only had two drinks at the bar before that drug addict had come in and tried to rob the place. I’d severed his Flexor Tendon Bundle in his gun hand and the nerves associated with that bundle rendered his hand useless. Then, the strangely cute bartender offered me a free drink, and that's when everything became fuzzy. 

I went to roll over in bed because the space I was laying in felt lumpy. Almost like the worn-out mattress I’d slept on when I was a kid. It was the one thing I’d made sure and changed the first time I had to buy my mattress. I bought a top-of-the-line luxury mattress and replaced it every five years. To my surprise, when I rolled over, I fell off the bed and landed on a very familiar orange and brown shag carpet. 

I sat up and looked around quickly. Holy shit, I was in a room that didn’t exist anymore. I was in my childhood bedroom. Sometime in the eighties. I didn’t know exactly when, but I recognized the posters on the wall. Brooke Shields in her Calvin Kleins was beside my bed on the wall. Christy Brinkley in her swimsuit was at the foot of my bed in that little bikini that didn’t hide any of her delicious curves. Man had that poster inspired many fantasies to relieve the sexual frustrations of a teenage boy. On the closet door was my poster of Catherine Bach in her famous Daisy Dukes and bikini top. Against the wall, at the foot of my bed, was the old particle board desk my dad had salvaged from somewhere that he expected me to do my homework on every night. 

I stood and stumbled to the desk to see my Far-side desk calendar. According to it, the date was August 20, 1983, two days before my fifteenth birthday and the day we got new neighbors. The Snodgrass family would pull up in a U-haul any minute now. Today I would meet Amaryllis  Snodgrass, the prettiest fifteen-year-old girl I’d ever seen. In five days, I would walk away from Kent Buckley, Aaron James, and Todd Carlton while they gang-raped my new neighbor. Or at least that was what had happened during my first time through this year. Two days later, she killed herself. The first time, only Kent, Aaron, Todd, and myself knew what had happened, so no one understood her suicide. The letter Amaryllis left only said she couldn’t stand living, and that she was sorry for the pain she would cause her parents. Then she swallowed her mom's prescription sleeping pills with a bottle of her dad's favorite Bourbon, climbed into a bubble bath, and died. 

Only, I knew I could have saved her. Yes, I would have gotten beaten badly, but it would have saved Amaryllis. If this was real, if I wasn’t dreaming, but back in my fifteen-year-old body, then I could do things differently. I just had to know if I was really here. Really fifteen again. If I was, then I could change things. Especially since I had all the memories and knowledge and hopefully, the skills of the fifty-five-year-old Special Forces sailor to call upon. 

That caused me to open my closet to get dressed and see myself in the full-length mirror on the back of the closet door. Oh yeah, I was my fifteen-year-old self; skinny, weak, and pathetic. It wouldn’t make much difference in five days, but I was determined to start the PT regimen I’d followed from the day I decided to try out for the S.E.A.L. teams. I’d have to build up to it, but I could start today. There was no way I could run five miles, do 200 push-ups and crunches or 50 pull-ups, and I’d need to bike to the Y to swim, but at least we had a family pass there. I could even start using the Nautilus machines to build muscle. But first, breakfast and let my mom know I wanted to get fit. After all, school started in two weeks,right after Labor Day. Time to start down that less-traveled road. 

I looked in my dresser and found an embarrassing pair of gym shorts. I had forgotten that in the 80s gym shorts were short and loose-legged, which at fifteen could lead to an embarrassing escape of privates. For gym class, we had been required to wear a jockstrap or the old ‘tighty-whities’ briefs. As an adult, I had worn biker briefs when I wore underwear, which wasn’t often. I was a Special Forces Sailor, commando was the uniform of the day most days.

Once dressed, I headed down for breakfast. In the kitchen, sitting at the table, were both of my parents. Dad had dressed for the office and Mom was sipping a cup of coffee in her bathrobe. She didn’t function well without a pot of coffee under her belt. 

Dad, on the other hand, didn’t function well, period. He was a mean, belligerent bully, which made him the perfect president of Angel Falls Savings and Loan. He took personal joy in denying loans to people. Worse than that, it seemed to me that he took extra pleasure in finding reasons to hurt me. It covered me in bruises a lot, but never in places that showed. He would come home from work and have a few ‘drinks to unwind’, but mostly that just made him meaner, and I was the one he took his displeasure out on. 

Oh, everyone in our family knew; my mom, my sisters, and my grandparents, but in the eighties, you didn’t speak about such things. If I told anyone, unlike just a decade later, I wouldn’t be seeing a person from CPS, instead I would be told that I must have deserved the punishment given to me. After all, ‘spare the rod and spoil the child’. 

My parents looked shocked to see me. I was still operating on a lifetime of early mornings, and even though I was fifteen again, my body was still on 55-year-old me time. It was around six-thirty in the morning so I was actually about an hour late getting up for old me, but extremely early for fifteen-year-old me. “You’re up early. Want to tell me why?”

Dad was frowning at me. “I’m almost fifteen now. I thought it was time to stop slacking and start making some changes in my life.” 

“What changes?”

“Getting up earlier, for one. I decided it was time to start exercising, too. I’m tired of being small and weak. Exercising and running will be my focus, followed by a trip on my bike to the YMCA for some strength machines and a swim. When school starts, I’m going to talk to my counselor about testing out of some classes and trying to get into some college prep courses. “

Dad snorted. “Right, that will last until your first muscle cramp. As for school, what makes you think you can test out? You’ve never been a strong student.”

I nodded my head. “You’re right, Dad. I’ve taken the easy way all my life. I just thought maybe it was time to man up and start making the changes I want to see in my life. After all, I’m in a new school this year, out of junior high and into high school. Time to pick up the pace and make something of myself. Don't you think so?”

Mom smiled and patted me on the arm. “Those are worthy goals, Harrison. Do you think you can accomplish them?”

That’s when Dad did his normal bullying talk. “I think it's a complete waste of time. We all know you won’t finish what you start, you never do. If you pester your guidance counselor and get her to go out on a limb for you, and then don’t follow through, I will beat your ass worse than ever. Is that understood?”

That right there was when I decided that another change was coming. I decided I would no longer allow myself to be whipped and hit and suffer from my dad’s drunken temper. I wouldn’t say anything yet, but the next time he took the belt to me or his hand or fists would be the last. If he tried it again, I would put a stop to it and make it clear that the outcome would be completely different. There were other ways to punish a teen besides corporal punishment. Grounding worked for most of my acquaintances. I wouldn’t resist if I was being given a punishment that I deserved, but I wouldn’t be a whipping boy or punching bag anymore. I nodded my head. “Yes, Sir, I understand. I won't let you down, but more importantly, I won’t let myself down. I’ll prove to you that this is a genuine change for me.”

Dad grunted. “We’ll see.”

He drained the last of his coffee and kissed my mom before heading out to the office. My mother smiled at me. “Don’t start down this road unless you are serious about it Harrison. Your father meant what he said to you. If you do as you have in the past, he will punish you for embarrassing him.” 

I looked at my mom and saw the worry in her eyes. “Do you think I can do it, Mom? Do you believe I’m going to do my best at both exercising and school? I can do both, Mom. Please believe in me.”

She stood and sighed before hugging me. “I believe in you, Harrison. If you do this and follow through, I’ll be so proud of you. I believe you can do anything you set your mind to. Now, what would you like for breakfast? Since you’re first up, you get to choose.”

“I don’t want breakfast yet. I’m going to ride my bike over to the high school and run on the track first, if that’s okay?”

“Why on the track?”

“I want to set myself some goals and the track has this sign that says that four laps are a mile. I want to work up to five miles a day. This way I know how far I’ve run with every lap. When I can do twenty laps, I’ll know I can run five miles.”

“Wow Harrison, you’ve been giving this some real thought. I am proud of you for wanting to change for the better. I’ll do what I can to help.” 

I smiled. This was time to ask for a couple of things that were a part of my daily routine as an adult. “Really Mom? There are a couple of things I was told would help me get more fit. The first is protein powder. It comes in chocolate and vanilla flavor. If I could have a can of the vanilla to drink after my exercise, that would be great. I was told you can get it at the vitamin shop in the mall.” Also, I was told that pineapple juice was better for me than orange juice. Can you maybe start buying that for me, too?”

“Where did you hear about this stuff?”

Well, I couldn’t very well tell her the truth, could I? I’d used the stuff in my adult life. The pineapple juice was already a stretch. Honestly, it wasn’t any healthier than orange juice, but it was sweeter. I’d read a couple of articles that said it made a guy's sperm taste sweeter and less sour than someone who didn’t take it. I know I was fifteen, but what could it hurt? Even teenage boys can dream of blowjobs. Right?

“I talked to some trainers over at the Y last week and they all mentioned it. They also suggested I eat more leafy green vegetables and lean proteins like fish and chicken more than beef. Something about it helped build muscle tissue better. Oh and whole milk, not that watered-down stuff,”

My mother had made a list of the things I told her I was going to want. Now she was going to toss me a reality check. “Harrison, all of this is going to raise our grocery bill beyond my budget. Why don’t you just pick out the most important two items?”

I sighed like a typical teen. Chicken and fish were no more expensive than beef, but my father wouldn’t settle for healthy foods; he was a ‘meat and potatoes guy’. By meat, he meant beef, hamburger, steak, and a nice Sunday roast. If she served chicken, it had to be fried, or it wasn’t on the menu. We lived in Kentucky, after all. The town of Angel Falls, to be exact. A nice suburb development that made some old farmers rich in the sixties. Not our family, because my grandfather refused to sell the family homestead. It had been in the Parker family since the early 1800s and as far as my Pap-pap was concerned, it would stay in the Parker family until he died or beyond if he convinced me to take up farming.  

“The most important thing is the protein powder and the juice, Mom. If I get a part-time job, maybe I can pitch in and buy the other stuff. If I do, will you help me get the food and teach me how to cook it?”

My mother's mouth dropped open. “You want to learn to cook and fix your own food? Who are you and what have you done with my son?”

“Real funny Mom. But if I got a job, would you help me?”

She looked at me. “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Very serious Mom. I feel like I need to do all these things. I guess it’s part of growing up, isn’t it?”

I could see the tears in her eyes as she drew me in for a hug. “Yes, I guess it is. Just don’t grow up too fast and miss the journey. “

“I’ll try Mom. I gotta go if I’m going to get to the school before the girls get up.” 

Mom nodded and let me go. I quickly grabbed my bike from the garage and went to the running track at the high school. I pushed as hard as I could after I got there and barely got my four laps in to make a mile. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. I’ll run that mile every day for the next two weeks and then four more to make two miles. Once done with my mile, I walked over to the side of the track and started on my push-ups and crunches. I chose to start at 20 each. I did well with the crunches, but with the push-ups, I could only do five before my arms stopped working.  I would try to add one every day until I reached twenty. I was a long way from the goals I set for myself, but I knew with discipline and perseverance I would meet them and maybe even succeed. Tomorrow I’d go to the Y and talk with one of the weight trainers there and see about starting a lifting regimen. But now I had a date with Destiny. Time to go home and offer to help Mr. Snodgrass unload his Uhaul and meet Amaryllis.

Chapter Three

08:30, August 20, 1983

I biked back to the house and went inside to have breakfast. Mom had fixed me two eggs, over easy, bacon, and toast. She gave me a glass of milk and OJ. Not the healthy breakfast I would have liked, but the best she could do today. At least it wasn’t full of processed sugars and carbohydrates, except for the toast. 

“Mom, I noticed that there was a ‘sold’ sign on the house next door. I guess we’ll be getting new neighbors pretty soon.”

“Yes, your dad met the new owner last month when he signed the home loan. The man’s name was Snodgrass. According to your father, he is a retired Marine Colonel. The Daily News hired him as the new managing editor. He is married and has a fifteen-year-old daughter. They should move in soon. Mr. Snodgrass wanted to get here before school got started and enroll his daughter.”

“That’s neat, too bad she’s a girl. Not that I don’t like girls, but a guy next door would have been great. I would have given me someone to hang out with and maybe work out with.” 

Mom grinned. “You know, I’ve heard that some girls run and swim, too. Plus, at your age maybe she’ll be pretty and looking for friends. If nothing else, introduce her to some of your friends and look out for her until she gets settled here.”

I just nodded. I would look out for her this time. As a matter of fact, I would make sure she wasn’t attacked and felt like she needed to end her life. This time, Amaryllis Snodgrass would get to grow up.

I finished my breakfast just as my older identical twin sisters were coming downstairs. May and Mary Jane were eighteen and going to be seniors this year. The only way any of us could tell them apart was a small scar that May had gotten when she’d banged her head during a cheering competition. It was so small that if you weren’t looking for it, you'd miss it.

While they both looked alike, they were as different as could be. May was a social butterfly. She was the most popular girl in school, head cheerleader, and queen bee. The jocks and popular kids flocked to obey her every wish. 

Mary Jane, while looking the same, was the exact opposite. Where May ruled the school's social life, Mary Jane was the queen of the college prep tribe. She was a shoo-in to be the Valedictorian at their graduation this year. Until then, she was the class president and leader of most of the school's dance committees. 

If they weren’t my sisters, I would have called them hot. But they were my sisters, my annoyingly bossy older sisters. Unlike some guys, I had never perved on them nor tried to sneak a look at them coming out of the shower. I Tried to keep out of their way and avoided being singled out by them for anything. Where I was Dad’s whipping boy and punching bag; the two of them were his little princesses. 

May looked surprised to see me. “What are you doing up, squirt? You normally sleep until noon, if not later.”

I nodded. “You're right, but since I turn fifteen in a couple of days, I thought it was time to change some things. At six this morning, I spoke with  Mom and Dad, and afterwards I went to school to jog and exercise. I don’t plan to remain the smallest, weakest kid in high school. I might not get taller, but I can get stronger and fitter.” 

May laughed, but I could see Mary Jane thinking about what I said. “Harrison, we all know that you won’t follow through on this. It will be like you wanting to try out for football in Junior high. As soon as you realize how much work it really is, then you’ll be right back to normal.”

I opened my mouth to tear into May, but Mary Jane spoke before I could. “I don’t know. May look at him. Have you ever seen him look as determined before? I think our baby brother is serious this time. He might finally be growing up.” 

I smiled at Mary Jane. “You know, I always thought you were my prettiest sister and so much smarter, too.”

May stomped her foot. “You take that back, Harrison. We look exactly the same.”

I couldn’t resist. It had been years since I’d been able to pick on my sister. “I don’t know, May, that might have been true in the past, but I’m extremely sure that Mary Jane is both smarter and prettier. After all, she doesn’t have that huge scar above her left eyebrow.” 

I winked at Mary Jane, and she giggled. May started for me and I laughed and ran up the stairs to my bedroom listening to her chase me yelling, “You take that back, Harrison.”

I stopped as a memory from my future came to me. May lying in a hospital bed, her lovely face covered in stitches. Her psycho boyfriend had carved her up to keep other guys from hitting on her. Police arrested him, but the damage was done and not just to her face. May’s fear of people and their judgment led to her developing agoraphobia. She withdrew from college, got certified as an online medical transcriptionist, and never left her apartment again. I'm going to do whatever it takes to make sure this doesn't occur.

I turned and wrapped my arms around her as she got to me. “I’m sorry May. No matter what, you will always be my pretty, older sister. All joking aside, I will always love you and if you need me, let me know and I’ll be there for you too.”

Peering down at me, she opened her mouth to speak until she noticed the gravity in my face. “Mary Jane's right, you have changed, little brother. Where has this new serious guy come from?”

“We all have to grow up sometime, May. I just decided it was time for me to do so.” 

“Yeah, well, you sure stink like a man. Go take a shower before I lose my appetite. Sweat isn't a pleasant odor for you.

“You’re one to talk, Miss Cheerleader. Just so you know, sweat isn’t a pleasant smell on anyone.”

She cocked a hip at me. “Cheerleaders don’t sweat Harrison, we glisten.” 

“Maybe so, but all your glistening smells up a place.”

May smacked my arm playfully. What was with girls and women smacking men in their lives?

After that, she gave me a last squeeze of a hug and then hurried downstairs. I knew she was heading to breakfast.

I went into my room and grabbed a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. I really missed the comfort and functionality of my everyday tactical suit. While SEALS operating for the Navy wore NWU type III with the green camo pattern. The unnamed unit I was with wore a gray and black urban camo suit. They were tight in the proper place and loose in other places. They developed those a few years later. 

I could go to the Army/Navy store in Lexington and pick up a few sets of fatigues. However, they would stand out here in this time and place. I needed to find some khaki pants and Izod shirts. At least those would give me the feel I was used to. Plus, I could cut some pants off and hem them up to make my version of SEAL workout shorts. A few tan t-shirts and I would look like I had during my Navy days. Plus, I wouldn’t have to worry about a slippage of my junk down and out of a leg hole. 

I needed to find someone to buy a lottery ticket for me, and set up some kind of job that would allow me to account for my funds. A trip to my Granny's farm was required. I had a story to tell her. I knew she would believe it even if no one else did. Not my actual story. I’d been through it and I still had trouble believing it. But I could spin a story about having the same dream several nights in a row and my Granny would buy that. 

She was a big believer in good luck, bad luck, signs, and omens. Appalachian Hedge Witch lore talked about people that saw dreams that came true. I would ask her on my birthday if I could come see her the next day. They weren’t that far out of town and I could bike there in about forty minutes. What my Pap-pap called the back forty actually was the end of their farm, and it touched up to the start of the housing development we lived in.

I came downstairs just as the U-Haul pulled up next door. I pointed it out to my sisters and Mom. “Today seems to be the day the new neighbors are moving in.”

Mom nodded, and my sisters crowded the kitchen window. Then I heard Mary Jane giggle. “Look, they have a daughter. She looks like she might be about Harrison’s age. Maybe he can start high school with a girlfriend.”

May looked at me with an evil smirk on her face. “Well, Harrison, you claimed you wanted to make some changes. There’s one change you can make if you have the guts. Why don’t you man up and go introduce yourself to the girl? You're in an excellent position since no one else has had the chance to meet her.”

Mary Jane giggled. “Don’t pick on him, May. He’s a clueless guy. He wouldn't have the slightest clue what to do if he had a girlfriend.”

That was it for me. It was time to show my sisters that I wasn’t the same little boy they remembered. I might be fifty-five in my mind, but my body was almost fifteen and my libido was almost fifteen, too. For once I could say thank God for tighty-whities and thick denim jeans. It made my reaction to Amaryllis’ sweet little body almost undetectable. I turned and headed for the kitchen door. May looked at me with her eyes wide. “Where are you going?”

“I'm following your advice, my dear sisters. I’m going to introduce myself to the neighbors. After all, you are right. I have a blank slate right now. Mary Jane, I know precisely what to do with a body like that. I think she's even more beautiful than both of you combined. Don't stay up expecting me to give you the scoop. Because, a true gentleman never talks about his women. Unlike those fools you have had a relationship with, always talking about what you let them do the night before.”

Chapter Four

09:00, August 21, 1983 

Meet the Snodgrass Family

I left out the back door and walked over to where I saw Mr. Snodgrass opening the back of the moving truck. “Hi, I’m your new neighbor, I guess. Would you like me to help you unload your U-Haul?”

Mr. Snodgrass looked like a retired Marine Officer, buzz cut, salt and pepper hair which is known as a ‘high and tight’. At about 6’2”, he was tall to my whopping  5’5”. Built like you would expect a Marine to be built, the term I believe in the day was ‘like a brick house’. He had broad shoulders, pumped-up arms, and a tapered waist. “I would appreciate help, if you don’t mind. My wife, daughter, and I planned to unload it on our own.

I smiled. “I figure your wife and daughter are going to be busy in a few minutes. My Mom and twin sisters are watching through our kitchen window. It won’t take long before she comes out to see if I’m bothering you, as an excuse to meet your wife.”

“You have sisters that are twins? Are they older or younger than you?” 

“Older, identical twins. Both of them are eighteen and beginning their senior year. In two days, I will be fifteen and moving up to ninth grade this year.

He nodded. “That's the grade my daughter is going to start here. Let me bring her over here to meet you so she knows who she can turn to. She is a month ahead of you in age, and don't ask and get on my nerves. Dating is off limits until she reaches sixteen. No matter what she might tell you. Do you catch my drift, Son?”

“Yes Sir. Even though she is gorgeous, don't romance your daughter.”

He started laughing. “You’ve got balls, I’ll say that for you! Was your intention to help me out with the unloading genuine or was it a tactic to meet my daughter?” I blushed. Besides the knowledge and skills of my grown-up self, the longer I was fifteen, the more like a teenager I felt and acted. “Um, both.”

Mr. Snodgrass laughed again. “Honest too. What’s your name, Son so I can introduce you? Just keep in mind that you can only be her friend until she turns sixteen.

I blushed again. “My name is Harrison and you don’t have to worry about her dating me. She is way out of my league. I mean look at me I’m the scrawniest, shortest, weakest guy in our school. The only thing keeping me from being in the nerd groups at school is my sisters. Guys try to be my friend to score points with the twins.” 

Just then Mom, May, and Mary Jane came out of the house. “Harrison, you aren’t bothering our new neighbors are you?”

“No Mom, I’m going to help Mr. Snodgrass unload the truck.”

“Well, okay then.”

Our new neighbor walked over and introduced himself to my mom. “Hello, I’m Hiram Snodgrass. I hope it’s alright that Harrison helps me with getting my furniture in the house. It will make things easier on my wife, Wilma, and my daughter, Amaryllis.”

He motioned for his wife and daughter to come and meet the neighbors. 

“Wilma, Amy, these are our new neighbors, the… I’m sorry, I know Harrison’s first name, but that's it.”

“We're the Parkers,” my mom answered. “I’m Rosland, and these are my daughters, May and Mary Jane. You’ve met my husband, Robert. He's the president of the bank you got your home loan from.” 

Wilma looked at my sisters and smiled. “Oh my goodness, twins! How do you ever tell them apart?”

Mom laughed, and my sisters blushed. “Oh, it’s difficult until they open their mouths. Then it’s easy. May is a cheerleader and all her conversations are about her girls or the ball team guys. Mary Jane is the senior class president and head of most of the social committees. So her conversations are about the school or the next dance or party.”

As the grown-ups talked, I went to the truck and got two boxes in my arms and turned around to discover Amaryllis standing behind me.

From my kitchen window, she was pretty. When you saw her up close, she was stunningly gorgeous. Long dark brown hair with lighter, almost golden highlights. One of those perfectly symmetrical faces, blue eyes the color of a perfect summer sky. Just a hint of smokey eyeshadow and eyeliner highlighted her eyes, drawing attention to them. She possessed a pretty button nose and pink cupid's bow lips. Not as full as my sisters’ lips, but plump enough to make me want to taste them. I took in the rest of her without making it obvious. Seriously perky breasts, just about a good handful, and nothing more. She had on a white t-shirt covered by an open red and white picnic patterned shirt. And jeans so tight, it should be a crime what they did to her lovely, firm ass. They were ripped in all the right spots to show hints of what had to be the two most perfect legs any teenage girl ever possessed.

“Those are mine,” she said, pointing at the two boxes in my arms. “If you’ll give them to me, I’ll take them up to my room. I’m Amaryllis, by the way.”

She reached out and took the boxes from my arms and smiled. “Your dad told me who you were and that even though we are almost the same age and in the same grade, I couldn’t date you for another year. I’m sure you heard my name is Harrison. Always use Harrison, never call me Harry. My mom will have a cow if you call me Harry.”

“My friends all call me Rhyll, but my family calls me Amy. Did Daddy pull out the dating rules on you first thing? That’s super embarrassing.” 

I smiled and grabbed a couple more boxes and followed her into the house. “Oh, I didn’t mind. I had planned to ask you out. His warning just keeps you from having to say no to me. This way I can avoid being embarrassed and we can be friends with one another… for now.” I winked at her.

She smiled and blushed. “I’d like that. Oh and Harrison, just so you know, I wouldn’t have said no if you asked me out. I’d have told you I couldn’t date you for another year, because of Daddy’s stupid rule. How old are you, anyway?” 

“Fifteen—well almost, two days and I’ll be fifteen.”

“I just turned fifteen last month.”

“Yeah, your dad mentioned that. Since we can’t date even if we wanted to, as your friend, maybe I can show you around town and help you meet some others our age.” 

She looked at me and smiled. “Oh, you’re a smart one, aren’t you? You’ve already thought of a way around my dating restriction, haven’t you? We will go out but as friends, not on a date.”

“Miss Snodgrass,” I said with my hand on my chest. “I’m shocked you would think me that sneaky! Then I grinned. “I would never try to get around your dad’s dating rules. I just thought you’d like to get to know your new town and make some more friends. We are friends, aren’t we?”

She bit her bottom lip, and I instantly had to stand by the boxes we’d carried inside to hide my overly excited condition. I wasn’t quite fast enough, and she noticed my predicament and blushed. 

I shrugged with my hands up. “Sorry, he has a mind of his own.” Now we were both blushing. 

She came close, placing a hand on my chest which didn’t help my condition settle down at all. “I’d like to be more than friends. I want to be your girlfriend, especially if you promise to be my first date when I turn sixteen next year.” 

I was shocked. “You’d want to be my girlfriend? Why? You could do way better than me. I’m just the weak little shrimp in our class, in the entire school, probably.” 

She blushed and shook her head. “That can’t be true. You’re cute, funny, polite, as well as smart and sneaky. Although you may not be as tall as other guys, you bring together the perfect combination of the good boy next door and the bad boy that all girls want to meet.

I looked around. “Um, Amaryllis, I don’t know who you’re talking about, but the only part of that entire statement that's true is I’m the guy next door.”

She put her hand on my chest and smiled. “Don’t talk like that about my boyfriend, Harrison Parker!”

My eyes widened in surprise. “You really want me as your boyfriend?”

“Of course, I told you that. My first boyfriend ever too.” 

“Amaryllis, I don’t want to get you in trouble. Please don’t call me your boyfriend in front of our parents or my sisters.” 

She leaned in and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. It was chaste and innocent, but it lit my fire even more than her biting her lip had. I needed to go help her dad before he came looking for us, but my condition would be obvious to everyone with just one look. “Please call me Rhyll.” She blushed as she looked down at the tent in my jeans and ,giggled.

As I went outside to the truck, I saw Rhyll's dad notice my condition. Again I blushed, and he laughed. “Don’t worry about it, Son. I remember how it is at your age, a good strong wind would cause that problem. Just keep unloading boxes while I move the furniture to the end of the truck. Then, I’ll work you so hard that you don’t have time to think about my daughter or anyone else.”

I said, “Yes Sir,” and grabbed two more boxes that were now all stacked on one side of the end of the truck. His plan may have worked if not for his daughter. 

Amaryllis wrapped her arm around my waist. “Daddy, don’t break my boyfriend on the first day. I would be so mad at you.” 

Mr. Snodgrass dropped the end of the wardrobe he’d been dragging to the open end of the truck. “Amy… The rules are very plain, young lady.”

She smiled up at her dad. “Yes, they are Daddy. The rules, as you made them, are very plain. I can't go on any dates until I’m sixteen. However, those rules never said I couldn’t have a boyfriend. Just that we can’t date for another eleven months.”

His wife started laughing. “Well, Colonel, she is definitely your daughter. She paid attention and found the only loophole you left her. Besides, Harrison seems like a very nice and polite young man. He is giving up a day of his summer to help us move in. Just the sort of boy we should want to be a boyfriend for our daughter. I sure hope you plan to pay her boyfriend for his time today.”

The Colonel sighed. “Looks like they have given us our orders, Harry.”

I looked at my Mom, who was about to bust a gut. “Yes, Sir, but it’s Harrison, never Harry. Mom named me after my Uncle Harrison, who went MIA in Vietnam. Mom doesn’t allow my name to be shortened, in his honor.”

The Colonel nodded. “I understand. No disrespect intended, Harrison. Let’s get this truck emptied.”

Mom smiled, and I knew we had averted disaster. Thankfully, my sisters grabbed Rhyll and took her over to our house. I sure hope she could keep up with the twin terrors. I knew they’d heard the boyfriend comment and were going to grill my brand-new girlfriend.  Oh, the fun of family life. Without her to keep me stimulated, I was more content to help unload the truck for my new neighbors. The Colonel paid me twenty dollars when we were done. Which didn’t hurt either. Nor did the sneak kiss Rhyll gave me between our house and theirs. This one with a little more passion and intent.

Chapter Five

05:30, August 22, 1983 

My Birthday

The next day was a surprising one for me. I got up at my new teenage time of five-thirty and by six I’d left a note on the fridge telling my parents I’d gone to the high school to exercise and run. When I got there, I saw a familiar Jeep Grand Cherokee next to the entrance and Colonel Snodgrass was beside the track, stretching to prepare for a run. “Harrison, my boy, what are you doing here so early? Aren’t most guys your age still asleep?”

I nodded. “Yes, Sir, but I decided a few days ago that I was tired of being the smallest and weakest guy in school. I figured I can’t do anything about my height, but I could start exercising and running and become stronger, faster, and in better shape than I am right now. Being an early bird anyway, I thought if I came out this early, no one would see my pathetic attempts at becoming more than I am.”

“That’s an interesting stance to take. Do you mind if I ask what exercises and what you are planning to run?”

“No, Sir, I don’t mind talking to you. Maybe you can give me some hints. I heard the Navy SEALS had to do two hundred pushups and sit-ups, run five miles, and swim a thousand yards to qualify. I heard they were the best the military offered, so I thought if I could get to those levels, I’d be happy. Right now, I can do five pushups. My goal by the end of September is twenty. I can do twenty-five sit-ups or crunches, which are a harder version of a sit-up.”

The retired Marine smiled. “I know what crunches are.” 

“I’m hoping to do fifty pull-ups, but I’m not anywhere near that many right now. And I’m only running a mile right now, but I plan on adding another mile every two weeks. Plus, three days a week I’m going to the YMCA and swimming for forty minutes and using the weight machines to work on muscle tone.”

My girlfriend's father nodded. “All good thought out goals and if you’ll let me, I’ll help you achieve those goals and go further. I will not say that the SEALs are the best of the best out there, but they are certainly an excellent group to emulate. Do you plan to enlist after graduation?”

“I might, Sir, but I am trying to get ready for college as well. I think if I go in, I’d rather be done with college first.” 

He nodded. “Good plan as well, Harrison. With a college degree, you could enlist as an officer instead of an enlisted man. Better pay and benefits. Plus, when you get out, you have a career to fall back on. Don’t listen to the recruiters when they tell you that an enlisted specialty will transfer to a career in the civilian world. I’ve yet to see a career in infantry or even artillery. Unless you plan to be a sailor in the merchant marines, even a navy specialty won’t help you much. But become a college graduate, and then an officer,and when you get out at the end of your twenties or more, you can walk into just about any job you want.

So let's get you started. I’ll help you meet your exercise goals and I’ll teach you some hand-to-hand combat maneuvers, too. Your examples, the Navy SEALs, learn Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. I learned that in the Marines. I’m a third-degree black belt, so I can teach you. It’s a special martial art that concentrates on using your enemies' strength and movements against them. Perfect for smaller people. However, you are young, I doubt you will stay small for long. But even grown, the techniques will transfer.”

While I already had the knowledge of a fifth-degree black belt in Jiu-Jitsu and also Krav Maga with Sensei credentials for both, in my old life, this would give me a legitimate way to ‘acquire’ the Jiu-Jitsu skills this time around. “Thank you, Mr. Snodgrass. That would be awesome.”

He took my hand and shook it. “Well, I can’t let my daughter's first boyfriend remain the weakest guy in school, can I? I’m older, but I still have eyes. I know my daughter is lovely and will attract a lot of attention. Some from the type of guys I don’t want near her. So you work hard for me and I’ll teach you how to do whatever is necessary to protect those you care about.”

“Thank you, Sir. I appreciate your help.”

“I will not force you. If you want my help, you are to be here every day at six on the nose, you understand? If you aren’t here six days a week, I won’t help you anymore. We’ll spend an hour here exercising and running. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, we’ll go to the YMCA for weight training and swimming. On Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday, I’ll start teaching you in Jiu-Jitsu.”

“Thank you, Mr. Snodgrass. I won’t let you down.”

“It’s not about me Harrison, don’t let yourself down.”

With that, he had me show him what I could do with each of the exercises and he set me some goals. They were like the ones I’d set for myself, with the difference being he changed my push-ups to what was in my day called burpees. He called them squat thrusts . He wanted me to add one every day after a week, the same with my crunches, until I reached my goal of two hundred each.

When he saw I couldn't do more than one pull-up, he showed me an exercise that would help develop my arm strength so I could do pull-ups. He called the exercise the flexed arm hang. You did a pull-up and held the flex position as long as you could. Fighting gravity all the way down with a slowing of your arms straightening until you were hanging with your arms straight. He told me two weeks of those would let me do around five pull-ups and that I was to continue doing five, with the last one being the flexed arm hang on the last pull-up each time. Every two weeks I would increase those. Then we ran a mile. After I dropped off, he continued around the track until he’d run five miles in less than twenty minutes, averaging just under four minutes a mile. I could have done that at the peak of my SEAL career, but not when I reached my mid-forties. I’d slowed down a bit and averaged five-minute miles running at his age. It did, however, give the younger version of me a goal to shoot for.

As for learning Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, I would have to remember that I wasn’t supposed to know it. I couldn’t be a black belt in Jiu-Jitsu right out of the gate. I would push hard, and the forms and moves at the beginning levels would be great refreshers for me. After our workout, he and I walked out to his car and where my bike was chained up. He asked me a question that would help me figure out how to keep my lottery winnings hidden from my parents if my Granny and Pappy agreed to help me win the money. “So, you are making some changes in your physical fitness and your schooling. Have you thought about getting a part-time job?”

I nodded. “Yes sir, I need to if I’m going to help fund my diet. I told mom I wanted to eat more lean chicken and fish and leafy greens as well as add fresh juice and protein powders to my diet and she told me that would raise our grocery budget more than she could spend. I told her I would try to find a job and buy my food if she would teach me how to cook them.”

He smiled. “Why don’t you go home and eat breakfast, then clean up and come see me at the paper? I know for a fact that we need a couple of evening paperboys to deliver the evening edition. That would be a good first job for you. I know you get paid per subscription and can earn bonuses and prizes for compliments and a clean and accurate account book.”

That’s how I became a paper carrier for the Daily News. The daily paper cost thirty-five cents at the newsstand, but if you got the paper delivered, you saved ten cents a day. The Sunday edition, the only one I had to deliver in the mornings, cost a whole dollar, but if delivered, it only cost a customer seventy-five cents. No paper on Saturdays. So for the week, I collected two dollars and from that; I got to keep seventy-five cents. So, for the hundred papers I delivered in six days, I made $75.00 a week. Not bad for two hours in the afternoon. Thankfully, I had a good working bike and a straightforward route in our subdivision. I also could make more by adding ten new subscriptions. That paid a five-dollar bonus and would increase my pay by  seventy-five cents a subscriber. 

After getting work lined up, I spent the rest of the day with my new girlfriend. Mostly we just rode around downtown, where I showed her all the places a teenager needed to know. The Circle K, which had the best Icees and slushy machines; the movie theater, the mall, the high school and the Dairy Queen. I even spent some of the money her dad paid me yesterday getting us a Pepsi and soft serve cones. Then we went back to my house to hide in my old tree house, practicing kissing and making out.

Oh, it was all very innocent at fifteen. The kisses went from chaste to ‘with intent’. Then tongues got involved, and we were kissing with passion. Hands never went under clothing, but I got to feel my first female ass and breast on the outside of clothes this time around. Which at fifteen, was heaven. 

That I knew way more than that made keeping things innocent harder for me. However, I knew that Rhyll wasn’t ready for anything more and I wasn’t either, not until after I knew I could save her from being assaulted by Kent, Aaron, and Todd. When I was sure she would not kill herself, I’d think about going further romantically. But even then, we wouldn’t go all the way. I had to save something for after we started being able to date. 

Five-thirty the next morning, I realized it was my fifteenth birthday. I ached from two days of exercise and wanted to treat myself to a day off, but I knew that in half an hour, Mr. Snodgrass would leave to exercise. I’d promised myself and him I wouldn’t waste his time. So I rolled out of bed. Maybe I’d treat myself to a nap later, before time to deliver the papers. I was going to be met by the subscription manager who would show me my route. He’d go with me on Saturday to introduce me to my customers, but after today, delivery was all on me. So a nap might be out of the question today. I did plan to go see my grandparents on Saturday before collection time and get them to agree to help me get a lottery ticket and collect and split my winnings with them. 

But that would happen after my party. For now, I was spending the day with Amaryllis again. We spent all day hanging out and exploring our new relationship. I invited her and her folks over to my party that evening. Making sure both Mr. and Mrs. Snodgrass knew we invited the whole family tonight. I wanted everyone to know that Amaryllis had claimed me as her boyfriend. Not that many people would be over, just a few of my Junior high friends and my family. 

Rhyll even rode with me when I went to deliver the newspaper and we stopped on the way back to get root beer floats at the A&W before returning to my house. We didn’t get to spend a lot of time in my tree house because of my party, but it was fun to introduce Amaryllis and her parents to the rest of my family and my other friends.

My closest guy friends all wanted to know how I’d scored a ‘total babe’ as a girlfriend, and I pulled out one of my old college rules about dating. ‘Never gossip about your girl. No bragging unless you are bragging about her accomplishments apart from your relationship.’

She, however, never let go of my hand and was quick to let everyone know she chose me. After just three days, I was enamored with her and possibly even on the road to falling in love. I was going to do whatever it took to keep her safe in three days and change both our lives for the better.

The party went great, and I walked my Granny and Pap-pap out to their truck and asked if I could come see them tomorrow. I needed to talk, especially to Granny, but to both of them. Once given permission, I told them I’d come early so I could get back to spend time with Rhyll and deliver the papers. Again they agreed, and I shook Pap-pap’s hand and kissed Granny on the cheek. I hoped they would help me with the lottery, but wasn’t sure what I could say to convince them. 

After they drove off, I went inside to say goodbye to my other guests. Mr. and Mrs. Snodgrass left soon after my grandparents, but Amaryllis stayed until the last of my friends and family went home. Then I walked her home with a few minutes of making out in the shadows before escorting her to her front door. This time turning fifteen was going wonderfully. If I just didn’t mess it up in three days.

Chapter Six

05:30  August 23, 1983… 

Two Days Until the Attack.

The next morning was a lot like the one before. I met the Colonel at the track where he was already running and I joined him for my four laps, trying to match his pace. I couldn’t do it, but I pushed myself as hard as I could. Then, after a quick break, I did my burpees, crunches, and pull-up-flexed arm hang. 

Then, because it was Saturday and neither of us had to work today. We started on the forms for Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu. He showed me the most basic ones and had me do a set of ten of them from start to finish. He explained the forms were the basic moves and that once I could do them smoothly and consistently with all ten sets, he would show me how to use them to defend myself and introduce the next set of forms.

After that, he got in his car and went home and I rode out past the subdivision to my Granny and Pap-pap’s farm. I arrived in time to get a quick shower and put on the clothes I’d brought in my gym bag before Granny had a big farm breakfast on the table. Being famished, I dove right in and cleaned my plate. Once done eating, I helped Granny clean the table and wash the dishes while Pap-pap drank a cup of coffee and read a copy of last night's paper. It was an extra copy that I’d brought him. Now was a perfect time to talk to the two of them. “Granny, do you believe in all that Appalachian Mountain Witch stuff like good luck, bad luck, omens, and stuff? Dad says it’s all just superstitions.”

Pap-pap grunted from his seat at the table. “That boy has gotten too big fer his britches. He needs to remember his heritage and where he comes from. You listen to your Granny, Harrison, and accept that there are some things beyond book learning.”

I nodded. “Yes, Sir, I take it to mean that you believe in those things as well?”

He put his paper down and nodded once. “That there book learning will tell you the Farmer's Almanac can’t be right and refuses to believe in anything they can’t prove beyond a shadow of a doubt. But let me tell you something boy. The Almanac is almost always right, and wha, them college people call superstitions, hold true more often than not. What’s got you asking me and Granny these questions boy?”

This was where I needed to spin a little white lie to cover how I knew the things I knew. “What about dreams? Do you think they come true?”

Granny looked at me. “You've been having dreams that you want to come true Harrison?”

I shrugged. “One I hope doesn’t, one I hope does. I’ve had the same two dreams for twenty-one nights in a row.”

She put her hand over her chest. “Three sets of seven. Those are a very powerful set of numbers. There are those in our family history that were known to be seers of true dreams. Tell me these two dreams you’ve been having.” 

“Well, the first one kind of freaked me out because it was about my new girlfriend. You two met Amaryllis last night. It was kind of a shock the first time I met her because I’d been dreaming about her for weeks. Imagine my surprise when she is my new next-door neighbor and tells her parents and mom and the twins that I’m her boyfriend!”

“Was that the dream that she became your girlfriend?”

“I shook my head. No, that wasn’t my dream. I wish that was my dream, Granny, because it wasn't a good dream. I’ll tell you because I need to know what to do, but just know it isn’t nice. The second dream is good but I need to know if these are just dreams or something else.”

My Granny gasped, “You saw her death didn’t you?”

I nodded. “It’s worse than that. Here’s the dream. According to the dream, she is going to be raped, in two days, by some bullies in our school. In the dream, I saw them and left her to them because they are bigger and meaner and threatened to hurt me if I got in their way. 

In the dream, I walked away and they raped her. Then  two days later she kills herself. I keep dreaming it over and over Granny. Do you think it’s a true dream? I mean how could I dream about something so terrible about someone I’d never met until three days ago?”

My Granny gathered me into a big bear hug for such a tiny woman. “Oh child, I wish I could tell you that it was just a dream. But the fact that this girl exists and you dreamed this before you met her makes me think this is a true dream, and that you might have to decide if you will allow it to play out or if you will change it. Most of the time these kinds of dreams are a warning for those who receive them. They are the powers that be warning you that you can change what happens to your friend. What will you do Harrison? Will you be like the boy in your dream and turn away in fear? Will you leave this girl, who has claimed you, to be violated and end up ending her life out of shame and fear? Or will you stand up for what is right no matter what it costs you personally? Are you the hero or the coward?”

“Tell me what to do Granny and I’ll do it.”

She squeezed me tight. “I can’t tell you what to do, Harrison. That’s the whole point. If you take action, you can change this dream and save your friend from the boys and prevent her from taking her own life, and you won't have to live with the guilt. If you act to change the dream, I don’t know what will happen. You might save the girl's life at the cost of your own. You might stop her from getting hurt only to be hurt yourself. Or the Almighty might show you a way to win the day. The choice, however, is one you have to make. No one else can make it for you. This is why our ancestors, who had the power of this gift, called it both a blessing and a curse. It is a hard gift and a heavy load for you to carry at fifteen. Know that I will pray for you, and Pap-pap and I will always be here for you no matter what choice you make.”

Pap-pap slammed his hand on the table. “That’s a load of horseshit Beulah and you know it! I’ll tell you what to do, Harrison. You’re a man almost full grown. You protect what’s yours. I agree with your grandmother. This seems like a true seer's dream. So what do you do? This young lady has claimed you as her man. Did you tell her you weren’t? You have taken her statement seriously and have made your own claims based on what we witnessed last night. If not with words, then with your actions.” 

“A man does what is necessary to protect his loved ones, grandson. Did you make this girl your own in any way yet?”

I blushed and nodded. “Yes Sir, I’ve not told her she isn’t my girl, and I’ve kissed her a bunch. So I believe that through my actions, and even my words, that I’ve made her mine.”

He stood and gripped my shoulders. “Then her safety is your responsibility now, and you do whatever it takes to protect her. Even from those that are bigger and stronger than you. You use all the strength and heart in your body to protect her and you don't stop until the situation is resolved. That’s what a real man does, whatever it takes.”

I looked into his eyes. It was what I’d already determined I would do anyway, but now at least when I destroyed the bullies I’d have backup facing my father. 

My grandmother also nodded. “Pap-pap is right, Harrison. I tried to take the easy road. Most of the time, the easy road is the wrong road. I didn’t want to decide because I didn’t want to pressure you. The choice is yours, but I agree with your grandfather. Last night you showed our family, her family, and your friends, that she belongs to you. You need to handle your business. Now, tell me that your second dream isn’t like this one?” 

I shook my head. “No Granny, it was a good dream, I think. It was about you and Pap-pap. I dreamed you went to the Circle K and while Pap-pap got fuel, you went inside and bought a Powerball lottery ticket. I even saw the numbers you picked. 19, 26, 39, 43, 58, and the Powerball was 16. You even told the girl at the counter that you didn’t play the lottery, because you thought it was for suckers, but you had a feeling about those numbers. I even saw the date on the ticket. It was next Monday's date. Then I saw you on TV with a huge check for over four million dollars. This dream keeps coming just like the first one. If I was eighteen, I’d go to the Circle K and play those six numbers. But I’m not old enough to play. I even have a dollar, but I couldn’t buy the ticket if I tried. If this is a true dream, I hate for us not to win that four million dollars. That would give me a good start in life. I could pay my tuition at college or do a lot of good with even half that money. But I guess it wasn’t for me to win. After all, it was you in my dream collecting the money.” 

“Isn’t Monday the same day you dreamed your girl gets hurt?”

“Yes, Ma’am. I hadn’t thought about that. Do you think that’s important?”

Granny nodded her head. “Did you have this dream before or after the one about your girl?” 

I could see where she was going with this. I should feel guilty about lying to her, but I didn’t. As much as my Granny believed in the supernatural; time travel and getting a second chance to change your life was a bit more than even she would believe. So I told her what she needed to hear to buy the ticket and hopefully split it with me. “The dream with you in it always comes after the dream about Amaryllis? Why is that important?” 

Granny looked at Pap-pap. “Calvin, you think the Almighty is trying to reward Harrison for the choice God knows he will make about the girl?”

My Pap-pap pulled a pouch of Mail Pouch chewing tobacco from his overalls. Pap-pap started chewing Mail Pouch twenty years ago when the company offered him free chewing tobacco if he would paint his barn with their advertisements. To this very day, the side of Pap-paps barn that faced the road stated “Chew Mail Pouch Tobacco. Treat yourself to the Best.” 

“I’d have to say that it seems that way, Beulah. I mean, he’s given a dream to change a girl's fate. If he does so, it appears the Almighty has offered him a reward. A chance to change his own fate. I think we are involved because we both know that our son would take the ticket if Harrison got one and keep the money. We ain’t got no need fer that kind of money. This farm gives us everything we’ve ever needed.”

Granny nodded her agreement. “I agree, Calvin. I say on Monday we go down and buy that lottery ticket using the numbers that Harrison dreamed of. If it’s a winning ticket, then we claim the money and set it up so that Harrison has some for now, but most of it he can’t get until he’s eighteen. If it loses, we know it wasn’t a true dream and we are only out of a dollar.” 

 I shake my head. “No, that isn’t right. It’s my dream. I’ll give you the dollar and you and I will be partners. You may not need that kind of money, but we all know that there are things on the farm that money would fix or make better. So we split the money fifty-fifty. You and Pap-pap keep a million and the rest you can deposit for me. But we can’t tell anyone. We can’t put this money in Dad’s Saving and Loan. We need a different bank that he can’t get into the accounts for.” 

“This is your dream, Harrison, so the money is yours. But I agree with you that if your father catches news of this money, he will try to get his hands on it. Especially if he thinks it’s yours.”

I crossed my arms in the universal statement of stubbornness. “I won’t give you the numbers from my dream unless you take part of the money.” 

My Pap-pap held up his hand when my Granny started to argue. “The boy is right, Beulah. We’ll split the winning. Mostly because it will be on TV and Robert will hear about it. If we put some of it in our farm account at the Savings and Loan and when Robert asks for money, we will give him a bit. We'll have the power to decide what to do with our half of the money, and we will set up college funds for the twins. The rest we’ll hold on to for any lean times that come to the farm.

Harrison, you should know that we will leave the farm for you when we pass on. I know you may not farm it, but you at least appreciate the history of our family and will make certain-sure that this land stays Parker land.”

I nod. What else can I do? I won’t promise to become a farmer, but my first time around, after Pap-pap’s death, my father put Granny in an old folks’ home and sold the land. Granny watched as her beloved farm got turned into a condominium development. The very last thing my Pap-pap ever wanted. I’m still convinced that it was heartbreak at the treatment of her home that led to my Granny’s passing. It was the final nail in the coffin of my relationship with my dad. 

This time, I could keep the farm in the family. I could, at the very least, rent the land to a farmer and keep the house in good condition. After all, if nothing else, I would need a place to retire to when my time in the military ended.

They agreed to get the ticket, and I went out to the barn to help Pap-pap with getting the equipment ready for the coming harvest. Which was code for him wanting to talk to me about things he wasn’t willing to say in front of my Granny. I assumed that this would be the Farmer version of the birds and the bees. Boy, was I way off on that one.

In the Barn

Once we were in the barn, my Pap-pap tore into me. “Time to come clean, Harrison. You may have pulled the wool over your Granny’s eyes, but while she was listening to your stories, I was watching your face. If you’ve had a dream about that little girl or winning the lottery, I’ll eat my hat. Yet somehow you believe the girl is in danger of being raped and killing herself and you are just as sure that those six numbers will win the lottery next week.” 

“What I want to know is the real reason you believe it, and don’t be telling me lies anymore. I can see that you believe those two events will happen, but you were too squirrelly telling yer Granny those whoppers you used to explain how you know what you know.”

“There comes a time in every man's life when he has to put his faith in someone and trust that they’ll have his back no matter what. I have your back, Son, but you need to be straight with me.”

I looked him in the eye and considered his words. I could see he meant what he said. “Pap-pap, I want to trust that you are that person, but honestly, the actual story is even crazier than telling Granny that I had two dreams for twenty-one days. Can’t you just let this go?”

My grandfather shook his head. “I could, but I don’t think that’s the help you need. How bad can it be, Harrison? Just tell me how you know or how you think you know what is about to happen.”

I sighed. I stood up straight and looked Pap-pap in the eye. “Look at me Pap-pap. I mean, really look at me. When you do, tell me what you see?”

“I see my grandson, Harrison. My son’s only son. Why? Who or what should I see?” 

I nod. “That’s what you should see, but tell me how old you think I am? Look closely and tell me how old I am right now.”

“What is all this, boy? You’re fifteen. Ya know yer birthday was yesterday.”

I nodded. “I know that, but look, really look. Just in my eyes, nowhere else. Tell me Pap-pap, are these the eyes of a fifteen-year-old boy?”

I could feel his stare and he stopped and looked again. “No, those are old eyes. Haunted eyes, they’ve seen things, terrible things. What happened, Son?” 

“This is hard to believe, Pap-pap. I remember being older than Dad. Just three days ago, I was fifty-five.

 I came home to find my wife of twenty-five years, fucking some strange man in my bed. When I went to kick his ass, she informed me she was filing for divorce the next day. For sixteen years I was a SEAL in the Navy, then for another fourteen I was with a government agency that doesn’t exist yet and wasn't on the books in my day either. I got shot in the knee on a mission and medically retired to find my wife was a slut and hated me. I went to get drunk and ended up saving a young bartender's life. She asked me If I could do it all over, knowing what I knew at fifty-five, what would be the first change I’d make? What date would I pick to start on? 

Pap-pap, I didn’t even have to think. August 25, 1983, shot out of my mouth. The day I made the worst choice of my life. The day I saw my new neighbor's daughter being harassed by Kent Buckley, Aaron James, and Todd Carlton. When I told them to leave her alone, they gave me a choice. Walk away and forget what I saw or get beat and then watch them use her, anyway. I walked away, choosing to save myself, and left them to rape her. Two days later, she took a bottle of sleeping pills and Bourbon and killed herself and I said nothing to anyone until now.”

“After that, I made only the easy choices, the wrong choices. When asked what would be my first change, that was the only thing I could think of. That was in 2023. The bartender gave me something to drink and put three winning lottery numbers in my mind with the dates for each.”

“Then I passed out. When I woke up, it was three days ago, and I was almost fifteen again and Amaryllis' family was about to move in next door. This time will be different. I know things I shouldn’t. I have skills no fifteen-year-old should have like a ton of ways to kill a man, with just my bare hands, with a knife, or several other weapons. Hell Pap-pap, I know how to kill a man in six different ways, with a pencil. You heard me,” I said, shaking my head. “With a fucking pencil, for Christ's sake. But I will tell you this, I won’t choose the easy road this time. No, this time I’ll stand between those fuckers and Amaryllis, even if they kill me.”

Before I even saw it, Pap-paps hand was connecting with my face. “The hell you will! You say you got all this knowledge, all these skills? Then you will put those punks on the ground! You won’t kill them. That’s also the easy way out. No, you’ll beat them until they can’t stand and then you watch as their lives become destroyed. Do what you returned to do and do it right this time. You hear me Harrison Benjamin Parker? You do what you came to do and then you make a new life. Don’t forget your old life, just create a better one.”

I looked at him, shocked. “You believe me? How can you believe me? You should have me sent to the mental hospital.”

The old man looked me in the eye. “Are you crazy? I ain’t got a clue. But what I know is you believe every word of that tale you just told me. You believe it more than that horseshit you were shoveling at your Granny.”

He shook his head. “I’ve seen some downright strange things in my life, Son. Could your tale be true? It wouldn’t be the strangest story I’ve ever heard in my life. I guess time will tell. By next week, we’ll know if it was true or a crazy boy's imagination. You just make the changes you believe you were sent to make. You live the best life you can and make the choices that you think are best for that life. Do that and I, for one, will be proud to call you my grandson.”

After that, we looked at the tractor and the harvesting equipment. At some point, I looked over into a corner of the barn and saw a tall, straight wooden pole about five feet five inches tall and about three inches around. It was the perfect size for a fighting staff. I walked over and picked it up. The wood was solid, and the pole felt perfectly balanced. I saw Pap-pap watching me as I moved through a series of staff forms. Sending that pole spinning and whistling as I struck at an imaginary opponent. “Harrison, you like that old ash walking stick?”

“Pap-pap, where did you get this from? It’s perfect for fighting a form of martial arts called Bo or Staff fighting. It’s the perfect size for me and perfectly balanced.” 

With that, I made the staff sing, spinning, striking, and blocking. I stepped up to the center post in the barn and began to strike and block. Using the post as an imaginary opponent. “Pap-pap, can I have this?”

My grandfather nodded. “I forgot all about it. Jest been standing there from when I cleaned it up from that old ash tree that fell a couple of years ago. That limb was perfectly straight, and I thought it would make a good walking stick. I skinned the bark off it and sanded it smooth. My plan was to stain and lacquer it and to then sell it at the county fair. I ended up forgettin’ all about it. Maybe I forgot it because the Fates intended it to be fer you. For your mission to save yer girl.”

After making sure all the equipment was ready for the harvest. I promised Pap-pap that I would help on the weekends and after delivering my papers. We went to the workshop where Pap-pap kept a bunch of tools and junk. There I found a couple of old wire cages, that with some minor modifications,I turned into two baskets that I attached to the back fender of my bike. I calculated each basket would hold about twenty-five rolled papers.

Then I grabbed a small can of redwood stain and another can of clear satin lacquer. I snatched a small paintbrush and a pint of turpentine to clean the brush with. I needed to stain and add a couple of clear coats to my staff. The stain would hide blood stains and the lacquer would help to harden the wood more.

I also found a couple of pipe U-bolts that I welded to the body of my bike to hold the staff when I was riding. Not only would that put it where I needed it on the 25th, but by attaching it to my bike, I could claim that I got it to protect myself from dog attacks on the paper route.

After I finished modifying my bike, I quickly slipped back into the farmhouse as Pap-pap drove the tractor out into the fields. I kissed Granny on her cheek and wrote the six numbers for the Powerball on Monday. I also reminded her not to buy the ticket until Monday so it would match the dream. Then I gave her a dollar to buy the ticket. She tried to refuse to take my money. She only agreed after I reminded her that, while she would be the owner of the ticket on record, I had dreamed that she would win. I then reminded her that both she and Pap-pap had said that they thought the lottery was my reward for doing everything I could to stop Amaryllis from getting attacked. With that, she relented and took my buck. I left the farm and headed back into town. Thankfully, it was Saturday, and I didn’t have to deliver papers today. But tomorrow would be an earlier-than-normal day to roll one hundred Sunday Editions and deliver them. Changing my life was harder work than I’d thought it would be.

Chapter Seven

13:00 Saturday, August 23, 1983

I got home just as my boss at the paper was pulling up to the house to take me to collect payment for the last week. This was the first time I got to meet most of my customers. They were all well pleased with their delivery last week. My boss showed me how to fill out the payment book for each customer and how to give them the receipt that said they’d paid for the last week. I had two families that were going on a week-long vacation before school started. That allowed me to be shown how to do a temporary stop order. So I would only get ninety-eight papers next week. The count would automatically return to a hundred the following week. 

When I got home, Amaryllis was there looking at embarrassing photo albums of my early years, thanks to my two sisters. I remind them that I had twice as many embarrassing photo albums I could show the next few guys who came to pick them up for a date. I then went out to the utility shed in the backyard and put an eye hoop screw in one end of the ash staff I’d gotten from Pap-pap. Then using some nylon clothesline, I hung the staff above some spread-out newspaper and stained the whole thing with redwood stain. Amaryllis had followed me out and wanted to know what I was working on. I told her that I was staining and sealing a wood walking stick my Pap-pap had given me to help keep dogs off me on my paper route. 

I waited for the stain to dry before putting on the clear coat and that gave us time to make out. I felt kind of creepy at first after the talk with my Pap-pap, but I quickly remembered that while I had memories of being older, in this reality I was just barely fifteen, and Amaryllis was the first girl I’d ever made out with, in this timeline.

After I got really worked up and needed to cool off,  before we went further than two fifteen-year-old teens should, I checked on the staff. The stain was dry and it was a nice red color that still let the grain of the wood come through. I then used the lacquer to coat it.  I would do three coats since it was a satin finish and not glossy. That would harden the wood significantly and yet not look like a super finished product. I planned for it to blend in with the brush behind the Circle K where Amaryllis would be attacked. I didn’t want to show up with the staff ready to fight because then I would have to explain how I knew she was going to be attacked. No, I would pick it up from the ground if I ended up needing it. After the last coat was on the wood, I walked my girlfriend home  just as the sun was setting. 

Her family invited me to stay for supper so I called over to my house and let them know I was eating with the Snodgrass’. Unlike my mom, who was a kitchen witch and could whip up a good wholesome meal from anything she pulled out of the fridge,Wilma Snodgrass relied on things like Shake and Bake or Hamburger and Tuna Helper to make most meals for the three of them. That night Hiram had brought home a twelve-piece bucket of KFC with all the fixings. After dinner, Amaryllis and I washed the few dishes that there were, while sneaking in some serious kissing. Soon after, I said goodnight to my girl and her family. After all, I had an early morning the next day delivering the larger Sunday edition. It would also let me see how my homemade wire baskets worked.  

I needed to let go of my past to a certain extent. I went  to the Five and Dime and using the last of the money I’d made helping the Snodgrass family move in, I bought a locking diary. I sat down that night and made notes of the things I wanted and needed to remember from my previous timeline. Things like May’s psycho boyfriend and the other two sets of lottery numbers in the future. Everything about the Drug Lord who blew out my knee. I was going to see him pay for that no matter what. As much about my wife the first time that I could remember. Things like, where we’d met and how we’d decided to marry. I made the notes on her so that I could avoid her like the toxic mess she was at the end. 

I made notes on Granny and Pap-pap and what Dad had done to the farm after Pap-pap’s passing. There were other things that Dad had done over the years that I jotted down too. I knew that the time was coming and probably sooner than later when he and I would have a reckoning. Might even happen the next time he decided that it was a good time to whip on his only son. 

Then I made notes of other major events I remembered, like when Microsoft Windows came out and changed PC computing, when Apple released the first iMac, the return of Steve Jobs was another one I put in the book. September 11th, Operation Desert Shield, and Desert Storm. The Columbine school shooting, Sandy Hook Elementary, and the Dark Knight Rises killings. All the dates I thought I could make a difference. The Vegas shooting and the Orlando nightclub shooting.  I made a note to watch for Walmart and Walton industries to hit the stock market. 

Then I added more personal things I remembered. Pap-pap’s heart attack, Granny's death date, and the day Dad put her in the old folks home. Dad’s death. I wasn’t sure I wanted to prevent that one. Mary Jane's graduation from college and the date she took her job teaching English in Japan. She loved the culture so much that she never came home. I didn’t know if I wanted to stop that or just remember when she went so that I could tell her how much I loved her and May.

I was hoping that if I changed May’s future that Mary Jane wouldn’t feel inclined to run to the other side of the world. Once I’d put down everything I could remember,  I locked the diary and looked for a secure place to hide it. I knew better than under the bed or between the mattress and box springs. That’s how I lost my first Playboy in a couple of years. My evil twin sisters had found it and replaced it with a Cosmo magazine. While the photos of the models weren’t as good, their articles had been eye-opening for sixteen-year-old me. I learned a lot about women from that mag. Still, I didn’t want this book to fall into my sisters' hands or anyone else's either. For now, I put it in a shoebox under my farm boots. Then I went out back to check on my staff. 

It was dry so I took it down, removed the eye bolt, and in the rising dusk went through a couple of sets of Staff fighting forums. I only had two days and wanted to be as comfortable as I could be in this scrawny body. I couldn’t wait for my workout routine to start paying off for me.  Then I took my second shower of the day and crawled into bed after setting my alarm for four-twenty the next day. Got to make sure that the Sunday paper gets delivered on time.

05:30 Sunday, August 24, 1983 

 One Day Before The Attack

Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest unless, like me, you have a paper route. Then it’s the hardest day of the week. First, the papers are way bigger than the daily papers thanks to the TV guide and the cartoons and sales adverts. It takes longer to roll them and honestly to load and deliver them. Plus there are some customers who only get the Sunday paper. So instead of delivering one hundred papers like I do every other day of the week, I deliver one hundred and fifteen papers on Sunday. 

That was a preview of Here I Go Again: My Second Chance. To read the rest purchase the book.

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