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Here I Go Again: My Second Chance

Liza Devereaux

Cover

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


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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


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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


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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


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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