To See Her One More Time

by TheMessenger

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Neil took off his glasses and wiped them on the side of his lab coat. "Does ever stop raining here?"

"They're called rain seasons for a reason," Eva answered with a roll of her eyes. "Deal with it."

The two began to examine their surroundings. Very little of the forest had changed, though much of the ground was now covered with dead leaves. Right below the giant tree that had served as their passage laid Robert on a quilt. His hands were folded over his chest, which slowly rose up and down as he snored. His hat and cane sat to his right and an old book was to his left. The book looked much like the one that would sit to his right while he died in the future, though Eva could not confirm without further inspection.

"Isn't that dangerous? Sleeping in the open rain?" wondered Neil. "I'm mean he's old so aren't his chances of catching pneumonia like, I don't know, fifty-five times more likely?"

"Where do you get these numbers?" Eva shook her head. "Whatever, he was fine when we saw him earlier. Guess you don't get to be a hundred without a decent immune system." She looked around and checked the watch-like device around her wrist. "Nothing else is here. We need to find and charge the next memento."

"The house is pretty close," Neil noted, pointing to the manor's roof that peaked out of the tree tops. "Well...allons-y!"

"One of these days, you'll run of quotes and catchphrases to steal."

"You may take my references...but you'll never take my freedom."

*****

"-and why couldn't we disable interactivity at least? I'm getting mud all over my shoes."

"A little psychological mud never hurt anyone. Suck it up," Eva said as she trudged through the wet dirt path leading to the house.

"Hey, I'm just saying, if we were floating heads, we wouldn't have to deal with trivial and barbaric acts like walking. Or do you not like being a head?"

Eva groaned but decided against gracing Neil's words with a response. Instead, she lifted her wrist and examined the device's monitor.

"We're getting close," she said, opening the door to the house.

Very little had changed in the house. There was a small polished table that wasn't there before holding bright blue flowers. A large umbrella case sat in the corner. The walls were decorated with flying pictures of vehicles and objects like in the future, though there were several more at the moment.

"I don't remember that one," Neil said, pointing at a painting that depicted a small small walnut-like object with humming wings zooming past red and green cloaked individuals riding broomsticks.

"Jessica did say Robert gave a lot away," Eva recalled. "He probably gave this one to a library or something like that."

"Huh."

For a few moments, Neil and Eva simply stood there and admired the art piece. They may have stood there for much longer had there not had been a shout from behind:

"Hey! What are you doing here?"

Eva turned suddenly, startled by the shout. Young Peter stood behind them, wearing a disapproving glare and a red box in the crook of his arm.

"Who are you?" the boy demanded.

Instead of answering, Neil and Eva turned to each other, their eyes wide.

"Why didn't you disable interactivity?" Eva asked.

"Why are you blaming me? You're suppose to be the responsible one!"

"I can't be expected to do everything!"

"Well I can't be expected to do anything!"

"You're the one always going on about how awesome we are."

"Awesomeness just flows out of me. I don't need to do anything to be awesome!"

"Why are you yelling?"

"I DON'T KNOW!"

They paused their argument momentarily and turned their attention back to the boy. Peter sucked in a deep breath.

"MOM, THERE ARE STRANGERS IN THE HOUSE!"

"Oh cucumbers," muttered Eva. "And resetting," she said as she tapped at her wrist-device rapidly.

"These aren't the droids you're looking for," Neil said to Peter as the room began to glow and disappear.

*****

"Let's try this again," Eva said with a sigh.

"Fine, disabling interactivity," Neil grumbled, fiddling with his device.

"Are you really that lazy?"

"Well, kinda. But messing around in the memories is half the fun."

Eva shook her head. "We'll get our chances later. Let's just find the next jumping point."

As she looked around, Peter appeared and walked through her. He was holding the red box in his arms.

"Mom!" he called. "Where's Mr. Bob?"

There was a sigh and Jessica appeared, wearing a green apron and holding a bowl of batter with the handle of a wooden spoon sticking out. "He just came back from a walk. He's probably taking a nap," she said. "Why?"

Peter frowned, appearing dejected. "Aw, he said he was gonna help us with the model he got us."

Jessica gave her son a weary smile and stoked his head gently. "I'm sure he didn't forget."

"Forget what?"

Robert was leaning against the railings of the stairs, his cane in hand. A blanket was draped over his shoulders. His eyebrow was raised.

"What did I forget this time?"

"You said you were gonna help me and Drew with the model you bought us," Peter said with a pout.

"That's right, I did, didn't I?" Robert said with a rueful grin. "Whelp, it can't be helped, can it? Let's get to work."

"Where is your brother anyways?" Jessica wondered aloud as she mixed the batter.

"Oh, we were playing with the super glue and Drew got some on one of your dresses. You know, the big white one you never wear."

"My...wedding dress?"

"So Drew Googled it and we found out the best way to get rid of super glue stains is toilet water."

"MOM!" a call came from upstairs. "WHERE'S THE PLUNGER?"

The bowl of batter clattered against the floor and swipe of a green apron.

"Don't worry Mom," Peter called after his mother, hurrying after her, leaving the box on the table next to the vase of flowers. "The Internet said so, so it must be true."

Robert's shoulders shook as he tried to maintain a straight face. "I'll call the plumber, again." And with that, he left as well, leaving Eva and Neil alone.

Neil knelt down and examined the box Peter had left. On it was the picture of a blue race car, decorated with silver lightning streaks over the doors and brand logos. A small light radiated weakly from it, like a small lantern.

Neil got back to his feet and took a step back. He extended his arms forward and pressed some buttons on his wrist-device.

"Kaaaaahhh mmmmmeeeehhhh...hhhhaaaahhh mmmeeehh..."

Eva groaned. "Not this again."

"...HAAAA!" Neil roared, flicking his arm. The light emitting from the box grew in intensity until it became near unbearable. Then, everything faded.

*****

"...and that's why you never cock-block a kamehameha."

Eva shook her head. "I still don't understand how we got on the topic of chickens...where are we now?" She looked around.

At first glance, they appeared to be at a fair. People wearing colorful shirts wander from stall to stall, their arms filled with greasy foods and cheap souvenirs. Checkered flags flew everywhere, hanging from stand canopies and clutched in the hands of tiny children. Cheers and exclamations were traded like currency between venders and customers. A small stadium stood in walking distance.

Robert stood in front of one of the stalls, his cane digging into the dirt as he leaned forward to examine the stall keeper's wares and to capitalize on the canopy's shade. Like the others, he wore a bright blue shirt, though it was much cleaner in comparison and wore light grey slacks.

The vender who sat on the other side of the stall was a stouter fellow, wearing a blue T-shirt stained with grease and sweat. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of cheap aviator knockoffs. A red trucker hat sat on his head that said /Nascar/ with a checkered pattern beneath. Under his messy red beard, the vender's lips formed a smirk.

"Anything catch your eye, pops?" he asked.

Robert shrugged. "What about this one?" he inquired, pointing to a box that displayed a blue race car with silver lightning streaks across the doors and brand logos adorning the hood and sides, the same box Peter had, or rather, would have.

The stall keeper picked up the box Robert was indicating to. "Oh yeah...this is a beau...what was it called? Oh right." He scratched the back of his head. "Think it's called the Cerulean Dash." He guffawed loudly. "It was named after an airline that was backing it, I think. Dumb name, if you ask me. So what'll be, pops?"

"Huh, oh right." Robert shook his head and rubbed his forehead. "Uh, how much?"

"Twenty bucks pal. An extra five and I'll add the instructions." The vender chuckled at his own joke.

Robert laughed as well. "I think I'll manage," he said, handing over a bill into the stall keeper's beefy hands.

*****

Neil and Eva wiggled their way through the crowded stands, doing their best to avoiding slipped soda and popcorn and chewed up gum. They found seats right above their client, which gave them a wonderful view of the black cement race track.

Every so often, Robert would turn his head away from the track and toward the sky.

"You don't think it'll rain, do you?" Neil wondered.

"I doubt it."

Cheers swelled as cars of all sorts of colors and advertisements began to occupy the track, mingling with the roars of engines.

"I can't believe the Indy's still around," Neil said. "I mean, it's just cars going in circles. How does anyone find any of it interesting? I mean, besides the crashes?"

"The Indy 500 is more than just cars going around in circles," explained Eva. "It's a celebration of the tenacity and the achievements of the Midwest as well as a recognition of the importance of the development of the automobile and the auto-industry. It represents the continual reconstruction the South faces, hence the circuits."

"Wait, really?"

"Pfft, no." Eva threw a hand full of popcorn into her mouth. "It's all about the crashes."

*****

Eva and Neil followed the crowd out of the stadium, keeping a close eye on Robert. Despite the sea of people, it wasn't to difficult to keep track of their client. Eva was having more trouble keeping Neil focused on their mission.

"...and another thing; how can this be considered a sport? I've got the same problem with poker and hockey."

"Hockey's total a sport-wait." Eva groaned. "Neil, try to remember why we're here."

"Um, to find out why Robert wants to see his daughter so bad but can't or won't?"

"Exactly. I think there might be a clue in this memory."

"Urgh," Neil groaned. "Guess it's too much to hope that one'll just fall in our hands. What do you think we're looking for?"

"Hm..." Eva shrugged. "Dunno. Just keep your eyes out."

The weight and difficulty of their mission dawned upon the two. "Another long night, then?"

"Yeah."

In a single breath, Neil, Eva, and Robert raised their heads to the sky and sighed, an incident that did not escape Neil or Eva.

"He seems disappointed."

"Well, yeah," responded Neil. "Not a single crash. I'm pretty disappointed too."

"Hold on..."

Robert approached a nearby plastic bin. He stuck his hands into his pocket and pulled two pieces of paper out. For a few moments, he just stood there, staring at what he held. With another hefty sigh, Robert threw the paper into the trash and turned and left. A relieving breeze caught the scraps and tossed them into Neil's hands.

"Huh? What the-"

Two ticket stubs sat between the bespectacled man's fingers. A small car was printed on each with the words "Indy 500: Single Admission" below.

"His tickets," Eva noted. "But why does he have two of them?"

"Dunno. Maybe...whoa!"

The stubs lit up like candles as Neil's wrist-device vibrated violently.

"The memento...Eva wait! Let me put it down before you-"

The light of the tickets became blinding and the people and stalls around them faded away in a sea of white.

Comments

[The Amateur]

"Pfft, no." Eva threw a hand full of popcorn into her mouth. "It's all about the crashes."

Favorite line of the chapter above.

Honestly, I could not ask for better execution of the characters (at least at surface level). There's still a fair number of chapters to go, so I expect an exploration of their depiction in the game at the critical points in the story. Nevertheless, this is a fun, lighthearted read so far!