Sept 37

Oh my God, that's the last time I work with kids. They are always bad luck. My therapist kept telling me to take up an activity that got me out and made me interact with people, happy people. I figured if I was paying him, I might as well try what he suggested. It was also the last time saw I him.

In the paper there was an ad, Camp Counselor. Since I never went to summer camp I thought that it might be a good way to reclaim my youth, make some money, and I'd have a place to stay (ironically, it was also my last time sleeping in the crap box I called home). After couch hopping, and a week of training I was a certified monkey, who they sent out with a litter of chimps under my guidance, at least I wasn't alone. Another unfortunate accompanied us. He, unlike the trip, was pretty cool. We get to the camp, its rustic, maybe quaint. Outside the camp grounds there's a small hut, built into the mountain side, I actually admired its construction, but its inhabitant, uh, not so much. We should have left when she, the hut's occupant, came out and tried to make a deal with me for one of the kids. "I really like their soft skin." I just chalked it up to being a hermit, but now I see it was much more related to being an evil witch. And that's saying a lot, especially since I enjoy a bit of the black magic myself, but damn this woman was evil. After my refusal she angrily cursed the boy at my side and immediately he began to shoot off at the mouth, I mean literally, shoot off. Everything he said came out as a spray of bullets, uranium tipped of course. That's how the evening started, him crying, two kids with radiation poisoning and festering bullet wounds.
I was determined, though, and did not let this stop me. Soon all the children were suffering some aliment, 'my foot fell off' 'I've gone rabid'. Really I don't know how all these kids are going to make it in life, they complain sooooooo much. The topper came when great jagged x marks began showing up on everything. At that point I marched over to the witch's house and threw a barrage of pine cones at her door. The other counselor set out to find us another place to stay for the week. He was gone for about an hour, and when he returned it was finally some good news. We all got our belongings and body parts and trampled through the dark forest with the witch trailing us. Suddenly she became very agitated, and I saw that ahead was a cabin. In the witch's agitation she fills our path with door after door, and between the frames of each door she would cram two or three children, and it cost us much time and effort to remove each child from this peculiar position. Finally we willed our way through every trap she placed on our path and made it to the awkward cabin.
"this is great, you're going to love it,' my companion assured me, and at that point I believed him. But it was better than I imagined, which wasn't much. Through the door we entered another planet,
entirely.
Entirely calm
entirely what we were looking for.
Do you know where we are?
According to the sign, we are on the
planet of May.
May huh?
Not bad, smells good,
things are clean,
best of all
Bitchy McWitch can't seem to enter.
She tempered and tantrumed
on the other side of reality,
which was fine with me.
Through the night
it only ever became twilight,
the children returned to normal,
appendages reattached effortlessly
any unnatural effects were reversed
and wounds healed themselves.
It was so nice on May that we slept
with out fire, with out bags
without tension or trouble.
That night on May I had a dream.

I was back home, and now it's my place. My family was gone. I was with my friends, gathered in the kitchen discussing possible decorating tips. The house was empty, of everything. No dishes, no plants, no towels, no lights, just a house. I hear something upstairs, in the attic. Everyone's gone now, I am standing at the foot of the stairs. The noise is louder, it sounds like furniture moving, footsteps, even voices. I am filled with fear, trembling as I head to the attic door. Finally I am there, in front of my phantasmic fear; as I reach to push open the door, it opens on its own. There in front me was a man, in a uniform, with arms full of boxes, boxes of my stuff. I jumped back, startled, and he walked right past me. The attic is full of people just like him, and I plead with them, tug on the furniture, yell profanities, and they go about working diligently, until all the items are gone. Defeated I stand in the sun coming in through the sky light. I look at the two men left; they are talking to each other, and then they stop. I hear one say to the other: 'Do you see that?' They look at me, turn pale and run out of the room. Outside they get in their car, and peel away. It took me a few minutes to realize that I am the phantom, I am the ghost living among the rubble, and that my time here had passed.

When I woke up it was still lovely on May, and most of the kids had been up for hours walking about, playing games, and that is how we spent the remainder of our week, exploring the wonderfully hospitable planet of May. When we left, we dressed as trees and snuck past the witch's place and safely back to the bus, which was covered in graffiti. They docked us half our pay to clean the bus, but I was glad to get the money.

Sept 30

I just got back. Ted and Dan and I went up into the hills. The newest totally renewable housing model was released just a few months ago, John, our friend, designed this one, so we agreed to take it to display in some of the more 'earth friendly' towns in the state. I had always had this image of Elm being a more sophisticated place than it turns out to be. We arrived Friday night at dusk, so set up was hardly noticed, since most everyone was at supper. Once night had established itself, some of the residents came around for a look, mostly the smoking patrons of the local tavern. They'd come over and kick the side walls, ask inane questions and then mosey back in for another drink. The main plaza had yet to be paved and was also at the lowest point in town, something that became quickly apparent once it started to storm. We spent that night playing dominos on an old card table that also served as the leasing and information office during the day. The entire night was spent there, the only furnishings inside the soft and saturated walls. Most of the night was spent in silence, only the dripping of water, the shuffling of cards and an occasional throat being cleared. To complete the ambiance, we only had a large flashlight, which was placed upright on top of our bags. One end of the experimental structure was bright, the other black as night, and we sat in the luminescence limbo.
The only conversation to transpire that evening began much calmer than it ended, and for the remainder of the trip we were all taken back by what went on.

You just laid that card down, Ted began
It wasn't my turn, Dan played it, I retorted.
Wait a minute, these are my cards from last time
Maybe you just forgot that this is still the same game
Dan pointed out.
what the...my cards are different, there from a game we haven't played yet
I suddenly realized.
Don't mock me, Ted protested
I'm not
Dan turned to me, How could you have cards from a game
that hasn't been played yet, wouldn't those be your present cards.
But they're not my present cards, my present cards are the ones I
had just a moment ago, I quickly explained.
I don't know what you two are talking about, I don't have any problems; Dan was clearly uneasy.
Well, let's see your cards Dan,
Ted demanded.
You don't see anything wrong with your cards, I questioned.
No, why should I?
Dan there's nothing on your cards, they're blank.
No they're not; I have an 8 of Hearts, a 6 of... Holy fucking shit!
Dan flung the cards on the table
they collected perfectly in the center,
and then we heard our whole conversation,
aloud, while we said
not a word.
Faintly we could see,
around the cards that were dealing them selves
playing hand after hand, the hint of
ourselves, dealing those cards,
getting up from the table, smoking
cigarette after cigarette.

I still have no apt way of describing that evening's events. Ted thinks we were at the transition point of several universes, all parallel. How could they be parallel if it was a crossing point, but he corrected me, it is not the universes crossing, it was us crossing. Is that possible? I never spent much time in science class, and although I have heard many theories of quantum this and physics that, I am not convinced that is what we experienced. I think of it as a collective memory, even the parts that hadn't taken place yet were all within the possibility of the moment. Never once did we see any component that wasn't already there, no talking ferns, no robots, nothing that didn't already exist in our environment. So we saw, in a detached manner, what we had done or would be doing. Ted doesn't believe me. That's okay though, I slashed his tires.