You never think you are going to meet yourself coming back the other way. You are traveling down this highway of life, you may have some inkling of your destination, but you never expect to come across the you that has been to the end of the road. I sure as hell didn’t, it didn’t even occur to me until I saw myself walk through the door of that coffee house.
The Locutory wasn’t extraordinarily busy for a Tuesday afternoon. Graduation had been the previous weekend, and the town had lost half its winter population to the freedom of summer. I was sitting with Ashley at a table near the door. We were playing Go and philosophizing the nature of existence. Our summer teaching assitantships wouldn’t start for another week and we looking at a wide open summer filled with opportunity. I was contemplating the next stone placement and riffing off Kant when Ashley gasped.
I looked up from the board and then turned to see what she was gapping at. And there I was standing at the door, shaking the rain off of a well worn leather coat.
“Oh my god, is that your dad? He looks just like you. I thought he died when you were a kid?”
I turned back to her and slouched in my chair, “he’s not my dad. It’s hard to explain.” It was hard to explain, there was no reason it could be me, but I knew instinctively that I was looking at myself 30 years down the line.
“He’s coming over here,” Ashley hissed at me.
She made it sound like I had time to something about him, but he took two steps and was standing next to the table looking down at us. “Peter I need to talk to you.”
Ashley looked from me to him and back again, “Peter aren’t you going to introduce us?”
The older me smiled, “Allow me. You’re Ashley right?” He offered his hand at her nodding accent, “You can call me Simon.”
Ashley shook his hand, “Simon. Peter has mentioned me?”
“You’ve come up a time or two. Do you mind if I have a few moments with Peter?”
“Not at all,” rising she picked her purse off the table, “I have to use the restroom anyway.”
Simon watched her walk away, smiling as if reviewing a fond memory he took her chair. Looking down at the board he picked up a white stone and started rolling it around his palm, “If I remember correctly it’s your move.”
Picking a stone up between my index and middle fingers I resumed my contemplation of the board. “You’ve played this game before?”
“Yes, only once. I was sitting where you are now.”
Placing my stone to cut off his advancement towards the edge of the board I asked, “You mean that literally don’t you?”
He thought a moment before placing his white stone in an undeveloped area of the board, “Quite literally.”
I looked up from the board into his eyes, “so did you chose where to put that stone, or are you just doing what you saw yourself do before?”
When he smiled his face bunched up and I almost touched my own face to trace the lines where those wrinkles began. “I don’t know that it really matters. One of us had to come up with where to put the stone at some point. Maybe I just chose some random intersection of lines, the placement was determined by the quantum mechanical probabilities of our brain. It’s your move.”
Looking back down at the board I picked up a stone and placed it without really giving thought to why, “You didn’t come all this way for a tautology of chronological paradoxes, so why are you here.”
He quickly placed a stone cutting off one of my lines. “Now that’s a mystery. I had hoped by the time I had come to the point where I’m sitting on this side of the table I would know why I came here in the first place.”
I stopped half way to picking up a new stone, “so when you were sitting in my chair, the you that’s sitting in your chair never told you why he was here?”
Simon sighed, “The timeline of this event has progressed the same as when I was sitting in your chair. I have no further light to shed on the matter.” Placing his hand on the board he messed up the game we were playing, “Ashley is coming back, and it’s time for me to go.”
Ashley returned as Simon stood to leave, “Leaving so soon Simon?”
Turning toward her he touched her arm lightly, “I am afraid my time here was destined to be short. I enjoyed seeing you.” Looking down at me he shrugged, “I’m sorry Peter, I wish there was more I could say or do.”
I nodded, “I know. Will I see you again?”
He smiled, “obviously,” patted me on the shoulder and walked out.
Ashley regained her seat across from me, “Who was that?”
Turning behind me to look at the door I had just walked out of I said, “Just a guy that knew me when he was younger.” I looked back at her and then down at the board, “looks like our game is messed up, want to start a new one?”
The Locutory wasn’t extraordinarily busy for a Tuesday afternoon. Graduation had been the previous weekend, and the town had lost half its winter population to the freedom of summer. I was sitting with Ashley at a table near the door. We were playing Go and philosophizing the nature of existence. Our summer teaching assitantships wouldn’t start for another week and we looking at a wide open summer filled with opportunity. I was contemplating the next stone placement and riffing off Kant when Ashley gasped.
I looked up from the board and then turned to see what she was gapping at. And there I was standing at the door, shaking the rain off of a well worn leather coat.
“Oh my god, is that your dad? He looks just like you. I thought he died when you were a kid?”
I turned back to her and slouched in my chair, “he’s not my dad. It’s hard to explain.” It was hard to explain, there was no reason it could be me, but I knew instinctively that I was looking at myself 30 years down the line.
“He’s coming over here,” Ashley hissed at me.
She made it sound like I had time to something about him, but he took two steps and was standing next to the table looking down at us. “Peter I need to talk to you.”
Ashley looked from me to him and back again, “Peter aren’t you going to introduce us?”
The older me smiled, “Allow me. You’re Ashley right?” He offered his hand at her nodding accent, “You can call me Simon.”
Ashley shook his hand, “Simon. Peter has mentioned me?”
“You’ve come up a time or two. Do you mind if I have a few moments with Peter?”
“Not at all,” rising she picked her purse off the table, “I have to use the restroom anyway.”
Simon watched her walk away, smiling as if reviewing a fond memory he took her chair. Looking down at the board he picked up a white stone and started rolling it around his palm, “If I remember correctly it’s your move.”
Picking a stone up between my index and middle fingers I resumed my contemplation of the board. “You’ve played this game before?”
“Yes, only once. I was sitting where you are now.”
Placing my stone to cut off his advancement towards the edge of the board I asked, “You mean that literally don’t you?”
He thought a moment before placing his white stone in an undeveloped area of the board, “Quite literally.”
I looked up from the board into his eyes, “so did you chose where to put that stone, or are you just doing what you saw yourself do before?”
When he smiled his face bunched up and I almost touched my own face to trace the lines where those wrinkles began. “I don’t know that it really matters. One of us had to come up with where to put the stone at some point. Maybe I just chose some random intersection of lines, the placement was determined by the quantum mechanical probabilities of our brain. It’s your move.”
Looking back down at the board I picked up a stone and placed it without really giving thought to why, “You didn’t come all this way for a tautology of chronological paradoxes, so why are you here.”
He quickly placed a stone cutting off one of my lines. “Now that’s a mystery. I had hoped by the time I had come to the point where I’m sitting on this side of the table I would know why I came here in the first place.”
I stopped half way to picking up a new stone, “so when you were sitting in my chair, the you that’s sitting in your chair never told you why he was here?”
Simon sighed, “The timeline of this event has progressed the same as when I was sitting in your chair. I have no further light to shed on the matter.” Placing his hand on the board he messed up the game we were playing, “Ashley is coming back, and it’s time for me to go.”
Ashley returned as Simon stood to leave, “Leaving so soon Simon?”
Turning toward her he touched her arm lightly, “I am afraid my time here was destined to be short. I enjoyed seeing you.” Looking down at me he shrugged, “I’m sorry Peter, I wish there was more I could say or do.”
I nodded, “I know. Will I see you again?”
He smiled, “obviously,” patted me on the shoulder and walked out.
Ashley regained her seat across from me, “Who was that?”
Turning behind me to look at the door I had just walked out of I said, “Just a guy that knew me when he was younger.” I looked back at her and then down at the board, “looks like our game is messed up, want to start a new one?”
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