Forever the 27th (a short story)

Nathan began to stir fitfully in his sleep. Then, realizing morning was again upon him, he awoke in a state of panic.

What day is it? he asked himself.

He turned on the television. The Today Show was on and Christian Bale was the special guest. And, posted prominently in the lower right corner was the date: November 27th. November 27th, he said to himself, it's yesterday - again!

He stared at the screen in disbelief. Impossible, he muttered. He then focused his eyes on the calendar posted on the wall - he had crossed out the 27^th with a black sharpie the day before - and yet, there it was, free from blemish.

This can't be happening. This is the third November 27th in a row!

He walked over to his bedroom window and looked out at the streets and buildings of San Francisco. He was uneasy. He had grown up in this city, and yet in that moment, everything felt strange and wrong.

A few more moments passed before Nathan remembered the bus.

There's a bus. It stops at the other end of town and I need to be on it...

Nathan looked up at the clock,

...and it leaves in exactly fifteen minutes!

Nathan bolted for the door and tore down the stairwell in a flurry of movement. He exited the apartment building and began his sprint toward the bus stop at the other end of town.

He hadn't run for more than a minute when a shrill scream brought him to a screeching halt. "Help!" a woman's voice cried out, "Someone please help!"

Nathan looked up. Thick clouds of smoke spilled from the windows of a nearby building. An elderly lady standing outside on the third floor spotted him. "My apartment caught fire and my cat is trapped inside! I need your help!"

I've seen this before, Nathan said to himself. Did I go up then? I don't remember...

Without waiting another second, Nathan entered the building and leapt up the stairs. When he reached the apartment, he found that the fire was not serious enough to prevent him from making a last minute search. Drawing a deep breath of air, he dove into the billowy smoke.

He searched the kitchen...

He searched the living room...

Where is this thing???

He searched the bedroom...

He searched the other bedroom...

Ahhhh, c'mon!

Finally, he searched the bathroom and instantly, his heart sank. There the cat was - laying lifeless in the bottom of the tub. It had died of smoke inhalation. Scooping up the heap of fur with both hands, he came back outside and solemnly presented the cat to its owner.

"My poor Mittens!" she cried, snatching it away from Nathan and bringing it close to her chest. "This can't be happening!"

Nathan offered his condolences and motioned her to the stairwell. Together, they descended the stairs to the street where they were met by fire fighters who had just arrived at the scene.

Nathan dusted the soot off his clothes and answered a few questions posed by the firemen. He then politely excused himself and again made his way across town. He was tempted to turn back, to console the old lady on her loss, but knew that there nothing more he could do. Focus on the bus, he reminded himself, you're almost there.

Too much time had slipped away. He saw the bus pull away from its stop two blocks away. He came to a halt and stared as it drove on its way out of the city. As it turned the corner, however, he recognized a familiar face.

No!

It was Violet! The girl that he pushed out of his life years before...she was on that bus! Sweet and kind Violet! Nathan watched helplessly as Violet disappeared from view, leaving him to wonder the possibilities.

-------------------------------------

Nathan began to stir fitfully in his sleep. Then, realizing morning was again upon him, he awoke in a state of panic. He turned on the television. The Today Show was on and Christian Bale was the special guest. Posted prominently in the lower right corner was the date: November 27th. Yesterday! Again!

Where's that Sharpie???

Nathan found the marker and re-drew a giant X through the 27th. Without waiting another moment, he left the apartment and jumped down the stairs, four steps at a time. Once he reached the bottom, he again ran toward his stop across town. When he had reached the end of his street, he heard a familiar cry.

"Help!" a woman's voice called out. "My cat!" Spotting Nathan, she waved her arms to draw his attention,

Mittens. He wanted to keep moving but knew he couldn't just leave the cat to die. Without hesitation, Nathan ran up the apartment building. He ran past the elderly lady into her apartment and went directly to the bathroom. He parted the shower curtains and found Mittens, curled up safely in the bathtub, scared but very much alive. He gathered her up and delivered her to the elderly lady outside.

"Oh, my poor Mittens!" the lady cried happily. "Thank you so much for your help!"

He couldn't afford to linger. "Listen, Ma'am. I have to run. Fire fighters are on the way. Good luck!" Nathan offered apologetically before running back down the stairwell. When he reached the street level, he was greeted by the arrival of fire trucks, ready to handle the situation.

His feet continued to pound the pavement. His lungs screamed for air. Determined to stop this endless loop of fifteen minutes of the same day, he fought through the pain in his chest and continued his sprint through the congested city blocks.

Only three more blocks! I can see the stop!

Just then, without warning, two cars collided into each other with a deafening crash. One of the drivers exited his vehicle and began shouting angrily,

"What were you thinking, lady!" he cried out, pointing to his car's crumpled hood. "Look at what you did to my car!"

The lady in the other car looked stunned but was equally upset.

"What?" she lashed out, "The light was yellow! This is your doing, not mine!"

The man's jaw dropped and his eyes landed on Nathan.

"Hey kid," he demanded, "you saw what happened. Tell this lady what you saw! Her hitting me!"

Flabbergasted and at a loss for words, Nathan looked dumbly at them both and simply shrugged. It had happened so fast. He did not know who hit who.

"Don't bring him into this, you reckless bum!" said the lady, her eyes hot with fire.

Nathan apologized and worked his way around the accident. Already, he could see the bus driving away from the stop. He again saw Violet, seated innocently near the back of the bus, completely unaware.

He scrambled for the bus, arms flailing, trying to catch the attention of the bus driver.

"Hey!" he cried out desperately. "Stop! Please! Stop!"

A few seconds later, the bus rounded the corner and disappeared from view. Breathless and disappointed, Nathan slowed his pace and soon stood quietly and completely still. The familiar clatter of city life swallowed him up, taunting him in an endless refrain.

-----------------------------------------------

Nathan began to stir fitfully in his sleep. Realizing morning was again upon him, he leapt from his bed and turned on the television. The Today Show was on and Christian Bale was the special guest.

Damn you, Christian Bale, he cursed under his breath. He checked the calendar and found it as clean as a whistle. He grabbed his Sharpie marker and crossed out the entire month of November. He made his way down to the street below.

On his way down the street, he spied the elderly lady yet again, stumbling out of her smoky apartment. Obviously, she had not yet remembered the plight of her cat. Without being asked, he climbed the stairs, entered her apartment, and emerged with Mittens safely in his arms. He presented the cat to her unceremoniously, and left her without a word.

He attacked the sidewalk with conviction. He expertly weaved his way through the urban foot traffic, bobbing up and down like a boxer in the ring. When he was three blocks away, he dashed into the middle of the intersection, forcing the cars around him to come to a screeching halt.

"Kid," an familiar male voice called out, "are you effing crazy?!"

But, Nathan never heard him – he was too giddy with excitement. Violet occupied his every thought. There was so much he wanted to say.

Just then, a bicycle messenger crashed into Nathan violently, knocking them both to ground. The bicyclist woozily sat up and turned to Nathan, who laid beside him unconscious. A couple blocks away, Violet took her seat in the back of the bus. She noticed that a couple of the passengers were peering out the back window, which prompted Violet to see what the fuss was about. Apparently, a bicyclist had collided with a pedestrian.

Wait, she said to herself, finding herself suddenly short of breath. She recognized the poor pedestrian's face.

Is that Nathan?!?

-------------------------------------

Nathan began to stir in his sleep. Then, realizing morning was again upon him, he leapt from his bed and turned on the television. The Today Show was on.

"And today, we have a very special guest," said the show's host, "promoting his new movie, please welcome Christian Bale!"

Nathan let out a long and melancholy sigh. Defeated and embittered, he sat on his bed with his head hung low. It seemed as though the City had set itself against him, intent on keeping Nathan trapped inside it forever. But, he wanted to reach out to Violet. Well, there's only one thing left to do, he decided.

He found his Sharpie and walked right past the calendar over to a blank poster board. In giant letters, he carefully wrote a few sentences. He then rolled it up and left the apartment, with the poster clutched tightly under his arm. He bounded down the stairs like a kangaroo.

Further down the street, the elderly lady called out for his help, right on schedule. From the street, Nathan cupped his hands around his lips and shouted back,

"Hey Miss! Mittens is in the bathtub. It's safe if you grab her now! Hurry!"

Confused, the startled lady looked at him for a few seconds before nodding in assent. Nathan continued to run.

Three blocks away, Nathan witnessed the two motorists crash into each other yet again. The male motorist tried to make an early left and hit the lady before she could leave the intersection. The male driver exited his vehicle and pointed to his crumpled hood.

"It's your fault, sir. You. You did this. Sorry for your accident." Nathan said matter-of-factly before resuming his run. Astonished, the male driver shook his head in disbelief before grinning sheepishly at the clearly unimpressed female motorist.

The bicyclist was shooting down the street like a rocket. Nathan saw him in advance and sidestepped out of his way, allowing the messenger to sail past him harmlessly. He saw the bus idling at the stop; Violet was just getting on. He kept running, still with the poster clutched under his arm.

When he was only a block away, it inexplicably started to rain. The road quickly became slick and Nathan slipped and tumbled onto the street. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bus pull away from its stop.

It's now or never.

He removed the poster from under his arm.

On the bus, a couple passengers had noticed a scene unfolding on the street behind them. Violet noticed them and looked in the same direction. She gasped.

Nathan?

Getting on his feet, Nathan unfurled a banner and held it high above his head for her to see. It was a sign. In giant letters it read:

One day I'll be on time! I promise!

pigs live here

Dinner was finally ready, and the family gathered around the table to eat. The table was set with with bowls of steaming rice and plates full of fresh kimchi, steamed yams, beef short rib and roasted seaweed. The kids began to eat, and my dad, as was his custom, called out into the kitchen for my mother to join us at the table.

"No, I have to start cleaning the house," came the curt and cold response. My dad looked stunned. Almost instantly the mood in the house chilled. I glanced over at my sister, Laurie, who shrugged in reply. I turned back to my plate and began to pick at my rice.

My mother marched around the living room, angrily picking up discarded jackets, socks, and backpacks. Once she finished collecting the offending articles of clothing, she then carried the entire heap into each of our rooms, dropping off the goods as she went. My dad watched silently from the dinner table, unsure of what he should do.

A few moments passed. "Honey," he called out sweetly, "can't that wait until after we've had a family dinner?"

"No, it can't." I paused for a second with kimchi and rice still in my mouth, trying to make sense of the situation. Meanwhile, my brother, Sean, seven years old then, continued to stuff his face with food, oblivious to the Cold War brewing between my father and mother.

My dad sighed dejectedly and rose from the table. My mom marched past him, both hands full of books and magazines not in their right places. Now on his feet but not knowing where to start, he decided to arrange the sofa cushions in a more presentable fashion.

"Do you think you're helping?" my mom sneered, dismissive of my dad's small gesture. My dad put both hands on his hips, as if to say, Well, what the fuck then?

"This house is ALWAYS a mess. And no one in this family cares to keep it clean or to help me every now and then. No one!" she thundered.

This outburst killed my appetite completely. I turned to Laurie and Sean, who had also set down their chopsticks and now guiltily wanted to help. Together, we rose up and joined our dad in clearing the living room.

My mom, of course, interpreted this as an act of rebellion. Instead of attacking us, she continued to point fingers at my dad.

"You lazy bum. Look at you. We both work, and yet when you come home, you do nothing. I do everything in this house, and you don't do anything but sit there and look stupid."

I winced. I looked at him and could sense the fire growing behind my father's eyes. I was afraid that this would escalate into some all-out war over nothing. I shouldn't have counted my dad out, who after several years of marriage, knew how to defuse my mom's hot temper.

"If you ask, I'll help. You know that. I mean, really, what's the point? We do what we can but we all know that the mess is going to return tomorrow anyway..."

"MOH-RA-GOH? (What did you say?) Look at this place!" My mom's face turned hard like stone. "It looks like PIGS live here."

"Honey..." he answered a bit softly now. He held up some of Sean's toys for my mom to see. "This is a mess, huh? Do you wanna know what I think?"

My mom stared back at him in confusion. What trickery is this?

"This is how I know that our kids have passed through here. This is the mess of a family, of a happy home."

My mother let out a short laugh, then shook her head in defeat. I hate it when you're right, her smile seemed to say. We all looked to my father, and following his lead, joined him at the table to finish our dinner.