Day 56 - Alike Story

Alike Story

Matthew Ryan Fischer

Gorgio didn’t remember being hit by the car.  He was thrown seven feet back and hit his head on the street, suffering a minor concussion.  His ribs were bruised, he skinned his hands and his tan suit jacket was ruined, but it seemed as if he came through free from major damage.  The experience as a whole was painful and most unpleasant, but couldn’t really recall the majority of it.  One of the many perks of having your short term memory retention suppressed by head trauma.

Gorgio opened his eyes to find a group had gathered around him.  He opened his mouth to speak and the words came back to him very slowly.  He was introduced to the car driver who apologized profusely.  He just hadn’t seen Gorgio there.  He swore he was looking at the road, not speeding, not drinking or texting or anything else that could have impaired his visual awareness.  He just couldn’t explain it.  One second Gorgio wasn’t there, the next he was, and one second later he was flying back through the air.

“I think I was running.  I don’t know...”

“Running in a suit like that?”

The idea of running in a suit made no sense, but Gorgio couldn’t explain it either.  He couldn’t remember.  The suit didn’t feel like it was his, but that could just be part of the disorientation.  He didn’t think the suit had anything to do with what just happened but how could he be sure?

Bystanders assured each other that Gorgio was going to live and that they had all done their civic duty by stopping and watching.  If rubbernecking saved lives, these people were the best doctors around. 

Soon the medics and the police arrived.  Gorgio answered questions as best he could and let the medical professionals do their job of examining him. There was some debate as to whether Gorgio needed to go to a hospital or not to have his head examined.  Everyone seemed to think the memory loss was due to the concussion, but no one wanted to let him go and be blamed if something worse happen.

That was when Gorgio saw the boy.  He was standing across the street just watching.  He didn’t seem too concerned with commotion; he was only concerned with Gorgio. They locked eyes.  And Gorgio knew.  He knew he knew this boy.  He just didn’t know how.

Gorgio freed himself from the officials and the gawkers and crossed the street.

“You... do I know you?”

“Are you okay?” asked the boy.

“Yes.  Fine I think.” Gorgio was finding it hard to breathe.  He felt lightheaded.  Probably a result of the concussion.

“I was worried. I saw you and I was worried.”

“Okay.  Look, um… you’re… what’s your name?”

The little boy giggled shyly dropping his eyes to the ground for a moment.

“Gorgio.”

Gorgio opened his mouth but no sound came out.  He was shocked, but not surprised.  It was the shock of realizing something you knew you knew. 

“Gorgio?  Gorgio.  You’re Gorgio.  Of course you’re Gorgio.”

The boy looked so familiar.  He was looking into a mirror.  A little Gorgio.  It was him as a child.  He wasn’t sure he ever was that young, but there he was, that young.

“Me.  You’re me.  Right?  You’re a child me?  Me as a child.  We’re we?  You and me.”

“You talk funny.”

“I guess.  I think I have the right to talk funny right about now.”

“I guess if you say so.”

“How is this possible?  Am I dead?”

“I don’t know.  Are you?”

“I don’t think so.  But this makes no sense.  You’re me. I’m you.”

“We are we.”

“So why is this happening?  I was running from something and was hit by a car.  What was I running from?”

“We shouldn’t be talking, but I wanted to meet you.  I’ve never met you and I didn’t want to not meet you.”

“Not meet me?  What are you talking about?  Why?  What was I running from?”

“You were scheduled.”

“Scheduled?  For what?”

“I really shouldn’t be talking to you. I just wanted to meet you.  They never let me meet you.  I’m sorry.”

Little Gorgio started to walk off.  Older Gorgio reached out and grabbed him.

“You can’t leave.”

“You old me, I’ll scream and those cops will arrest you.”

“You don’t want that.  You’ve already said you aren’t supposed to be talking to me. You don’t want any more attention than I do.”

“I can’t talk to you.  She won’t be happy.”

“She?  Who’s she?”

“I’m sorry that you’ve been scheduled, but that is not my fault.  You got old and I am young.  And that’s what she wants.  If you feel any empathy for me you will let me go.  It is not my time.”

Older Gorgio let go of little Gorgio.

“I’m sorry.  I really am.  You should run.”

Gorgio ran.