One Day in Summer, Page 2

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  Aran stepped out the gate as the familiar feeling of repetition took hold of him; he was stepping into himself, over and over again. He found himself repeating the same old promise he'd uttered as he went through the portal for the first time. “I’m going to find out what happened.”

  He stared up into the cloudless morning sky and felt the sunshine on his flushed face. Edinburgh was in the grip of a heat wave. Princess Street Garden was hot and crowded. The city bustle of Princess Street filled the gardens with white noise as the Castle shimmered in Mediterranean temperatures. The local radio station announced it was the hottest day Edinburgh had seen in recorded history. Festival season was here and things were already in full swing. The city packed with people from all over the world, both participants and spectators. The unusual was commonplace.

  This was his favourite day. The day he lost his virginity to ‘the woman in the yellow bikini’; all those years ago, before the gates were even thought possible.

  He took a deep breath of the fresh summer air and looked round; his companion was nowhere to be seen.

  Navaya had left a note on the ground, pinned down with a stone. It read ‘Gone Shopping.’ She'd broken free and jumped through the gate only moments before him. Time could be stretchy when you gate, he thought.

  He walked to his favourite spot, lay down on the warm grass and was sound asleep when Navaya joined him. As always, she awoke him by prodding him in the ribs with a red stiletto. She carried a large yellow cool-bag which bulged with picnic stuff, several parcels and a tartan throw.

  She spread out her newly-purchased blanket, adjusted her skirt and lay down beside him.

  Navaya held out her hand, showing a few coins.

  “The change,” she said, beaming from ear to ear. “Oh, I’ve spent an absolute fortune again. I could never have afforded all this stuff, you know, before.”

  She ran her hand back and forth along the edge of the blanket until she found a loose thread and started picking it. More stitching came away as she wound the loose fibre around her fingers.

  Aran scowled. ”Every bloody time, you just bought that and you’re tearing it to pieces already.”

  “Hey, don’t panic, lover. I’ll just get another one next time.’ She sounded distracted, far away, but still continued to pull at the loose threads. “Money’s nothing. We can easily get more. Just visit the bookies or something. Jeez… It only takes the right knowledge at the right time. That’s what you keep saying, right? Simple.” She had turned on her front, kicking her legs in the air. One of her red shoes fell off.

  “Hey-Presto.” She held a large ball of ex-throw above her head. Her eyes widening as she flashed a practiced smile. Arran narrowed his eyes and bit his lip.

  “What’s wrong, lover?”

  Aran stared up at the familiar skyline. “Why do you call me that?”

  “Hope, lover.” She winked.

  Aran sighed. “How many more times do I have to say it? I can’t. It just doesn’t feel right. It’s me, I just can’t think of you like that. It just feels…”

  Navaya raised her finger to his mouth, sliding it slowly over his lips.

  “Well, you don’t see that every day,” she said.

  Navaya shaded her eyes, pointing at a jester on a unicycle.

  He sighed. 'You say that every time we see him.'

  'I do not.'

  'Yes, you do. Any minute now, you'll point out the pom-pom buttons on his costume and say how authentic they look.'

  'Well, it is authentic,' she said. 'Don't forget. I've seen the real thing. And that is the real thing. Even down to the pig's bladder...' He mouthed the words as she spoke them. She nudged him, and winked. Then pointed to a small metal broach pinned to the sleeve of the costume. “Look a bit closer, you always miss that,” she giggled.

  The middle of the broach held a small jewel-shaped LED, pulsing blue and red.

  They each had a similar device. Navaya breathed heavily on hers and polished it with her forearm.

  “Well, that’s different. Very authentic, this is one for the diary,” he smiled.

  Aran slid his finger across a small device strapped to his wrist and a shimmering blue screen appeared in the air in front of him.

  His right index finger poked at the shimmering light, before writing something in the air.

  “You know that means they’re watching us,” whispered Navaya.

  Some more finger prodding signified the end of his diary entry.

  “Who’s watching?”

  “You know, them, the Gate police.”

  “So what, they always watch, that’s there job.”

  “Oh, that’s their job,” she mocked. “I think they’re really watching us, lover. We come here way too much.”

  Navaya pulled the corners of her mouth down with the tips of her pink nails and made sad eyes.

  “Can’t you stop poking about with that bloody thing for once?” She sighed. “It’s all poke, poke, poke with you, lover.” A large predatory grin crept over her face. “Anyway, don’t you think it’s all getting a bit too ‘retro’ round here?”

  “You’re one to talk, Miss Sixties fashion-victim.” He smirked.

  Navaya stuck her tongue out.

  “Act your age, woman.”

  She stooped forward, craning her back as she shook her hands in front of his face.

  “How about this then, dearie?” She crackled in a ‘frail old lady’ voice.

  She stared into the crowd, with a wide-eyed puzzled look.

  “So how come there aren’t hundreds of us all running around everywhere, all with me in the same pink dress?”

  Arran drew a deep breath, sometimes Navaya could be a bit of a sieve brain.

  “Not again, I explained last time.”

  “So explain again, lover.”

  “It’s all quantum.” Aran punctuated the sentence with a wink.

  “Oh, well. Quantum, yes, quantum, I see. No I don’t.”

  “Well, it’s like watching an interactive movie. You can start it over and over, but you always see more or less the same thing with slight differences, depending on the choices you make. See?”

  “No.”

  “Well, when we come through the gate, we step into ourselves at the beginning of the movie, the same beginning every time, not a different one for each showing. Get it?”

  “No.”

  Navaya rolled over pulled a daisy from the grass and plucked a petal.

  “He loves me.” She plucked the head off. “He loves me not.”

  Aran shifted position, hanging over her, just enough to look his companion in the face.

  “How long have we been friends again?”

  “You’re losing your memory again, lover,” she hissed.

  “I remember playing football in the school gym, while a group of giggling girls looked on from the viewing gallery.” Aran grinned. “I remember that my best friend never seemed very interested in them.”

  “Changed days, best-friend.” She laughed. “Changed days… You know, I’ve never asked. Why did you change your name lover?”

  Aran sighed. “Well, those changed days, they changed me as well as you. After a while I just wasn’t Kev anymore. No big deal.”

  Aran gazed further along the gardens towards a small clump of trees; his thoughts wander back to college, to chasing after girls and to the friend who was always there for him.

  “I remember that day.” His eyes clouded; his voice lowered to a rumble. “I remember everything about the woman in the yellow bikini, except what she looked like. How can you forget something like that?”

  Aran drew in a long breath.

  “I used to remember exactly what she looked like, every detail. I can remember remembering. Then it just seemed to go.”

  Navaya mouthed the words as she turned to sun her back, hitching her pink sundress up to her thighs.

  He raised his head back to the sky, recognising the familiar patterns i
n the small patches of cloud floating into view.

  Navaya pulled her knees in tight under her chin, and looked over towards the same small clump of trees where William and Kevin sat. Two flesh-and-blood ghosts from the past, laughing at some juvenile joke. She had long ago forgotten what that joke might have been, but it was easy to see they were best friends.

  Williams’s vibrant shoulder length red hair shone in the sunlight, as did her own. Kevin’s mess of mottled brown was liberally sprinkled with grass. They were happy in their world, unaware of the wonders and pains to come.

  "We could go over there, you know. Ask the time, walk past and smile even. Why don't we?" She bit her lip as her eyes rolled round to meet his.

  He grinned. “Some rules are there for good reason. We were told that remember? And we may be being watched, remember.”

  Navaya twitched and fidgeted, fussing with her dress.

  “Rules, rules, rules. What will the neighbours say?” She pursed her lips, covering her mouth with her hand and sprung bolt upright, eyes wide, red hair flying. “It’s only, just over there, come on. We could you know.” She clasped her hands behind her back, the knuckles whitening as she hoped from foot to foot. Her eyes fixed on the boys under the trees.

  “Come on, let’s go, go, go. Who cares, it’s all in the past, yes?”

  Aran laughed. “No,”

  Navaya sat next to him and started to fiddle with her hair.

  Aran lay silent for a while. His right index finder would occasionally move as he lay staring into the sky.

  “You’re pissing about with that diary again, aren’t you? Give it here, let me see.” She lunged at his wrist but he easily pulled away.

  Navaya lay down again and waved her arms up and down on the throw, snow-angel style.

  “Why do you always fiddle with that thing anyway? I can think of better things for you to fiddle with. I’m bored stiff, lover.” She stopped moving her arms and dug her fingers into the grass.

  “You know why.” His words were far away.

  “It’s the last time I’m coming back here with you.”

  Aran turned to stare at her, his mouth slightly open making fish motions.

  “It’s ok for you. You haven’t any gaps. I have to know why I can’t remember.”

  His face relaxed, taking on a far-away look. Something stirred; some long forgotten thing wrinkled his face with effort.

  “That young Doctor you were seeing was always fussing around me. He always had a slightly panicked look on his face, and often threw furtive glances in your direction. You were always fumbling in his pockets and mumbling in corners…” He looked accusingly at Navaya. “I think I started loosing my memory when you were seeing that young doctor.” His words were slow and deliberate. “I miss my old friend, I want to see the woman again, most of all I want to know why I can’t remember.” His gaze intensified, looking for any change in her expression. “I just thought, maybe if I see it happening, I would know why there are holes in my memories.”

  Navaya stared at him her lips pressed tight shut, a tear rolled down her porcelain cheek. She lowered her head and looked at her new body. She has the perfect figure, like something out of a fancy magazine, she thought. She was a living testament that given enough time, genetic modification surgery and perseverance you could perform miracles. She wiped away the tear, but was it a lie.

  “It isn’t healthy, lover. We’re going to have to move on.” Her eyes fixed on him, her mouth a thin dry line.

  She moved closer, putting her slender arm round his shoulder. Her head almost touched his.

  “You just don’t get it, do you lover?” She whispered in his ear. Her voice wavered. “That’s not us anymore. We are here, you and I, here now. That boy and his friend grew up. They got older, they changed, but they never grew apart, never. That’s not us, not anymore, lover.” Another tear rolled down her cheek. Her gaze darted over his body, not settling long enough for him to look her in the eye. “Refreshments time,” she announced, rummaging in the large yellow cool-bag.

  She produced two bottles of soda and offered one to Aran. Her hand hovered briefly above the open neck, this time she dropped the pill in the grass. This time Aran wouldn’t fall asleep.

  This was the first time she hadn’t pulled the sleeping pill trick since beginning her surgery. It was all uncharted waters from now on. She disliked seeing her old self, but liked seeing the old Aran, the young and innocent Aran, her Kev. A sly smile flittered over her lips. She liked seeing Kev very much, in fact she loved it.

  “Well, what do I say now, lover?” She blushed. “I’m your best friend, always have been and always will be, and I love you. I always have.”

  It was the first time Aran had ever seen her blush.

  “But I’m so bored with this, bored, bored, bored, lover. This is the absolute last time.” Navaya jumped up. “You want to know who the woman in the bikini was, well I’ll show you.” She peeled off her pink overdress to reveal a small yellow bikini.

  She looked at Aran as she skipped towards the clump of trees where the two young men had lain.

  The dark haired boy had left. The red haired boy lay on the grass. The similarities between her and the boy were striking. He could have been her brother; of course they both knew he wasn’t.

  Aran jumped up and took a step towards her. He looked at the boy sobbing in the grass. He looked at the strikingly beautiful person walking away from him.

  His mouth opened then closed again.

  Her long fire-red hair whipped up as she looked back.

  “I didn’t tell the whole truth, but I could never lie to you, lover.” A tear rolled down her cheek, leaving a trail in her makeup.

  Aran stretched out his arm.

  “Don’t go. I’d like to get that sarsaparilla and whisky now, if you still want to.”

  Her worried look broke into a thin smile.

  “I really should have gone the first time, when you were still William.”

  Navaya held out her hand.

  “I know Kev. Still, it’s better late than never, lover.”

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  Thank you for reading One Day in Summer.

  About the author:

  Garry Grierson was the first of three children born to Jeanette and Tom.

  He came into this world on the ninth of October 1968, and is now quite old.

  After an unremarkable childhood growing up in a small mining village in Fife, Scotland, he mailed his first short-story entry to a competition aged twenty; receiving his very first form-rejection letter.

  From then on he has continued the dream of publishing that first Novel. Whenever real-life as a husband and applications developer doesn’t get in the way.

  Although he has had some success with short-stories the dream of publishing that elusive Novell still lingers on.

  Connect Me Online:

  Twitter: https://twitter.com/garryg68

  Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/people/Garry-Grierson/1486744595

  My writing blog: https://g2writing.blogspot.com/