Draft 2019.05.23, Recent edit: 2019.05.27
“Bravo. Bravo. I have always wanted to hear your concerts for myself, but never found the time or had the chance.”
Brandon’s ears picked up the footsteps as they approached him. They were heralded by the slow, methodical clapping of their owner. Underneath it all, he could detect the hint of a barely audible note.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
But the surge of questions that plagued the recesses of his mind could barely be contained by his will to remain calm. For Brandon had only once before experienced a total silent background like this before — and that memory still haunted him.
“There’s no need to be afraid,” came a jovial voice from beyond the piano. “You are perfectly safe.”
Brandon’s hands twitched as he felt his way around the piano and for his cane. The voice was both smooth and full of laughter but lingered longer than any sound should in his ears, an echo that reverberated throughout the recesses of Brandon’s mind. A powerful voice, one that could only be called timeless.
“What… have you done with the rest of the auditorium?” Brandon asked cautiously, feeling his fingers touch the cane.
Then he started as the cane was put into his hand. The voice was closer now.
“They’re perfectly fine. Though, I think you were expecting me?” the footsteps stopped, and Brandon duly noted the lack of an echo. “My name is Kolo.”
Seconds passed, then Brandon blurted out his recognition, “You’re the Time Merchant?” He hastily dipped a hand into his dress shirt’s pocket, pulling out the card that the journalist had handed him. His sensitive fingers felt the raised, embossed letters before thrusting it in the voice’s direction. “This is your card?”
“Yes. Did you enjoy meeting Michelle?”
Brandon paused, thrown off by the sudden question. As he steadied his racing thoughts and the sudden development of the situation, Brandon pondered the meaning of the question.
It did not take long for Brandon to realize that Kolo was implying that he knew the circumstances of their encounter. Struggling to contain his rising anxiety in the silent void, he searched for the best way to answer the question.
He eventually answered, “Yes. She seemed far more sure of herself, and certain of her actions. A far better interviewer now than when I first met her.”
“Excellent to hear. And now,” The Time Merchant’s voice took on a grandiose tone, “I am here for you. There is something you want.”
Brandon’s sense of unease spiked. A feeling more keenly sharp on his mind than the underlying sense of sensory deprivation that was the silence in the grand auditorium. A realization of who he was talking to. Of what was happening around him.
The sensation boiled angrily in his thoughts; dredging up the series of events that had occurred in order for Brandon to be at this very place. Pulling at the root cause that had led to this chain of events, and he could only blurt out the first thing that came to his mind.
“Michele told me that the Garden does not hold the solution.”
Brandon waited for a reply with trepidation.
“No,” came Kolo’s weary sigh. “No, it does not. And that is why I am here.”
Sucking in a breath he did not know he had been procrastinating, Brandon considered his next words.
“You can restore my sight.”
“No,” came the Time Merchant’s voice, “Not restore. It was never whole. You already know the answer to this, Brandon.”
“Mere semantics,” Brandon pressed on, excitedly waving his hand, “You can help me see.”
But a gentle hand caught his arm.
“Not in that way, Brandon. To return your eyes to a prior condition is not going to help when you were born without sight.”
“What does it matter? Can you help me see or not?” Brandon asked, shrugging his arm out of the grip.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The distinct sound of a finger tapping against the piano’s wooden frame. Brandon wondered if Kolo was deep in thought.
The Time Merchant finally replied, “Not in the way you imagine, and it would not be something you would pay for. The Garden has already told you your snag.”
After a few moments, Brandon spoke with desperation. “But, you are the Time Merchant. You can…change time, no? Even if you cannot heal my eyes, you can do things that technology cannot. The Garden told me that it was because I can’t comprehend the sensory information, but surely you have a way around it?”
Brandon waited with bated breath for the Time Merchant’s reply. It seemed to him as though it took forever.
“I already said that your eyes were never whole to begin with. The Garden is right; even if your eyes worked, your brain cannot understand the senses that your eyes gather. There is an alternative, but you would not want to pay it,” the Time Merchant eventually said. “After all, this isn’t the wish you should be making, Brandon.”
“What is the alternative?” Brandon was determined. “I should at least know.”
The Time Merchant’s answer came slowly. “Instead of something as cheap as restoring just your eyes to a working condition, it will be a complicated method of putting you in an alternative reality where you were not born blind. A far more expensive wish.”
The silence threatened to close in on his thoughts as Brandon pondered the implications, before asking, “And the price is…?”
“The price is something you wouldn’t pay, Brandon.”
“To…to have what you people call sight? A price I wouldn’t pay? How would you know?” Brandon steeled himself, wanting to shout, anger flaring at feeling his last hope being snatched away. “You don’t know what lengths I’ve gone to in order to obtain my birthright. So tell me: what’s the price?”
Brandon heard a long, drawn-out sigh.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
“Imagine a girl that’s never walked, Brandon. Born without the ability to walk. If I turned back time and all I did was change her past so that she was born with her legs whole, that creates a different timeline. The past that caused her to make her wish now wouldn’t have changed for her alone. Which is why I would have to perform a time shift: pushing her consciousness into a timeline where she was born with whole legs. Where she not only has a past that allowed her to walk, but all the experience that came along with it.
And just like your eyes; you don’t know how to use them. I’m not saying something is wrong with your brain; it’s just that the Brandon I’m talking to right now has never used his eyes. You’d be as adept with them as a girl that just received her legs. And considering your age, it would take you far too long to master sight.”
The tapping stopped, and Brandon heard Kolo take a deep breath. “Did that make sense?”
Brandon’s fingers rested gently on his lap as he thought deeply, then chose not to answer. Instead, he stated, “That girl. She was a true story, wasn’t she?”
The Time Merchant’s response could not disguise the tinge of surprise, “Yes. She wanted to dance.”
“And did she pay the price?”
“….She did, in the end, yes.”
Brandon’s fingers tightened around his cane. “Tell me the price, Time Merchant Kolo.”
“Just Kolo is fine,” the answer came immediately. Almost well-practiced. “Oh well, it couldn’t hurt to tell you.”
Brandon recoiled from the answer to his question.
“That…” he felt stunned, searching for the right word, “That’s the price?”
“Yes,” Kolo replied. “A bargain, nevertheless. Well, for your time period.” A shuffling sound, and the voice was closer. “But don’t bother, Brandon. It’s not really what you want, is it?”
“What?” asked Brandon. “Not what I want? Of course I want it! I want to know how beautiful Nicole is. I hear about it all the time and endure the snide remarks – the people that are only constantly reminding me how beautiful my girlfriend is. I want to know.” His fingers relaxed around his cane. “I want to be able to see for myself.”
“You’re sure?” asked Kolo’s voice. Brandon frowned inwardly. Kolo’s voice sounded almost pleading. “Shouldn’t you make that what you want, and wish for that instead?”
Brandon’s neck bulged as he steeled his throat. “And what would you know of what I want? I simply desire the truth.”
“The truth,” Kolo sighed, “An expensive desire. We all desire it, yet few are willing to face it when confronted with it.”
“I’m confused,” Brandon finally said, “for a merchant, you seem very unwilling to do business with me.”
“Just as you are not always the Blind Pianist, I don’t always speak as the Time Merchant,” Kolo answered flatly, “and it would be remiss of me to push an expensive purchase to a client. It’s important for you to know all your options.”
Tick. Tick. Tick. Brandon was startled as his mind registered anew the ticking that had blended into the silent background. He hated that silence that pressed in on his thoughts. The way that it brought his own breathing, his thinking, his heartbeat to the forefront. It was unnecessary pressure.
“But I see you’ve made your choice, Brandon.”
“Have I?” Brandon’s reply was scathing, surprising even himself as he continued, “Did I even have a choice? You know what today is. I’ve already guessed what’s happened around us. It would make sense to me that as someone who has dominion over time itself already knows all the events that surround this meeting and I am only playing into your hand. I don’t even think I have free will anymore. Or do I? Was my choice ever my choice?”
Tick. Tap. Tick. Tap. Tick. Tap. Tick. Tap.
Brandon waited, but the horrendous silence was only permeated by the rushing of blood in his ears, the sound of his own heartbeat, and the background ticking that he was now acutely aware of, ticking away in tandem with the rhythm of the Time Merchant’s finger. He realized his hand was shaking, and gripped his cane even tighter.
Tick. Tap. Tick. Tap. TAP. And the Time Merchant answered.
“You are very brave, Brandon. To answer your question: I would not be here, at this moment, if you did not have a choice, Brandon. We all do — just like how you became angry at someone whom you just realized you should never offend. But don’t worry, I’m not offended.”
He relaxed his breath again, exhaling through his nostrils with a barely audible puff, sucking in air greedily.
“You are correct that from your point of view, I know what is to be, what has been, and what could have been. Yet, this is Now, among an endless series of Nows you have progressed throughout your life. This defining meeting with me, precisely because you have a choice to make. More important than deciding what sort of cereal you wanted for breakfast. A choice between multiple doors, so to speak, closing all others forever.”
The Time Merchant paused. “Following me so far?”
Brandon attempted to stall the conversation while making sense of what he just heard, “So, my life just boils down to this one decision?”
“No. Your life is a cocktail of circumstance garnished with a series of decisions.”
“Well, if you put it that way, I wish I had been able to choose the ingredients for my cocktail,” Brandon replied sarcastically. “And? You seem to know what I want, Kolo. What is it then? Did you come here to stop time and tell me that what I want is dumb?”
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Brandon shivered despite not feeling cold.
“I came to offer you a deal, Brandon. But also to reassure you that even if you do not go through with it, your life would be happy. Just as happy.”
“And yet, you say the Garden has no means of helping me,” Brandon countered, “You’ve told me that what I want, I should not get. I can get it through you, yet your…” he swallowed, “price, is so high that I wonder why that girl ever agreed to it.”
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Brandon finally understood his sense of unease. Even in the pure silence, he could not hear Kolo’s breathing, or hear any change in the Time Merchant’s shifting. Telltale signs he had learned to contemplate that others did not know they were giving away. And yet…
“Here’s a bargain, then, Brandon.” Kolo offered suddenly, “A cheaper price for what you want; and its effects will last until the end of the day.”
“End of…today?” asked a stunned Brandon. “But I just finished this performance, so it is already nine!”
“What do you want, Brandon? Is it to see Nicole, or to see?”
“I…” Brandon stammered, trying to come to grips with the sudden offer, “I want to see Nicole.”
“Very well. The payment will be scaled accordingly, and I will make it such that you have all the experience necessary to comprehend. Will that suffice?”
“… is there a trick? This is happening so quickly, and almost as though it’s all in my favor.” Brandon observed. “I don’t believe you’re offering such a good deal out of the kindness of your heart.”
“Even if I am, you wouldn’t believe it,” Kolo answered dryly.
“So…how many years now?” Brandon asked hesitantly, yet hopefully.
“Merely five.”
“Five?! For…a few hours?!” Brandon exclaimed.
“Would you rather the original payment in exchange to be able to see for the rest of your life?”
“No! I mean… but…five years, Kolo. I won’t be able to be with Nicole for five years.”
“You’ll be able to see your beloved Nicole in this lifetime, Brandon. A paltry exchange — considering you have no one else to turn to.”
Brandon sighed, his shoulders sagging. “You’re sure the Garden is not the solution?”
“…if you’re holding out in the hopes that the Garden prioritizes your needs, don’t bother, Brandon. They work for Adam now. Do you agree to the price?” Kolo asked. “Five years, in exchange for being able to see until the end of the day.”
Taking a deep breath, Brandon threw his head back and exhaled slowly. “Yes. I agree.”
“Very well. Due to the nature of your needs, I will commence your payment … after midnight.”
Brandon’s brow furrowed as he asked, “It starts immediately after the day ends?”
“I will find you. But for now, you’ll need to go to Nicole.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem. She should be in the VIP section,” Brandon replied.
“She’s leaving the Garden now, actually, Brandon.”
“What?” he answered in disbelief, gripping his cane.
“You know her well, don’t you?”
“She skipped my swan song for work?!” Brandon was incensed.
“No, not work,” Kolo’s voice replied, “I think it’s best I let you hear it from her. You can meet her in front of the Tree of Knowledge.”
“Wait!” Brandon spoke hurriedly, “Wait. Wait. Please. I’m still on my stage. You mean you’re going to leave me right now? I am so far from where the Tree is and I’m blind —”
Snap.
Brandon jumped at the sound of Kolo’s fingers snapping, but even more than that, it was the piercing sensation that invaded his senses, threatening to drown him in information as the Time Merchant made good of his bargain. But he immediately banged his knees on the piano and fell backwards, tripping over the stool and flailing his arms.
An arm caught him from falling fully backwards.
“Easy, Brandon. Easy.”
Struggling to contain his panic, Brandon regained his balance and felt for the piano stool, sitting down.
“What’s happening?” his breath kept being caught in his throat. “Did you already make it happen?”
“Yes.” The arm that caught him shifted, and a firm hand gripped his shoulder. “Don’t panic — what you’re experiencing is normal. There’s going to be a bit of temporal dissonance as you experience the differences between your own timeline’s experience and the timeline where you weren’t born blind.”
Still trying to breathe normally, Brandon kept his eyes tightly shut. “Is it safe to open them?”
“Yes.”
Brandon raised his eyebrows, then scrunched up his eyes again. “It’s….” he sought for the word, “blinding.”
“It’s the first time you’ve seen the glaring lights they use to illuminate yourself on the stage. Let your eyes adjust. Look down.”
Brandon raised his hand covering his eyes. His thoughts were confused. The glow, he thought, feeling his eyeballs roll behind his eyelids. Then he paused, realizing that he understood what was happening.
“This is what … what it’s like to see?”
“Well, yes. It’s not really something that was ever adequately described to you, was it? And your eyes aren’t even fully open yet.”
It still took several long minutes before Brandon’s eyes adjusted. When his eyes finally did, he looked around, trying to match what he was seeing with what he had always known was there.
“It’s…both larger and smaller than I always imagined,” he said lamely, looking around at the stage.
“You probably imagined it to be smaller because of how it’s designed for acoustics, concentrating the sound,” Kolo observed for him.
Brandon frowned, looking up at the man standing in front of him. Gray suit, his false memories reminded him as he looked at the Time Merchant. And at his breast pocket dangled something. A golden chain, Brandon thought. Then he wondered at how he knew what it was simply by sight alone.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Brandon started. It was louder now.
The Time Merchant pulled up on the chain with his free hand, revealing a golden pocket watch, and depressed the crown, looking at the pocket watch while frowning.
“Listen carefully, Brandon, for the following is free information to you. It is currently 9:28. By the time you finish the niceties and rush out of the auditorium, hail the first taxi you see and arrive at the Tree around 11:50. Nicole will still be there, giving you enough time to see her if you so wish. I will find you at midnight.”
Brandon attempted to stand up, but the Kolo’s hand held him down on the stool.
“Stay here. When the time bubble collapses, you’ll still need to look as though you just finished your concert.”
But Brandon shrugged that hand off, glaring at the Time Merchant.
“Ten minutes?! For five years of being gone?”
Click.
Brandon cringed and shied away at the sound of the pocket watch snapping shut.
“You only need to see her, Brandon, and I just gave you the means of achieving that as a free service. Don’t forget what you wanted.”
“Wait!” Brandon attempted to grab at the Time Merchant as he walked away, only to realize he could not move. The Time Merchant gave Brandon one last look of pity, then walked out of Brandon’s line of sight, leaving some parting words.
“Don’t waste the time you’ve bought, Brandon. Oh, and when the time comes, run.”
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
“Jeez, dude, I thought you were blind.”
“I…what?” panted Brandon as he settled himself into the taxi. “I need to go to the Tree of Knowledge, immediately. Now.”
“You got it, boss,” said the driver, who continued from earlier, “And, I meant, I thought you were blind. You were waving a white cane. You know, the ones blind people use.”
Brandon stared down at the cane still held in his hand, still trying to collect his bearings.
“Ah, yes,” he responded distractedly, looking outside the window. “I used to be blind, I suppose. Force of habit.”
He could not recall how exactly he had forced his way out of the auditorium, wincing the entire time as the scenery assaulted his senses. He still felt drunkenly confused at his newfound sense, and wondered if he had offended too many acquaintances that had come forth to congratulate him on his final performance.
Nicole was the only one on his mind.
“Used to be blind, eh?” asked the taxi driver, “You one of them that’s been in the Garden?”
“I’ve been to the Garden, yes,” Brandon answered offhandedly, not wanting to say anything more specific. He had a feeling it would be bad.
“Ah, well, judging by how you are dressed, you definitely can afford the Garden,” the taxi driver continued, “Though I thought rich folk like you have private chauffeurs.”
Brandon guiltily thought about the chauffeur he left behind in his haste to leave. He had not even thought about his private chauffeur in his haste to leave the building. Patting down his pocket, he groaned inwardly. He had also left his private phone in the auditorium.
“Um, what time is it?” Brandon asked the taxi driver. The taxi driver pointed at the middle of the instrument panel, at something that glowed with a green light. Digital, Brandon’s brain thought before he registered what he was looking at.
“It’s 10:14, my friend. But given this traffic, it’ll take a while to get to the Tree. Maybe two hours, by my reckoning?”
Brandon depressed a hidden button in his cane, and pulled out a wad of cash, thrusting it at the driver. “I need to get there as fast as possible. This should cover you for anything. Please?”
The driver looked at the cash and jolted. “Woah man, that’s a ton of money. Are you sure you’re not blind? Holy shit, did you even look at your own money?!”
Brandon shook his head and dropped the cash in the passenger’s seat. “Please. I need to get to the Tree of Knowledge as fast as possible.”
The driver ran his hand through his hair, then nodded. “Wow. Well, you’re definitely as rich as I pegged you, mister. All you rich people repeatedly going to the Garden, guess they really have what you need, huh? Alrighty then, with this amount even a ticket or two won’t matter. Let’s go!”
“That’s the Tree of Knowledge?” Brandon was amazed, awestruck at what he was seeing. A gigantic, golden tree erupted into the sky, covered by a glass dome. From the tree hung various golden glowing orbs that shimmered in the darkness of night.
“I guess you really must have been blind until recently. That’s the Tree of Life. The Tree of Knowledge is a different color,” replied the bemused taxi driver. “Everyone knows that. I thought you’ve been to the Garden, and they fixed your eyes?”
Brandon didn’t respond, choosing instead to squint at the digital green digits that glowed. He decided he really liked green. 11:29. Ahead of schedule?
“Wait, where’s the Tree of Knowledge then?” he asked.
“We’re getting there, mister. Just on the other side of the Garden. You can’t miss it, it’s got silver-ish white lights.”
The other side? But…
“How long will that take?”
The driver shrugged. “The Garden is huge, I’m going to have to loop around, and…hey what are you doing!”
Brandon pulled open the door, stepping out. “Thanks for everything!” he shouted back at the taxi, slamming the door shut, and sprinting towards the Garden.
“Hey, hey, mister! You forgot your cane!” he heard the taxi driver’s voice catch up to him, but Brandon didn’t care. He was running full sprint at the Garden’s doors.
Stopping momentarily at the security doors, he looked absently at the security guard that looked back at him from inside the building. The security guard frowned, then pointed at a panel to the side of the door. A hand print scanner. So that’s what they look like.
Brandon slammed his hand onto it, and the doors opened. He sprinted in, and then skidded to a halt in front of the security guard, catching his breath.
“Tree of Knowledge?” Brandon asked, “How do I get there?”
The security guard looked at him with a blank expression, then recognized him and said, “Hey, you’re that blind pianist, right? Brandon — ”
“The Tree of Knowledge, how do I get there?” Brandon demanded. The security guard recoiled, then pointed down a corridor. Brandon dashed towards it.
Along the way, he began to recognize signs. Tree of Knowledge. And a symbol. Arrow.
Brandon followed the arrows, his heart thudding in his throat, his ears burning, and his legs feeling the painful sensation of strenuous exercise. He had not run in his life ever. But he was running now. The sound of his shoes smacking into the tiled floors echoed repeatedly down the empty hallways as he followed the arrows desperately looking for each sign that pointed him towards his destination.
The Tree of Knowledge.
It was as the taxi driver had described it. It looked just like the Tree of Life, but was silver instead of gold. The orbs that draped like fruit from its boughs were silver and white, and it was a sight to behold.
And underneath it, a woman sat at a bench, crying.
Brandon walked up to her.
“Nicole?”
The woman looked up, but he closed his eyes. He wasn’t ready. Not yet.
“Brandon?”
Her voice was the same. A beautiful lilt that gently caressed his ears and tickled his mind. A voice that he wanted to play the accompanying tune to.
“Brandon, I’m so sorry,” he heard her sniffle, “I couldn’t attend your performance.”
“I am sure you have your reasons,” he replied, “was it your mother?”
He kept his eyes closed still. He wondered why. He wanted to know why. But he could not face her yet. He did not want to.
“The Garden called me, and I arrived as quickly as I can, but…” She sniffed again, “She’s gone, Brandon. Gone. And Daniel was too busy as usual, to be here. For mom’s last breath.”
Brandon didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say. All of his thoughts were in a turmoil.
“Where’s your cane, Brandon?”
He ignored her question as his impending payment weighed on his mind. “I came to tell you that…. I will be gone for a few years, Nicole.”
“What?”
Brandon sought to explain. He didn’t know why, but he already knew that it was wrong to lay this on her at this time, yet time was running out.
“Something happened, and I agreed. It will mean I will be gone, but I’ll come back. Okay?”
A shuffling, and he felt her approach.
“You must be joking. Now, of all times? Are you out of your mind, Brandon? Just because I didn’t attend your final performance?”
He swallowed his guilt, still wrestling with himself. He wanted to open his eyes and look at her.
“I didn’t plan for it to happen like this, Nicole.”
A thudding. It sounded like she had fallen to her knees. Then he confirmed it when her fist pounded against his thigh. His eyes opened briefly, and he looked down. Red hair. But he closed his eyes again. So that’s what red looks like.
“I’m sorry, Nicole,” he knelt down, reaching for her in the darkness. The darkness. Not the nothingness. Darkness. His arms wrapped around her sobbing frame. “I understand you’re grieving right now. She was an important part of your life, and…”
“And you are too. Leaving me.” she hiccuped. “You, and Daniel, and … and everyone. All caught up in David’s stupid scheme. Is that what you’re leaving me for, so the Garden can finally fix you? Is that all you care about?”
I wanted to see you. But Brandon couldn’t say it, even as he knew her face was buried just beneath his chin.
“Stay with me, Brandon,” he heard her beg through her sobs, “I’m so alone now. I need you. Now, more than ever.”
Brandon didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t know if he even should. But he wanted to.
Opening his eyes, he looked at her red hair that shone, gleaming in the silverish light of the Tree of Knowledge. He opened his mouth, and said, “Look, Nicole, I made a decision. I wanted to see —”
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Brandon flinched immediately, grasping Nicole as though she might disappear as he looked around fearfully. He recognized that sound. Don’t waste your time.
“I know you wanted to see, Brandon. It’s all you’ve ever wanted. But you don’t need to see, Brandon. It doesn’t matter. Look at the amazing life you’ve led. Look at how you’ve —”
Gong.
Gong.
Gong.
The speakers reverberated throughout the dome, echoing loudly and causing Brandon’s sensitive ears to wince and his eyes to tear up. Frantic, knowing his time was up, he opened his eyes and tried to look at his beloved through the blurry vision of his tears, but the loudness of the speakers hammered at his eardrums and he fell to his knees, hands desperately trying to cover his ears. But still, he tried to look at Nicole.
However, she covered him with her jacket, wrapping her thin arms around his head and hugged his head close to her chest, muffling the cacophony of the sound, until finally, the twelfth sound faded away.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Brandon tried to push her away immediately, trying to take a good look at her. Her arms were locked tight against his head, so he ducked under and took a step back, wiped away his tears and opened his eyes.
Nothing.
Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. He blinked his eyelids. Nothing.
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
“I did tell you, yet you wasted your time.”
Brandon spun towards the voice. “Kolo.”
“Time Merchant, at your service. I am here to commence your payment.”
“But I didn’t even get to see her!”
“No, but you did get to experience sight for the agreed upon time limit.”
“That wasn’t what I bargained for, at all.” Brandon was angry. Frustrated with himself. Disappointed in his actions.
A low sigh. “But it was. You had multiple chances to bargain for the time to see her specifically. Yet the wish you so desired was to restore your sight.”
“Please, Kolo. Just one glimpse,” Brandon pleaded. “Give me just once second more.”
“No. You should have looked at her when you had the chance, Brandon. In this series of Nows, you made your choice, by your will alone.”
Brandon wracked his brain, trying to grasp at straws.
“Another three years,” he declared, “If five years bought me three hours, then three years should at least buy me enough time to take a good look before you —”
But the Time Merchant interrupted him, “I can only make a deal with a person once, Brandon. There are rules I must follow too.”
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
Brandon resigned himself. “Then so be it.”
“You may ask me any question you still have, before you begin payment,” Kolo’s voice was gentle.
“Will it hurt?” Brandon blurted out. “What’s it like?”
“For you? You won’t feel a thing. I suppose from your perspective, you are simply going to sleep and waking up again, though it’ll be a very long Now.”
Click. The sound of a pocket watch opening. “Any other questions?”
“Will she remember?” Brandon paused, then explained. “I… I didn’t want any of this to happen. Not like this. Not in this order. I wish you had told me.”
“Do you want her to?”
“No. I mean, yes. Wait,” he shook his head. “I don’t know. Can I pick and choose?”
“Not really. I wasn’t offering to modify her memories, only asking if you wanted her to or not.”
Brandon’s shoulders slumped.
“Don’t worry too much though, for she will not be blamed for your disappearance. And you did manage to say the important bits.”
Sighing, Brandon licked his dry lips. “It feels like…almost like this payment is a blessing in disguise. I won’t have to be here for the aftermath.”
“Hold out your hand,” the Time Merchant instructed, ignoring Brandon’s self-musing. Brandon did so, and a gentle grip pulled his hand over something warm. “For you, this will be a drawn-out Now, almost like a dream you struggle to wake up from. Keep in mind that you will feel disoriented when you phase back into reality.”
Tick. Tick. Tick.
It was louder now, and Brandon now knew the source of it. The warmth of the pocket watch emanated like a light bulb into his palm.
“Ready?”
“Wait, Kolo. What color are her eyes?”
Tick. Tick. Tick.
“Ah, I thought you’d never ask. Her eyes are green, Brandon. Dream well.”
Tick.
For more Time Merchant stories, please visit the index!
Monadic Storytelling 