14 August 2012 fiction, Untitled, unfinished

I was five years old when I met myself for the first time.

I was sitting on the playground, playing in the sandpit. My mom was over talking to some other parents, and I was all alone. I had never really been interested in making tons of new friends; I was simply content in sitting by myself on the playground and playing on my own.

For some reason, I looked up from my work on a sandcastle, and I saw a little girl, about nine walk up to me. She looked a bit like me, the same hair, the same skin color, but she was taller, and her features seemed a little different. Her nose fit her face better, and her teeth were bigger. We were wearing the same shoes, navy blue converse. Mine were clean and shiny and new, but hers were dirty, worn, and there was a small hole forming on the toe of the left one.  They looked like they had gotten some great years out of them. I couldn’t help but wonder if my shoes would ever look like that.

She came right up to where I was sitting, and she put her hands on her hips and smiled. “Hi Cassie.” She said quietly. “Can I play too?”

I nodded slowly. The girl sat down next to me, and smiled at the castle I was building. “I used to love building sand castles.” She said. “I used to like to pretend that after I left, as long as I didn’t destroy them, that little animals would live in my sandcastles. And I would always build new ones each day. I never really understood why they were gone each morning, but now I know why. Big mean kids knock them over. I saw them one time when I was seven. They knocked over my sandcastles, and I cried, and it was a terrible night.”

My heart dropped. Did that mean that mean kids would knock over my sandcastles? I didn’t want to admit it to this girl who seemed so wise about these kinds of things, but I had actually thought that animals had lived in my castles. As I kept thinking about it, my eyes filled up and I started to cry.

The girl frowned. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “Did I say something bad?”

I shook my head and wiped tears off my face. I turned towards my castle, and wondered if I should knock it down to save those mean kids some time. I lifted my hand to knock over the castle I had just built, but I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t knock over the pretty little castle I had just spent so long building. I slowly put my hand down, and instead of punching the sandcastle, I lightly patted it.

The girl frowned. “Oh no, I just messed up this whole thing didn’t I?”

I was really confused, and it suddenly struck me that she knew my name but I didn’t remember telling her. And I didn’t know her name either. Who was this girl?

“Let me start over, I promise I’ll do better.” She said. “I’m going to get up and go over there, and then I’ll come back. And then I’ll ask to play, sit down, and then tell you who I am. Okay, sounds good.”

She stood up, walked over behind a tree that was about twenty-five yards away, and then walked back over. She asked me to play, then sat down.

“Okay.” She said. “Hi Cassie. You’re probably wondering who I am, and why I know your name and you don’t know mine, right?”

I nodded.

“Well, this is kind of hard to explain, especially since I barely understand it and I’m almost two times as old as you. But, I’m you. Well, you when you’re older. When you’re nine years old actually, going on ten. I have all your memories, all the same thoughts you had, and I’ve lived exactly the same life as you have. I’m sure this doesn’t make sense to you, right?”

I just stared at her. How could she be me? I was sitting right here, wasn’t I? I patted my tummy to make sure I hadn’t gone anywhere. Yes, I was still here. I was still me, but she was me too. I really didn’t understand what she was saying, but she was looking at me, waiting for me to say something, so I opened my mouth to speak.

“So, you’re Cassie?”

“Yep. Cassandra Delaney Wilson, born on November 23^rd. And since I’m you, I know everything about who you are now. You are also Cassandra Delaney Wilson, born on November 23^rd. You are five years of age, getting ready to celebrate a birthday in about three months. You love building sandcastles, you hate caterpillars, and your favorite food is strawberry yogurt. Your mommy is Sally Meghan Wilson, and your daddy is Jeremy Charles Wilson. The thing you like best about your mommy is that she will take you to the playground any time you like. The thing you like best about your daddy is that he will swing you up into the sky like an airplane whenever you ask him to and he isn’t too tired. You don’t like it when your mommy makes you eat all the vegetables on your plate, and you don’t like how sometimes your daddy gets upset with you if you bug him too much and he is too tired. You wish you had a sister or brother, just like all the kids in your kindergarten class did. You don’t really like school, but you’re willing to try out first grade in the fall because your mommy said you will probably like it. I know everything about you Cassie, because I am you. I’ve lived through everything you have, and I’ve felt all the feelings you’re feeling right now. I can’t really tell you what’s going to happen in the future, but I can tell you how to deal with it all. Growing up is a long process, and you have quite a bit of time ahead of you. So for now, let’s play with the sandcastles. I know it’s what you like best right now, and I promise you that no big kids will knock over this one we make today.”

“Okay.” I said. I still didn’t really understand what Cassie was talking about, all I knew was she said no big kids would knock over my sandcastles today. That made me happy, and also gave me a motivation to make the best sandcastle I had ever made before. Cassie helped a little, but mostly she let me do the work. She said she was the “supervisor” and that she would watch to make sure I was doing everything right.

When it was time for me to go home, Cassie said she would stay and watch my castle for a little while. I don’t know what happened to her, even though I watched her retreating figure as the car pulled away from the playground as long as I could. When I went back the next day, my castle was gone, and so was Cassie. I started to cry a little, because I didn’t know what happened. Then my mom asked me what was wrong, and I said I didn’t know, because I really didn’t. She took me out to go get an ice cream and I spilled a little on my shirt, but it was okay, because mommy said she could wash it out. Then we went home, and I played with my cars and wondered some more about Cassie. I didn’t know when I was going to see her again, but I soon forgot about the entire thing because my mom was making spaghetti for dinner, and spaghetti was my favorite.

~~~~~

The next time I saw her was a little more than two years later. I was seven years old, and she looked like she was about twelve. I had just gotten home from school, and I was walking from the bus stop to get to my house. She seemed to appear out of nowhere, just suddenly being there, right next to me.

“Hi Cassie.” She said. “Do you remember me?”

I gave her the once over. She wasn’t wearing the navy blue converse anymore, but I knew exactly who she was. I had completely forgotten about our encounter that seemed so long ago, but now, here was Cassie. Here was me.

I blinked a few times, and Cassie’s face fell. “Oh no, you don’t remember me, do you?”

I shook my head. “Cassie.” I said quietly.

Cassie smiled widely. “Oh thank goodness! You remember me. Well, how about we walk home together? But let’s take the long way.”

I nodded. It was a nice day, cool enough to wear long sleeves, but the sun was out, which made things comfortably warm.

I lived just outside the small town where my school was located, on a twenty acre property that used to be a farm. Nothing interesting had been raised there, like horses, or sheep, or pigs. Wheat and sod were the only things to touch the soil.

My family had moved in from the suburbs, and had no interest in upkeep of the farm, so things had fallen into a kind of disarray. There was grass and wildflowers, and the occasional small area of sod or patch of wheat. I didn’t mind though. I knew the wheat fields would have been beautiful in a kind of uniform way, but I liked the way things were unorganized. It was really a beautiful sight, if one knew how to look at it.

The location of my house made me the last stop on the bus route. There was nothing around my house really, besides the main road, and a small gas station/convenience store about a mile up. My bus stopped at a small bus stop that had been placed up a long path and a little to the right of my house.

My house was set back about a quarter mile up the road, which resulted in a very long driveway. Usually I would take the short route, which was simple and straightforward. I turned to the right, walked about two hundred yards, and then turned left to follow the long path of my driveway.

However, it was a fairly longer walk if I decided to take the long way, which I liked to call the “scenic route”. The scenic route involved turning left and following a small dirt path around my property that eventually led its followers to the side door of my house. However, though more time-consuming, the long way gave one an opportunity to see the former wheat and sod fields in their full beauty. The dirt path led along the fields, twisting and turning this way and that, but never straying from the edge of the fields.

It had been a while since the last time I’d taken the long way. But when Cassie suggested we take it this time, I realized that I had wanted to take it again, I just hadn’t had an opportunity to. I had always been rushing to get home, do homework, get a snack, etc.

We turned left, and started to follow the dirt path that was right between the fields and the line of trees that protected the farm from the main road.

We walked in silence for a little while, until finally Cassie spoke up.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it Cass?”

I nodded.

“Well, you were about to start school the last time I saw you, and now you’re in the very beginning of second grade, am I right?”

I nodded again.

“Well, how are you liking it?”

I shrugged.

Cassie laughed. “I forgot how antisocial I was when I was in elementary school. Well, Cassie, if you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. We can just walk together, okay?”

“Okay.” I said quietly. Antisocial, what did she mean by that? Annnn-tye-soooo-shull. I didn’t know what social meant, but I knew that anti had something to do with against, or no. so I was not social. Whatever that meant.

We walked quietly for a while until finally Cassie spoke up again. “I can’t stand this. I only get so much time with you, and I don’t want to waste it. You have to have some questions, right? Ask me anything, and I can tell you the answer.”

“How old are you?” I asked.

“I’m twelve. And in a little while I’m going to be thirteen, on exactly the same day and at exactly the same time that you are going to be eight.” Cassie answered matter-of-factly.

“So you are in middle school.” I said.

“Yes.”

“Do you like it?”

Cassie laughed. “I have mixed feeling about it. Sometimes I can’t wait to go in the morning, and some days all I want is to go home. Sometimes I’m really open, and I talk to a bunch of people. Sometimes I want to hide inside the little shell I created for myself when I was about five, and I started kindergarten and was too afraid to talk to anyone. I have friends, and everyone likes me, but sometimes I just feel like I don’t belong. A lot of the time I just feel invisible.”

Cassie’s voice got quiet at the last sentence. She looked down at her feet, and quietly mumbled, “So that’s how I feel about middle school.”

I just stared at her.

Finally I spoke, very quietly. “You felt scared when you first started kindergarten?”

Cassie looked up, right into my eyes. “Yes. I was scared to talk to anyone, afraid that they would laugh at me.”

I just stared into her eyes. “That’s…just like…..”

“Just like what?”

“Me.” I breathed.

Cassie smiled. “I know Cass. Just like you, because I am you.”

I stopped abruptly, the realization hitting me square in the face. “You are me. You really, really are.”

Cassie nodded.

“How?”

Cassie smiled. “If I knew that, don’t you think I would have told you by now?”

“I don’t know.”

“All I do know is that I’m you, from the future. I can’t explain it, but for some reason I skip through time, back to a time when I was younger. And for some reason, I can see you, and talk to you, and you can do the same to me. And it’s so weird, but I don’t think I would trade it for anything in the world. It’s incredible to be able to see myself, talk to myself, get advice from myself. Give advice to myself.” She looked down at her hands.