"Why don't you ever fucking remember!?"

  Gary was looking down at the boy.

  He had just walked in the door and said hello. First day. New school. Richmond Middle School, history teacher, fresh start. He had barely finished the words "good morning, everyone" when the shout came from the back of the room.

  The boy was on his feet. Twelve, maybe thirteen. Thin. Messy hair. Eyes that had no business being that tired in a face that young.

  He was staring directly at Gary.

  "Um…." Gary tried his best teacher smile. "I'm sorry, little brother, have we met?"

  "Shut the fuck up!"

  The class went dead silent.

  "I have lived for thousands of lives," the boy said. Not shouting now. Worse, he was calm. "I am not doing another one. Fix this."

  Another teacher appeared at the door. "Hey buddy, you okay?"

  The kid didn't look away from Gary. "Fuck off. There's no point talking to someone as unimportant as you." He took a step forward. "Do you know what it's like to be stuck in a thirteen-year-old body with these raging hormones, but it's too weird to do anything about it because every single one of you is basically an infant to me? I have eons worth of blue balls." He paused. "Kill me. Now."

  More silence.

  "It's you, Gary," the boy said. "It's always you."

  Gary froze. He didn't think he knew this kid. He was still trying to work out how he knew his name when the boy grabbed his collar, yanked him down, and drove his forehead directly into Gary's nose.

  CRACK.

  Gary hit the floor. The kid stood over him, breathing hard, something desperate and exhausted moving behind his eyes.

  "Fix this," he whispered. "You fix this, damn it."

  Another teacher came through the door and pulled the boy away.

  Gary lay on the floor of his new classroom on his first day and stared at the ceiling while blood ran down the back of his throat.

  Great start, he thought.

  Twenty minutes

  Gary was in the teacher's lounge with an ice pack on his nose when the principal walked in.

  "How's he doing?" Gary asked.

  The principal blinked. "I'm sorry?"

  "The kid. Charlie. How's he doing?"

  "He's going to be expelled."

  "Yeah." Gary shifted the ice pack. "That's too bad."

  The principal stared at him. "The police are here. They'd like to know if you want to press charges."

  "No."

  "Mr. Stew"

  "Is he okay? Does he have someone at home?"

  Another long pause. "His parents are on their way."

  "Can I talk to him?"

  They led him to the principal's office.

  Charlie was sitting in the chair across from the desk. The rage was gone. In its place was something much harder to read, a stillness that didn't belong on a twelve-year-old's face. Calm the way deep water is calm. The hairs on the back of Gary's neck stood up.

  "Well, look who it is." Charlie leaned back. "Mister I-Don't-Know-What-The-Fuck-Is-Going-On. How we doing, Gar?"

  He spoke like a regular at a bar. Bitter. A little manic. Completely unbothered.

  Gary sat down across from him. "It's Charlie, right?"

  Charlie smiled. It was a terrifying smile. "You know it is."

  Gary steadied himself. Whatever was going on, this was still a kid, and he was probably scared, and if he wasn't scared that was somehow worse. "You said I should know you. I'm sorry, I genuinely don't. Can you help me out? From where?"

  Charlie sighed the sigh of a man who had explained this particular thing too many times to count. "Why bother? You won't believe me."

  Gary opened his mouth. Charlie raised one finger.

  "I have tried, trust me. You don't remember no matter what I do. Kindness, anger, pain. I've run every play. I've tried running from you, but every time, here you come. I've tried staying glued to your side. Nothing." He picked at a thread on his sleeve. "I'm going to go away for a while. Try to find some answers. But I'll be back in a couple of years or so."

  He said it the way you'd say you were popping out for milk.

  Gary was still working out how to respond to that when the door opened and two police officers walked in, followed by a man and woman who were already apologizing before they were fully through the door. They swept Charlie up and moved him toward the exit in a current of sorry and we don't know what's gotten into him and it won't happen again.

  The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  At the door, Charlie turned and looked back at Gary.

  "See you soon."He mouthed:

  Gary waved.

  He wasn't sure why he waved.

  Ten Years

  For his thirty-second birthday, Gary took Rachel and a handful of friends to Ireland. She'd always wanted to go, and he figured her happiness was the best present he could give himself.

  The rest of the group was still getting ready when Gary headed down to the hotel bar alone and ordered a beer.

  "Well, hello there, lassie," said a voice in a truly awful Irish accent.

  Gary turned.

  He recognized those eyes immediately. Same mix of bitter and dreary. Same unnerving calm. Older in the face now — mid-twenties maybe — but something about him made age feel like a costume.

  "Charlie." Gary stood up and pulled him into a hug before he could think about it. "What are you doing here? I always wondered what happened to you."

  Charlie endured the hug with the patience of a man who had learned to tolerate them. "It's not me, it's you. How did you find me this time? Was it a girl? A man? What dragged you to Ireland?"

  "It's my birthday. My girlfriend and friends are upstairs somewhere."

  "Yeah, I know it's your birthday. February 22nd, 1981."

  Gary paused. "That's... a little unsettling, buddy."

  "You'll survive." Charlie flagged down the bartender and nodded at Gary's glass. "Put it on my tab."

  "So," Gary said. "Did you ever find what you were looking for? Back when you were a kid you said you needed to figure some things out."

  Charlie took a long pull of his dark beer and laughed, the kind of laugh that doesn't have much humor in it. "Absolutely not. Never do." He set the glass down. "I still think it's your fault, by the way. I'm just not sure exactly how yet." He tilted his head. "I'm thinking this time I get real nasty with it. Drag you down into the deep end with me. See if that shakes something loose."

  "What does that mean?"

  "Nothing. We've tried it before. Waste of time." He stood, threw some bills on the bar. "Listen, you be good now, you hear me? And for the love of God, try to stay alive."

  He was gone before Gary could ask what that meant either.

  Gary sat with his beer and watched the door for a moment.

  Strange kid, he thought. Then Rachel appeared at the top of the stairs in a green dress and he forgot all about it.

  Twenty Years

  Gary's daughter was sixteen. She had a boyfriend and a strong opinion about everything and it made him want to cry in the best possible way. The cruise was her birthday present. It was also an excuse to get the whole family in one place, which got harder every year.

  He was stretched out on a deck chair in the sun, eyes half-closed, when a voice said:

  "Hey there baby cakes. So if you had to guess what's causing all this, who's your money on? Mine's personally still a wizard. I don't fully believe it, but I want it to be true."

  Gary opened his eyes.

  Charlie was in the lounger next to him. He looked maybe thirty. He had Gary's drink.

  "Charlie."

  "You seem more like an alien guy to me. Or," he pointed " are you religious this time around?"

  "Why are you on this ship?"

  "That's not important. How's the life treating you? You seemed recover okay after that first meeting? I thought the headbutt might throw you off track but you seemed to land alright."

  He took a long sip of Gary's drink without breaking eye contact.

  "Look," Charlie said, sitting forward, "I need you to stay alive, alright? I'm close to something. I can feel it. But every time I get close, one of us ends up dead, and then," he made a vague, exhausted gesture " back to square one. So unfortunately for both of us, I'm going to need to stick close for a while."

  Gary opened his mouth.

  An alarm started blaring.

  A voice came over the intercom: "Attention passengers. Please return to your cabins immediately. We are being boarded. Please return to your cabins."

  Gary stood up. Charlie pushed him back into his seat.

  Charlie looked at the sky. "Pirates. Really." He rubbed his face. "Fine. Bring it on. I will personally drown every single one of these swashbuckling assholes."

  Then there was a giant “boom!” and the boat rocked.

  The intercom crackled again. "Abandon ship. This is not a drill. Abandon ship. Please make your way to the lifeboats."

  "Okay," Charlie said. "Sinking ship is worse. I gotta say pretty cool. I'll be honest with you, I'm not feeling great about this one."

  "I need to get to my family." Gary was already moving.

  He heard Charlie behind him: "Yeah, yeah. Go get 'em, tiger."

  Fifteen Years

  Gary was dying and he knew it. His wife knew it. His kids still had hope, which he loved them for, but he had made his peace.

  He was sitting on the porch one afternoon, watching the light move through the trees, when a car pulled up. A man got out and walked toward the house. Gary squinted.

  Then he recognized the walk.

  "Your savior is here, honey," Charlie called out.

  Gary laughed and pushed himself up and hugged him before the man was even up the steps. "Charlie. It's been so long."

  "For you, I guess, sure." But he returned the hug this time. Briefly. Like he was trying not to.

  "I haven't seen you since that cruise ship."

  "Yeah, well. Pirates." Charlie looked him over carefully, the way you look at something you're trying to memorize. "I like this one for you. Dying in old age, surrounded by people who love you. Good run."

  "I don't know what that means but thank you."

  "Just…" Charlie paused.

  "What?”

  "Never mind."

  Gary's wife insisted Charlie stay. Charlie protested exactly twice and then didn't bring it up again.

  He stayed for the last few weeks. He was there for all of it. He was there at the end.

  When the line on the machine went flat and the family dissolved into each other, Charlie sat very still.

  "These old bones are about to get young," Charlie said out loud.

  He waited.

  He waited a little longer.

  Nothing happened.

  “What the hell. Am….am i free? What changed?

  Charlie looked up slowly.

  Gary's wife was across the room. She was looking directly at him. Not grieving. Not confused. She was smiling, the slow, knowing smile of someone who has been waiting a very long time for you to finally look up.

  It was full of cocky malice.

  "You" Charlie started.

  She tilted her head.

  "Good morning, everyone."

  Gary was in the doorway.

  New job. New town.

  First day.