Indigo Rock Page #6

Is it possible to grieve someone before they're gone?

• Fiction
• Horror
• Mystery
• Science fiction
• Anthology

								


Unfortunately... 

For a child, the natural order of things could be devastating. 

I woke up, and my tadpoles had disappeared. They weren't really gone. They were hop, hop, hopping on four legs. But for kid Jess, it was a soul-crushing discovery. My babies were dead, replaced by slimy impostors that mocked me with their "ribbit-ribbit." 

Cyrus, on the other hand, was never bothered by the wheel of time. He understood the concept of metamorphosis better than the kiddy trivia on our cereal boxes. Once release day came along, Cyrus held my hand and said, "They'll always be your babies, Jess. Don't cry." 

From then on, I was Tadpole in his eyes. 

I stuck my finger out towards a reservoir in the distance. "That's where we let them go. I hope they lived their best, froggy lives." 

"We're kind of like those tadpoles," Reece added. "Highschool was our metamorphosis. And when we graduate, we turn into bullfrogs and swim in the pond of life." 

"Wow. He's a star athlete and a philosopher," I teased. Reece bumped my side again, but this time he didn't pull back -- our lips within inches. 

Reece cleared his throat, shying back. I'm glad he did. Although I wanted it, it wasn't the time nor place. "How do you feel?" he asked. 

"A lot better." I meant it, even though the IG post lingered in my mind. Like Reece said, none of us understood the mechanics. Maybe we shouldn't understand it. 

"I wish I could know more," Reece said, with the slight twitch of an addict again. "Insta pictures are cool and all. But I wanna ask my future self so many things: 'How's college life? Did we win any national championships? Did we finally get laid?'" 

I whipped my head over to him. "What?" 

A pair of red blots filled his cheeks. "Sorry. That was inappropriate." 

"No..." I waved him off, "before that." 

"I said, I wanted talk to my future self." 

An idea struck me like a meteorite striking a juniper tree. "Reece, that's it!" I pecked him on the cheek and climbed down the boulder. I knew, as I raced back towards Indigo Rock, that Reece was tired of me running off. But I needed to try one final thing. If we could gaze into the future, who's to say we couldn't alter it? 

"Jonesy?" I called out, breaths labored from the sprint back. He sat on a tree stump, busy with his blunt. The bruise I gave him was the same shade of purple as the stone. 

"Back for more?" he said listlessly. "My left side is ripe for punching." 

I kneeled beside him, and although I knew he didn't want it, I followed it up with a hug. "I'm so sorry, Jonesy. I don't know what came over me." 

A frown fell over his mouth. "No, you were right," he said. "I never should've taken you here... any of you. I'm sorry, too." 

I smiled, and his frown curved upwards into an expression closer to mine. He offered me a hit, which I happily said yes to. "Is that..." Notes of what could only be described as gouda swirled on my tongue. "Cheese flavor?" 

"It's called Cheese N' Chong," said Jonesy, and he and I assaulted the forest with our laughter. "I bought it from this Dutch dude in San Fran. Does the tadpole like?" 

I gave Cheese N' Chong another hit. "Oh, Tadpole likes." Now that bygones were bygones, I handed Jonesy his blunt and etched a pressing look. "So, I wanted to ask you something... about that." We 
both looked at the stone. The intense glow from earlier had waned -- the voice subsided. 

"Shoot," Jonesy replied. 

"You said yesterday, you're still figuring out ways to use it." He flashed a quick nod. "Well, have you tried calling anyone?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"So far, it only works with social media. In other words, things connected to the internet, right? Well, apps like Instagram and Facebook have internet-calling." 

"Whoa there, cowgirl." He choked while inhaling. After his coughs subsided, he said, "You're saying
you want to call someone in the future?" I nodded
back. "That sounds bonkers, I'm not gonna lie." 

"Look around you, Jonesy. This whole place is bonkers. So, have you tried it yet or not?" 

"Tried what?" Reece stepped out of the thicket, brushing leaves off his letterman jacket. "What the hell is going on?" 

Jonesy motioned his head at me. "Dr. Who over here wants to test the limits of our other-worldly host. Best not to poke the bear, I say." 

I stepped up to Reece and held my hand out. "Quick, give me your phone." 

"Why?" 

"Trust me. Give me your phone." 

A second of contemplation, and he placed it in my hand and said, "Hope you know what you're doing." 

"Thanks, this won't take long." Dry leaves rasped underneath my feet as I walked towards it -- the stone in the tree. 

Like clockwork, the misty tendrils invaded his phone before dissipating into thin air. Anxiety gripped the nape of my neck like a cold, metal glove. 

After going on to Reece's Instagram, I typed my name in the search bar. Breathe, Jess. I went to my profile, pressed the 'message' button, and hovered my thumb on the phone icon. 

I wanted a breather before pressing it, but my thumb dove down involuntarily. In big, bolded letters, "CONNECTING..." pulsed on the screen. Why was I so nervous? Surely this wasn't going to work. 

Surely. 

"Babe?" A voice trickled from the other side; my voice. "Hello...? Reece?" My hand trembled upon hearing it. This was reminiscent of the first time I heard a playback of my voice. That repulsion I felt, but doubled. 

Gingerly, I managed to squeeze out, "This isn't Reece... it's, um. It's Jess." I looked at the boys, and they had identical expressions---hand over gaped mouth. 

My doppelganger replied with radio silence, as if computing what she---or I---had just heard. Then, she uttered, "This is that day... isn't it?" 

"Alright, give me that." Reece snatched the phone from my hand. 

I leered at him, irked. "What are you doing?" 

"There's only one way to find out if this is real." He switched the call from audio to video. A fuzzy shape came into frame, growing clearer, until we could no longer deny the girl looking at us on the other side. Future-me smiled. 

"Hi, Tadpole," she said. Holy shit... my hair. "Oh -- right. The hair. It's maroon now," Future-me went on, reading the shock plastered on my face. "Do you like it?" 

I pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to stop the world from spinning. "Is this real?" I asked, wishing I could reach through the screen and touch her. "Are you real?" 

"No, I'm just a twin you never knew about," she answered with a chortle. "I'm kidding. You can relax, Jess." 

Jonesy squeezed next to me. "This is so trippy! So, you're future Tadpole, with that future hair, sitting in that future apartment..." 

"June fourth, three years from your time," she interjected matter-of-factly. "We all swore we would remember this date, the date you'd call. But I guess life moved on, and I forgot to keep track." Her voice dipped into a crestfallen tone. "Indigo Rock is a big blur to me, to all of us. It's like a distant dream." 

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