Faith

A story about time, faith, and love

CHAPTER Five

Incorrectly installed RAM, incorrectly installed RAM. I saved the image onto the camera, so I could further examine it at home.

"That's a nice project you've got going there." The same deep voice resonated behind me. "Police boxes, huh? We didn't even use them back in my day! But I like what I see there, Charles."

"Thank you Mr Gordon!" I didn't seem to understand why he was being so nice. He usually wasn't like this. I logged off the computer and picked up my camera and diary, acting like nothing was wrong. The truth was the opposite: everything was wrong.

How could I be in that image?! I walked out the library, flashing a smile to the librarian. I was the one that took the photo, yet I was in that stupid box?! Taking a left turn down the stairs, I walked to the English block. This is impossible! It would have to be some sort of camera glitch.

"Hey Charles." It was Alexis. "Did you do your English homework?" The thoughts almost instantly vanished as I was dragged into the conversation with her.

*****

They had come back at lunch, and also in 6th period. Once it started, it never stopped. The thoughts in my brain, that is. The thoughts in your brain, that is. It's because of how complicated and deep this whole scenario was, y'know? Me, taking an image. Then looking at it over 7 years later, and seeing myself in the background. If that isn't freaky, I don't know what is.

While walking back home, I tried not to think about it. But what could I do? It was only human to think about it, right? But even when I did think about it, nothing made sense. I decided to tune out of the world, and hear and smell the sounds of nature around me.

The robin redbreasts singing their songs, like a natural whistle, blowing to soothe the ears of the bypassers. The trees, slightly swaying side to side, pushing a breeze straight into my nose. The cyclic wheezing, groaning noise of the industry. Thinking about it, I never actually saw where that noise came from. I just inferred it was coming from the industry.

So this is what they call paranoia, huh? The feeling surrounded me like I was standing in the center of a waterfall. I didn't like it. I didn't like it at all.

*****

The loan had taken place, and our first ever shop opened. It was right next to the industrial area, near where the car wash is right now. Twas to be the cafe of the street. Twas to be 'the thing.' In the start, it was working. Working quite well, actually. The workers would stop on their way in the morning to buy a skim cap or a latte and then go on their way to work. The basis of it was: who wasn't a little drowsy in the morning?

But then it all went wrong. We were in the black with our profits. For some reason, it just...didn't work. We had tried to figure out what was wrong - was it the location of the shop, was our menu too little, were our prices too high? We tried thinking like a customer, figuring out what we could change to make our shop better.

In the end, we had to pay the rent for it out of our loan. And that wasn't good. What was meant to become a success became a failure.

*****

I knew Abba was a painstakingly hard-working man, and to help him, one day I wanted to cook a meal for him. I didn't check my diary if I had any homework. This was more important than that. Instead of going straight home, I continued to the commercial area and bought the ingredients I needed.

Pasta...lasagna...yeah, let's stick with pasta. I chuckled at the joke I just made in my head. The walk home was one of anticipation. I was planning everything I was going to, step by step. The pan, boil the water, add the mushrooms to the sauce... When I unlocked the door to the house, I knew everything I needed to do.

Cooking was a very sensual procedure. The smell of it, oh the smell of cooking. Whether it be Thai, Indian, or any cuisine - you couldn't smell it without getting hungry yourself. The crackle of the bacon in the morning, the sizzle of the vegetables, bathing in sauces. The sight of the final product. I almost felt like a chef after seeing the pasta I had just made.

Dad was going to come soon. He had a very regimented procedure to his life. And come to think about it, so do I. No you don't Charles. Sometimes I just felt like punching my thoughts in the face. Do thoughts have a face?

I can barely put into words how happy I saw Abba that evening. Like...like someone stole all the stars from the night sky and plopped them into our house. Conversation was great that night. We endlessly talked about endless topics.

"Hey, Abba," I started.

"Yeah?" His smile was so wide, I could see his back teeth!

"The day you came home early with news of Grandpa..." I hoped I wouldn't ruin the mood.

"Yeah..." Things were starting to get awkward. I could feel it.

"Where did our car go?" It has been bugging me for the past few days: where is our car? It wasn't there on the day I quit my job, and it still isn't here.

"Ah, that's a story I forgot to tell you." He slurped up his remaining pasta and paused before continuing. "When I got news of Grandpa from the hospital, I decided to take the day off work. I...couldn't really concentrate after that anyways, so what was the point, right?"

I nodded. "And when I was coming back, my driving wasn't that great either." I could see where this was going. "I was coming out of the industry area when I saw a couple walking across the street. And I didn't want to hit them, so what did I do?"

"You veered off to the left?"

"Yeah, I did. Maybe a little too far though...I crashed the car."

I laughed along with him.

"He called himself The Doctor. He liked my bowtie, and his last words are still stuck in my ears."

I waited. 

"Bowties are cool."