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8. Reunion

April 14th, 2007 | Posted by pftq in Possibility | #
   Slap! It came so hard across my cheek.  I glanced wildly for a moment, bewildered and confused.
   “Mom!” I cried out.  “What was that for?”
   A second, nearly identical woman walked into view behind who I called Mom.  Both looked alike and had on the same clothes.  The second only had slightly longer hair and was smaller in stature.  She stared at me in what appeared to be ghastly shock and disbelief.
   I glanced back at the first woman, who suddenly roared out in an astonishingly deep voice, “I’M YOUR FATHER!”
   Time seemed to stand still just then.  I blinked a few times.  Well, I blinked only once, but that one blink seemed to last forever.  It took me a moment to realize that it was only I who moved slowly, as my supposed father scratched his head and tapped his finger impatiently.
   It all became clear to me just then.  How could I have been so stupid? First not recognizing my own father was bad enough; mistaking him for Mom is just shame.  Then again, I did always confuse the two.  How one confuses his own parents I do not know myself.
   “Tom quit beating our son,” my mother sighed.  “It’s no wonder he can’t remember us.”
   Dad stepped back and sat himself onto a stool, slightly embarrassed but stubborn nonetheless.  “He was the one screaming!” he argued.  “And he called me Mom!”
   “It’s not my fault you both look so alike,” I grumbled.  “Where am I anyways? I can’t remember a thing.”
   Something was itching the back of my mind though; something wasn’t quite right.  What was wrong? Well I couldn’t figure out where I was, but there was something more to it.  Something about my parents…
   Suddenly my dad stood up proudly.  “Son! Have you wondered just where we have been all these years?”
   That one statement was all I needed.  Dad’s lone suggestion set off an avalanche within my head.  Once again, thoughts and memory, I never knew I had, poured into my skull.  It all came back to me in a flash.  Literally.
   “Tom! I told you that was a bad idea!” Mom suddenly cried out.  “You overloaded his poor little head.”
   Machines nearby that I failed to notice before were suddenly flaring red.  An alarm sounded somewhere in the room, and a green tinge lit the walls.  I wasn’t sure where I was, but I knew this wasn’t home.
   “Wendy, you said that over a decade ago!” Dad shouted, straining his voice against the alarm.  “I would think his head has grown at least by now!”
   “Well you were wrong!”
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