✦—✦—✦•
April 14th, Woodfield Primary, Chester, UK
Clouds hung over Cheshire, gale wind joined in to make the cool weather almost unbearable. Sitting inside my warm classroom, I considered it lovely weather. The way the wind howled, or the way the rickety window bumped against its frame to make that harsh staccato rhythm. Artificial and natural made that sound together, a smile blossomed on my face. I could hear the neglect of our school building in the way the wood groaned—or maybe that was just the Year 5s who had to endure it. Music to my ears. A sigh escaped me; I was just being too dramatic.
Yesterday I spent time getting used to the new knowledge, and today I was planning my life. I had a head start that no one else had; learning new things would be easier for me. The possibilities of becoming a researcher and inventor, with a knowledge base that extended until 2030. The potential I had was enormous, and the profits would be immense.
Mrs. Ramsdale wore a pearl necklace that mismatched her dress. Denim dress was in a style more suited to a cottage than the ballroom. If not for the bright embroidered plaid of various shades, it would look like an overall. Her thin hair made her widow's peak more pronounced. I couldn't help but imagine how my life would be twenty years from now if I pursued education. Rich, respected, and resourceful—it sounded eerily like the three Rs of waste management. "Reduce, Reuse, and Recycle," like those posters I'd see at Kwik Save when Mum took me shopping. I should call it Somerfield, since they had changed owners.
Things were changing in front of my eyes. It was plain to see even in Chester, a city renowned for some of the oldest buildings in England. Stores on the Rows were bought and sold monthly. Chester received more foot traffic each year than the last. Hell, the Roman walls were used more by the tourists than us locals now. The phrase still lingered in my mind.
Reduce. That was eerily like my condition—memories with all the fat cut off, no personal memories remained. Only cold hard facts.
Reuse. I had used it to get a silver medal in an Olympiad. Knowledge was powerful and reusable.
Recycle. That one made me feel sad. I wasn't sure if I was recycled. At least not in body—I couldn't see a Wilfred Price without revelation ability to learn Spanish to such fluency. Though in other ways it was appropriate. Soul or memories, whichever it was, they were wholly recycled so that I would exist.
Of course, in the real world, recycled things are given a new shape, form, and use. So I, Wilfred Price, needed to be reinvented. Education and scientific fields were not as interesting to me because it wasn't selfish enough. I could help push technology to advance thirty years, but that would happen whether or not I inserted myself into the chain. No, a more self-serving idea had me excited.
A concept of a Renaissance man, popularised by those who found Leonardo da Vinci to be the ideal of a man. A man can do all things if he will. I had never heard a phrase so true—all the evil and all the good. Endless means to do infinite things, those were all in the grasp of any person willing to do the hard work. Idea was infectious and the Italian Renaissance pushed Europe so far ahead of the rest of the world. Giving them a head start, much like I had.
Well, I was intrigued by it—to play music, to sing, and act. Triple Threats, as they were known in the entertainment industry, were people in the same mold as the Renaissance man/woman. But that was only one face. I wanted to add more and more until I had mastered as many fields as one possibly could.
Sports—I wanted to succeed in one, but I had no idea if I had any talent for it or the genetics required to succeed. Chess perhaps? It was a strategy game that you actually didn't need to be a genius to be the best in the world at; pattern recognition and learning was more effective. Revelations helped point out that computers would become so powerful that chess would become almost solved in the near future. No, time commitment was too much.
I needed a sport that required the least time commitment possible. Did any sport qualify or did you need to dedicate a life in order to climb to the summit? Charm and physicals—sorted once I made a decision on my sport. Financials would be next; I was bound to have ideas about making money. Siphon that into becoming a mogul who owned the most influential companies. It almost seemed too easy for someone with foreknowledge. Still, it completed one more side to the shape of the complete man.
Finally, there was the creative section, an inspiration to provide to those who came after me. Write scripts, books, direct movies, and advance humanity in some ways. Smidgen off the top of what I know will come, nothing too heavy-handed. Could I make something original of my own? Would it stand toe to toe with real art? That thought seemed too hasty, I'd try weaving in my work with the rest, intersperse it carefully and see how the world reacts.
I started to giggle. Kids around me looked at me oddly; I paid it no mind. The day after finding out the limits of my power, I was making plans to take over the world. How arrogant was I going to be if this continued? That was a reminder to remember, wasn't it?
The social side of that intangible shape—I had to focus on that. I knew that even if I couldn't become a famous singer or an actor, I would still be rich by one mean or another. You needed a friend to keep you grounded, to criticise you and call you out when needed. Those were impossible to find if you were already rich.
Counting out a beat in my head, I waited for the bells to ring.
[BRRRT] [BRRRT]
I hopped off my chair, swept my belongings into my open backpack smoothly. Before Mrs. Ramsdale could say a thing to me, I was trotting out of the classroom.
The classroom for Year 6 was as far from the school entrance as you could get. Linoleum floors, walls with dozen coats of paint, a hall of chaos that was the children pouring out of classrooms. None of it barred my way as I made for my quarry. Children of the New Forest had really rubbed off on my vocabulary; I briefly panicked about accidentally catching the posh accent disease that the rest of the cast had.
A blonde girl with hair in a pineapple do left the classroom, a boy with a snot nose was next, a ginger menace Robbo hit my legs with his rucksack as he passed by. Then it was the turn of Henry Harrison, who could pass for my brother if not for the light brown hair with a lazy curl.
"Hey Henry," I greeted him.
"Oh, it's you," Henry said in way of greeting.
"Want to go grab lunch?"
Henry looked around. "I'm having lunch with my friends."
I didn't let that bother me. "Oh? Can I join?"
Henry seemed to consider it before nodding.
"Great! What's your favourite meal?" I asked as nonchalantly as I could,
"Uhh, sausage and mash. I like the gravy."
"Great choice," I complimented. "I could kill for one right now."
Conversation seemed to flow smoothly from there. We had lunch with his friends while we talked about nothing important—what was on TV, or who was the best footballer, meaningless things that kids say. Once we finished our Twizzlers and puddings, I looked up at Henry.
"Do you want to hang out before class?" I asked, hopeful.
"Sure," Henry said casually, leaving his friends to hang out with me.
We headed for the stairwell leading up to the teachers' offices; no kid ever went up there by choice.
"You play tazos right?" Henry asked me.
"Yeah," I said, dropping my backpack and pulling out the plastic container.
"What you want to play for?" Henry pressed.
"Hmm." I went through his 'collection' while he went through mine. "I want the Looney Tunes set you got."
"Only this one." Henry pointed to another Looney Tunes stack. I could see it had duplicates, but I nodded. "What about you?"
"Hmm." Henry seemed to think it over as he browsed. Looking down at me, he grinned. "How about your yo-yo? I saw it in your bag just now."
I opened my rucksack and found it in the inner zipper compartment.
"Alright."
"Good."
We set up the board—or in this place, the stairs—by donating our playing set to the 'community' stack. Goal was to flip over the tazo disks by slamming your disk on it. You collected the tazo you flipped over and compared the pile afterwards with your opponent's. Winner was whoever collected the most of tazos.
With my first slam I flipped over five, an amazing start if there ever was one.
"This is boring," Henry said with a yawn. "I've worked out a new way to play tazos. Fancy a go?"
"Yeah? What's that then?"
"It's called shoot the tower," Henry said proudly. "You see those holes? Connect it and we'll build a tower or a roller coaster…"
Henry went on to explain it. The tazos had those eight incisions around the edges of each disk. Everyone used it to orient the disks correctly, but Henry's method allowed us to chain them together. So we used many disks to build something that resembled the London Eye. Once we finished it, Henry instructed me to select two tazos as my shooting stars.
I really started to enjoy myself because now we were playing a shooting game. By bringing two disks by the edges and holding one between your thumbs, you could use one disk as a slingshot and the other as the projectile.
"Only five more up for keeps," Henry said.
"We're doing keeps?" I asked, unclear on our original deal.
"Yeah, obviously." Henry said,
I shot my tazo, "Did you see that? Wow." I chuckled as it went flying into the wall.
"Watch this." Smiling, Henry stilled and shot his disk.
He caught the bottom stem of a structure, which made the entire thing fall over.
I only had one point left on the board. Henry shouted and cheered while doing a small victory dance, hands up in the sky.
"That was brilliant," I complimented, "Great shot."
"Thanks." Henry shrugged, then he saw the last piece of the tower on another stem. Last point for me if I could make the shot.
His shoulders touched mine, hands sliding over me. "You can keep that. No need to shoot."
"Thanks, but I'd rather give it a shot." I said, aiming a disk and wedging it in a way I felt was just right.
Off my shot went, hitting the stem cleanly, knocking it off the the base we built. My projectile landed near Henry and he accidentally moved his legs so it went down the staircase.
"Oops," Henry said.
I got up to collect my well earned point.
"Tally time," I announced confidently.
We brought out both of our keeps so far. I counted thirteen while Henry had eighteen.
"I win," Henry chuckled. "You were great though; I'll be mindful of ya next time."
I couldn't even feel that bad. The yo-yo was nice but way less entertaining than learning a new way I could use my tazos or making a friend for life.
"Here." I handed him the yo-yo.
"Cheers." Henry grabbed it, grinning. "Hang on… how do you yo-yo this then?"
"Like this." I taught him to get the slipknot through his middle finger and let loose.
Henry was a natural, and the yo-yo spun mid-air and came back to his waiting palms.
"Whoa, sick!" Henry laughed.
I kept the stack that I won, sad to see that my hologram Yoda was gone, but that's a lesson against gambling. You lost more often than you won. The bells rang, signalling the end of our time.
"Do you wanna come to my place?" I asked. "We can play tazos or do something fun. I got this pet game. Oh, or we can watch TV. Zap is on." I smoothly invited Henry over, not awkward at all.
Henry looked at me then at his new yo-yo, then smiling said, "Yeah, where's your place?"
"Brook Lane, about five minutes' away."
"See me at the coops after class," Henry told me, walking off while playing with his yo-yo.
Having made a plan with a friend, I patted myself on the back. For some reason I thought Henry was having a problem back at home, but today he seemed the same as the time I knew him from the rehearsals.
—✦—
"What's that?" Henry asked, pointing at the press.
"French press," I said simply.
"Yeah, but what is it?" Henry pressed.
"Oh, Dad makes coffee with it."
"Eww," Henry said, chuckling. I agreed with his sentiment.
I gave him the small tour of my home; he didn't seem too impressed with my house.
"What's your dad do?"
"He's a foreman for a construction crew," I answered. He was a fuzzy bear of a man, and gentle too. "Yours?"
"—He does business," Henry told me. "What about your mum?"
"She works in the library at the city centre. Yours?"
Henry looked away, his attention taken by the Tamagotchi egg on my bed.
"What's that?" he asked much the same as he had with a few things.
I showed him everything about my current pet, a snake I called Kaa after The Jungle Book. Not much originality in me with pet names, but the game was pretty new to me. Henry got bored of it quickly, and I understood it. Number game was pretty boring, waiting game was almost torture. I wasn't even allowed to bring it to school because the school had banned it. Something about kids having to check it every now and then.
Once I showed Henry most of my things, we went down to my living room to watch some TV.
"Zap or Queen's Nose?" I asked.
"What? No, those are boring. Bernard's Watch is more fun."
I hadn't seen that one before, but I learned it was about a boy with a watch that could stop time. I received a revelation for a movie called Click. I liked that one more than this ITV series.
"It's wicked, that," Henry said, a wondrous smile on his face.
Bernard had stopped time with a simple gesture.
"What would you do if you had that watch?" I asked.
"Rob a bank—I'd be sorted in days." Henry laughed. "You?"
"I'd like it more if it was like Groundhog Day. Have you seen it?"
Henry shook his head, so I explained. "It's like each day you wake up, everything resets, you sleep tonight, you wake up this morning. It's a time loop. It'd be really lonely if everything stops, but if each day repeats I can do fun things like go see the Queen or learn new things." I said dreamily.
"Be more fun to find out secrets. You know Mr. Ross from the play?" Henry whispered conspiratorially. I nodded.
"His name is Martin Moss. I found him snogging Elwyn." Henry laughed. He looked at me then with a glint in his eyes. "Have you got any secrets?"
I shook my head, but Henry looked at me in a way that made me want to say it.
"Well, I got one or two I guess," I said sheepishly.
"Come on, out with it, you." Henry shoved me gently.
"Erm—I'm on TV," I blurted out. "Well, more like I'll be on TV soon. I'm playing this boy in a TV show called Children of the New Forest."
"On TV, like that?" Henry asked, dumbfounded, pointing at the screen where a boy just resumed the flow of time with his watch.
"Yeah, but I'm a side character. Hardly any lines," I said, blushing a little.
"When did you do that?" He said looking annoyed,
"Last week. I was gone from school and only came back on Monday. I'm going back soon though." I sighed.
"More filming?" Henry seemed perplexed.
"No, I'll be on West End in Doctor Dolittle. It's about a doctor who…" I explained the premise to my mate.
"So you'll be dancing and singing," Henry repeated for what seemed to be the fifth time.
"Yeah, no solo song like Oliver! I'm basically an ensemble, joining in with the group on the songs," I replied, rubbing the back of my head for what felt like the fiftieth time. For some reason, I felt embarrassed to reveal it to someone my age.
The front door opened suddenly. Henry stood bolt upright and at attention, even I suddenly felt squeamish, as if I had done something wrong. Calming myself, I stood up to greet Mum as she walked into the living room.
"Hey, bach." Mum stepped forward to hug me before coming to halt.
"Oh, who's this?" Mum put on her friendliest voice.
"This is my friend, Henry Harrison. He played Dodger in the play."
"Hi, Mrs. Price," Henry greeted politely.
"Good to put a face to the name, Henry." Mum shook herself. "Oh, where are my manners? Have you got your mate some tea? There are biscuits in the cupboard." Mum asked me.
I started to move for the biscuits.
"Don't worry, Mrs. Price. I was leaving anyway, got to run before curfew." Henry said with an embarrassed face.
"Are you certain, love? I can fix us up some dinner—fresh salmon." Mum lifted up the bag, spreading the fishy smell throughout the living room.
Henry seemed to consider it for a moment too long before shaking his head.
"Maybe next time?"
"Oh, sure. Wilf's friends are always welcome here," Mum said after Henry, who was already walking off. She came over to grab me.
"Go walk your friend off," she said, nudging me.
All in all, I was happy with how our first hangout had gone. We had a long life ahead of us, and Henry was the coolest kid in our school. Though we were only primary schoolers, I felt we would get on well.