Chapter Text
The steam from his cup of coffee and his mother’s cigarette smoke moved as if alive. Both danced and swirled around the air; all Heath could do was watch intently. This was their routine.
His mother would sit at the backyard table, read paperwork, the newspaper, or a critically acclaimed novel while smoking a couple of cigarettes in the meantime as she waited for it to be 8 AM.
He started sitting next to her in his freshman year, drinking his coffee as he sat there, thinking about irrelevant matters, and contemplating life. It was his attempt to be close to his mother. It was the best he could find to do.
Even though she was a good mother, always there for him, always caring, he could feel a distance. So he tried to be there, close by. The silences between them felt as though a comforting yet cold blanket on a winter night.
He wondered if it was because of his appearance. Although many would tell him he looked like his mother, she would differ, saying that he took after his father, someone whom he had never met.
“ It’s 8 o'clock, dear, we'd better get going,” His mother, Veronica, said as she looked down at her beeping watch. “ I don’t want you to be late for class.” She added, with a small smile.
Stunned from his thoughts, he simply nodded and picked up his brown backpack, as she did the same with her brown suitcase. While fixing his dark purple jacket as his mother did the same to her blue blazer, they both got up and walked to the front of the house, where a car was parked in the driveway: A reliable 1989 Chevy Malibu in dark blue. His mother had bought it when she had moved out of her parents’ house, and quickly learned that having a car was quite an aid in transporting herself and him.
As his mother started the car, he put his seatbelt on. After settling into his passenger seat, he felt tired to the bones as he looked ahead to a full day. The car started, and the rumbling of the motor served as ambience, along with his and his mother’s breathing. He stared out of the window as he appreciated the silence before the noisy and overwhelming school environment he’d be in a couple of minutes. He just had to endure this year, and off to college he’d be. That was the only reason he kept going, for the chance of there being greener pastures after the hellhole known as high school. But, for now, he’d persevere.
At the sight of a very red stoplight, his mother slowed down and came to a halt at a busy crossroad, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a vehicle rush dangerously close to his side of the car, and with it, the sound of sirens, which came from behind him.
And then, just as he was about to comment it aloud to his mother, out of nowhere and without time to react, the Chevy was struck by what looked like a van. This sent him and his mother forward, only being held in place thanks to their seatbelts.
“ Dear God, Heath! Are you alright?” His mother asked erratically as adrenaline made its way into her system. “ Yeah, ye-yeah, you?” He replied as he looked around, taking note of how far they had been pushed from their original spot, which was to the middle of the crossroad in a diagonal placement.
Just as he turned his head to look at his mother, he saw the headlights and the silhouette of a semi truck behind her.
“ Heath?” His mother asked with worry and confusion at his expression, but before he could say anything, or even move, the truck struck them.
The force of the semi truck sent the Chevy rolling into the sidewalk to his left. At some point, things slowed, and he felt so powerless. That’s all he felt before he was drenched in a warm darkness.
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Heath rose from his state of unconsciousness with a gasp.
Blinking repeatedly, he looked at the sky, and once his vision settled, he started looking around his environment, discovering that he was lying on the asphalt outside of the car, completely unharmed.
In fact, he was in no pain or state of disarray. Once he managed to stand up, he started looking for his mother, and quickly found the car to his left, turned upside down, unmoving, with smoke coming out of it.
At the sight, he rushed to her side of the car and looked in. His mom was there, limp with a gash near her hairline, which was bleeding rapidly. He attempted at the door but found that he could not pry it open, no matter how hard he tried. Which made him realize he couldn’t even move it when he tried to budge it.
Realizing he needed help, he looked around for help as people were surrounding the scene, police officers started blocking the roads, but no one did anything.
“ Help! Please, help me!” He yelled as people got closer, “ My mom- She-She isn’t waking up!” He continued, while attempting to shake his mother’s shoulder, getting no response. No one did anything.
“ Mike, get the coroner’s office here, the kid’s dead as well. Resuscitation is not possible.” Said a man on the other side of the car. At that, Heath became confused. What kid? He was alive, right?
Panic began to settle in his chest, and unwillingly, he started walking to his side of the car. Once he reached it, he paused and stood there. With caution, he lowered himself to a knee to examine what the man, whom he could now see was a paramedic, had seen.
In front of him was himself, bleeding and with a possibly broken neck. He felt himself fall back in surprise and lose it right there and then. He couldn’t be dead? He was walking and breathing for God’s sake! He was here! He was here! Couldn’t anybody see?
He squeezed his eyes shut as he clutched his chest, bundling his shirt into his fists as his heart hammered on. Did he even have a heartbeat? Was this a nightmare? Where was his mother?
“ Son. ” Someone said, pulling him out of his stupor. Heath opened his eyes and looked ahead. Above him stood a man in a white three-piece suit, looking at him with kind eyes filled with worry and a sort of grief. His race, features, and hair changed in a shifting manner, which left Heath stupefied.
Finally, his features settled into those of the face of Mr. Boettjer, also known as Mr. B, his U.S. History and German IV teacher, who had passed last year. It had been right in the middle of the second semester during junior year. The face of his late father figure, one he had known to trust and care for. If Heath had seen the man in a different situation, he would have gotten up and run to him for a hug. But at the moment, with his mother and himself being dead, he couldn’t be more panicked and careless.
“ Heath, calm down, for the sooner you do, the sooner I can be of help to you, and in extent, the purpose for which you have now been chosen along with me. ” Mr. B said as a response to Heath’s even more panicked breathing. At these words, Heath couldn’t help but attempt and succeed in controlling himself. He breathed deeply, as his screaming fear and impending sense of doom slowly reduced itself into a small whisper.
“ What happened? Wh-why? Why am I here? How?!” Heath erratically questioned in a near whisper as he stood up from the rough asphalt.
“ You died, my Tom Sawyer, for here your short life met its tragic end. ” Mr. B answered with glazed, saddened eyes, “ But, for some reason or another, the higher power has decided to right a wrong made in a time long gone. And, Tom, you stood as a wronged soul by it. So, with one stone, two birds will be hit. ” He clarified.
This statement weighed on Heath’s mind with ardor. The words and the possible meanings he could interpret, all running marathons within his brain, completely overwhelmed him. Possibilities, questions, and so much more strained his vocal cords as he attempted to formulate something.
Anything. Anything at all to rid the fog of confusion from his mind, and the frustration it brought upon. Anything.
But, at last, he managed to construct something coherent.
“ What purpose?! What wrong?!” Heath rushedly asked Mr. B, as if he were to take to long, the words would evaporate from his mouth.
As a result, Mr. B smiled, almost amused. “ Worry not for your purpose, for you’ll take hold of it as if it the Excalibur that had stood stuck in the broken stone of a severed past. And, for the wrong, it will find you and show itself bare. For you will be the one to twist its bent timber to point the sky and Sun once again. Righting it and allowing it to bear better fruit for you and those you love and will love. ” He answered the rightfully confused teen.
And with that, Heath felt a clarity he had never consciously known. And with understanding, he replied to the question in the air, “ Okay.”
Suddenly, he found himself not in the crossroad where tragedy had just occurred, but instead, he was in a backyard.
The grass was green as if it were summer, although, just minutes ago, it had been winter. The fence was a lilac purple, there was a red wooden shed with white details, birds chirped as it seemed to be the early hours of the morning, and the air was crisp with the tension of a new start.
Mr. B, now wearing a grey patterned three piece suit with a purple tie and handkerchief, smiled at him and motioned for Heath to follow him along as he headed for the sliding glass doors. Before going inside, Heath noticed the house was purple with white details, the sides of the house all the way to the sliding doors seemed to be surrounded by forget-me-nots and yellow daffodils, and the environment past the fences looked like a forest.
Once inside the house, he closed the sliding door behind him before turning around and looking at the interior of the purple house.
The furniture within reminded him of the one in his own house, if not more vibrant. Colors were expressed around appropriately if he was the one to judge. Not one color overtook everything obnoxiously, other than values. White, grey, and black were predominant.
The structure of the house inside was that of the suburban homes made in the post-war era. The windows were tall, providing light and discretion with thin light blinds. The kitchen was right in front of the sliding back doors he had just entered through, and similarly to his own home, the house lacked an actual dining table and had a kitchen island which worked as both the table, bar, and space for cooking if the tall wooden chairs and bowl of fruits fresh were anything to go by.
The house itself as a whole had a comfortable and warm feeling to it, as if it were a safe space for Heath to be in.
“ It is the best I could do, Tom, after all, I wish not for you to worry here when completing your purpose. I attempted to make it connected to that which makes your soul, and this was the result after a few finishing touches from my part. Do you accept it? Or would you rather I change it? ” Mr. B said after noticing Heath analyzing the home.
“ No, Mister, it's just right. Thank you.” Heath replied. As a result, Mr. B smiled to the point that the edges of his eyes crinkled even more. “ For that, I’m glad." Heath nodded to him appreciatively before turning to look around the house again.
“ For it would be my pleasure to stay here eternally and dialogue about your new residence and its interior design, we must remember our true purpose here, Heath. ” Mr. B said while looking at his watch, one which he always wore, for it had been with him while in service.
“ We are here to right a wrong. This wrong will be done by those who brought you about. We are here before the wrong. You will fix the wrong. ” He continued while looking at him, the seriousness in his features making Heath listen carefully.
“ The higher power said to me,
“For the child of the causants, by our will and power, will uproot the pain caused by the bent tree from before it even became twisted in the first place, from before it even resulted in pain,”.
And with that, it also told me that you will know you have righted the past, because you, the future wronged, will be a memory, a body, and nothing more for those here. At least, until that of your birth, you will no longer be wronged, but rather will enjoy the fruits of your long-gone past with all your soul. ” Mr. B finalized, his gaze turning away from Heath’s.
“ So… I get a chance to fix something my mom and also my dad did before I was even born?” Heath asked after digesting the information relayed to him. Mr. B, in response, nodded and started walking towards the fridge, which had a calendar hanging beside it. After looking at the calendar, Mr. B smiled and said, “ It is, in fact, seven months until your conception, and sixteen until your birth, Heath. It is the year 1989, in Sherwood, Ohio, at the residential street St. Barnabas Drive. ” And at that, Heath was breathless.
He was in a time before he was born. He had died. He and his mother. And now, he had a chance to fix what was wrong and provide relief. For that, he was grateful, yet he still wondered and prayed that fixing whatever happened would take what had bothered his mother since.
He was on the street where his grandparents’ house was, last he knew. His mother’s childhood home. He hadn’t seen it since he was five. He doesn’t remember his time there, but he remembers arriving and leaving at least, seeing its blue color disappear in the distance as he stared at it from the back of the Malibu. He never got to see it again ever since.
Out of the blue, Mr. B’s watch beeped loudly from an alarm. At the noise, Mr. B grabbed a backpack which had been out of Heath’s sight since it was behind the kitchen island. His backpack, as he recognized its washed and sunbleached shade of brown, the bicycle keychain his mother had gifted him dangling from the front. Heath looked at Mr. B and smiled fully, feeling the energy of a thousand Suns within him.
“ Come now, Tom, school awaits. ” Mr. B said while making his way to Heath, “ After all, it is September 1st, 1989. ” He continued while both he and Heath made their way to the front door.