Marshmallows and Toilet Paper

The attack was over in seconds.

#

I woke with a snort—confused—and groaned as a sharp, hot sensation lanced through my head. Floating automaton bots displayed flashing screens around me. After a sequence of scans around my body, the virtual messages disappeared, and the machines navigated to the corner of the room.

Dr. Kristina Abbott sat in a stainless steel chair with her legs crossed, scribbling onto a clipboard. The glint of fluorescent lights reflected on her glasses as she pressed her lips together into a thin line.

“What did you see that time, Supreme Magister Jacobus?”

“Please. Just call me Jake.”

Dr. Abbott tilted her head to one side. The silence lingered between us like an invisible tether tugging at my core, pulling me closer and closer to a truth I was not yet ready to know.

I exhaled a cleansing breath. “It wasn’t so much what I saw, but what I felt.”

“Tell me more.”

“I’m getting married next week. To Princess Cli’que Jena.”

“For the intergalactic peace treaty, yes?”

“Right.”

“I see.”

She pressed a sequence of buttons on the console beside her, choreographed from seeing hundreds of patients like me. When the IV pushed a cold fluid into my vein, it shocked my system like jumping into a pool on a hot summer day.

“I’m going to count down from ten,” she said with a click of her pen. “Ten.”

A whine rang through my ears and my stomach tensed.

“Nine.”

Why did that feel so familiar?

“Eight.”

I braced myself for seven, but it never came.

#

Lem walked beside me in complete silence. He clasped his hands behind his back while marble gray eyes stared straight ahead. Normally cheerful, his expression was somber—so somber that, when paired with his maroon sweater vest and sports coat, he might have been mistaken for a young mortician.

I cast him a sidelong glance. “Are you still upset about the photo I cut?”

He shrugged with a scowl on his face, the breeze rustling not only the branches of the surrounding trees, but also his already messy hair—golden brown like leaves in autumn, just as they were turning.

Something clamped down on my stomach when his eyes met mine. I resisted the urge to brush his fringe to one side. “I already told you. Nobody cares about—”

“It’s not about the blasted yearbook, Jack.”

Seeing him now, no one would believe Lem was the strongest member of The Muckers, my faithful disciples and middle finger to the institution, pulling pranks left and right as the headmaster chased us to no avail. And whenever the other kids called me sickly and ‘Rat Face,’ Lem was there—my knight in shining armor slaying pimple-faced demons with his bare hands. A guy couldn’t have asked for a better best friend.

And if I was being honest, he meant more to me than that.

“Alright,” I said. “Out with it already. Your pout face is annoying.”

He smiled as he nudged at me, almost knocking me off balance. He was a handsome man, if one liked tall and dark males of the playful variety. I’d often argued with him about how his ridiculous political positions scared away the ladies. Luckily for me, I’d never had that problem.

Lem reached into his coat pocket, pulling out a piece of toilet paper and handing it to me. “Here.”

I rubbed the back of my neck with pursed lips. “I’ve taken my allergy medicine, but thanks.”

He rolled his eyes, taking my hand in his and shoving the tissue into my palm. “Stop being an idiot, Jack. Just take it.”

The hairs on my arms rose—not just from the way his skin brushed against mine, but also because of the words written on the fragile square of fabric I held. But it wasn’t just any note—

It was a love letter.

I cleared my throat, buying myself some time to sort through the thoughts that raced around my mind like horses on the track. Here we were—two rich kids without a care in the world, aside from school pranks and trust funds that could sustain civilizations. I’d always believed I was destined for something greater than myself.

Was I ready to settle down?

He stopped, his expression unreadable, with a slight hardening along the firm line of his jaw. “Well? Say something.”

“Lem,” I fumbled, “please don’t write to me on toilet paper anymore.”

#

When the fluorescent lights burned into my eyes, this is what I imagined it would be like to crash into a space destroyer. I clutched the arms of my recliner chair as consciousness returned to me in a foggy haze.

“How are you feeling, Jake?” Dr. Abbott asked.

“Like hell.”

She scribbled more notes onto her clipboard while she held a grimace on her face. “Tell me more about Liam.”

A fluttering sensation whizzed around in my stomach. “Liam? He’s my best friend. Why?”

“I see.” She moved to the computer terminal across the room, pressing her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she swiped through several screens in my medical record.

“How did you know about Liam?”

“You said his name a few times during the regression sequence.” She turned, her brows furrowed. “I have an idea, but you have to trust me.”

More IV fluid traveled upwards, charging through my arms like space cadets on a mission to conquer unwanted invading forces. But before I could refuse her, my consciousness spread out like a tapestry of secrets waiting to be weaved.

#

The trail from the small backyard deck led out to the beach. White sand cooled the soles of my feet as I walked. We stopped when we reached a spot above the line where the water stopped at high tide.

“You should really invest in baggier clothing, Lem,” I said.

It was late autumn at the Palm Beach estate. Lem wore a white cotton shirt and beach trousers that hugged the curves of his legs, leaving very little for the imagination.

He shrugged with a devilish smile. “Noted.”

We stared at each other for a breathless moment before I cleared my throat. “Gonna grab firewood.”

Lem dug several inches of sand for the fire pit while I followed a line of debris. The evening air brushed my skin as I walked along the soft and powdery sand. My mind crept back to Jackie, sitting at home with Caroline and little John-John. Warmth swelled around my heart as the image of my family persisted, curated and perfect.

But renegade feelings swirled around inside of me. Speaking to Lem outside of the confines of work both terrified and excited me. The rushing sound of waves helped to relax me as my stomach tied itself in knots.

Upon returning to our spot near the cabin, my breath hitched as Lem looked at me, his eyes a reflection of the gray brick buildings back at Choate Preparatory School. The sunset bathed his skin in an orange glow that left my pulse racing.

Smirking at my gaze, he took the driftwood and built an iconic cone-like structure on top of a small nest of twigs, grass, and dried seaweed. Very reminiscent of the ones we used to see when watching movies together in our dorm at Princeton.

Lem pulled a lighter out of the basket to start the fire, ensuring to add larger pieces of wood once the tinder had burned long enough. I pulled my knees up to my chest as he worked, both of us assuming the roles we knew. It was funny how, even after all this time, we still knew the motions like choreography to a familiar dance: ‘Rat Face’ and his knight.

“You remembered.”

“What?” I asked.

He held the bag up with a grin. “Jet-puffed marshmallows.”

“They expand better in the fire.”

He tore open the bag, shoving a couple into his mouth.

“Hey!” I grabbed the bag from him, smacking his hand when he reached for it. “You’re going to ruin your appetite.”

“For s’mores? Never.” He scooted beside me, the smell of burning flames mixed with his scent, making my head spin. “Here.”

When he reached inside for a marshmallow, his hand connected with mine, my skin sizzling to his touch. He jabbed a metal skewer into the oversized puff, then held it over the crackling fire.

I broke a large graham cracker in half, covering it with enough chocolate to make the sandwich. Lem snatched his half of the biscuit, nibbling on it to create crumbs like a summer snowfall amidst an autumn breeze.

He rotated the marshmallow over the fire, its charred sweetness swirling in the surrounding air. Lem’s gray eyes fixated on the dancing flames, painting his face in somber shades of twilight. Normally a man of a thousand words, silence was his conversation topic of choice tonight.

“So?” he asked, breaking the silence and leaning in for a gentle nudge. “What was so important that you had to sneak me away from work?”

When he turned to smile at me, his eyes twinkled, radiating a familiar warmth that used to keep me company on the coldest of nights. Tied together by an invisible tether for three decades, something in my subconscious mind knew exactly why we were here.

“I’m going to Dallas next week,” I said.

“Dallas?” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Why on earth would you be going there?”

“I need to smooth over some things between the liberals and conservatives.”

“Can’t you send someone else?” he asked. Lem exhaled a forceful breath. “I thought we were going to spend the holiday together this year.”

“You know I have to.”

With a slight tug on his lips, he took my hand in his, holding the gooey marshmallow against the chocolate. A strong awareness of my heartbeat overwhelmed my senses as he pressed down with his nibbled half of the graham cracker, making the s’more whole.

“Sure. But you have to promise me something first.”

“Okay.”

“Neither of us can leave until we’ve finished this bag of marshmallows.”

“Deal.”

And just like that, we were kids once again, picking up exactly where we left off. As we enjoyed the crunchy sweetness of our favorite summertime food, it rolled around in our mouths like the taste of a heaven we were forbidden to enter.

#

I closed the door to the space rover and buckled my seatbelt. Liam smiled at me from the driver's side, shifting the gears as we pulled away from the medical office building.

“So,” Liam began, “how did it go?”

“Fine.”

“What’d you learn?”

Dr. Abbott’s analysis echoed in my mind: “Reconnecting with your experiences in another time helps to explore unresolved emotions which have carried into this life.”

“Out with it already.” Liam placed his hand over mine. “Your pout face is annoying.”

I cleared my throat, buying myself some time to sort through the thoughts that raced around my mind like space destroyers orbiting around the planet. Here we were—two government dignitaries with the weight of the galaxy on our shoulders. I’d always believed we were destined for something greater than ourselves.

Liam cast a sidelong glance. “Are you still upset about the wedding?”

I shrugged with a scowl on my face as the gentle breeze caressed my cheek through the cracked window of the space rover.

“I already told you. Nobody cares about—”

“It’s not about the blasted wedding, Liam.”

It was the race for space.

The promise of the moon.

The idea of the Peace Corps.

Traveling the world to help others.

Destined for something greater.

“Was it the same for me?” I whispered.

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

“Alright.” Liam squeezed my shoulder, his touch sending shivers down my arm. “How about we go to the beach? Take your mind off things.”

I smiled at him with tentative consent. We would go through the motions—two connected souls kept apart by the universe. And the cycle would continue because of a prevalent truth Jack had always known.

Far too many people put their faith in me.

When Liam turned the corner—passing a jet fueling station—wayward thoughts brought a flush of heat to my face.

“Stop!”

Liam slammed on the brakes and gripped the steering wheel, his thoughtful marble gray eyes leaving me breathless. “What is it?”

No longer cheerful, his expression was subdued—so subdued that, when paired with his maroon sweater vest and sports coat, he might easily have been mistaken for a junior magistrate.

Would I finally do it?

His expression was unreadable with a slight hardening along the firm line of his jaw. “Well? Say something.”

My chest lightened, finally understanding what had been nagging at my soul this entire time: it filled me with love, as though my body transformed into a single blazing beam of light. Shooting up beyond the city into the stars above us…

Where Lem and I were alone. Totally free.

“Uh, we need to stop at the jet fueling station.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “For supplies.”

A slight tug pulled on his lips. “Marshmallows?”

Liam looked at me, and the soft orange glow from the space rover’s console illuminated his face against the shadows of a summer sunset. My breath hitched—his eyes two bare reflections of glittering moonlight from a past life.

And as I swerved away from the edge of the precipice, I shed our duty and embraced what Jack had always known. It was like waking with a gasp—confused—and relieved as a gentle, warm sensation filled our soul.

“Yeah,” I said, taking his hand in mine. “And toilet paper.”