Noble Rot

‘It’s our first date at Main Street Park, and he brought a fancy bottle of merlot.

I should be ecstatic, but he doesn’t look half as good in person. It’s one thing that he’s twice my age; it’s a whole other thing that it shows. At least his beard and sunglasses are nice. Most importantly, he’s not from around here. …You’ll put up with anything for an unfamiliar face, Kyle. You—'

“You’re talking to yourself.”

“Oh Jesus! I thought I was just thinking!”

“We all have our quirks, Kyler. Come sit with me.”

“The grass is wet. My slacks—”

“They’re just pants, Kyler. Come here; try the merlot already. I don’t want to seem pushy, but—"

“God, Marquee, SO pushy!”

‘He’s sticking to our dating app names, just like I asked him to. But I don’t like his forcefulness. Or maybe that’s what confidence looks like? What if I don’t want a confident partner? Why can’t he just flat out tell me that he likes me like he did in the app? …Kyler’s a stupid dating profile name, Kyle. Of course he knows your real name—'

“You’re doing it again. Be in the moment with me.”

“Ha! Sorry, I’m a hot mess tonight!”

‘I wish I could be in the moment, Marquee, but I think people are looking at us. People that know and hate me…They’re all looking at you. Especially if they’re not looking. Drink the merlot. Get drunk.’

“Whoa! This is really good! How would you describe it? Does it have nice tannins or something?”

“Ha! The one word everyone knows! I would say the mouthful is velvety, and the bouquet is fruity.”

“How suave! Is this glass two for me already? It’s glass two, isn’t it?”

“Heh, it is.”

“Ha! I’m never this way with wine! Wait, why aren’t you drinking?”

“Maybe later.”

“I might drink it all by then!”

“Slow down, please.”

‘He’s being controlling, but I wouldn’t care so long as he just said that he likes me. Why can’t he flat out say it like he did in the app? …You should be ashamed of your low self-esteem, Kyle. Say something before he calls you out again.’

“So how the hell do you know about Main Street Park? You’re not from here.”

“I actually did grow up in Cedar City.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah. I was getting my Bachelor’s in Psychology at SUU."

“That’s what I want to study! Are you a therapist or something?”

“Nope; quit senior year.”

“Oh. Why?”

“Wine, actually. I wanted a fresh start, so I worked on a vineyard for three years. After that, I traveled the world.”

“Seriously?! Where’d you go?”

“The southwest of France, mostly.”

“No way! France is at the top of my bucket list! Did we text about all of this already or something?”

“Ha! Serendipity, perhaps. Do you think you would ever do the same, Kyler? Travel?”

“Sure!”

“What if you went to France instead of college? You can afford a passport and a flight, right?”

“Ha! Sure!”

‘I don’t mean it. In fact, he’s scaring me. Coincidence is one thing, but this is weird. For God’s sake, Marquee, don’t be a nutcase. I barely trust people as it is; don’t make me right…Don’t lie to yourself. You just don’t like that his face is round like yours, or you that you both have big noses. You’re shallow, Kyle—'

“Did you not hear me? I asked you why you want to study psychology.”

“Eh? Oh. It’s that or business, you know?”

“Are you sure you’re not just trying to figure out what’s wrong with yourself? That’s why I studied it, but I just ended up diagnosing everybody else as crazy.”

“Why would you say that?!”

“Heh. Sorry. I guess I’m a hot mess too. Being home always makes me uneasy.”

“…Well, I do get that. This place isn’t exactly famous for open-mindedness.”

“Just another reason you might want to leave too, right? The world’s so much bigger than this town, and your life is worth the investment. Maybe knock France off the bucket list now?”

“Okay, why the hell are you so fascinated with me going there?!”

“Look, I don’t mean to say you must go there. But as one guy from Cedar to another, staying here for four more years will make things worse.”

“Oh, you know me now, Marquee?!”

“People don’t usually hear voices in their heads when everything’s going well for them, Kyle.”

“What?!”

‘He knows your real name, and that you’re crazy, Kyle. Just like everybody else—'

“It’s talking to you again, isn’t it? The voice?”

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?!”

“Kyle, I’m you, okay?! I know it sounds crazy, but—”

“Oh, screw this!”

‘I try to put distance between us, but he’s right behind me. His footsteps are completely silent, as if I’m being pursued by a feather. I look around to see if anyone else is reacting to the middle-aged madman chasing a kid, but it’s somehow already dark, and the park is empty.’

“KYLE! PLEASE STOP! I’M TRYING TO HELP!”

‘Enough is enough. I turn around and punch him as hard as I can. My fist goes right through him and – Wait…What the hell just happened?! My fist went right through him!’

“Kyle, you weren’t supposed to find out like this...”

‘This isn’t real, Kyle. You’re drunk. You haven’t taken your pills for weeks. You’re—'

“Get out of your head, Kyle. I am real, and I am you.”

‘The more I look at him, the more obvious the truth becomes. The same face, just older. And upon taking off his shades, the same perpetual look of discomfort. But as I keep staring, he is becoming transparent.’

“I don’t understand…Are you dead?!”

“I died this morning at the hospital. Pancreatic cancer.”

‘The crickets are not loud enough to drain out the echo of what he just said. Even the voice in my head is inaudible. I can’t be alone with him, but even as I close my eyes, I can still see him; slowly fading away.’

“You weren’t supposed to find out like this. I wanted to help you realize how important it is to leave town without telling you. The thing that said it would fulfill my last wish had warned me that I wouldn’t have much time once you found out. I just didn’t realize how little it would be.”

“What the hell was your last wish?! To torture me?!”

“What?! No! To show you some self-love so you don’t make my mistakes! But I forgot just how hurt I was at twenty. It threw me off-guard, and even made me angry. Please, just listen I have to be laser-focused while I’m still here so I can help.”

"I’m supposed to believe the dead guy teaching me life lessons is real?!”

“Yes! Leaving the country, getting away from everyone who saw me as the local black sheep; those were the bests choices I ever made. I got to meet many great new people. People so good, that just being near them was enough to keep me out of my head. But I never learned how to do that on my own. I got better at ignoring what the voice told me, but it never stopped talking to me the way it keeps speaking to you.”

“Oh God...”

“I stopped outwardly punishing myself, yet I still found subconscious ways to do it. I stopped getting physicals, and I disregarded years of declining health as being normal for my age.”

“This is your way of helping me?! By telling me I end up getting myself killed?!”

“I’m trying to help you, so you do not also die at forty!”

“I’m crazy. I will always be, apparently—"

“You’re not crazy, Kyle! Don’t let the voice in your head convince you that it’s yours!”

‘He’s lying to you, Kyle—’

“Kyle, everyone who’s judged you while growing up, everyone who’s said you’re too different for your own good; that’s all that your voice is! It’s just their words pretending to be yours inside your head! Just broken people from a backwards town telling you what you should think and feel! I thought studying psychology would teach me why I hated myself instead of those who hurt me. And it did, but it didn’t teach me how to love myself too. So by the time I was in senior year, I was also hurting people who didn’t deserve it. That’s why you must leave, Kyle. You don’t have to go to France or even skip college; you just can’t stay here—"

“Will you shut up?! You’re not helping! You’re making things worse!”

“How?!”

“I don’t need any more instability in my life! You never got a visit from your future-self, telling you how you’ll die, did you?! And now, you want me to just up and leave?! That may have been your story, but it isn’t mine! I’ll take what you said to heart! I’ll go to the doctor every year, I swear! But I can’t run away!”

“Nothing’ll change if you remain around the same people who taught you to hate yourself. You need to learn to care about yourself, Kyle.”

“I’LL FIND SOMEONE ELSE TO DO THAT FOR ME!”

‘There’s vomit in the back of my throat, and I drop onto my knees. My future-self tries to wrap his arms around me, but he can’t. He’s so transparent now, I can see the trees right behind him. We both know it’s almost time, and I cannot take any more of myself. I’m ashamed to be thankful for that, but I am.’

“Noble rot, Kyle.”

“…What…”

“Noble rot. It’s a wine term. It’s when mold eats away at grapes, withering them down into husks. To the untrained eye, the rot is bad. But in reality, noble rot allows the grapes to become the sweetest, most expensive wines in the world. Literally, the best of the best, and it’s all thanks to rot.”

“I don’t understand where you’re going with this.”

“Kyle, you’re already reached your rot. You already know what pain and self-loathing feel like. Now, it’s time to take all that, and learn the other end of the spectrum. Stay here, and you’ll just try to reverse everything you already were taught. But if you leave, then you’ll find people who’ll teach you how to become great. You can become the best of the best. Just get away from here, Kyle. You’re not crazy. If you can learn earlier than I did what you’re capable of, then I swear, you’ll—"

Kyle’s future-self vanished midsentence. His time was up.

In the blink of an eye, the park was full of people again. Kyle stared in disbelief at those nearby, but none stared back. No one offered even the faintest expression to suggest that his future-self had been real.

Kyle checked his dating app; there was no match named Marquee. However, the empty merlot bottle was real. ‘Did I steal it?’ he wondered, his memory hazy. He had also lost his memory the last time he stopped taking his medication, and that was for just one week as opposed to three.

“Rot,” he said out loud. The voice in his head was shockingly silent; as if it knew now was not the time to speak. Kyle had enough in the bank for a week, maybe two. The town around him didn’t just feel unsettling; it now felt unsafe. Was two weeks enough to start elsewhere?

He retrieved a quarter from his pocket. Heads, and he would stay; tails, and he would leave.

The quarter landed on its side in the dirt. It seemed like a sick joke, as if the voice in his head were indirectly telling him that both options were pathetic. But it wasn’t his own voice, and life wasn’t meant to be decided by a quarter. ‘Leave,’ he concluded, and walked to his car.