Chapter 9 - A Lot on My Mind

(...the living room...minutes later...)

Tim's body continues to writhe and squirm on the floor. After one last contortion, it goes limp.

(...an empty space...)

It's very quiet...very hollow and dark. Tim feels around. His hands lay onto a wall. He leans against it and picks himself up. Still touching the wall, he moves ahead. He can't help but wonder how long this will last. He bumps into a door. His search for a knob is successful. He turns it, to no avail; it's locked. He bangs on the door repeatedly. To his surprise, the door falls forward.

Tim walks into a wide open area. It resembles a giant library. There are bookshelves all around, as far as he can see. Strangely, though, there don't seem to be many books; the space is taken by manila folders and spiral notebooks. He glances about, confused by what's going on.

"Where am I?"

A smooth voice rings out. "It's not too surprising you don't recognize this place. After all, you hardly ever use it."

Tim's eyes dart around the 'library' in search of the person. He fixes on a ladder at one of the shelves. At the top of the ladder is a man. He looks about Tim's age, but his hair is dark and done up sort of like a rock star. His hands flip through the loose pictures of a folder.

The mystery man glances down at Tim. He closes the folder and puts it back on the shelf. He takes off the reading glasses he'd been wearing and tosses them away. The man reaches into his red jacket and pulls out a pair of sunglasses. He puts them on and slides down the ladder. Tim stares a little.

The man sidesteps a huge desk. On it are a large book and a paper shredder - just the thing to block out bad memories. "Don't tell me you don't recognize me. I'd be offended if you didn't."

Tim squints a little. Nothing comes to mind.

The man's genteel facade quickly melts away. "Gary! Remember? Your imaginary friend? I came to life, you didn't like me winning everybody over?"

Tim's mouth hangs open. He wasn't sure how to react to something like this.

"But, hey, no big deal, right?" His calm voice returns. "Things are working out nicely."

(...an apartment...)

It's a pretty messy place. Fairly unbecoming for anyone, but just right for the residents. There's a knock at the door. The response is a loud mumble. A more forceful knock. An equally annoyed grumble. One more knock, but a drawn-out one.

A figure stumbles through the mess and the darkness. "This had better be good." The owner of the voice sounds like she was fast asleep and wants nothing to do with anyone. The door opens. "Yeah, what happened?"

It's a sopping wet Virginia, with Thomas and Violet standing on either side of her. "Hello."

"Well, if it isn't my happily married sister and her wonderful children." Her tone is somewhat facetious. It's nice to know that, after all these years, Vicky hasn't changed a bit. "What the he..." She remembers that her niece and nephew are within earshot. "...what brings you here?"

"Well...Tim went a little crazy, and I had to leave him."

At those last two words, the red-head perks up. "Sister dear! Bring your single self on in. You must be soaked to the bone."

Vicky welcomes the travelers inside. "I'm not single. I'm still married."

"Sorry about the mess. I gave the maid a week off." The woman guides her sister and kids through the clutter. However, even if she had a maid, the place would, more often than not, look the way it does now.

"I'm still with Tim, Vicky." This stops the older woman in her tracks, the protests finally registering. "I just...had to get away from him."

Vicky strips off Virginia's coat and sits her down on a chair. "Why? Did he hit you?"

"No!"

Vicky sighs. "You're probably not in the mood for 'I told you so', huh?"

"When am I ever?"

"How did you even know I'd be here?"

"I didn't. I was hoping that someone would be here. I didn't know where else to go."

"Well, Charlotte would've let you in, I'm sure. Now, back to the tw--"

Virginia clears her throat. Old habits die hard.

"...you know who."

The brunette turns to her children. "Are you two okay?"

"We're fine. Just a little tired." Violet rubs her eyes a little.

"Well, you can go to Charlotte's room. I'm sure she wouldn't mind."

Thomas and Violet oblige their aunt and disappear down the hallway. She turns back to her sister. "So, what's going on?"

"I don't know. He was on the squirming on the floor. I'm not sure if it was a headache or a seizure. He acted like he wanted to hurt me, then he tells me to run." The brunette hunches over. "I shouldn't have left him."

Vicky falls on the couch. "A seizure? I'm no doctor, but that sounds just horrible. I wouldn't wish that on anyone." Virginia looks at her sister skeptically. She tried to locate any sense of irony or ridicule in the statement, but couldn't find them. "You heard me. I don't like him much, but I wouldn't want him dead." She never expected to hear that exact sequence from Vicky's lips...not even at his funeral, presuming she outlives him.

"And why didn't you like him?" Virginia figured that now was as good a time as any.

"Because...I don't like anybody, all right! Just leave it at that."

"Not even me? Your own flesh and blood?" Vicky looks away. "You could've left me out there. Why didn't you?"

The red-head turns back, fresh tears in her eyes. "I don't hate you. You wanna know something? I was jealous. In your whole life, only one person was ever scared of you and you married him. It feels like the whole world is scared of me. I...I just want to be loved, and when I'm not, I take it out on people, like Timmy."

"Mom and Dad love you."

"They're family. It's the rules."

"I love you. My kids love you, and I'm sure your roommate cares for you."

Vicky grabs her sister and hugs her tight. "I love you, too." She sobs onto Virginia's already moist shirt.

(...inside Tim's mind...)

Tim is led by Gary around the library. "...and here's where the childhood memories are stored. I tell you, I'd have never remembered this stuff if it wasn't right here. There's even a folder for me, if you can believe it..."

"Wait, wait. Are you saying that this is my mind?"

Gary outstretches his arms. "Welcome to the same page. I think you'll like it here."

"But why am I here?"

"It's been a long time since we last saw each other. So, you've been having a pretty good life?"

"Yeah, I was, then my wife left. Took the kids."

"Whoa. That's rough."

"It's the strangest thing, though." Tim glances off. "These last few days, it's like I was a different person; like I wasn't in control of what I said and did."

Gary walks away. "I can sympathize, pal. Take me, for example." He walks to the desk and grabs the book. "On and off for twenty years, I was at the mercy of an uncoordinated dork." He tiptoes back to the young man and swings the tome.

Tim falls to the floor. The figment stands over him. He looks at the cover. "'Ethics'. That is good."

"What...do you want?"

"That is a good question. I got trapped here when you stopped me. Not sure exactly how, but it happened. Naturally, the first thing on my mind was revenge, but how? Then, a couple years later, it hit me. Remember when you were thirteen and you were expecting a ten-speed for you birthday, but you ended up with underwear?"

"How could I forget?"

"That got you really pissed, but Heaven forbid you blow up at Mommy and Daddy, so you just smiled and walked away. Anger. Anger was the key. I thought I was defeated, then you deliver to me the very thing that keeps me going. Then you got to high school; girls, tests, popularity." Gary counts each point on his finger. "It was like Christmas every day."

(...Charlotte's bedroom...)

The room, while messy, is somewhat cleaner than the living room. Thomas and Violet sit on the bed. The two "hamsters" poof out of the cage.

Thomas exhales. "I can't understand what's going on."

Wanda floats in front of the children. "Kids, I think I may have it figured out. You said your father was acting sarcastic, right?"

"Yeah."

"Last night, I saw your mother look him in the eyes.

"And the eyes are a window to the soul", Violet offers. "Mommy says that from time to time."

"She saw something that really frightened her. I think that your father may not be himself."

"Well, we've already established that, Wanda." Cosmo pipes in. "If he's not himself, then who is he?"

(...Tim's mind...)

By now, Gary stands over Tim, surrounding him with his legs. "Your anger gave me the strength, the will to get out of here."

"Hold on." Tim makes the time-out sign. "Where could you possibly go?"

Gary points off. "Out there. Gonna make a name for myself. It'll still be your name, but I'll find a way past that."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'll put this in very simple terms: I want your body."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm already using it."

"That brings me to my anger issues." He gestures toward a bookshelf. "I've read all these wonderful fantasies, yet they've never been experienced."

"After high school, they were unimportant."

"Unimportant! That's ridiculous! You need to experience life, get out there, score with chicks. Be a man! You know, grab a beer and drop your pants, send the wife and kids to France. Come to think of it, they might be halfway there by now."

"You are crazy."

Gary crouches down. "Nah. Just lonely, which can lead to craziness. There are so many things I want--no, must do. Those fantasies...I've got a craving for them now. They need to happen. I want them to happen." And why not? In high school, Tim's hormones gave rise to a number of...interesting scenarios. One involved the cheerleading squad wrestling in a giant hot-fudge sundae; another involved a riding crop, ropes, lots of leather and the phrase "Yes, mistress Vicky." And then there was the one where Trixie and his current wife resolve their differences in a very friendly (and physical) way. He was once able to write his initials on the ceiling without having to reach up. A recent fantasy - one with a redheaded psychologist working a pole - quickly became a popular one.

"Well, they can't."

The figment gets right in his creator's face. "They will. I didn't survive this long to just give up."

"And just how do you intend to get this stuff done?"

Gary paces a little. "Well...there's obviously not enough room in here for the both of us, so one of us has to go." The figment turns back, his eyes narrowed to slits. "Guess who it is."

(...Charlotte's bedroom...)

"Okay. Here's what we know: your father has taken to insulting people..."

"...and he suffered from headaches."

"And something in his eyes scared Mommy."

"That all adds up to..." The green-haired fairy racks his brain trying to figure it out. "I don't know, but we could certainly rule out revenge."

Thomas jumps off the bed. "Cosmo, who would do these things for revenge?"

The kids think about that point. Wanda gasps a little. "Maybe someone who was trying to get out."

"But who could try to get out of Dad?", Violet wondered. "And how would they even get there?"

The pink-haired fairy slowly looks to her husband. Thomas silently notes this. "Would you excuse us?" Whatever they needed to talk about, the boy thought, it must've been important: Wanda dragged Cosmo away by his ear.

The fairies disappear behind a wall. Through it, Thomas can hear a heated conversation.

Violet approaches her brother. "What's going on?"

Thomas shushes her. "You told me you locked the door!"

"Well, I was sure I did. It was such a long time ago."

"Now, his life is in danger!"

The arguing seems to cease. Thomas moves away from the wall and sits on the bed. The fairies return.

"Anything new to report, kids?"

"No. How about you?"

"Nothing, really."

"Hmmm."

(...the living room...)

Virginia holds her sobbing older sister and rubs her back. Vicky had been crying on and off for some time. It had occured to the younger woman that she never, not once, had seen or heard her sister crying.

"Thank you for coming."

"Thank you for being here." They break apart. "Now, I should find a way to help Tim."

The redhead takes a breath. "You probably should go to him."

(...Tim's mind...)

"Think of what you could have had. Think of what you could have...of what you had last night."

"Oh..." Tim sounds quite nauseated.

"Just one fantasy that came true."

"Oh, my God." His tone is more worried.

"Hey, man, pull the panties out of your crack. I used protection."

Tim starts gagging, almost like he's ready to vomit.

"I can't believe this. You lost your nerve."

The creator swallows a huge gulp. "I grew up."

"You got weak."

"I got wise!" Tim exhales. "So, all that stuff about me loving Trixie, that was all you?"

"It started out as you, but I helped it along."

"I was a stupid little kid with stupid little ideals of beauty and perfection. We could never have worked out."

"If you were willing to try! And who did you end up going for? 'Oh, Tiiiiiiiimmmmmmy!'" He mocks Virginia's childhood voice fairly well. "God, that voice is like nails on a chalkboard!"

"You don't know her like I do."

"What's there to know? You married your stalker!" Tim can take no more. He stands up and throws his fist at Gary. He grabs it and responds in kind. Faster than the brown-haired man can react, it connects. Without letting go of Tim's hand, the figment sweeps his creator's legs, sending him to the floor. Tim tries to sit up, but doesn't make it two inches when Gary's foot falls to his neck.

"All you had to do was just let me take over. No problems, no sweat. But look at us now." Tim tries to remove the shoe, but that compels Gary to press down more. "I'm gonna have a little fun with her...that is, after I have a little fun with her." The dark-haired young man put a particular edge in the latter part of his statement. Though he could understand what Gary was saying. Tim felt himself blacking out. "And, as for your kids...well, I'm sure they'll get used to being orphans. I'm not a monster."

Tim's eyes blink rapidly; he's drifting in and out of consciousness. In his darkness, he can barely make out a figure in white. He could swear it reminded him of something he read not too long ago. He tries to wrap his mind around it. 'The young woman stood at the edge of the cliff. A stiff breeze caused her long white dress to billow and her long red hair to flow about her. The unusual thing is that the woman's hair was dark, not red. Even as his vision grows weaker, the figure becomes clearer. The modest curve of her chest, the flow of her jet-black hair, the rims of her glasses. Tears form in her eyes, but they appear to be more out of joy than sadness. Her lips move and her voice is clear and loving:

"I love you."

Gary clamps his foot down on Tim's neck like he was stamping out a cigarette. "Any last words, Tim?"

All he can offer in response is raspy mumbling. The figment removes his foot. "Oh, sorry." After some heavy coughing...the same result. Gary crouches down, his legs on either side of Tim's left extremity. The creator moves his leg. The figment feels a pant leg brush against his own. Gary jumps back before Tim can do anything.

"Oh, no, you don't!" He lands just short of Tim's feet. "Did you really think you could fight me?" Gary takes a step closer. His foot picks up, ready to aim. "Well, let's see how you like it." Tim sees that Gary's other leg is right in the path of his legs. Tim rolls over, clamping the figment's prone leg, and sends him to the ground. Tim slides over to Gary. A foot to the crotch. One to the gut. Even when you're imaginary, it hurts.

Without thinking, Tim rushes to the bookshelf and starts flipping through the folders.

(...Charlotte's bedroom...)

Wanda floats by the kids. They still seem lost in thought. Her husband as well; this was most likely to take his mind off of the current situation.

She takes a deep breath. "Kids...I'm kind of reminded of a story."

Violet looks at her, blue eyes filled with wonder. "What kind of story?"

"Well, there was once a boy who had an imaginary friend. Not only was the friend more liked than the boy, but he was something of a jerk. The two of them had a fight and the friend was defeated."

Thomas stares with great interest. "What happened to the boy?"

"He grew up...married a wonderful woman and they had two lovely children. It was thought that the friend was safely out of the way..." Her pink-eyed gaze locks on Cosmo. "...but some of us can't lock doors!"

The twins look at each other, almost like something of great importance has occured to them. "What kind of story?"

"A fairy tale", Wanda murmurs.

"You were Daddy's fairies!", the kids exclaim. Wanda shushes them. "You were Daddy's fairies?" Ah, much quieter.

"We didn't want to tell you; Da Rules and all."

"Can we ask Daddy about you?", Thomas inquires.

"He wouldn't remember us, anyway. Besides, it's already a big risk telling you."

"Don't worry. We're really good at keeping secrets." The fairies felt very good; they knew that their kids could be trusted.

A knock at the door disrupts the reverie.

"Kids, is everything all right in there?"

The door opens. Virginia stands in the entry. "What's going on? I heard you yell 'Daddy!'."

"Yes. We need to get back to him."

"We miss him so much."

"So do I. Well, gather your things. We're going home."

The kids cheer.

(...Tim's mind...)

Tim stands on the ladder. He's flipped through a few shelves, but... "Damnit, where is it? It's not under 'childhood memories', so where could it be?" He glances over past shelves labelled 'useful knowledge', 'useless trivia', 'cool movie stuff' and 'fantasy files'. He stops at one labelled 'important people'. "Nah. It couldn't be there." Nonetheless, he slides the ladder over to the titled shelf and flips through the files: Mom, Dad, Vicky (without her, he would never have met Virginia). He snatches a file off and jumps down. Gary rises to his feet and limps to the table. Tim grabs the portable shredder.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Tim holds a slip of paper over the mouth of the shredder. "Cleaning house."

Gary squints at the sheet and smirks. "Nice try, but that's only the cover sheet. It provides a character sketch and a few pics that really don't do me justice. You destroy that and I'll still be around. You just won't know who I am."

"So..." Tim picks up the file. "I guess it's pretty lucky that I've got the whole file." Gary gasps in shock.

The figment steps back nervously. "Hey, hey. Can't we talk about this? How 'bout we make a deal? You get the body for the week, I get it weekends?"

Tim turns on the machine. Its buzzing is hardly music to Gary's ears. "Wait. How 'bout you get it in the day, and I take nights?" The creator's eyes narrow.

For the first time in a while, Gary wears a look of anger on his face. "You don't get it, do you? You shred that file and I'll still be around. I'm a part of you. You'll still lose!"

"It's not about winning or losing. It's about me taking control." With a yell, Gary leaps at Tim, who sticks the file inside. Little bits of confetti sprinkle about. Gary loses his carbon form and dissolves into mist. Tim feels the cloud pass through him. He switches off the machine and drops to his knees, his breathing quite labored.

"Thank God that's done." He looks around. "Now what?" Tim takes a few reverberating steps. He stops suddenly. His torso jerks back and forth, like someone is shaking him.

(...the Turner living room...)

Virginia lightly shakes Tim's still form. "Tim! Tim, please wake up!"

Thomas and Violet stand watching. "Mommy..."

She snaps her head around. "Go to your room. Now!" The words are practically screamed out. The children obey with great speed. This is one thing they did not need to see.

"Tim, wake up." The brunette collapses on his chest. "Please." She cries into his shirt.

A hand runs through her hair and massages her back. Virginia raises her head. She looks up and smiles a little. Tim returns the gesture. She looks into his eyes. Her apprehension disappears.

She wipes some of the tears from her eyes, but they won't stop coming. "Hey, stranger."

"Hey, stranger's wife."

Tim and Virginia wrap each other in perhaps the biggest hug they've ever experienced.

"Tim...what in the world happened?"

"I'll tell you what I can, but for now..." He buries his face in her hair and holds her tight.