This is the final installment of a four part series.
Meena wakes up back in her bedroom. Her face is still wet.
“Scott?” she calls out.
No answer. She rubs her eyes with her hands.
Meena decides to get a glass of water from the kitchen. It’s obvious to her now that the Spirit of Decisions Future is coming whether she wants it or not, so she may as well be ready.
She flips on the light and there is a hooded figure standing at her sink wearing white satin gloves and reading a book. It turns its head. She can see two frightening neon yellow eyes peering at her from inside the hood.
Meena freezes, panic has her unable to move.
After a moment, her vocal cords release. “Sp..sp..spirit of Decisions Future, r..r..rright?”
It nods and turns down its hood. All Meena can think is “Don’t scream, don’t scream.”
She’s looking at demon-possessed version of Ronald McDonald. The shock of coiffed red hair that is Ronald’s signature has been streaked with black zigzags. This clown’s hair manages to be matted but at the same time fans out, away from its face. The ends are bright yellow. It’s the halo from hell. Dingy white paint covers its face completely. Jet black diamond shapes haphazardly shade its eyes. A perfect rosy red rectangle is painted over its mouth with several coats, making it look almost like a piece of leather has been bolted there.
Meena tries levity to allay her fears. “You’ve got quite the look, haven’t ya?”
Big mistake. It smiles at her, revealing rows upon rows of tiny brown triangular teeth.
“Um, OK then."
Don’t scream. Don’t scream.
Just then Tanya’s grandmother comes rushing through Meena’s front door.
“Meena? Meena? Are you alright? I called you 5 times this morning and you didn’t answer.”
Meena walks back into her living room. “Grammy Jo, what are you doing here?”
The woman keeps calling for Meena, searching the kitchen and the bathroom. She heads towards the bedroom.
Meena starts to follow her down the hall when she hears a shriek.
“Oh my God! Meena!”
Grammy Jo picks up the phone and starts to dial 911. “Hello? My name is Tanya Moore and I’m at 1275 December Street, Apartment 9. I came to check on my friend and she’s not breathing! Please, hurry!”
It’s not Tanya’s grandmother. It's Tanya...about 40 years from now.
At that moment, Meena can finally see herself. She’s on the bed. Her eyes are closed, mouth slightly open and her face is the color of ash. Despite Tanya’s efforts, she’s too late.
If this is 40 years from now…then she still lives in this apartment. Oh shit.
Meena immediately backs out of the room and starts hyperventilating. She sits down on the couch in her living room to regain her composure. It’s the same couch. The spirit raises its arm and waves its gloved hand across her living room like its showing pieces on a game show.
“How did this happen? Why am I still here?”
The Spirit points at her.
“I never move out of this apartment?”
It stares at her.
“No? That can’t be.” Meena insists.
“I never get married or have kids?”
It shuts it eyes and moves its head vigorously from side to side. The Spirit then hands Meena the book it was reading. It’s a brown leather bound book with gold leaf lettering. The title of the book is “The Life of Meena Clayton”.
Still upset, Meena anxiously flips through the book. In Courier type font, her life is laid out, starting from her birth. Each period of her existence has been recorded. Meena wants to know what happened, that she ended up here, still living in this dump – with the same hideous furniture, no less.
She turns ahead to the sections that should contain her future and she finds that they are handwritten, lightly in pencil.
“Typed pages have already happened; pages in pencil have yet to happen, right?”
Oh no. It smiles again.
“That means they can be changed, right?”
Another nod.
“And if I keep doing exactly what I’m doing now?”
The spirit points in the direction of her bedroom. Then it then starts moving forward, as if to embrace her. She’d been so distracted by her revelation that she almost forgot how frightening the spirit’s face actually was. The prospect of it touching her is almost too much to bear. Her heart begins to race. Meena finds herself enveloped in darkness. Her self-control evaporates and she starts yelling and clawing wildly, trying to get out.
She wakes up and finds herself in combat with her bed sheets.
A feeling of incredible elation overcomes her.
“I’m not dead in this apartment! I’m not dead in this apartment!” she shouts to no one. She looks around to make sure the spirit is also gone.
She looks at the clock on her nightstand. It’s 5 a.m.
Meena races out of bed. “I’ve got work to do!”
Epilogue
One year later…
“Meena, I really appreciate you picking me up for dinner. With your father out of town for that golf trip, I was going crazy in that house by myself.”
“No problem, Mom. I’m glad we’re having a “girl’s night”, besides its Taco Tuesday!” Meena laughed.
“How’s work on your book going?”
“Really great. I’m about 75% of the way done. Then I’ll turn it over to the team at the publishing house. I have a meeting next week to talk about marketing strategies and a tour when the book comes out.”
“I still can’t believe you sold a book idea to a major publisher with only a summary and an outline.” Mom said.
“You know Mom, I still can’t believe it either. I just knew that I had to try. With the book advance, I was able to quit my job and just concentrate on writing. It’s been a dream come true, writing every day. It’s also a lot easier to do that in my new apartment. Much less noise and a lot more light.”
“Did you have to throw away all of your furniture, though? Not that I liked any of it all that much, but your place is so bare right now.”
“Mom, don’t worry. I’m just making room for new stuff. I’m going to make that place exactly like I want it to be. I couldn’t do that with what I had – it looked like a time machine threw up in my apartment. I had pieces from the 70’s, 80’s and 90’s, none of which fit together.”
Meena’s mother nodded her head vigorously. “I suppose you’re right…” she sighs and places her hand over chest. “My daughter, the writer! I don’t know what’s come over you in the past year, but I’m so proud. I almost had a heart attack when you called to ask if you could use my car for your driving test. I thought I was dreaming! Then, it seemed like the very next day you were asking for advice on how to purchase a car!”
Meena smiles.
“How’s it going with that guying you’re seeing, Sam?”
“It’s going fine Mom. He’s a great guy and we have a great time.”
“Oooh…” she purrs. “That sounds promising!”
“Take it easy Mama, we just met a few months ago. I’m still getting my life together. I’m in no hurry.”
“Who is this woman and what has she done with my daughter?” Meena’s mom asks the car window.
Meena throws her head back and laughs.
