Archive for the ‘Edd Vick’ Category
Given Names
Friday, November 30th, 2007
At first he was Alexander, named for his maternal grandfather. His hair sprouted red as a sundown sky. Though loving and generous, he was prone to awful tantrums. If he didn’t get his way he’d throw himself to the ground and scream as if he didn’t need to draw a breath.
In the baby name book I read that ‘Alexander’ meant ‘warrior’. On his fourth birthday I marched him down to the county courthouse and legally changed his name to Felix. That means ‘happy’. As we left I could see his hair darkening.
The tantrums disappeared. Felix was a compliant child, joyful, contented, happy.
Too happy.
His teacher was grave, apologetic but determined. She said Felix was a wonderful boy; he cooperated so nicely, but could not concentrate. He disrupted the class by wanting to play all the time. Perhaps I should consider putting my boy in a special class.
This time I spent more time in thought before I took him to the courthouse. My son must be more than smart and attentive, he must be clever. He turned six the day we went downtown. Felix entered, but Quinn, Irish for ‘wise counsel’, left with me. As we went I saw intelligence dawn in his eyes.
Four more years passed, and Quinn was a model child. He always did his homework immediately, completed his chores, got plenty of sleep, and never asked what was in his Christmas presents.
I missed the happy Felix. I missed the giving Alex. Quinn would always pull away when I wanted to hug him, eager to be thinking, anxious to be doing.
For his tenth birthday I got Quinn a bicycle, a globe, several Hot Wheels, and a new name. I’d studied baby name books, talked with other mothers. visited message boards. In the end I cheated.
Alexander Felix Quinn was loving, happy, and intelligent. Fourth time right, I thought.
And all was right. Many happy days followed. My son aced middle and high school, graduated early from college, and found the perfect job.
Then he met her. Leticia Addie-Marie seemed the perfect fit: full of joy and grace. They married in June. I couldn’t have been happier for him, for her, for them.
They named their son ‘Tiger’.
Where You’ll Find Me
Tuesday, November 13th, 2007
If it’s a Monday, I will awaken in a spherical space and stumble out a door to a glorious cloud-free day. It will feel like the beginning of something good and strong. I will find an old-fashioned key in my pocket for room 405 at the Tarleton Towers Hotel.
If it’s a Tuesday, I will have a Spanish omelet for breakfast. Opening the window, I will lean out and squint just a bit. Faintly, I will see the track of many time machines as they pass. I extend a hand, but the track is just out of reach.
If it’s a Wednesday, I will sleep in. I will read in the newspaper of a physics conference in this very hotel.
If it’s a Thursday, I’ll be glued to the television, watching the destruction of civilization. CNN will televise it all day until they (and everyone else) go off the air at 16:05 hours. I will take a single look outside my hotel room’s window, shudder, and draw the shades.
If it’s a Friday, I’ll take the time machine that Hans Beliskov discovered last Monday, and the memory eraser that Vera Pascal invented. Neither of them will be present to object. I will set the time machine to take me four days and five hours into the past, and while traveling I will use the eraser to destroy all I have experienced in the previous one hundred one hours. As the memories fade, I glance out the porthole to see myself, last Tuesday, and press a hand to the glass.
I am certain there were times I did not use the memory eraser, times I did things to try to save the world, but I no longer remember doing so.