Reminisce

Chapter 10 Reminisce

Rick Lane awoke with a soft sigh, the familiar scent of dusty books and old wooden furniture filling his nostrils. The faint, floral pattern of the wallpaper, peeling slightly at the corner near the window, was exactly as he remembered it. Once again, he was back. In a dream. In his past. Occupying the body of his seventeen-year-old self. The transition, as always, was seamless, a gentle drift from the future's plush king-sized bed to the narrow, slightly lumpy twin in his boyhood room in City Bee.

Sunlight, a gentle golden hue unique to early mornings in the Kingdom of Poh, streamed through the sheer curtains, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. On the small, chipped bedside table, a worn notebook lay open. A note, scrawled in an ugly handwriting both foreign and intimately familiar, was taped to the page. It was from his younger self.

"Rick, I've read your letter. I'm confused, but I knew that something was wrong when a lot of memory did not fit my situation. This is wild, but… exciting. A second chance, you said. Then let's make it count. Cooperation. Happy future. I'm willing to do it. – Your younger, eager self."

Rick smiled, a genuine, unburdened curve of his lips that rarely found its way onto his fifty-year-old face. His seventeen-year-old self was surprisingly receptive, quick to grasp the impossible, and even quicker to embrace the opportunity. He wanted to teach himself many things, but he had to wait. He had to do things methodically.

The younger Rick was a blank slate in many ways, eager for guidance, but also possessed a youthful optimism that Rick had long since lost. He hadn't told him about the lottery yet. That was a secret he'd keep close, a potent, almost magical key to unlocking their financial future without raising too many eyebrows. Low bets, steady wins, untraceable cash. It was the safest way.

He stretched, his younger body surprisingly spry, unburdened by the aches and stiffness that plagued his older self. This was a gift, a chance to right so many wrongs, to build a life not just for himself, but for the woman he had loved and lost. Jenny. The thought of her brought a fresh wave of purpose.

First things first: capital. Rick pulled on a pair of jeans and a simple t-shirt, clothes his younger self had left out. It was not his taste, but he could not do anything about it, as these were the only clothes available. He checked his pockets. A few coins, probably enough for a snack, but nowhere near what he needed. His eyes landed on the old piggy bank on his dresser, a ceramic pig with a perpetually cheerful grin. He shook it. The satisfying rattle of coins and a few crumpled Poh bills told him it wasn't empty. He could only shake his head in frustration as he lacked money. He could only go to the bank and ask his mom to withdraw some money from his account.

He then pulled out his modern smartphone, the glowing rectangle a stark contrast to the rustic room. In it, nestled amongst future photos of Mark and Sarah, of his sprawling restaurant empire, were meticulously compiled notes. Stock market trends, burgeoning industries in the Kingdom of Poh, and detailed information about CCOKE's policies and major agricultural players. This was part of his plan for the future, but for now, the lottery was his quickest path to a substantial, untraceable income. He had the winning numbers for the next three weeks in it, chosen for their relatively low payouts to avoid suspicion. He just needed initial capital to place the bets.

"Okay," he muttered to himself, "time to get to work."

He slipped out of the house, the cool morning air a crisp embrace. The streets of City Bee were already stirring, the rhythmic clatter of milk carts and the distant hum of early morning traffic filling the air. He walked purposefully, his mind buzzing with calculations. He needed to go to the bank and get some money. For now, he has no desire to think of increasing his capital yet. What he needed was to see his future wife, the love of his life.

Taking a taxi, Rick looked outside and saw the rustic scenery before him. Small buildings and dusty roads, he tried to compare it to the future where towering buildings have already lined up the streets of Bee City. He found some familiar stores where he would always go in his younger years while at the university. The many places that he took Jenny for a date because he did not have enough money to spend.

Jenny, the ever understanding girlfriend that she was, would sometimes pay for their meals. Though Rick's family lived a comfortable life, his allowance was only 20.00 Poh. It was only enough for a fare and a small snack of sweet banana cutlets. He could not help but sigh as he knew that his mother was a penny-pincher. The reason for this is that his dad did not have a stable job, just like him in the past.

Remembering this, he could not help but shake his head. Soon, the taxi reached the bank and he got off.

"Mom!" He greeted his mother upon seeing her behind her desk, working on some papers.

"Hey, Ricky! Why are you here?" his mother asked with a knitted brow.

"I want to withdraw 500 Poh," Rick said without going around the bush.

His mother frowned, but did not say anything. She processed it and gave Rick the 500 Poh.

Rick received the money and showed a faint smile. "Next week, I'm depositing another 2,500.00 Poh… So don't worry, okay?" he assured her.

He knew his mom; he knew how she treated money. So he needed to assure her that he would not spend all of it, but instead would have an increase. Hearing his words, his mother's knitted brow relaxed.

"I'll be off now, Mom!" he said as he gave his mother a kiss on her forehead.

"Go, go! You're disturbing my work," she waved her hand.

Rick left the bank when one of his mother's coworkers suddenly asked. "2,500 Poh? Where does he get so much money?"

Rick's mom smiled and shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. As long as he earns it with his own hands, it's fine," she said humbly, but there was still a hint of pride in her tone.

After Rick went out of the bank, his next stop was a small flower stall on the corner, its vibrant blooms a cheerful splash against the grey morning. He picked out a single, perfect crimson rose, its petals still dewy. He paid the vendor, a simple act that felt both ordinary and incredibly profound. This rose wasn't just a flower; it was a connection, a bridge to a past he cherished, a gesture he deeply missed making.

He arrived at the university just as the first wave of students began to trickle in. The campus was a familiar sight – the ivy-covered brick buildings, the manicured lawns, the faint echo of youthful chatter. He walked towards the main quad, his gaze sweeping over the faces, searching. And then he saw her.

Jenny Kane.

She was sitting on a bench beneath a blossoming cherry tree, her head bent over a textbook, a stray strand of dark hair falling across her face. She wore a simple, light blue dress, and even from a distance, Rick's heart did a familiar somersault. She looked just as he remembered her at seventeen – radiant, earnest, and utterly captivating. A profound sense of gratitude washed over him, mixed with a pang of sorrow for the years they'd lost. He walked towards her, the single rose held carefully in his hand.

"Hey, Jenny," he said, his voice a little huskier than his seventeen-year-old self's, a slight tremor of emotion in it.

She looked up, her eyes wide and expressive, meeting his. A surprised smile touched her lips, quickly replaced by a hint of shyness. "Rick! Good morning. You're early today."

He extended the rose to her. "For you."

Her eyes widened further, a blush creeping up her neck. She looked around quickly, as if afraid someone would see. Then, with a playful huff that didn't quite hide the delighted sparkle in her eyes, she snatched the rose from his hand, tucking it behind her textbook, a small, annoyed frown on her face. "Rick! What are you doing? It's a bit embarrassing…" But the fleeting, almost imperceptible curl of her lips, the slight tremor in her hand as she held the stem, told him everything. She liked it. She always had.

He knew that she was an introvert at this time and had not yet developed her other skills.

"Just admiring a beautiful flower with an even more beautiful person," he teased, settling onto the bench beside her. He leaned back, stretching out his legs, a casual posture that belied the torrent of emotions within him. "So, what's got you so engrossed this morning?"

She giggled, a light, musical sound that filled him with warmth. "Just reviewing for Professor Eldridge's history class. He's giving a pop quiz today, and I completely forgot until now." She risked a quick glance at him, then at the hidden rose. "Thanks for the rose, Rick. It's… nice."

"You're welcome… Jenny," he said softly, a lump forming in his throat. He had to resist the urge to pull her into a tight hug, to tell her everything, to warn her about the future. Not yet. He needed to re-establish their connection naturally, to build trust, to make sure she fell in love deeper with him again, not just a ghost of a memory.

They talked as other students began to fill the quad, their voices a low murmur around them. Rick didn't mention the bakery again, didn't hint at any grand plans. Instead, he focused on the small, mundane details of her life and family, the things he'd forgotten over the decades, the daily rhythms that defined her youthful existence.

"How was your weekend?" he asked, genuinely curious. "Did you and Joana finally figure out that recipe you were struggling with?" he added.