The Man on the Pier by Otis Johnson and A. Sidrabene

The Man on the Pier by Otis Johnson and A. Sidrabene

1

DJ Tetsuo paced around the green room. Khaos Kore was playing harsh industrial. Kore’s tracks sounded muddy, like low-quality MP3’s. The song changed, and Tetsuo saw that Khaos wasn’t actually mixing; he had pressed play and was holding knobs and faking it. It was shitty DJ practice, playing pre-recorded playlists, but as long as Khaos was opening for Tetsuo, Tetsuo didn’t care.

Tetsuo was not a heavy user of drugs. He indulged in a little coke before his shows, to be super alert, but that was it. Dr. Drew Pinsker said once, “There’s no such thing as a good drug or a bad drug.” Tetsuo took a bump to each nostril with a tiny spoon, then resealed the small, wooden vial he kept his cocaine in.

Midnight arrived. Time for his set. Tetsuo went to the stage, and Khaos’s track was still going strong. Tetsuo chilled for two minutes, but Khaos was still playing. Tetsuo counted four guys, dancing and mouthing the lyrics to the incel music. Tetsuo tapped Khaos on the shoulder.

“Let me finish,” yelled Khaos loudly, so Tetsuo could hear.

At 12:06, Tetsuo tapped Khaos’ shoulder again, aggressively. “It’s my time!”

Khaos, petulant, stopped playing. He ripped his flash drive out of the deck and stomped away pissed, leaving dead air. How does this guy get to play here, Tetsuo wondered. One thing you never did as a DJ was have dead air. In this case, it really didn’t matter; there were only four dancers.

Tetsuo decided to make the silence work for him. He started with a classical intro from Edo Death Machine, his favorite anime. Next, Tetsuo mixed in a solid, 4/4, 95 bpm beat. A few people made their way to the dance floor. Mila, the gorgeous Ukrainian dancer, climbed onto the stage with a pair of glowing light whips, and fell right into the rhythm.

Mila always attracted an audience, and about a dozen people were dancing now. Tetsuo spotted Khaos standing to the side of the dance floor, glowering with folded arms.

Three songs in, a small group left the dance floor. Tetsuo checked his track. It was an underground find with Akira samples. Did he make a poor selection? A few bars later, the missing dancers returned with friends. Hell yeah. Tetsuo kept dropping tracks and mixing them in, gradually pushing the tempo up. Tetsuo grinned—it was a good show.

D3th, the closing act, was hovering nearby. Tetsuo mixed out his last song, and let D3th take over. Tetsuo hugged D3th and pulled out his flash drive, then walked into the green room and readied another bump.

Shit. The door opened, and he was caught red handed, raising a spoon to his nose. It was Mila, wearing a skimpy PVC outfit, covered in glitter, and a sheen from dancing. She laughed. “I promise I won’t tell,” she said with her lilting, Eastern European accent. “Go ahead.”

Tetsuo continued, but gingerly. He didn’t want to appear a fiend.

“Can I have some?” asked Mila.

“Of course,” smiled Tetsuo. He passed her the vial.

The door swung wide open, and Mila closed her hand to hide the vial. It was Khaos. He looked at Tetsuo and scowled, then turned to Mila. “Hey Mila,” said Khaos, “You look hot. Can I get a hug?”

“Sorry,” said Mila. “We were just leaving.” Mila dragged Tetsuo out of the room.

“Wow, cringe!” said Tetsuo laughing. “Hey, wanna get a drink and hang out in in VIP for a little?”

“Sounds great,” said Mila with a smile. He did love her accent.

Cocktails in hand, they ducked into a booth where they could both stealthily have a little coke. Across the room, Tetsuo spotted Lin, his ex-girlfriend. They weren’t on speaking terms, so he ignored her. She glared openly at him and Mila before moving on.

“Looks like I’m not the only one here with an ex,” said Mila, smiling again. “Look at us with our red flags.”

“You dated someone here?” asked Tetsuo.

“Khaos,” she said, “We broke up and he won’t leave me alone.”

“Wait, you guys dated?” Tetsuo was surprised. “I didn’t even notice. I’ve been DJing here for a year, but I didn’t see you guys together.”

“You see what you want to see,” she laughed. “Anyway, I’m trying to forget about that asshole.”

“Right, my bad,” said Tetsuo lifting his cocktail. “Let’s leave the past where it belongs.”

Mila scooted closer in the booth, so her fish net-covered leg was touching his. Tetsuo felt someone watching him. The contact was great, but the feeling of being watched was unnerving. “Am I crowding you?” Asked Mila, picking up on his concern.

“Oh, no.” said Tetsuo. He put his hand on her thigh to reassure her. It was forward, but she smiled, and he left it there. A dark haired girl had her phone up. Was she filming them? The girl put her phone down and walked away.

“Mila, do you know that girl?” Asked Tetsuo.

“No. I’ve never seen her. Is that your type?” She laughed.

“I prefer blondes,” he grinned. Mila had platinum-colored hair.

“What was that theme you started your set with?” Mila asked curiously. “Is that the theme from Tokyo Death Duel?”

“I haven’t seen that. It’s from Edo Death Machine.”

“I’ve never heard of that,” she said.

“Oh my God, it’s huge.” Tetsuo was excited. “It’s where I got my DJ name.”

“I just guessed you took it from Akira,” said Mila. This girl is cool, thought Tetsuo.

“This Tetsuo was closer to what the word means—‘Iron Man.’ Tetsuo in Edo Death Machine is a literal samurai made of iron.

“Where can I watch it? Is it streaming somewhere?” She asked.

“It’s older, but I have it on disc at home. You wanna come over and check it out?”

“Absolutely!”

They made a fast exit, and she followed his car to his apartment.

2

Tetsuo ran his finger across his DVDs, looking for Edo Death Machine. It used to be right before Full Metal Alchemist, but was now gone from his collection.

“So where’s this epic anime?” asked Mila from the couch.

“I can’t find my disc,” said Tetsuo. “It’s supposed to be right here.”

“Made up anime is probably the worst way a guy has tricked me into coming over,” she laughed. “I bet I can find Tokyo Death Duel.”

Mila flipped around between applications for a minute, then started a show. The Edo Death Machine score started playing, and, to Tetsuo’s shock, the show looked almost the same.

Damn it, is this a ripoff? He fell into the couch next to Mila.

“What’s wrong?” She asked.

Nothing… everything? Am I remembering wrong? Is this girl fucking with me? Early onset dementia?

“Do you want another drink?” He asked. “Not a lot, just another to take the edge off.”

“Why not? That Grey Goose over there looks delicious.”

Tetsuo mixed two cocktails and came back to the couch. Mila propped her legs in his lap, and they watched the show.

After a few episodes, she passed out where she was. With a free hand, he covered them both with a blanket, and fell into a light sleep.

A few hours later, Mila’s phone woke them up.

“Oh, sorry! I passed out!” She apologized.

“No you’re fine,” he smiled. “We had a long night.”

Mila grinned too, feeling relaxed.

“Are you hungry?”

“No, I better go. I have to feed my cats.”

“Let me walk you out. It’s not the best neighborhood.”

“I’d like that,” she smiled.

As they exited his place, Tetsuo offered her his hand; Mila, smiling, took it. Her hands were so small compared to his. The colors of their skin also contrasted nicely; his light brown color much darker than her own. They walked that way down to the street.

Tetsuo’s car was where he left it, in front of Mila’s, and it was a total mess. The windows were busted, the doors were open, and so was the console and the glove compartment. He let her hand go so he could investigate, and gagged as he approached. His car reeked of urine and feces. Mila’s car was untouched. She actually cried for him.

“What the fuck… I’m so sorry this happened to you!”

Mila got up on her leather booted toes, and kissed him on the mouth. For a brief moment, it was all better.

“Call me tonight. I’m going to bed.” Mila hugged him, and drove off.

Tetsuo noticed some teenagers watching him from the apartments across the street.

“Hey!” He yelled. “Did you guys see anything?” The teens scattered.

Tetsuo called the police. While waiting for the cops to show up, he put on Tokyo Death Duel. The Tetsuo he knew had been replaced by some kind of beast man, but otherwise, it was strikingly a similar show to Edo Death Machine.

Tetsuo knew he should sleep, but he had more cocaine and binge-watched several episodes in a row. After a few hours, the police rang, and he shoved his tiny stash in a drawer.

“Do you know anyone that would vandalize your property?” Asked an officer named Ruiz.

My ex. Khaos. Those kids. That weird girl at the club.

“No sir,” he said.

“This is an official crime scene. Please don’t disturb anything. We are going to impound your vehicle and we will release it when we’ve finished our investigation.”

“I need it to get to work.”

“Your insurance will set you up with a rental. You can get a Charger like this.” The officer pointed at his squad car.

“Yeah, okay,” smiled Tetsuo.

Honestly, every sci-fi nerd wanted a cop car. Robocop. Blade Runner. Tetsuo felt like this cop was just jerking his chain, though. The car situation was fucked up, and yet the police didn’t care. ACAB, right?

Tetsuo called D3th. D3th was the homie. Tall, strange, white guy with long hair, always down for whatever, giving to a fault. Tetsuo had to check himself often and make sure he wasn’t using his friend.

D3th arrived later to give him a ride to the rental place. They stopped at a light, and a fit Asian woman in leggings held up her phone. She was filming them. Another one?

“D3th, what’s that called when you think people are following you and fucking with you?”

“Paranoid delusion, my friend.”

“No, I read it online once.”

“Ah, you mean gang stalking. It’s absolutely bonkers.”

“Oh yeah?” Tetsuo asked.

“Yeah,” said D3th. “Blame the internet. A bunch of crazy people found each other and turned their paranoia into a conspiracy theory. Really what they need is help, but they all just reinforce each other’s delusions. Look it up on Seenit. People are on there saying that their whole block are paid actors.”

“Holy shit.”

“You feeling alright, brother?”

“Yeah, I just don’t like this car shit. It feels personal.”

“Who would do that?” Asked D3th.

“Well… I did take Mila home last night,” said Tetsuo, grinning.

“Fuck yeah. You hit that?”

“Nah. We snuggled and watched anime. Anyway, what if it was Khaos? He saw me leave with her,” Tetsuo wondered.

“Nah,” said D3th. “Khaos is a little bitch. What anime did you watch?”

“Tokyo Death Duel. It was cool, but it’s an Edo ripoff,” Tetsuo complained.

“Edo?” Asked D3th.

“Yeah. Edo Death Machine. Where I got my DJ name from. ‘Tetsuo’.”

“I thought it was from Tetsuo the Iron Man,” said D3th.

“That movie is cool,” Tetsuo agreed. “But it’s not from that.” He shook his head. “What’s it called when your memories feel a little off—like small details feel wrong?”

“Dementia,” D3th chuckled. “You sure you’re feeling okay?”

“This car thing got me fucked up,” scowled Tetsuo.

“I mean like, since the vertigo.”

“Oh that? I’m fine.”

 Tetsuo thought back to the horrible attack of vertigo he suffered four weeks ago. He was riding the Ferris wheel at the Santa Monica Pier. Everything had been fine, until it wasn’t. His vision had been pierced by a white light, and then gravity went sideways. His stomach lurched, and his inner ear screamed in confusion. Somehow, Tetsuo had managed to called D3th, who got him home.

“I stay away from heights now. I’m good though.”

“What else did the doctor tell you?” Asked D3th.

“Stay off of stimulants.”

“Mhm.” D3th put his hand out expectantly. Chuckling, Tetsuo handed over the rest of his cocaine stash.

D3th pulled into the car rental place. A black Charger was in the lot out front. This could be fun, thought Tetsuo. I’ll see what Mila is doing and swing by in that.

After a brief inspection of the Charger, a dude named Darin led Tetsuo to the register. “It balances out to zero with the insurance. We just need a $120 deposit, that will be returned when we receive the car in the shape we gave it to you.” Darin pointed out the credit card slot.

Tetsuo inserted his debit card. The lights on the terminal blinked red.

“Okay…” Tetsuo swore there was a couple thousand in that account. He grabbed a credit card with an $8000 limit on it that he had just received a few weeks ago. It declined as well.

“I’m sorry,” said Darin. “We’re closing right now. If you can make it back in the morning, we’ll see what we can do for you.”

Tetsuo walked back out to D3th’s car, scowling.

“What’s up with the Charger?” D3th asked.

“Some bullshit.” Tetsuo jumped into D3th’s car and slammed the door. “Can you take me to the electronics store? I need cameras.”

About an hour later, Tetsuo and D3th headed back to Tetsuo’s with a wireless camera, a doorbell camera, and some lights.

“Thanks for the loan, man. I don’t know what’s up with my bank.”

“What’s going on with you? Is it a curse?” Asked D3th as they pulled up to Tetsuo’s building.

“I don’t go for the woo-woo stuff, but it feels like someone is out to get me.”

“You take care, man,” laughed D3th. “Don’t go pissing off any spirits.”

3

Tetsuo exited D3th’s car and headed to his door. As he walked up, he noticed his apartment building’s mailbox had been broken into. The doors had been pried open, and all of the mail for the building was missing. The sight didn’t help his bad mood.

Tetsuo went inside to compose himself. This could just be a bunch of weird coincidences. Tetsuo poured himself a vodka over ice. He swung it back, then went outside and installed a doorbell camera, and a camera with a spotlight over the side door. He activated the app and viewed his cameras.

As he reentered his apartment, Tetsuo was struck by a thought.

The Mandela Effect! Tetsuo remembered. That’s the memory thing. Like, some people think Mandela lived into the 21st century, but what really happened was that he died tragically in the 80s in a hunger strike.

Tetsuo sat down at his computer and looked up The Mandela Effect on Seenit. Before he could read any of the posts, however, he fell asleep face down on his desk.

Tetsuo was awoken by a new notification. It was the new security system. Two people in hoodies were stopped in front of his porch and talking. One was pointing as if he was checking out the camera. They walked off in opposite directions. Tetsuo ran outside. He glanced up and down the street, but saw no one.

His phone chimed. It was a text message from Mila. “Wyd?”

“Nothing,” he replied. “My car is a crime scene, lol. I’m stuck here.”

“Let’s get dinner. I’ll pick you up?”

“My bank is fucked right now too,” he said.

“I’ll get you this time. I’m craving sushi.”

Tetsuo wasn’t sure he wanted to leave with strange people creeping around his house. Still, the cameras were linked to his phone, so he could keep an eye on his door while he ate with Mila.

Mila arrived and picked him up out front. As he sat, he saw the group of teens from earlier, watching him.

Mila looked great. Under her black leather jacket she wore a classy black dress and heels. On the way to the sushi place, they passed the Santa Monica Pier. He stared at the Ferris wheel, reminded of his vertigo attack.

At the restaurant, Tetsuo and Mila ordered sake, and a variety of rolls.

“So what’s going on with you,” asked Mila. “Did you piss someone off?”

“I don’t know,” said Tetsuo. “It’s totally unreal. My bank cards aren’t working. And did I tell you that someone broke into my apartment building’s mailbox? The same night that my car got trashed.”

“Well, but that could just be dumb, random criminal shit,” pointed out Mila.

“I thought so too, but then why only my car? There’s more, too. I keep seeing people.”

As if on cue, Tetsuo’s phone pinged with an alert from his security app. Something had triggered the camera on the side of his unit.

“Look, it’s them!” Tetsuo held up his phone. On the screen, dark-clad figures in hoodies were standing at the edge of the camera’s view, looking furtively and gesturing at it.

“Well you came to the right person for this.” Mila frowned, watching the people on the screen. “I come from a long line of witches. Our family stories are pretty strange, but that means if you’re cursed, we can fix it.”

Tetsuo watched the figures outside his apartment. The security app had an icon shaped like a little bell. Tetsuo pressed it, setting off an alarm at his place, and watched the people on the screen scatter.

“You should stay at my place for a few days. I’ll take you to the club. Do you have your music?”

“Always,” said Tetsuo.

4

At Mila’s, they went on her computer and looked up the Mandela Effect on Seenit. Most of the comments were from people thinking the posters were crazy. The next largest group thought it was proof the universe was a simulation.

Mila raised her eyes from the Mandela Effect post she had been reading and turned to Tetsuo. “These are crazy. Did you know it’s called ‘The Mandela Effect’ because of Nelson Mandela?”

“Yeah, I know. Some people think he lived until the 2000s, but he actually died in prison.”

Mila looked at him, inscrutable.

Tetsuo tried to remember what D3th had mentioned.

“Hey Mila, look up something for me. ‘Gang stalking’.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m not sure.”

Mila pulled up a page. There was a whole community devoted to it; D3th had been right. Most of the posts were from outsiders, ridiculing the concept. A significant portion were from rationalists who thought it was organized harassment to make people move to or from certain neighborhoods. However, among those were also posts from true believers, sharing their perceived gang stalking experiences, and validating others’.

Post titles leapt out at him: “My entire neighborhood is plants, should I move?”, “HELP! My wife has been replaced!!!!!”, “Suspect my family are not my family anymore, what should I do?”

Tetsuo noted that the last group shared a lot of members with the Mandela Effect group. Tetsuo felt his headache returning. It would be so easy to just write off everything that had happened to him as bad luck. And yet—

Mila was watching him, an odd look on her face.

“Tetsuo.”

“Yeah?”

“When you said you didn’t remember that I dated Khaos, were you serious?”

“Yeah. I genuinely had no idea you guys were ever together.”

“I believe you.”

“You do?”

“Yeah. Because—” Mila paused. “Nelson Mandela didn’t die in prison. And because Tokyo Death Duel is an anime, but Edo Death Machine is not. I looked it up.” Mila looked embarrassed. “When it didn’t exist, I thought you had just come up with an excuse to hang out.” Mila typed something in and pressed enter. She had brought up a biography of Nelson Mandela. The words shined on the screen: Died December 5, 2013.

Tetsuo’s head was spinning. Mila was looking at him, concerned.

“Do you want a drink? Or maybe a bowl?”

“Uh, yeah. I wouldn’t mind both.”

Mila stood up and handed Tetsuo her bong. “Here, you pack this while I make us some drinks. Maybe you should try to do something about it. Like figure out a plan of action and try a few things. It couldn’t possibly hurt.”

“Okay,” said Tetsuo. “What are we talking about?”

“It seems like the universe is out to get you, right? Random people are compelled to harass you. Attack you.”

“Yes,” said Tetsuo. “It feels like random people hate me and my luck is terrible.”

“When was the last time things were okay?” She asked.

“A few weeks back. Before I had vertigo. This really weird attack happened when I was on the Ferris wheel.” Remembering the incident made Tetsuo’s stomach lurch. “I called D3th and he got me home.”

“What was it like when it happened?”

“I remember everything spinning, and a white flash.”

“Tetsuo” Mila was holding Tetsuo’s hands. “It’s like this universe is angry with you.”

“What am I supposed to do about that?” Asked Tetsuo.

“You have to ask the universe to accept you. And spend time with people that like you. You have a gig coming up this weekend, don’t you?”

“I do!”

“I’ll take you,” she said. “It’ll be good. That’s where the universe loves you. Then maybe one more thing.”

“What’s that?” He asked.

“I think you should go on the Ferris wheel again.”

“Anything but that.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll come with you.” She said. “It’s my idea, so now I’m invested.”

Tetsuo’s phone buzzed. “Oh no, that’s my camera again.” Two men in hoods and respiratory masks were on his porch, checking out his new camera.

“It’s never people you know watching you, is it?” Mila asked, “It’s people who don’t know you. A subconscious ‘othering’ that makes strangers team up against you. You need to be really careful.”

Tetsuo spent the night in Mila’s bed. She snugged against him, warm in black pajamas. Tetsuo felt safe, like she was hiding him from the world. Still, he couldn’t stay away from his phone. Tetsuo’s security app chimed. He saw a masked face in closeup, messing with the camera. The camera went black. Mila stirred. “What’s going on with your phone.?”

“I think someone got into my place.”

“Call the police,” she yawned. “Then let’s deal with it in the morning.”

“I could just go there.”

“That’s not smart,” she said. “You have no idea how many people are there. Just let the cops handle it.” Tetsuo had a hard time not doing anything. She was right, though. He’d be outnumbered. He was better off with Mila tonight. Her and D3th were his anchors right now.

The next day, Mila took Tetsuo to the police station to file a report. The cops were rude and took forever. The process took nearly four hours. Afterwards, they picked up fast food and went back to Mila’s.

“Did you see the pictures from inside?” Tetsuo asked Mila. “Those people really have it in for me.”

“I’m just hoping we’re on the right track,” she said, “It’s all I can come up with.”

“At least it’s something. I don’t have any ideas right now. Yours is fantastic.”

5

That weekend, Mila and Tetsuo headed to the club together for his show.

They circled the block, looking for parking. Tetsuo’s usual spot was taken, as well as the  parking structure.

“You’re going to be late,” she said. “I’m dropping you off at the front. I’ll meet you inside.”

“You’re gonna be okay out on the street?” It was a rough neighborhood.

“Kiev is worse,” she said. Mila opened her coat to reveal a stun gun under her armpit. “See you inside.”

Tetsuo bypassed the long line, and went up to the doorman, a walking refrigerator with no neck. No-neck stopped him with a giant hand,

“DJ Tetsuo,” he said, pointing at his name and picture on a poster behind the doorman. “See, right behind you.”

The doorman folded his arms and narrowed his eyes. “ID, please?” Asked No-neck.

“Yes!” Tetsuo handed over his license.

“This doesn’t say Tetsuo!” Said the doorman gruffly.

“That’s my stage name!”

“Aw you a smart motherfucker, huh?” The doorman shoved Tetsuo back. “Take this shit.” He threw Tetsuo’s license at his chest. Tetsuo squared himself and started walking back towards the doorman, but someone, Mila, had his arm.

“Not that way, this way.”

Mila led him around the block and into an alleyway and into a backstage area.

“I dance here a lot,” she smiled.

Tetsuo scanned the crowd. The doorman was inside with two other guards.

“I think they’re looking for me in here,” said Tetsuo.

The doorman swiveled around and spotted Tetsuo. Tetsuo shoved his way through the dance floor crowd, and climbed on the stage. Tetsuo made it to the turntables right as the last DJ’s set ended. He slotted his drive and started playing.

Mila cleared an area for herself in front of the stage by sweeping her whips wide. The colors were programmed to look like flames pouring from her hands.

Three songs later, Tetsuo owned the dance floor. Spinning on the decks had always filled him with a sense of belonging. He spotted No-neck at the edge of the pit. Without expression, No-neck granted Tetsuo a brief nod.

During his last track, Tetsuo left the turntables briefly to run to the lip of the stage. He reached out to Mila. She jumped as he yanked, and she was up on stage, kissing him. Photographers caught the moment, and the crowd cheered. He finished up his set, and Mila and Tetsuo left. He got a lot of pats on the back on the way out.

At Mila’s place, they tore off each other’s clothes and made love, basking in the energy of each other.

“I feel a lot better,” he smiled. They were in a tangle of her sheets.

“I should hope so,” she laughed. “I’m really great in the sack.”

“No. I mean yes. I just feel like…”

“You feel like you belong in this world, and it’s treating you better. You and I are building a bond. That bond anchors you here.”

“I think I feel that.”

“We have one more thing to do. We have a Ferris wheel to catch.” Mila kissed him, and they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

6

The next day, they parked Mila’s car on the fourth story of a Santa Monica parking structure, ready to walk the rest of the way to the pier. They vaped a bit before heading downstairs.

As they opened the door and transitioned from cave-like darkness to sunshine, a hand grabbed Tetsuo’s sleeve. Instinctively, Tetsuo, muttered “Sorry, I don’t have anything.”

A fist hit him across the jaw.

“It’s that motherfucker!” Shouted a nearby woman. Not transients, but a random mob of people were now swarming them.

Mila passed her stun gun to Tetsuo, and he realized she had pepper spray in her other hand. A skater dude lunged at Tetsuo, and she blasted him in the face. Tetsuo zapped a man in a football jersey. “Run!” She shouted, and they sprinted toward the beach.

Tetsuo and Mila stayed hyper-alert, but made it onto the pier unchallenged. Mila bought tickets while Tetsuo kept a lookout, and together they headed for the Ferris wheel.

As Mila and Tetsuo approached the basket, they saw a Black man sitting in the seat. Tetsuo was dumbfounded. After a moment, Tetsuo realized he was staring at himself.

“Thanks for getting me here, Mila,” said the other Tetsuo. “I got it now. Have a seat, Tetsuo.”

Mila’s mouth was wide open. She looked at them in shock.

“Thank you, Mila,” said Tetsuo, climbing into the seat with his doppelgänger. “It’s going to be fine.”

The Ferris wheel creaked into motion and raised up their seat, providing an excellent view of the sun over the Pacific Ocean.

“So this is your world, right? And not mine?”

“It was,” said Tetsuo 2. “I died here, though. It was my fault.”

“What happened?”

“I was using way too much cocaine. Gave myself a stroke. So honestly, I really don’t belong here.”

“So you can’t return to your life?” Asked Tetsuo.

“Nope, and I only have a little time for this.”

“Why am I here?”

“Isn’t it amazing? Every human everywhere asks that question, and you actually get an answer. You’re here because I called you. I was dying and I reached out for you to take my place.”

“But what about my world? I should probably return to my own universe.”

“Think back to the last time you got on the Ferris wheel. What happened?” Asked Tetsuo 7.

“I saw a white flash. Then I got sick.”

“What was happening in the world right then?”

“I remember. The Russians just finished off Ukraine, and rolled tanks on the Baltics. They used a tactical nuke in Finland.”

“Then what?” Asked Tetsuo 2.

“All hell broke loose. So I went to the Pier,”

“And when you were escaping reality on the Ferris wheel, an ICBM hit Los Angeles.” Tetsuo 2 said. “Your world is gone. But you are welcome to mine.”

 They sat in silence for awhile, looking out over the ocean.

“I have no idea what to say,” said Tetsuo. “You’re giving me your life.”

“I fucked mine up. Listen. Quit cocaine, it’ll ruin your career. Keep practicing and get us more shows.”

The Ferris wheel descended.

“And take care of Mila.” Said Tetsuo 2. “She’s great. Maybe I would have gone for it, but I suck at relationships. I think love might be the point, though.”

The seat lowered, and Tetsuo exited alone. He walked away with Mila, hand in hand.

* * * * THE END * * * *
Copyright tis Johnson and A. Sidrabene 2025