New Beginnings

Susan was one of the earliest readers of Eight Hurricane Maria Stories from Puerto Rico, so she gets a story! Susan is following a new direction in life, so she wanted her story to be about...

NEW BEGINNINGS

There is a man who knows the future. He is not a god – he just happens to possess the all-see'ums, a pair of goggles capable of viewing all to come.

So how do you steal the all-see'ums from that man when he knows what you're going to do before you do it?

That's the question that Susan must answer. A difficult question because she does not believe the future exists. For Susan, everything takes place in the present. This is Susan's story, so we must do our best to stay in the present.

She's a professional thief, so at least she has that going for her. But everything else about this job is all wrong. Art is her specialty, and she never fools around with so-called magical items if she can help it. Stealing stuff like the all-see'ums carries too many liabilities: curses, hexes, and maledictions to name a few.

Yeah, art is her specialty, but art is what gets Susan into this mess. Unbeknownst to Susan, the last stolen painting belongs to one Doña Chica.

Collecting art is a lucrative pastime for the mob. Laundered money and art get along just fine. The Doña wants her painting to go to auction and turn a few million into legitimate funds. When someone like Susan comes along, steals the painting, and hurts careful plans, the Doña is not pleased.

“You don't have our money or the painting? How about we murder you right now? You don't want to be murdered? How about you get those all-see'ums, wrap them up real nice, and deliver them to the Doña? We are watching.”

That is pretty much the extent of the conversation when the Doña's affiliates bribe and beat their way back to Susan. So, like it or not, Susan needs to trick a man who can see the future into parting with his most prized possession.

That man's name is Stanley Cooper, and he resides where most people who think they know how to play the future go. He resides in that improbable city called Las Vegas.

All Susan has is the present. She must try to imagine the future from Cooper's perspective.

How much of an imaginary future can that man see? Is he able to see only the events that directly affect him, or can he view anything, like the life and times of a chicken that's going to be born in Cambodia next February? Susan decides that Cooper can only see a limited future that involves him, since she doesn't have time to mess around with the infinite.

Here is Susan's final plan for retrieving the all-see'ums:

*She needs five Susans, including herself. The others are lookalikes: carefully trained, highly paid, and not risk-averse.

*Each Susan travels to Las Vegas via a different route.

*Each Susan crosses paths multiple times on the way to Vegas.

*Each Susan has a pair of magnetic jogging goggles, which resemble Cooper's all-see'um goggles.

*Each lookalike Susan puts on her lookalike goggles and gets Cooper's attention in her own way, one after the other on the same day.

*The real Susan grabs the real all-see'ums in the middle of this pandemonium.

If Cooper is watching the future that Susan has in store for him, he sees five identical women wearing what may be his all-see'ums. He sees five thieves running in five different directions at five different times to five different places. Susan likes her odds.

At the Nashville airport, Susan meets one of her lookalikes and passes her the ticket for a connecting flight to Las Vegas. The real Susan leaves the airport and has time to kill before her next move. She heads to Nudie's Honky Tonk, which is billed as the longest bar in Nashville.

The bar in Nudie's Honky Tonk is very long, and Susan is mildly impressed. She walks to the middle and plans to order a piña colada no rum, her favorite drink. Just as she gets the bartender's attention, a little man cuts in front of her, even though there is at least twenty feet of empty bar on either side. That man is shaped like a bowling pin. He wears a white polyester suit and an alabaster cowboy hat that is much too big.

“Two piña coladas no rum. On the double, or take your time. What will be, will be,” he says to the bartender then turns toward Susan. Two blue lenses glitter under the shade of his hat. “Hi Susan. I'm going to enjoy this conversation.”

Susan's plan is not going as planned. This man with the blue lenses, the all-see'ums wrapped around his face, is Stanley Cooper. She takes a seat at the longest bar in Nashville, and Cooper does the same. They sit in silence until the piña coladas arrive.

“So, aren't you going to ask me?” Cooper says.

“Ask you what?” Susan doesn't like it when a man who can supposedly see the future asks her a question.

“Is the future predetermined, or is it changeable? Do I see probabilities or timelines set in stone?”

“That's two questions, and it looks like you just asked them,” Susan says. She isn't going to play games with Cooper.

“Lighten up Susan. I see many more piña coladas in your future.” Cooper sips his and grimaces. “I knew I wasn't going to like that.”

“Listen, I don't want your all-see'ums. I'm coming after them because I don't have a choice.”

“It wasn't a bad plan, but I only saw four Susans running around Las Vegas. I'm looking forward to seeing it again, but I really wanted to meet the fifth one.”

“How do I know you're the real Stanley Cooper?” All this talk of lookalikes has Susan wondering.

“Hmmm... say anything you please. I'll say it with you. 3, 2, 1. Go.”

“Spliff-o-matic-pro-chromatic-autosomatic-take-no-static,” they say in unison.

“By the way, that connecting flight to Vegas that you skipped. That plane is going to crash in about 37 minutes.”

“Oh my God.”

“Sorry, the plane and your double will be fine... probably. Simply trying to lighten the conversation.”

“Cut the shit Cooper.”

“Don't curse, Susan. You're better than that.”

“I need you tell me what's going to happen.” Susan toys with the cherry in her drink. She tells herself that if the cherry sinks, either Cooper or Doña Chica is going to kill her. If the cherry floats, she is fine in the present. The future doesn't exist.

“A lot is going to happen. Too much. But you don't have to worry about that. To be honest, I thought about plucking your thread out of the tapestry of time. Only a little snip, and bye-bye Susan while the pattern continues, but then I thought about what you had to offer me.”

“Is this the part where you're going to tell me your evil plan?”

“Sure. Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to give you the all-see'ums.”

“Are you drunk? You give them to me, and I deliver them to Doña Chica? Just like that?”

“Keep up Susan. You don't want to deliver the all-see'ums to Doña Chica. You think she'll want someone around who will know she has them?”

“I don't want to keep them. I don't even believe in the future.” Susan notices that Nudie's Honky Tonk is starting to fill up with more people. How many of them are keeping eyes on her for Doña Chica?

“I know. That's why I'm giving them to you.”

“What's in it for you, Cooper?”

“Imagine knowing the time, place, and manner of your death. No, let's back it up a bit. Imagine knowing the day when your wife of 27 years will stop loving you. No, even smaller. Imagine knowing what you're going to have for lunch for the rest of your life. I don't even enjoy food anymore.”

“Then you can't change the future with your fancy goggles?”

“Not exactly. I think Tolstoy says it best in the second epilogue in War and Peace: 'Freedom is the thing examined. Inevitability is what examines. Freedom is the content. Inevitability is the form.'”

“I haven't read that one.”

“Me neither, but I've already seen that I am going to read it. But let's go back to the original question: is the future changeable?”

“You're saying it can be changed a little bit.”

“What I'm saying, Susan, is that I see a future where I may one day be surprised.”

“Great. You're going to unload the all-see'ums on me, and I get to deal with Doña Chica while you go on some philosophical quest.”

“How many pairs of eyes do you think Doña Chica has on you right now?” Cooper glances at the country music band setting up on stage. “Oh my, you think that gee-tar player over yonder is working for her? Picture this – there are four Susan lookalikes flying all across the country right now. I'd say those eyes are spread pretty thin. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that there's just one pair of eyes waiting outside in a black SUV. When the band begins to play, that one watcher will receive an upsetting phone call from his mistress.”

Before Susan can reply, Cooper unclips the all-see'ums and tosses them on the bar in front of her drink. He takes off his alabaster cowboy hat and places it over the goggles. Cooper's eyes are naked and glistening. He looks like the sort of guy who would be happy to trade home improvement tips with you at the hardware store.

“Thanks Susan. Remember when the band starts to play that's your cue.” Cooper takes off into the crowd, his bald white pin head vanishing behind denim-clad shoulders.

When the honky tonk band opens up, the dance floor is packed. A line dance, with heavy boot heels clicking and clacking against the hardwood floor, takes shape.

Susan's plan is less complicated this time. She takes the all-see'ums out and tosses them ever so smoothly onto that dance floor amid the stomping heels.

Click. Clash. Clack. Crack. No more future.

She puts on Cooper's hat and pulls the brim down low. On the way out of Nudie's Honky Tonk she grabs a jacket from a bar stool. There's a black SUV with out-of-state plates in the parking lot. The driver is having a heated discussion on his cell phone and doesn't once look her way.

No one follows her.

Susan isn't going to say that she all of sudden believes in the future. But just in that moment walking down Nashville's streets with her new cowboy hat and jacket, she is also somehow on a beach making a painting instead of stealing it. And of course, there is a piña colada with no rum close at hand.