At his college reunion, a man looks back at his life, and has many regrets. When he meets an old love, he finds they both feel regrets. Perhaps Madam Zelda, at the local county fair, has a way to help them?
A little change from Bikini Beach for a bit...

**********

This story is copyright by the authors. It is protected by licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

For perhaps the hundredth time that day, Mark Olsen asked himself what he was doing. Why was he doing at this stupid reunion? Surely, he had better things to do. And he realized, also for the hundredth time, that he really didn’t. Not since the divorce, anyway. A heavy sigh punctuated his gloomy thoughts. Where had it all gone wrong? In college, things had seemed so bright, so promising. He’d gotten good grades, he’d landed a decent job, and he’d met his future wife. Everything had clicked into place. But recently, it had come crashing down like the proverbial house of cards. So, what was he doing at the class reunion? Mark knew that all his old buddies would be there — with their executive titles, or their own companies, and their wives and families. All reminding him of his failures.

Inwardly, Mark knew he wasn’t really a failure. After all, he’d gotten his PhD, and was senior research scientist for a very reputable computer company. Why had he come? Really? He glanced around the student union building. It seemed so different. Sure, it was the same building, but it was still different. Different paint scheme. Different furniture. And the kids! Damn, but the kids looked so young. Mark suddenly felt ancient, much older than his forty-two years. What was he looking for, to be revisiting these hallowed halls?

“Mark?” The voice was soft, and delightfully surprised.

Mark turned, wondering who had recognized him. Instantly, his anxiety melted. “Carol,” he said with certainty, knowing the woman who’d called him.

Carol ran up and wrapped her arms around him. “Oh, it’s so good to see you!” she exclaimed, sounding almost relieved.

Mark held her embrace for a long moment, and then stepped back from her. He gazed at Carol, taking her in. “You’ve hardly changed,” he said appreciatively. Indeed, he thought the years had been very kind to her. Though her hair was shorter, she was still easily recognizable as the same girl Mark had known all those years ago. And still attractive.

“How long has it been?” she asked, still holding Mark’s hand. He glanced down, feeling a bit awkward, and she noticed. “Oh, sorry,” she apologized quickly as she dropped his hand. “Where’s Renee?”

Mark closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “It didn’t work out,” he finally said, trying to mask the intense pain of those memories. He turned toward the registration table, and quickly picked up his information packet and name tag, then he turned back toward Carol. “Look, I had a long flight and I’m a bit hungry. How about if we sit down for a bite?”

Sure, it was the school cafeteria, but it was another link with the past, and Mark was glad to have that link. It was a lifeline, a speck of sanity in his world gone mad. “So,” he said between bites, “tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Carol looked at him, her eyes twinkling with the same spark Mark had noticed all those years ago. For a moment, it felt as if nothing had changed. Carol smiled. “Nothing exciting,” she said softly. “I’ve just been kind of bouncing from one career to another, trying to find out what I really want to do with my life.” She got a far-off look in her eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe I just never found the right person to settle me down.”

Mark choked on his sandwich, practically tasting all his bitter regrets. “I think I know what you mean.”

Carol shook her head. “Maybe. Maybe not. I mean, you had Renee. You were all settled. Last I heard, you were doing quite well.” She saw the pain in Mark’s eyes at the mention of his ex-wife. “What happened?”

Mark sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I was getting desperate when I met Renee. Except for that other girl — Kelly something-or-other — I’d never had a girlfriend. I guess Renee and I kind of rushed into things.” He took a sip of coffee.

Carol pried. “But you two seemed to be doing so well. Every time our paths crossed, you seemed to be happy.” She seemed genuinely confused.

Mark snorted. “We put on a good act. Even while I was here, working on my master’s, we had our problems. I guess we just didn’t want anyone to know.” He took another long sip. “After I got my doctorate, our differences got too big. We kind of drifted apart.” He let his gaze drift down. “I guess she wanted more. She said she sacrificed so much while I did my graduate work. She expected a better lifestyle.” He let his eyes shut for a moment; in his mind, he could still picture his ex-wife. She’d been everything to Mark. And then she left him. “She wanted a bigger house, a fancier car, a maid. You know, things.” Mark shook his head. “Things that weren’t important to me.”

He felt Carol’s hand touch his. “I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes wide with sympathy for his pain.

“So what about you?” Mark asked, changing the subject abruptly to escape the painful reminders. “Why didn’t you settle down?”

Carol suppressed a shudder. “I kept getting into messy relationships,” she said softly. Her own pain was evident in her words. “One guy I was dating was sleeping around. One guy …” her voice choked off, “I thought I loved him, and that he loved me. But he was manipulating me. And then he got abusive.” She bit her lip as a tear trickled out of her eye.

It was Mark’s turn to apologize. “I’m so sorry, Carol,” he said softly, holding her hand. “I didn’t know.”

Carol wiped away the tear. “Neither did I. I had to learn the hard way.” She stared at the floor for a long awkward moment, then looked up at Mark. “I wish I’d met someone like you,” she said softly.

Mark felt his heart nearly stop, so impossible did the words sound. “I’ve got a confession to make,” he finally said, his voice trembling with uncertainty. He paused, trying to muster up the courage to continue, wondering if Carol was going to stop this train of conversation. But Carol was looking into his eyes, waiting. “A long, long time ago, you stole a piece of my heart. And I think I’ve loved you ever since.”

Carol’s eyes misted, and she grasped Mark’s hand tighter. “Oh, Mark! Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Mark looked back at the table. “At first, I was afraid. And then I never got a chance. You or I were always dating someone after that.”

Carol wiped away another tear. “Is it too late for a couple of fools like us?” She shook her head sadly. “Why did we wait so long? Oh I wish we could go back and do it again, so we wouldn’t have to waste our lives like we did.”

**********

The county fair was the same one that had been held for decades. The same fair that Mark and Carol had gone to his senior year, and her freshman year, only then they had been dating other people. Now, they wandered around the fairgrounds, riding some of the rides, trying the games, and, just like at the dance the night before, acting like two kids on their first date.

As they passed the rows of tents and booths, Mark suddenly got a strange feeling, like he was being watched. He glanced around nervously, and felt his gaze drift toward a brightly-decorated tent with a colorful sign. Your Destiny, Your Fortune, Your Fates! Madam Zelda Knows All! He glanced beside him, and saw that Carol was gazing at the tent, too.

“Let’s go in,” she finally said, as if drawn by some power.

“Nah,” Mark countered quickly, “I don’t believe in that stuff.” With Carol on his arm, he turned to leave.

“And why should you, Mark Olsen?”

Mark spun, startled at the cackling voice that had called him by name. At the entrance to the tent, gazing directly at him stood an old gypsy woman. The woman who’d answered him in a voice fairly dripping with an eastern-European accent. She hadn’t been there one impossible second ago. “How do you…?”

With a swirl of her skirts, she stood toe-to-toe with Mark, staring up into his eyes, her gypsy accent . “Your logic and science have left no room for the mystical!”

Mark glanced nervously at Carol. Something about this old woman was raising goosebumps. “How do you know my name?” he asked in a hushed voice.

The gypsy woman smiled. “Madam Zelda knows all,” she answered with a toothy grin, showing off the gold capped tooth. “Come. Let me tell your fortune. Learn your fate.” With a swirl of her long red skirt and jangling of her excessive jewelry, she vanished into the tent as if she already knew that Mark and Carol would be following her.

Mark glanced at Carol again, and saw that she, too, seemed uneasy. But she took a deep breath and pulled Mark toward the open tent flap.

Madam Zelda held Mark’s upturned hand, staring intently at his palm. “Madam Zelda sees regrets. Pain. Things that didn’t work.” She glanced up at Mark. “And a long-held love that you never confessed.”

Carol gasped, feeling the shiver in her spine. Mark had just confessed his love the day before.

Madam Zelda turned to Carol. “And you.” She grasped Carol’s hand before Carol could react. “Madam Zelda sees you, also, had pain and regret, relationships that didn’t work.” Madam Zelda let go of Carol’s hand. “You both have a wondering, a curiosity about why you never met.”

Mark glanced at Carol, then nodded. “I wish — we both wish — we could go back and try to get things right.”

Madam Zelda narrowed her eyes. “Madam Zelda heard your wish,” she said in a tone that sounded ominous. “But be warned that you can never truly go back.”

Carol glanced at Mark. “You mean you can help us?”

Madam Zelda smiled, exposing her gold-capped tooth. “You can never go back. For you would only repeat the mistakes you made on this path of fate.”

Mark sighed. For a brief second, he had hopes of maybe going back to try again, maybe to meet and marry Carol. “I knew it was too much to ask for,” he said.

Madam Zelda smiled curiously. “But you can start on a different path.”

Mark wrinkled up his nose. “I don’t understand…”

Madam Zelda grinned, then pulled a crystal ball from beside her, and set it on the table. “Gaze into the ball. Stare into the past, into your mistakes. Concentrate on starting a different path. Think about looking at your past from a new perspective.”

Mark felt her words sinking into him, dazing him hypnotically as he stared into the ball. It swirled with images, snippets of his senior year in college, of when he’d first met Carol. He sank deeper and deeper into the images of Carol, his surroundings fading into the background…

************

Carol’s eyes snapped open, and she sat up with a start. What a dream! She’d been at a class reunion, years in the future, talking with an old friend.

She glanced around, trying to shake off the feeling of confusion. The room — it was a dorm room. College dormitory? Her mind worked quickly, and she realized it was her room. The beds, the desks, the closets — they seemed both familiar and so alien. Even though the room was familiar, something didn’t feel right. Like she was the one out of place.

The door opened, and a girl in a robe came in. Carol spun, and recognized Lisa. But Lisa was — is — Carol’s roommate. Carol felt a stab of confusion. Why had that thought been in the past tense? She felt like she’d observed that ages ago.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Lisa sang out, “it’s about time you got up. Calc starts in twenty minutes.”

Carol shook her head, still feeling confused. Calc. Calculus. She was enrolled in calculus. But she’d taken that ages ago. And then taught it while she did the classwork for her Master’s degree. Her head spun. This was strange - if she was rooming with Lisa in the dorm, she was a freshman, and couldn’t possibly have a Master’s degree! “I don’t feel too good,” Carol finally said to Lisa.

Lisa smiled. “No kidding! I told you to take it easy last night.”

“Last night…” Carol said blankly, struggling to remember something.

Lisa frowned. “The Delta party, remember?” She looked at Carol. “You don’t remember, do you.” Lisa shook her head. “It’s a good thing that John is such a gentleman, bringing you home and all.”

Carol’s head spun. John. She fought against surprisingly cloudy memories for a long few seconds. John. John who? Her mind struggled to sort out the hazy memories. John Miller. Why did that name sound familiar? As if the memories were ages old, they came together as thin wisps, forming foggy outlines. ‘John Miller. He dated Carol while I was a senior and she was a freshman. That’s why I never asked her out.’ Asked herself out? What was this? She shook her head again, puzzled at the memories. It felt like she was recalling her life — from someone else’s perspective … in the future! The memories were so confusing. How could she possibly have them? Where had they come from? And had she ever felt them before? Carol felt a chill, as if her spine were suddenly transformed to ice. She couldn’t remember. Her past, her friends, her family — it was all gone! Like it had never existed! Carol fought the rising tide of panic, trying to control herself. Was she going mad? What did it mean? But slowly, as she fought back the terror, she sensed something — faint and far-off, like a ghostly image, but they were there. Memories. Hers? She wasn’t sure if they were her memories or not.

As she tried to figure out what was going on, she saw Lisa slide off the robe to dress. Carol stared, feeling like there was something wrong. Like this was … arousing her? Like she had always wanted to have sex with Lisa? But that thought was absurd! Some ghostly memory told her that she and Lisa had been friends since high school, and Lisa was not a lesbian! So why was Carol having those thoughts? Was she a lesbian?

She shook her head again, then began to fumble around, not really sure where her clothes and toiletries were.

**********

“Hey, Carol,” Lisa called. Carol spun, and saw Lisa rushing to catch her. “What’s up? You left class like there was a fire or something.” Lisa slid into step beside Carol.

“I don’t know,” Carol said noncommittally. “I just don’t feel right.”

Lisa shook her head. “Next party, try to take it easy.” She lowered her voice. “I heard that Amber got a little too drunk at the last double-Theta party, and got screwed pretty good.”

Carol smiled. “Yeah, those guys have quite a reputation for partying. You know, I almost…” She stopped, suddenly frowning. For a brief moment, she’d had the absurd memory of almost joining the double Theta fraternity. But that was impossible! She was a girl — she couldn’t join a fraternity! Where did that strange thought come from?

Lisa nodded, thinking she understood what Carol had intended. “Yeah, I almost went to their first party this semester.” She shuddered. “It’s scary to think how close we might have come to …” She couldn’t finish the thought. Date rape — or worse. “Say, are you going to the Student Activities Board meeting tonight?”

Carol smiled. “Of course.” And then she saw another ghostly memory — as if she were looking at herself through someone else’s eyes. Like she was seeing herself at the SAB meeting that she hadn’t gone to yet. And feeling something. Desire? No, that wasn’t it. No, it was more like … love. Love at first sight? Carol felt a chill — what were these strange memories? Whose were they? And why was she feeling them?

**********

John was everything that Carol remembered. Which itself was a strange feeling! As she and Lisa came into the room, John immediately came over to greet her. Something inside her told Carol that John was making a big show — demonstrating to the other guys that Carol was his, and that she’d seen this scene before, from another set of eyes, and felt — jealous? As John went through his male territorial ritual, Carol felt somehow violated, cheapened, like she was being treated as a possession, and she didn’t return his quick kiss. One of the girls looked enviously at her, as if she’d gotten the blue ribbon. So why didn’t she feel that way? Because John was a phony who kept a girlfriend only as long as she helped his image? That John had acted like that since his freshman year? Still another one of the strange memories. How could she possibly know that? Especially when she found a fainter memory that said she’d only been going with John for a couple of weeks, and since John was a junior and she was only a freshman.

After volunteering to help at the western dance, Carol stayed around to socialize and to meet the SAB members. For some reason, she knew it was very important to be invited to join, but she couldn’t figure out why. And haunted by the earlier memory of someone almost fawning over her, she studied the faces of every guy carefully as she met them, looking for some clue, however tiny, of that earlier vision. But she was disappointed. Did she miss something in one of the guys who’d left already?

“Ready to go?”

Carol started, then spun and saw John, smiling pleasantly at her. “Uh, yeah.” Inside, she struggled to find the memories — where was she supposed to go with John? What had she agreed to do?

John opened the car door for her. “I really think everyone was impressed. I think you’ve got a good chance to get invited.”

Carol smiled. “Well, I was just being myself.”

John gave Carol no clues as they drove. It was only as they approached Skyline Drive that Carol got her first inkling of what was on John’s mind. Of what she had apparently agreed to. He parked the car in a secluded area, then slid closer to her. She flinched as his hand reached out and cupped her breast even as he leaned into kissing her.

Carol found herself surprised. For some reason, having John touch her and kiss her seemed so — wrong! Like it was queer? How could that be? She was a girl, and he was a guy. It should be normal. Unless she was a lesbian? But no, she wasn’t. Was she? John was acting like they’d done this before. Why didn’t she have any memories of it? And if they’d done it before, how could she be a lesbian?

At the same time, his careful caresses were stimulating and very sensuous. With his kissing, Carol found herself becoming aroused. And even that was a strange sensation! She found a warmth spreading from her crotch, meeting and merging with the pleasant sensation radiating from his ministrations to her breast. It was so — pleasant. Even if it seemed totally foreign to her, like she’d never experienced it before. And as she puzzled over the sensations, she saw a faint memory of curiosity — of watching girls and wondering about what sex was like for them.

John’s hand grasped her hand, and led it slowly down to his crotch, to his open fly and exposed penis.

Carol knew what he wanted, what he expected. Sex. With rising horror, Carol saw him open his pants and expose himself, his firm manhood rising upward as if begging for attention. And suddenly, from the way he was looking at her, Carol realized that he expected oral sex. She fought the rising bile — how could he possibly expect her to do that? From the way John was acting, it was clearly that she’d done it before. But now, it seemed so wrong. So demanding. Like she was being used as a sex toy. And some of the strange thoughts told her, in no uncertain terms, that it was gay! A girl giving a guy a blowjob — gay? She puzzled over the conflict between fact and memory.

“Uh, I’ve got, uh,” she stammered, struggling to find an excuse — any excuse — to get her out of this, “uh…” Her mind raced. “Uh, I’ve got a cold sore, I think. Or something like one,” she finally said, immediately wincing inwardly at how lame the excuse sounded. “Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.” She hoped it didn’t sound as lame an excuse to John as it sounded to her.

She expected some type of reaction from John. After all, he was a predator, even if disguised. Or so one of her strange memories told her. She felt confused, like she was in way over her head. Was this going to be date rape? Was he going to force himself on her? A college girl should know how to handle this situation, right? So why didn’t she know? Why did this seem like the very first time she’d been in this type of situation? Why did it seem that she was totally inexperienced, when John’s actions fairly screamed that she wasn’t? Why couldn’t she remember?

And at the same time, she felt the overwhelming warmth and wetness in her crotch, and knew that she was horny. She wanted sex. She needed to be satisfied herself. “Can we just, you know?” she finally said. Even as she said it, she knew that part of her was excited and eager, while another, almost alien, part was frightened of the prospect. And what was more, part of her was intensely curious to know what sex was like. As if she’d never experienced sex before. Or at least, not as a woman.

John’s grin told her the answer. His hand slipped to her crotch, and she gasped as his fingers worked past her shorts into her panties. The warm tingling of before exploded with an intensity that took her breath away. And the alien part of her knew that it was too late. It retreated, leaving her wondering what sex was going to be like, eager to experience the full joys of womanhood.

**********

Lisa awoke to the sound of soft crying from Carol’s bed. In the dim light, Lisa padded across the room and sat beside her roommate. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

Carol lay curled up, almost fetal. “I don’t know,” she finally sobbed.

Lisa bit her lip. She’d noticed that Carol had been acting strange lately. “Is it John? Did he … do something?”

“No.” Carol sniffled. “He didn’t do anything that I didn’t let him.”
She sat up slowly, leaning against the wall. “But there’s something wrong.” Carol shook her head. “I can’t explain it, but I know there’s something wrong. John is going to hurt me, and badly.”

“But you’ve only been dating him for a few weeks? How could you know that?”

Carol shook her head again, fighting back tears. “I don’t know! I keep seeing things. Visions, memories, images.” She turned to Lisa. “But they’re not mine! It’s like I’m seeing the future, and through someone else’s eyes. And they say that John is going to hurt me!” She leaned against Lisa and began to cry anew. “I’m scared!”

Lisa held Carol for a long time. Finally she spoke. “So, are you going to break up with John?”

Carol shook her head. “I don’t know. I mean, he’s nice and everything. Isn’t he?” Inside, she already knew the answer.

**********

Lisa and Carol were eating their lunch in the cafeteria when John came up, carrying a tray of food. Carol thought that was unusual — John didn’t live on campus, and should be eating at his fraternity. “Can I join you?” he asked sweetly.

Carol felt indecisive. She knew, somehow, that she had to break up with John before she got hurt. But how?

Lisa, on the other hand, was quick to answer. “Of course.” And as John sat down, Lisa winked at Carol then suddenly rose. “Look at the time! I’ve got a paper to finish for English.” She grabbed her tray and hastened away, her food not even half-eaten.

“You know the vote on new members is tonight,” John said in needless conversation. Of course Carol knew that the SAB was voting in new members.

Carol forced a smile. “I’m hoping I’ll be accepted.” She felt a sudden fear — a fear of not being accepted, of missing something critically important. She had to get on the SAB. She didn’t understand, but she did feel an overwhelming need to be a member of the SAB.

She flinched as John grasped her knee playfully. “Of course you’ll be accepted,” he said confidently. And he should know — he was president, and most members did whatever he wanted.

Carol took a couple of bites, wondering what she should say, whether she should say anything. “Um,” she finally began, “do you think we might be going too fast?”

John looked puzzled. “I’m not sure I follow.”

Carol grimaced. This was going to be tough — and she didn’t have any clue how to proceed. But a girl should know, right? “I mean,” she bit her lip, trying to stall, desperately trying to find the words she needed, “what if I transfer? Or I flunk out? And you’ll graduate years ahead of me.” She sounded desperate, and she knew it. “I mean, it’s not really fair to either of us to get too involved yet, is it?”

John stared at Carol for a second, then his eyes lit up and he grinned. “I knew it was a bad idea to take you to ‘Tess’. Look, we both agreed we weren’t going to get too serious, right?” He grasped her hand lightly. “We’ll decide before we go further, right?” He’d already dismissed her sudden strange mood as an aftereffect of the movie. “Let’s just be close and have fun, like we agreed.” John spied one of his fraternity brothers across the dining hall. “I’ve got to talk to one of the guys.” He stood slowly, bent over, and kissed Carol on the cheek. “I’ll see you at the meeting, and then we can celebrate your SAB membership at the Delta party tonight, okay?” Like that, he was gone, leaving Carol wondering how she was going to break up, and suddenly feeling very fortunate that she hadn’t made a mess of things yet. She shuddered as she realized that if she’d broken up with John, she might not get on the SAB, and then she’d miss that important opportunity she felt was coming.

As she walked across the campus, toward her chemistry class, Carol suddenly heard a voice shouting, and her ears perked up. She knew instantly what it was — one of the seniors was harassing some poor freshman. That was all too common during the pre-homecoming weeks. She smiled to herself as she remembered being one of the most vocal seniors…and then she froze. She was a freshman. She couldn’t have any memories of harassing freshman.

As Carol stumbled onward, trying to resolve the strange feelings, she froze again. The voice — the senior doing the yelling. It seemed so — familiar? Of course, this was a small school, and she knew most of the seniors, at least by sight. It shouldn’t have been unusual for her to recognize a voice. But this was somehow different. As the chill ran up her spine, Carol forced herself to continue her trek to the chemistry building.

************

The waiting was pure torture. Behind the closed doors, the Student Activity Board was deciding who would join their elite ranks. Carol sat with Lisa and a few other candidates, anxiously waiting for news. Most prospective members weren’t here, though. Maybe they feared disappointment. Maybe they had studying to do.

The door opened, and John peeked out. He smiled and gestured for the candidates to come in. Nervously, they walked into the meeting room, glancing among themselves and the members, seeking a clue about their fate.

John walked to the head of the table, smiling. “Congratulations. You’re members of the board.”

Suddenly Carol knew. The wait — was part of the test. Anyone who would risk rejection was showing that they really wanted to be on the board. A memory surfaced — one of waiting for a second try, working with the board, volunteering at the events, until finally the board was satisfied. And then the board revealed that membership application was really a formality — anyone who volunteered and waited outside the membership meeting was in. Carol frowned. This was her first try. Where had that memory come from? Like all the others…

The meeting ended quickly, and Carol found herself being introduced to all the members. She knew — with every fiber of her being — that there was someone here who was going to be important to her.

Then she met Mark. As she smiled up at the six and a half foot man, Carol was immediately struck by the contradictions in him. Mark Olsen carried his size with a practiced ease, but he seemed to be holding back some tension. His mouth curled up in a natural smile, but his eyes betrayed an inner sadness. If life were a play, Carol thought Mark belonged as a heroically tragic figure. And then she caught herself. She’d only talked to him for a few seconds. How could she have had such a strong empathetic feeling?

Carol shuddered as she felt John’s fingers on her arm. She turned briefly away from Mark. “Ready?” John asked with a smile. But Carol saw something more — a barely veiled threat to Mark that Carol was his.

Carol nodded, and then turned back to Mark. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

**********

The small, obscure notice almost escaped Carol’s attention, but for some reason, she knew she had to find something on this particular bulletin board. She didn't know what, but she knew there was something. Finally, she saw the tiny notice. Tryouts for the fall play. Was that it? Was that the activity that she knew she had to be a part of? She shook her head, angry and confused. The memories were not getting any clearer; if anything, they seemed even more muddled. And some of them were very vivid and striking, almost overwhelmingly so. Like the memory that there was something about this particular notice.

She started to back away from the bulletin board, and bumped into someone. Carol turned, embarrassed, and saw a tall figure, wearing a senior cap. He was looking down at her, his face still that peculiar mask. “Oh, I’m sorry. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

Mark smiled at Carol. This was the first time he’d seen her without John clinging to her. “That’s okay. I guess I did crowd you a little.” The sadness was there, like it was a permanent part of him. “Are you trying out for the play?”

Carol felt her pulse race. The play. The Odd Couple? She had the part of Murray the Cop, and that’s where she met … She frowned. Another one of those strange memories. She couldn’t be Murray. She was a girl. Then there was another flash. Kelly. Kelly … what was her last name? A girl in search of a husband. If it hadn’t been for … for who? … then Kelly might have trapped her. Carol frowned. This whole thing made no sense! Kelly was looking for a husband, supposedly! But she was a girl! She couldn’t be trapped by Kelly!

Suddenly, a piece clicked into place. Somehow, she was reading someone else’s mind! And that someone had been part of this play. So that’s why it was so important for her to be here! Was she the catalyst that kept Kelly from trapping whoever it was?

“Uh, yeah,” Carol stammered. “I thought I’d give it a try.”

Mark smiled. “Maybe we’ll both get parts.”

Carol noticed something in Mark’s eyes at that moment. A dawning recognition? Whatever it was, the veil of sadness was momentarily lifted. Then his eyes twinkled. “And you forgot to wear your beanie, Frosh!” The voice was so familiar — the same one she’d heard shouting across the campus. Only this time, it carried a warmth that lacked the other times she’d heard it.

**********

All the prospective members of cast sat assembled, waiting for news about who had gotten parts. She glanced across the room, and saw Mark sitting silently, in a self-imposed solitude. She waved, and saw him give her a quick smile. But she saw the smile fade quickly, at the same time she felt John clasp her hand tightly - like he owned her. She felt a flash of anger at the way John was treating her like property. And at the same time, she had an image of watching another girl, devoted to a guy who treated her badly, yet clinging to him, and feeling broken-hearted.

Carol got a part — one of the two English Pigeon sisters. It was a small part, but it was a part. She got a quick congratulatory hug from John. Then she listened to the male parts, glancing from time to time at Mark. He seemed disappointed when he didn’t get the part of Felix. He got — Murray the cop!

After the cast got their books from the director, and the rehearsal schedule, they milled about for a bit, introducing each other (although, at such a small school, that was mostly unnecessary). And she saw a girl who hadn’t gotten a part, but who had volunteered for stage crew. Carol’s eyes narrowed when she saw the girl looking at Mark. Within minutes, she had introduced herself, and stood beside him, hanging on Mark’s every word.

Kelly. Carol was sure of it. The girl was named Kelly. And she was husband-hunting. As she stared, she saw a brief image of Kelly, husband in hand and carrying a baby. Kelly was being introduced to … to whom? A wife? And Kelly was introducing her husband? Her smile barely concealed a seething anger. Like she’d been deprived of a prize, and had to settle for second-best.

Carol fought the image. Something was wrong here. Kelly was going to hurt Mark, of that she was certain. How she knew was beyond her ken, though. And Carol had to stop it — somehow or other.

She felt John tug at her elbow. “Time to get to the party,” he said pleasantly, but Carol saw something in his eyes, too. Delight? No, that wasn’t quite right. Malicious pleasure. Yes, that was it, she decided. He was pleased that Kelly had latched onto Mark! Kelly had just eliminated John’s competition!

**********

Carol rolled over, her arm outstretched, her fingers fumbling to find the annoying alarm clock. She finally heaved herself out of bed. Lisa was already awake, and nearly ready for class.

“You’re going to be late,” Lisa said cheerfully.

Carol sighed. “Damned early classes.”

Lisa shook her head. “You used to be an early riser. Until you started going out with John, that is.” Lisa plopped on her bed. “Were you out with John again last night?”

Carol felt herself blush. Why was it that thinking about sex made her blush so? Was that normal? “Yeah,” she muttered.

Lisa bit her lip. “Are you trying to, you know, trap him?”

Carol looked up sharply. “What do you mean?”

Lisa gazed at her long-time friend. “Are you trying to, um, get pregnant to trap John?”

Carol frowned. “No. Why?”

Lisa bit her lip again. “Because you didn’t refill your prescription. And you’ve been having lots of sex lately.”

The words hit Carol like a hammer. Prescription. Pill. Birth control pill. Carol struggled to remember when she’d last taken one. It was …. With a surge of panic, Carol realized she couldn’t remember. When did she last take one? Was it too late? Was she subconsciously trying to get pregnant? How could she have forgotten? But there it was, sitting on her desk, plain as day. An empty pill container. First thing… no, Calculus first. Okay, second thing, Carol would run to the drugstore and refill it. Then — a morning after dose?

Carol was visibly shaking by the time she took the pills. What was wrong with her? How could she have forgotten something so basic? And was it too late? She flopped heavily onto her bed, wondering why things seemed so out of place.

**********

Carol was trying to study her chemistry, when she heard the noise. It started low, like a far-off clatter, and steadily grew louder. Banging. Shouting. Carol smiled as she remembered going through the dorms, banging on trash can lids, waking the freshman, and herding them up behind the gym for a ‘beanie raid’. The booze, the very raucous songs, the …. A loud banging on her door interrupted the foggy memory. And she started to frown. How could she remember that? That was what the seniors did! And she was just a freshman. The memory was impossible.

Carol slammed a mental door on the intrusive thought, the same as she slammed her chemistry book shut. “Beanie raid,” she announced matter-of-factly to Lisa as she reached across her desk for her beanie.

Lisa, too, understood the racket. They had, after all, been to the four preceding beanie raids.

With the assembled group of freshmen, distinguished by the red beanies on their heads, Lisa and Carol walked eagerly up toward the gym. And suddenly, Carol staggered, her mouth open with shock at the images playing through her mind. A fist coming out of the darkness, a crunching impact, the ground spinning and rushing upward, pain from both the blow and landing on the rough gravel. Blood. Blood everywhere. And … herself? Her own face, seen through a mask of blood and pain?

Carol felt Lisa clutching her arm, and she fought through the vision, the disorientation, the confusion. “Are you okay?” Lisa asked again.

Carol swallowed hard. “Yeah, sure,” she answered half-heartedly, not sure if she was trying to convince Lisa or herself.

The beanie raid started like all others. The seniors, proudly displaying their blue senior hardhats, surrounded the vastly more numerous freshman, and started a chorus of the school song. And then the fun began. In groups of two and three, the seniors mixed with the crowd. To every freshman who politely tipped the beanie and said ‘good evening, sir’ or ‘good evening, maam’, the senior would smile and offer the freshman a drink from the jug they inevitably carried.

Carol started to get a bit nervous. She had a chemistry test the next morning. And she knew that the jugs contained ‘freshman killer’, a euphemism for whatever was left in the liquor cabinet. Most of it was drinkable — barely. Some of it was undiluted. And for the guys, it was a way to hopefully get a girl drunk, leading to an evening of fun and games of the sexual type. Except for … The brief image vanished. Carol knew she couldn’t get drunk, or the test the next day would be tough, if not impossible.

Carol felt a tug on her arm, and felt her heart leap into her throat. While it wasn’t common, sometimes a senior would get drunk and lose control. She spun, and felt a wave of relief when she saw John. Before Carol could react, John wrapped his arm around her and gave her a big kiss. For a brief moment, Carol felt bile rising in her stomach — kissing John was wrong. He was a guy! But the feeling passed.

One thing that was absolutely certain, however, was that John was drunk. Reeking breath, staggering, slurring his words, obnoxious, falling-down drunk. Carol winced as he passed his half-empty jug to her. She feigned a smile, then pretended to take a sip.

For quite a long time, John hung all over Carol, as if displaying a trophy to the other seniors, and particularly to his fraternity brothers. And among the group, Carol found herself under increasing pressure to drink more of the noxious mix.

Out of the inky night, Carol received a sudden sense that she should talk to Mark. Making a quick excuse, she slid free of John’s constricting arm, leaving him hanging from two of his frat brothers. Turning, she was surprised to see Mark. As if he’d been nearby, waiting to talk to her. She fought the butterflies and walked up to Mark. “Good evening, sir,” she said politely.

Mark smiled at her, and Carol felt suddenly less threatened by the beanie raid, although she had no idea why. “Good evening, frosh,” Mark replied with a pleasant smile. He lifted his jug for her to pour herself a drink.

Carol smiled, and shook her head. “No thank you,” she said, trying not to offend Mark. He was much more polite than the other senior men, Carol noticed, and she didn’t want to be rude.

Mark smiled - his sad, far-off smile. “Don’t worry,” he said simply. “There’s …”

Carol suddenly knew. “There’s no alcohol, is there?” She poured a drink, shaking, as she wondered how she knew that. “Thanks.” She took a sip. “I really should be getting back to my room. I’ve got a …”

“… chemistry test tomorrow at 8:00,” Mark finished. Briefly, the two shared a confused look, wondering how Mark had known.

“And you brought this because you don’t drink much and knew that some freshmen didn’t either,” Carol said with certainty. It was Mark’s turn to look puzzled. The conversation turned to the play, then to the student activities board. Then on to other interests. Amid a sea of drunk freshman and seniors, Carol and Mark stood talking, among the few really sober people present, and they found themselves having fun.

“Oh, there you are.” Kelly pranced up beside Mark, and wrapped one arm around him. Her glance at Carol was pure malice. She didn’t want Carol anywhere near ‘her guy’.

Carol started to make an excuse to leave, when she saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. The world slowed, every action taking a seemingly prolonged amount of time. As she turned toward the action, she saw the figure, his face a mask of pure hatred. She saw the arm uncoiling, propelling the hard fist upward and outward. In slow motion, as Carol screamed ‘No,’ the fist closed the distance, then struck, smashing into cartilage and flesh and bone. The crunch of tissues breaking under the impact seemed louder than a cannon, and with a spray of blood, the head snapped sideways from the blow. Gravity seemed to have been turned off as the body slowly crumpled, spinning from the imparted force, collapsing in an awkward dance toward the gravel-covered parking lot. Kelly screamed, her hands reaching up to cover her mouth, oblivious to the blood splattered on her jacket. The fist returned, ready to deliver another blow should it be needed.

Carol screamed. The world returned to normal speed as she turned toward John. She felt tears welling up in her eyes, tears of anger and hurt and betrayal and a dozen other emotions. And on John’s face she saw the jealous rage which had caused him to take such an irrational action, pumped on by alcohol and adrenaline. She turned back, and saw Mark roll to his side.

Carol’s gasp was lost in a sea of similar noise. Mark’s face was badly battered and bloody. His nose was broken, of that Carol was certain. Blood ran down his face from the nose, and from dozens of smaller cuts inflicted by his face-first impact on the gravel. As Mark pushed his hands under his body, trying to lever himself up, Carol saw John step toward him, still angry and ready to inflict more physical punishment. But he was immediately intercepted by three other seniors, who man-handled him away from his victim.

Carol looked back at Mark, who was on his hands and knees, dripping blood from his battered nose. She squatted down beside him, and saw him look up. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled as tears streamed from her eyes.

Mark stared at her, his emotions hidden by the damage. His eyes seemed dazed, uncomprehending. But then Carol saw a spark. A twinkle. No anger, no blame, no hurt. A look of trying to comfort her.

Someone pushed Carol rudely aside. “Out of the way,” Kelly barked. “Get out of here!” Kelly squatted down beside Mark, and began to dab at the blood with a tissue, as if one tissue could clean up the mess. Kelly turned away from Mark for a moment, and glared at Carol. “If you hadn’t been here, this wouldn’t have happened!”

In a daze, Carol started back toward her room. The noise of the beanie raid was fading behind her with every step she took. Tears were streaming down her face. She’d seen it. Before the beanie, raid, she’d seen the images of what had happened. But how? Why? She was so lost in thought that she didn’t hear the footsteps crunching across the gravel running behind her.

“Are you all right?”

The voice startled Carol. She turned, and saw John, panting a bit from catching up to her. He looked so boyish, so innocent, and if she hadn’t seen it, she would never have believed him capable of the violence he’d just inflicted. She stopped, then stepped aside for a car to pass. A car containing Mark, Kelly, and a couple of Mark’s friends. Going to the emergency room. In that one brief moment, seeing Mark in the car, his head tilted back, red handkerchiefs pressed against his nose, Carol realized just what John had done. She felt something snap inside her. “Get away from me,” she snarled.

John seemed taken aback. “What?

“I don’t ever want to be near you again!” Carol heard her voice rising.

“But a guy has to defend his …”

Carol didn’t give him a chance to finish. “I’m not your property! And Mark and I were just talking.” Carol felt herself being driven by some internal force she didn’t understand. “I’m through with you!” She turned to leave.

John grasped her arm, painfully. “But…” His inebriation slowed his thoughts, and he couldn’t think of much more to say.

Carol was spun toward him, and as she glanced up, she felt a stab of terror at the look in John’s eyes. He was, she realized, capable of great violence, even against her. Breaking up now, when he was drunk, was a bad idea. She felt herself try to back away from him, and felt the pain in her arm as he clenched his grip even tighter.

The memory was hazy at first, but clarified almost instantly. Lying on the ground, on the side. Doubled up, vision fogged with the pain. A searing, unimaginable pain burning every nerve in the groin, reaching up, down, out, to incapacitate. Tasting the bile from vomiting at the excruciating pain.

A voice inside Carol told her what to do. She took a quick step forward and brought her knee up as hard as she could. Instantly, the pressure on her arm vanished, and she backpedaled quickly.

The anger on John’s face was replaced by shock. And pain. He fell forward, doubling over, then collapsed to the ground, his hands clutching at his groin in a desperate bid to stop the agony.

Carol glared down at John, then turned and stomped back to her dorm room. As she shut the door behind her, her self-confidence vanished, leaving her trembling. How had she known what the knee would do to John? As if she’d experienced it, no less. And she’d seen the whole thing earlier that night, but it was as if it were … Carol suddenly realized whose memories she seemed to have had.

**********

Carol watched as Mark wandered into the Liberal Arts building, with Kelly hanging all over him — as usual. She waited a moment for Lisa to catch up, then walked back toward the dorm. “How can he keep hanging out with a girl who only wants to trap a husband?” Carol thought aloud.

“Who?” Lisa asked, curious.

Carol realized she’d actually said it. “Mark. Doesn’t he know that Kelly is just looking for a husband?”

Lisa laughed. “So are most of the freshmen girls. And the seniors know it. The guys seem to love the attention.” Lisa paused for a moment. “Are you still feeling guilty about the other night? Or are you jealous of Kelly?”

“No,” Carol answered quickly — too quickly, she realized. She looked down sheepishly. “Maybe. I guess.”

**********

Three weeks later — five beanie raids, twelve play rehearsals, and two frat parties, Carol was frustrated. Her social life hadn’t tanked, despite her fears. The fallout of dumping John was mitigated by his very boorish behavior. And while Mark wasn’t as popular as John, the student body frowned on John’s actions. Carol came out of the unfortunate event a bit of a heroine. And Mark — six stitches, black eye, broken nose, and a bunch of contusions were what he had to show for it.

Classes had been easy. Too easy. As if she was repeating something that she’d done before. Carol sat at the reception desk at the student union, trying to do some studying. But she was bored. She turned on the radio.

The station was playing a news clip. That was strange — the radio was tuned to a rock-n-roll station. She glanced down at the dial to confirm its setting. And even before the bulletin got to it, Carol knew. John Lennon had been shot and killed by a deranged gunman outside his apartment.

Within moments, the news bulletin confirmed what Carol knew — frightening her about how she’d known. Another one of those damned visions! She wanted to scream. What did they mean? Why was she having them?

She realized someone was standing by the desk, listening to the news. When she glanced up, she was surprised. It was Mark. And even before Carol saw it, she knew the sad haunted look on Mark’s face. But why was John Lennon so important to ....

She heard the tune and the lyrics in her head. Imagine. Let it Be. Starting Over. The lyrics which both spoke to the pain that ... who ... had known, and which promised something better — love, happiness. Achieving this despite the pain. It ... resonated within her for some odd reason. Carol shook her head, her eyes half closed as she fought to retain her senses against the onslaught of memories. Memories which she couldn’t have. Memories which she shouldn’t have.

She finally looked up, and saw Mark again. He was watching her, with that sad smile of his. “Are you okay?” she finally asked.

Mark nodded slowly. “I guess so.” He didn’t seem too sure of himself.

Carol felt a brief shudder as she looked at Mark. Something seemed just too familiar. “I’m sorry about what John did the other…”

Mark closed his eyes and nodded. “I know. You’ve apologized for that already.”

Carol couldn’t tell him that her mind kept replaying that evening, and always with her feeling the blow and the pain. “I feel bad about it, though.” An awkward pause ensued. “How are you doing … about the Lennon thing?”

Mark’s mouth dropped open, and he stared wonderingly at Carol. “How …?”

Carol shook her head. “I don’t know. I just had a feeling that it was important to you.”

Mark leaned on the counter, his face slumping into his hands. “It’s tough. I don’t know why, but it just seems so…”

“Final? Like a sympathetic voice was hushed?”

Mark looked up slowly, his eyes betraying his pain. “Yup.” He lifted his head slowly, and Carol saw that he looked really bad.

Carol tried to smile. “Kamikazes can sneak up on you, you know.”

Mark’s mouth dropped open again. “How could you possibly know that I’ve had a few Kamikazes?”

Carol was puzzled herself. “I don’t know. It just occurred to me.” Indeed, it had, and more so than she was admitting. She saw the whole thing — sitting in an overstuffed chair, a large glass of vodka and lime juice in one hand, the ice long-since melted, while the radio played in the background, announcing the news of John Lennon’s assassination while it played his music in tribute. And there was something else. A phone call? To whom? She could almost hear the conversation. Almost. Whoever was on the other end was crying.

“Carol?” Mark’s voice was hushed, but insistent.

Carol snapped out of her daydream. “I’m sorry. My mind was somewhere else.”

Mark looked like he’d just been slighted. “I know you’ve got work to do.” He turned to leave.

Carol felt a stab of pain. She’d just done something wrong, even if she didn’t know what it was. “Did you break up?” she asked hastily.

Mark turned back slowly. “How could you have …? I mean, I just …. “ He bit his lip, wondering what was going on. “I don’t think I did it very well,” he finally admitted. “She was kind of hurt.”

“And when is it easy?”

**********

Carol got back to her dorm room just as Lisa hung up the telephone. “Talk about lousy timing,” Lisa said with a touch of irony. “Your dad just called.”

Carol looked confused. “But my dad’s …” She stopped suddenly. Dad was … what? Dead? But that was … impossible! He’d just called, hadn’t he? So why did she have a memory of staring through misty eyes into a coffin, saying goodbye for the last time? And yet, there were the other memories — her dad kissing her goodbye before she headed off to college. Her dad calling her just to check on his baby girl. So which were the real memories? And why was she having them? She looked up abruptly, and noticed that Lisa was starting at her. “What?”

Lisa barely raised an eyebrow. “I’m getting worried about you,” she answered.

Carol felt the tears coming and struggled to stop them even as she slumped into her chair. “Why?”

Lisa sat down on her bed. “You just had another one of them, didn’t you?”

Carol didn’t answer; she just nodded. For a long time, Carol considered whether she could talk to Lisa about this. But then, if she couldn’t talk to Lisa, who could she talk to. Finally, she spoke. “I just don’t understand.” The tears started to trickle out. “It’s like I’m not who I’m supposed to be. It’s like part of me, ummm, I don’t know. Like I’m not me.” She wiped a tear from her cheek. “Like I have two sets of memories.”

Lisa watched her roommate and friend carefully. Carol had been under a lot of stress, true, but this was different. “I’m not sure I understand.”

Carol gave a single derisive sarcastic chuckle, ironic given the tears on her cheeks. “And I do?” She shook her head. “It’s like there are two people inside me.” She wiped another tear. “Or at least two people’s memories.” Carol looked at Lisa, to see if her friend believed her. “Look, you know how much I had to work with chemistry and math in high school, right?” Lisa nodded. “Well, I’ve been getting A’s in both. Without having to study hard.”

“But maybe it all just clicked.”

Carol shook her head. “So why do I remember teaching it?” She watched Lisa’s eyes widen. “That’s right, teaching it. While I was getting a master’s degree?” She shook her head. “I remember so many things that I couldn’t have done. A PhD. Getting married. Having sex.” Lisa’s eyes narrowed at that one. “No, not like that! Being with a woman, having sex as a man!” She felt the tears rolling freely now. “It’s like I’m not me! Look, you had to practically teach me how to do makeup, didn’t you?” Lisa nodded. “But you should remember me doing my own makeup in high school, right? There are images, memories, in my head that say I did! But why can’t I remember how? We were friends back then, too, right?” She shook her head. “I still have to catch myself sometimes in the bathroom. It’s like my subconscious expects me to pee standing up.”

Lisa was dazed. “But that would mean that, somehow, you’re a guy in Carol’s body. And with most of her memories.”

Carol sobbed. “It sounds crazy, doesn’t it.” She buried her face in her hands. “Is that what it is? Am I going crazy?”

**********

Carol and Lisa were wandering through the fair, enjoying the crisp autumn day and a break from classes. An afternoon break from classes for the fair was a tradition, and the two girls were determined to make the most of it. John had tried to reconcile with Carol, and asked her to go to the fair with him, but she turned him down. After the beanie-raid incident, she was determined never to go near him again.

And so the two girls wound their way through the fair. The rides on the midway. The contest booths. The snacks. And then they strode past the tent. Carol felt a shudder, like she’d experienced it all before, and she quickened her step.

But Lisa was intrigued. “Let’s stop,” she said enthusiastically.

Carol looked nervously at the tent, and the curious little sign. ‘Madam Zelda — Fortunes Told’ “I don’t want to…”

“Oh, come on!” Lisa encouraged. “What can it hurt?”

The inside of the tent seemed somehow larger than the outside. And the gypsy — she was a stereotypical gypsy. Long flowing skirt, peasant blouse, scarf, gold-capped teeth, bangles and rings and earrings and necklaces of gold.

“Welcome, Carol,” the old woman said pleasantly.

Carol shuddered, The gypsy’s gaze seemed to peer into her inner being, her soul. “How do you …”

The gypsy cackled. “And you feel like you’ve done this before.” Carol glanced nervously at Lisa, then nodded. The gypsy laughed. “And you have, my dear. You have. And you shall again.” She gestured at the chair. “Please, sit.”

Carol glanced at Lisa, then slid into the chair. This was getting weird. “I don’t understand how …”

Madam Zelda waved her hands over her crystal ball. “Madam Zelda knows all, sees all.” She glanced up at Lisa. “Please wait outside, my dear. Carol and I have much to discuss.”

Lisa looked at Carol, then shrugged and slipped back out.

Madam Zelda gazed deeply into Carol’s eyes. “You are troubled.”

Carol nodded her confirmation. “It’s like I’m experiencing someone else’s memories. Like I’m not who I’m supposed to be.”

Madam Zelda nodded slowly. “It is not yet time for all to be revealed.” She waved her hands in a complicated and intricate pattern over her crystal ball. And Carol felt a calmness permeating her very being. The strange memories and images faded.

Carol seemd to come out of a trance. “Am I ever going to find love?” she asked, sounding a little more like a confident young lady.

Madam Zelda looked evenly at Carol. “You did well to stop dating when you did. That young man was a mistake.” She frowned. “There is one for you, but time is your enemy. If you do not act, it will be too late.” She took Carol’s hand. “You must act on your heart.”

**********

The moonlight reflected off the waters of the fountain, casting a faint sparkling light into Carol’s eyes. And yet, her eyes betrayed her inner turmoil. She was still considering what the old gypsy had said. Time was her enemy. Or it would be too late. Too late for what? Carol was most troubled by this. So she’d walked around the campus, lost in her own thoughts. And she’d been drawn to this fountain as if by magic. The serenity of the splashing water, the cool concrete ledge on which Carol was perched, the impenetrable blackness of the night sky, studded with twinkling jewels and a wide full moon.

Carol realized quite suddenly that someone was nearby, watching her. She glanced around, and saw a figure sitting on a bench, gazing at her. Before she could get nervous, she recognized the silhouette. “Uh, hi Mark.” She steadied her nerves. “You startled me.”

Mark stood slowly and walked over, easing himself onto the ledge beside Carol. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” He was sitting close enough to talk, but not so close that Carol could think he was being forward. A comfortable social distance.

Carol looked up at the stars. “Nice night.”

Mark wasn’t looking at the stars, but at her. “Yup.” Carol glanced at him, and saw that he was looking at her. For the briefest moment, their eyes met, then he looked down. “I like this place. So quiet, so peaceful.”

“You seem kind of lost in thought,” Carol observed.

Mark glanced up, and smiled. “I could say the same about you.” He looked down again. “I was just thinking about things.”

“Like Kelly?”

Mark’s head snapped up. “How…” His head slumped forward, nodding as he resumed staring at the concrete. “I don’t think I handled it very well. I’ve never had to break up with a girlfriend before.”

“But she was getting too serious, and that scared you, right?”

Mark’s surprise was total. “I think so, yeah.”

Carol laughed. “In case you were wondering, all the girls knew that she was only shopping for a husband. You did good to escape her evil clutches.”

“You make it sound so sinister.”

Carol smiled. “Sorry. We girls, those of us serious about our degrees, talk about the husband hunters that way.” Carol looked at the faint image of Mark. “No senior cap tonight?”

Mark laughed. “No. I didn’t really feel like that tonight. And I see you forgot your beanie.”

It was Carol’s turn to smile. “Uh huh. Am I in trouble or something?”

Mark smiled. “I doubt it. It’s not against the rules to sit here and think. And who’s going to tell on you if I don’t?”

Carol and Mark talked long into the night under the twinkling stars. It was nearly two when Mark walked Carol back to her dorm. She thought she was being quiet when she slipped into her room and started undressing.

“Finally home.” Lisa was awake.

Carol sighed. “Yeah. I was just thinking by the fountain.”

The darkness hid the doubtful look on Lisa’s face. “Long time to be thinking.”

Carol smiled to herself. “Mark was there, too.” She realized that Lisa was going to say something. “Oh,no, not like that!” Carol pre-empted Lisa’s comments. “We were just talking.”

“Are you interested?”

Carol started to answer, and found none. “I don’t know. I mean, he seems so nice and everything.”

Lisa was surprised. “Are we talking about the same guy? He seems so … distant. So cold and unapproachable.” She frowned as she thought. “Some of the other guys say he’s kind of a loner.”

“I don’t know. I got the impression that’s just a front. A mask. He seems to be hurting inside.” Carol was surprised that she seemed to be defending Mark. “I think he’s just always been lonely.”

**********

A week later, Carol was sitting at the fountain, sitting and thinking. Autumn had brought cool evenings, and Carol shivered in her sweater. Why was she here? Was she just enjoying the quiet solitude of the fountain, or was she secretly hoping to meet Mark again, to enjoy his company?

“Hi.” Mark seemed to materialize out of thin air. “A bit chilly tonight, isn’t it?”

Carol smiled. “Yeah, it is.”

Mark sat down, again a good social distance away from Carol. “You seem distracted again.”

Carol smiled. “Is that how all our conversations start?”

Mark laughed. “Seems like it, doesn’t it.” He looked down at the concrete. “So are you going to go out with John again?”

Carol gasped. How had he known that? “He did ask me. I mean, it’s the fall formal.”

Mark seemed to slump, as if some life had been drained from him. “I guess it would help your social standing.”

Carol started to answer, then heard her name called out. She spun, as did Mark, to see John staggering toward the fountain.

“Hey,” John called, as he got closer. “What are you doing?” He was shouting not at Carol, but at Mark.

“It’s none of your business who I talk to.” Carol surprised herself by her anger.

John stared at her for a second, then at Mark. “If you’re dating me, you can’t see other guys.” Awkwardly, drunkenly, John took a step toward Mark, his fist already cocked.

“No!” Carol screamed. But this time, the action happened so fast that she barely knew what had happened. John swung at Mark. But this time, he was ready. Mark easily deflected the blow, letting John’s momentum carry him past Mark. And even as he went by, Mark caught John’s arm and twisted it violently around John’s back while shoving John down face-first onto the fountain ledge.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Mark said, his tone soft but very sincere. He hoisted John to his feet and pushed him rudely away from the fountain, watching carefully until John was out of sight.

“How did you do that?” Carol asked, surprised. When John showed up, she’d been expecting a replay of the beanie raid.

Mark clenched his jaw and controlled his breathing until it was normal. “Just a little something I picked up.”

Carol heard the controlled fury leaving his voice, replaced by the lonesome calm. She realized that he could have hurt John, and very badly. “But…”

Mark smiled sadly. “I wasn’t ready the other night. My fault, I guess.”

“But why didn’t you just flatten him?” Then her eyes widened. “Because you’re mostly a non-violent person, isn’t it.”

Mark turned, and Carol genuine surprise in his eyes. “How is it that you seem to know me so well?”

Carol shook her head. “I don’t know.” There followed a long awkward silence. “Thank you for standing up for me.”

Mark smiled a curious smile. “What else is a gentleman to do for a lady?”

Carol smiled. “This lady is thankful.” She glanced at her watch, then stood up. “I’ve got an early class, so I should be getting back to my room.”

“Maybe I should walk back to the dorm with you. Just in case…”

Carol’s smiled broadened. “I think I’d like that.”

At the door to the dorm, Carol turned toward Mark. “Thanks again.”

Mark seemed genuinely embarrassed. “No problem,” he mumbled. “Well, see you later,” he said noncommittally as he started to turn.

Carol reached out and caught Mark by the hand. He was genuinely startled as he turned back toward her. But before he could protest, she lifted herself up on her toes, her arms sliding up around Mark’s neck. With a surprising strength, she pulled his head down, toward her lips. Slowly, deliberately, Carol kissed Mark.

Lisa was awake when Carol slipped into the room. “So how was it?”

Carol feigned ignorance. “Nice night, but a bit chilly.”

Lisa chuckled. “That kiss should have warmed things up a bit.”

“You were watching!”

Lisa laughed. “So I take it you aren’t going to the fall formal with John?”

**********

Carol sat at the student union reception desk, wondering if Mark would be coming by. For nearly two weeks since she kissed him, she’d been secretly hoping that he’d come by. They’d seen each other, and talked, but that was mostly between classes. She wanted to see him here. Where it was unhurried. Where they could talk and be together. Finally, when she was about to give up hope, he came. They talked. For a couple of hours, Mark and Carol talked. About classes. School. Carol’s major. Mark’s major. Graduation. What Mark wanted to do. What Carol wanted to do. About everything. Finally, Carol started to shut down the desk. The student union was closing. Mark stood to leave.

Carol looked up, a bit surprised. “Well?” she asked simply.

Mark looked confused. “Well, what?”

Carol sighed. “Well, aren’t you going to ask me out?”

Mark looked embarrassed. “Um, would you…”

Carol grinned. “Name the place and time.” She paused, then stood and gave him a kiss.

**********

Mark had a picnic basked in his car when he picked up Carol. As they drove through the peaceful mountain canyons, Carol sighed happily as she thought of the time they’d been spending together in the past few weeks — they’d practically become inseparable! Their destination came into view — a surprise to Carol. A nice peaceful lake, surrounded by blue-green pine trees interspersed with the brilliant yellow and red fall coats of maples and aspens and other varieties of trees. The blue sky reflected perfectly in the mirror-smooth water. A more ideal setting for a picnic Carol could not imagine. Carol smiled, knowing that deep down, despite his outward façade, Mark was a romantic guy.

It was while they were eating the sandwiches that Carol saw a strange look on Mark’s face. “What’s on your mind?” she asked.

Mark looked downcast. “I got a job offer.”

Carol was confused. “That’s great. Isn’t it?”

Mark looked up, and Carol saw the faintest hint of a tear in the corner of one eye. “Not really. It’s in San Jose.”

Carol was surprised. “Good company?”

Mark gave her the specifics. “Yeah, I’d say it’s a good job opportunity.”

“But…”

Mark looked down so Carol couldn’t see the sadness in his eyes.

“It’s a long ways away. And you’re going to take it, aren’t you.” Carol felt tears welling up in the corners of her own eyes. “Is this goodbye?” she asked, her voice trembling.

Mark looked down. “I hope not,” he mumbled. “I want to go on. I want to keep being with you.” He swallowed. “I know you’re going to think this is corny, but somehow — and I can’t explain it — I have the feeling that you’re the right one.”

Tears were streaming down Carol’s cheeks. “How can we make it work?” She wiped one cheek with her hand. “I mean, you’re going to be a thousand miles away. And I have three more years of college to go!” Carol felt her world collapsing around her.

Mark stared across the lake. “I could stay here. You know — start on a master’s degree while you finish.” Then he reached into his pocket, fumbling for something. Finally, he pulled out a small box and handed it to Carol.

With a confused look, Carol opened the box. Her mouth dropped open with surprise as she recognized the contents. She glanced up at Mark, then back in the box. At the ring. She glanced up at Mark again. “Are you really asking…”

Mark nodded. “Yes, I’m asking…” He didn’t have time to finish. Carol’s kiss was all the answer he needed.

As he slipped the ring on her finger, Mark’s ears perked up. He thought he heard something. Like music. Violin music. With a … gypsy … tempo? Mark glanced at Carol, who was glancing around. She’d heard the music, too.

Like a siren song, it lured them. They followed the sound until they came to a small clearing in the woods. A small gypsy tent. Madam Zelda’s gypsy tent.

Carol’s heart leaped to her throat when she recognized the tent. What was this? Was it some terrible omen? Or a sign that things were going properly?

Madam Zelda emerged from the tent. “Please come in,” she gestured at the open tent flap.

Carol glanced fearfully at Mark, then the newly-engaged pair walked slowly into Madam Zelda’s tent. Carol gasped. It was as if the tent had been prepared for them. Two chairs waited. They sat down when Madam Zelda gestured at the chairs.

Mark swallowed uneasily. “It’s like she was expecting us,” he whispered to Carol.

Madam Zelda’s laugh cackled in their ears. “Of course I was expecting you,” she said with a gold-toothy-smile. “Madam Zelda knows all.”

“But what…” Realization dawned in Carol’s eyes. “Is Mark the one? Is that why you’re here? To tell me that I’ve found him?”

Madam Zelda smiled. “That’s part of it, my child. You see, the circle is now complete. Your destinies are now complete.” She began to recite some strange words in a low voice — strange and foreign words which seemed to dance from her tongue in time with the intricate hand motions she was making.

Mark glanced at Carol, not comprehending her words, and he saw that she was just as confused as Mark. They glanced back at Madam Zelda.

Madam Zelda finished her incantation. Like a curtain drawn aside, the truth was suddenly clear to both Mark and Carol. They knew.

Mark was the first to speak. “I’m Carol? And she’s Mark?”

“How…” Carol spoke, trying to find words among the jumble of data that had just flooded her mind. “I’m really … Mark? And you…”

Madam Zelda smiled. “Yes.”

Mark looked at Carol. “We were … we were in this tent. And we were wondering why we’d never gotten together. And then…”

Carol swallowed. This was confusing. “And I was put here … in your body?” She turned to Zelda. “Why? Why the swap?”

Mark suddenly remembered. “She said we couldn’t go back. That we’d make the same mistakes again.”

Realization dawned in Carol’s eyes. “So to get a different outcome, we had to walk in the other’s path. Or else we still wouldn’t have gotten together.”

Madam Zelda smiled. “You truly do understand. You are most perceptive.”

“But how?” Carol frowned with confusion. “And why?”

Madam Zelda looked weary. “Through powers that you can never understand.” She sighed. “As far as why, I knew that your lives did not match your destines. Something had gone wrong.” She smiled. “You two are destined to be together. It is important to the future that you be together. I had to correct the errors which had happened.”

Mark nodded. “I think I see.”

Carol nodded her agreement. “Even if I don’t believe in your powers, I know what happened. So now what? Do you say your incantation and put us back?”

Madam Zelda smiled sadly. “I cannot do that. Your destinies are fixed. I cannot alter them.”

Carol’s mouth hung agape. “So I’m stuck … in this body?” Madam Zelda nodded slowly.

Mark got a curious grin. “Seems like a pretty nice body to be ‘stuck’ in, if you ask me.”

Carol stared at Mark in shock. “But we’ll have to live as each other.”

Mark smiled. “Like we have for the past couple of months? Seems like it’s a small price to pay for being together.” He winked at Carol. “Besides, now that my memories are fully restored, I’m looking forward to our honeymoon.”

Carol started to say something, then a smile crept over her face. “I guess I can adjust to being a woman. And you’re right. It’s worth it to be together.”

********************

Epilogue — Twenty-six years later.

Nikki and her friend practically bounced through the door of the shop, the tinkle of the bells announcing their presence.

Madam Zelda came out from the back room, a false smile already fixed on her face. She looked at the girls. “Nikki, you are late once again.” She turned her attention to Nikki’s friend. A rather tall young lady. Tall and slender, but not skinny. More athletic, Madam Zelda decided. Very nice figure — she took care of herself. And she was pretty; her attractive face was neatly framed by her brunette hair, worn at the moment in a neat ponytail. Madam Zelda’s smile warmed.

Nikki looked down sheepishly. “I know I’m late. I had to get a ride. Car broke down again.”

Madam Zelda frowned. “Yes. I know that.” She shook her head. “Why you don’t date some nice boy who can fix that for you…” She turned to the other girl. “And how are you, Victoria?” She watched the other girl as her eyes widened with surprise.

“How did …”

Madam Zelda smiled. “Madam Zelda knows all. Besides, you have your mother’s eyes. By the way, how are they doing?”

Victoria glanced at Nikki, who was smiling at her friend’s predicament. “How do you know…?”

Madam Zelda’s smile broadened. “I met your parents. A long time ago. I helped them out with a little problem.”

Victoria nodded, even if she didn’t fully understand. “Well, it was nice to meet you. But I’ve got to get going. I’ve got to get to work.”

Madam Zelda clucked. “At that dingy pizza parlor?” She shook her head, clucking her disapproval.

Another surprised look from Victoria. “But I have to earn some money for college.”

Madam Zelda laughed. “What they pay I’d hardly call money.” She looked at the girl, straight into her eyes. Victoria flinched, feeling the gaze penetrate into her. “You could work for me.”

Victoria glanced at Nikki, then back at Madam Zelda. “Are you serious?”

Madam Zelda smiled. “I do not joke about such things. I pay better, and the hours are better for a student.”

Victoria glanced at Nikki, then back at Madam Zelda. “I guess so. Yes.” She shook Madam Zelda’s hand, sealing the deal. “But I’ve still got to give notice, and work out my obligation.” She turned and standing in the doorway, smiled. “Thanks.”

After she had gone, Nikki turned to her mother. “Why?” she asked simply.

Madam Zelda smiled. “Tell me what you see.”

Nikki closed her eyes partway, her brow furrowed in concentration. “I see her … practicing the arts. She’s a … an engineer? Practicing our arts?”

Madam Zelda smiled. “The magic is strong in the girl. We owe it to her — and to her parents — to help her learn it. So she can use the arts for good.” As Nikki went to the back of the shop to change, Madam Zelda glanced at the door, where Victoria had gone. “She really does have her mother’s eyes.”

FIN