This Can All Be Yours…if…

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Is Rocco Prestia playing my heart right now? You know the bass player from Tower of Power. It’s like my heart is trying to answer the eternal question.

Surprised that I still have some juice left in my smart watch, I check my heart rate. 155!

Honestly, I can’t remember how long I’ve been walking. But I see no end in sight. And I don’t even see a place I can sit down.

Maybe I should’ve planned this hike a little better.

And it doesn’t help matters that it’s hot as balls out here. I would take my shirt off because it’s soaked through. But I’m sure my sunscreen has worn off by now. Sunburn or heat stroke? Take your pick.

Reaching into my pack, I have maybe sixteen ounces of water left. I need to conserve, but screw it. I take a sip.

Seriously, where the hell am I? My phone died a long time ago, but GPS wasn’t exactly on point.

If this winds up with me having to cut off my hand with a pocket knife, I’m gonna be pissed.

I walk a few more minutes. Will I be able to find any life? Will I be able to find a way back home? Will they be able to find my body?

Out of nowhere, I hear a voice.

“You lost, man?”

Wait…am I hearing things? Isn’t it too early for the hallucinations to start? I haven’t been out here that long…have I?

And for that matter, that voice sounded awfully familiar.

“Anybody there?” I yell out to whoever would listen.

“I’m over here, man.”

I still don’t see anyone. I walk a few more minutes and I come across a cliff. This was unexpected.

I pull out my map. Yes, I still have a paper map just in case.

“It isn’t on there,” said the disembodied voice.

“Where the hell are you?”

“Over here.” I turn my head to try and find him, and I may be hallucinating. Because…

“Your eyes aren’t deceiving you. I am you.”

He’s right. This person looks just like me. Same build, same hair, same…shit, it’s me! He’s not sweating though. He looks like he’s showered lately too.

“What is this?” I ask. “Are you George Bailey?”

“No, I mean…Chris! I’m YOU!”

“I’m confused. Are you a ghost?”

“How can I prove that I’m real?”

I thought for a moment. I walk over to this imposter…and throw a punch. I figured I’d connect with air.

With a giant TWACK, a sharp pain shoots through my fist. He comes up holding his jaw. “Really?!”

“Man I am so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Deontay Wilder you’re not. I’ll be okay. It was a glancing blow. You probably got the worst out of that.”

Well shit…I guess this is some sort of time void. I’ve been told this kind of stuff can happen on Dr. Who…but I don’t watch Dr. Who.

“I know you wanna ask,” he says.

“Who are you?”

“I’m you.”

“Can we stop with the Who’s on First? You’re clearly not me.”

He chuckles for a moment. “You got me. Let’s have a seat. I wanna show you something.”

Imposter Chris leads me over to the cliff. We both sit.

“Isn’t this dangerous?”

“You’ve got a lot to learn, myself. A little bit about me. Indeed, I am you. But I am the you that you wish you were. I’m your ideal you.”

I flash him a pretty confused look.

“You’re totally lost, aren’t you?”

“Can we stop with the riddles?”

Imposter Chris flashes me his left hand.

“Notice something?”

“You’re married.”

“YOU’RE married. Remember, I’m you and you’re me.”

I’m not going to lie; this is pissing me off. I’m getting nowhere here and Laurel isn’t helping.

“Yeah we’re married,” he says. “Her name is Marissa. She’s graphic designer and sings in a band on the weekends. She just went on maternity for both. She wants to quit the band but I’m…I mean we’re trying to talk her out of it.”

“I’m having a kid?”

“A little boy. Anthony Patrick.”

“Am I ready?” To which my imposter doppelganger begins laughing like mad. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“We will be, though.”

We sit in silence for a while. I look to my right and I see a circle of vultures. They’re not over me…thank God. But they could be soon.

“Why are we here?”

“I’m glad you asked. I took this jump a few years ago. It was the most perfect jump I’ve ever taken. Stand up.”

We both stand up to get a better angle at the bottom. I don’t believe what I’m seeing.

“Is this real?”

I’m sitting behind a table that is piled high with books. My book. A line maybe twenty people deep wait for me to autograph their copy.

I’ve got a huge smile on my face as I’m interacting with every person whose book I autograph.

Clearly, I’m having a blast.

“Really?” I say to my stunt double.

“Yeah. You missed the bestseller list by about a thousand copies. But it’s very well received.”

“This is the one about the talk show host?”

“It turned out really good. Once we got out of our own way and wrote the damn thing, it turned out very well. James Patterson even gave us some love.”

“Nice. I can get behind this.”

“Look over there.”

I do and see something that draws a tear from my eye.

It’s a gorgeous beach. Like something from a postcard. The sun is closing in on the horizon. The light is perfect.

I’m wearing a linen shirt and slacks. No shoes.

A photographer has her tripod set up and is adjusting her camera.

“We’re ready.” I look behind me and I’m stopped in my tracks. This is Marissa. She’s wearing a floral print sundress. Her raven hair blows in the wind like she’s in a shampoo commercial. Elegant. Classy. She can’t be real. “What?”

I stand there dumbfounded for a few moments.

“God you’re beautiful.” Marissa flashes a million-dollar smile. She leans in and plants a kiss on my lips. Yep, she’s real.

Looking down, I see the baby carrier. Here’s baby Tony. Nine months old, perfect in every way.

I pick him up. He flashes a giant grin when he sees my face.

“You guys ready?” says the photographer.

“You okay, man?” other me says to me.

If only I had a mirror. I had to be flashing a goofy grin. I wipe a tear from my cheek.

“This can all be yours, man. All you need to do is take a leap.”

“So you’re saying that I can have this if I take a leap?”

“Jump off the cliff. Now there IS the bad side.”

“I knew there was a catch.”

“Look over there.”

I do. And I’m probably thirty pounds heavier than I am now. I’m drinking something out of a paper sack and I’m obviously trashed.

No wedding ring. No kid. No book deal. No life.

“You could land there too. But you never know unless you take the jump.”

Seems like a no brainer to me. He’s got the life I want. He’s got the life I crave. He’s got the life I deserve. I feel like I’m in a psycho game show. “This all can be yours, if you jump off a cliff.”

“What do you say, man?”

I take a deep breath.

Here goes nothing. And here goes everything.