Infinite Loop - Chapter 43

Start of a Journey

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Chapter 43

The rhythmic sound of distant bells drifted into Warren’s mind. At first, the sound mixed with the clouds as he soared over, making his body and mind feel like he was afloat in an endless ocean. Then he recognized he was awake.

Damn it, not again!

He laid on his back, feeling a blanket under him. A gentle breeze tickled his face, and the bells continued clanging in the distance. The sun felt warm on his face, but he refused to open his eyes. At first, he considered just going back to sleep. However, his mind was already whirling with thoughts, none of them good. He lost the one person who could relate to the experiences of this dreadful world of make-believe. His mood soured quickly.

“Damn it,” he said aloud.

He knew the cycle was coming again. It was the next start to another role where Warren would try to stay alive.

Hell, maybe I’ll save them the trouble.

He opened his eyes. Green leaves covered the large elm tree that he lay under. Lifting himself up to rest on his elbows, he beheld the bucolic view of a large open meadow that sloped away from him. At the end of the field, the thick green canopy of trees lined a meandering river, which mostly hid a village on the other side. A tall steeple stood high above the trees, sending the echoing peels from the bells across the valley. Warren moved himself to a sitting position, somewhat mesmerized by the tranquil scene which held a natural quality right out of a Currier and Ives print. A soft blanket lay beneath him on the dark green grass. A massive trunk towered behind him, and he repositioned his rear end closer to the trunk to lean against the deeply grooved bark.

After a moment of gathering his thoughts, Warren’s views turned dark again. Looking across the valley below, he wondered how deep the river might be. Maybe he would have the courage to throw himself into the water and fix this purgatory film world to a quick end. Warren debated the idea. A dreadful idea came to him. Whoever kept his spirit floating from one terrible place to another might have already thought of this option. The reasoning sent a growing rage inside him. Warren wanted to lash out at whoever ran the place.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

The familiar voice behind him caused Warren to freeze. Disbelief filled him when he looked back at the voice and the noise of footsteps.

It can’t be!

Amber strolled barefoot toward him. Dressed in a lovely white dress with green polka dots, she was a natural fit for the 30s style. Amber held her shoes with the straps in one hand. She carried a small wicker basket in the other. Warren continued staring at her with a speechless expression as she sat the basket on the blanket next to him.

“Good morning,” she told him with a smile. “It’s such a lovely day.”

His mouth opened, then closed again as he rose. As he stared at her, his voice finally came.

“Do you remember last night?”

Amber’s expression faltered as she looked away.

“Yes, I remember everything, the guns, the blood, and death. I don’t want to see it again.”

When she turned her eyes back on him, they were bright.

“You held me like you’d never let go. A feeling I’ll never forget filled my heart…it was…” Amber’s voice cracked.

“I never thought I would see you again.”

An awkward pause filled the air as the couple stared at each other. Finally, the woman grinned.

“I’ll start us off on the right foot,” she stated while extending her hand. “My name is Amber Lynn Filipek. I come from a long line of immigrant Poles who settled around Bay City, Indiana.”

Warren instinctively took her hand, but his gaze remained detached.

“See, I remember now,” Amber continued, ignoring his reaction. “It was just like you told me. I wish I would have believed you at the time.”

Her eyes rested on their joined hands.

“You know, we were still holding hands this morning.”

The woman told him as she looked at him again. Her blue eyes searched his face.

“At first, I thought you were a stranger. However, the more I looked, the more similarities I recognized in your face.” A smirk came to her lips. “I even checked your scar.”

“Well, how about me?” She twirled in front of him.

As Warren inspected her facial features, he realized she was correct. Her appearance was different, yet much the same. She was still quite attractive, with a button nose and full lips. It reminded him of looking at two sisters you barely know.

“You’re pretty and your eyes and hair color are the same. Yet, I see what you mean. It’s the features of your face that appear not the same but similar,” he observed stoically.

“Thanks,” she replied with a blush on her cheeks.

“It’s strange, but when I looked in my pocket mirror, I almost didn’t recognize myself. That’s when I realized this is what I looked like before. Well, I mean the first time before I died. It’s an earlier version of me, but I feel the same age.”

Warren shook his head at the news and sat down in the grass. Amber sat by him while she continued.

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