Sinking ghosts come out to play

Timelines that cross boundaries between the past and the present often fuck me up in the most random ways. I know that I’ve been here before, like this church, but I don’t quite remember how. I remember someone I used to resent that was supposed to be my friend, but he was somehow different.

Kenny, my best friend, had died and needed to tell us something. Us meaning our friend group that consisted of myself, Kyle, Stan, Cartman and Kenny. I know that something feels wrong here. I feel a family that has been lost. I know that things have to be this way, but I feel so guilty for this aching, angry feeling of grief. It’s shooting me in my heart and in these tender parts of my body, there’s a weight I cannot lift from my shoulders. I feel like sinking into the depths, into the floor, like in that movie, Get Out, or something.

Kenny became a world renowned scientist and had discovered time travel was possible, but killed himself in the process.

The details of the rest of what happened are so fuzzy.

I feel something inherently wrong about this church. Something was lost here. Someone.

Kenny is alive now because of the timelines converging, mixing and erasing some important things to keep our friend safe. It’s like taking all the important ingredients out of a traditional Manhattan, and replacing it with something similar but you just know by looking at it, sipping it once…. That something is very wrong.

Am I just a sanctimonious jerk after all? I feel like we should have saved someon-something else. Like Stan, I often told myself lies in order to justify sacrificing others just to make sure our own comfort and happiness was secured.

But I don’t think that’s true. In the other timeline, Stan was an alcoholic that yelled at Alexa like they were stuck in a bad marriage, an artificially intelligent android that replaced his real human interaction. Now, he’s with Wendy, his first love.

I’m still alone. That’s ok though, so is Cartman. He’s homeless and drinks all day and night, yelling obscenities at people walking by.

I saw Stan and Wendy last night for dinner.

“Dude, was Cartman ever married?” Stan asked randomly, making me squint and laugh.

“That fatass? No. N-Never,” I cleared my throat. Wendy moved over a long strand of black hair away from her face, giving me a strange look.

Stan looks confused and guilt-ridden. The silence feels so loud it’s like a familiar soundtrack to what is driving my ghost like grief.

“What’re you guys hungry for?” Wendy tries to change the tone. “I’ve been working all day in a stuffy office, definitely need a pick-me-up.” Stretching, she looks at her boyfriend with a soft glance. He nods but still looks distracted.

I start to say, “I kinda want pasta or maybe a burger. I don’t kn..”

“Kyle, I get this feeling that Cartman has been married before. Like, this nagging thing I can’t let go, you know?”

I lean in, wanting to agree. I just can’t do it. I feel so achy and alone, I don’t even know what this extra feeling is.

“Dude, honestly? We fixed the shit that needed to be fixed. We did what we had to, right? We did the right thing,” I say with a stammer and shaky breath.

Stan lowers his shoulders, then stiffens his back, looking at me with big saucer brown eyes. “What if we didn’t?”

I scoff. “And what if roses weren’t red and the sky wasn’t blue? Jeez Stan. Chill.”

Stan looks down, defeated in a way, pinching the bridge of his nose frustrated. I feel bad for taking it out on my friend but I am really stressed.

Wendy rolls her eyes. “You two sound like you need a break. And Kyle you look like there are permanent bags under your eyes. Why don’t we all go on a vacation this spring break? Get outta South Park and just chill by the beach.”

“I’d like that, Wendy, thanks for inviting me. What do you think Stan?” I ask him as Wendy is still eyeing me.

“Do you think you will have someone special to bring along?” She asks, sipping her tea.

“Kyle hasn’t really had a chance to find anyone out here in the sticks…” Stan interjects coyly.

I frown. “What’re you implying? Seriously… what the hell?” I lower my tone to try and calm down my shaking voice. Stan just shakes his head.

“Nothing. Nothing. Forget I said anything. Let’s just eat and try to get through this,” Stan says with an exhaustion.

“This? You mean dinner or something else?” I say under my breath and Stan just sighs.

“I will say, I know Cartman was a huge asshole when we were kids, possibly a psychopath, I get worried about him being all alone. He might drink himself to death out there. Maybe one of you could talk to him.”

“I’m not touching that, Wends, I really don’t have the energy to do anything with that mess,” Stan says, gulping a ice water. Even though Stan doesn’t drink anymore he seems to drink water as if it’s still alcohol with a mixture of savoring and bittersweet resentment.

“I feel like Kenny was closest with him. Right? Like they were always a bit closer to each other than the rest of you guys,” Wendy postures offhandedly.

Stan and I finally give each other a look that reminds me of when we’re young. It’s a look that says everything, and only we know what it means.

Later that week, we both go to talk to Kenny.

“Hey guys! What’s up? You feel like entertaining my neck of the woods with a childhood reunion of sorts? Where’s fatass?!”

Stan sighs, “That’s why we are here. To talk turkey about fat—-I mean Cartman.”

Kenny was putting some equation down in his computer but stopped.

“What about him?”

I started to speak but stopped. Stan nudged me and I looked at Kenny with a serious look.

“I feel like something is missing. I can’t explain what it is. I don’t know if it’s a what, a who, or a feeling I can’t understand. I am losing sleep. I can barely eat. I get flashes of color and sound, of people I never met. I think this has to do with… Cartman,” I let out all the bad air inside of me that feels like poison as I spill my guts to Kenny. “I know we had to travel in the past. I know something happened. I fucked up. Something about this timeline feels wrong. Can you help him?”

Stan gets more personal and kicks my leg. I growl at him but comply.

“I want to help him. Can you please talk some sense into him so I can understand this burning question in my head? I’m going effing crazy around here…” I finish and Kenny quizzically looks at me and then Stan.

“Quantum entanglement. Yup, that’s your problem right there. I can guess that you haven’t separated yourself entirely from the other side of that timeline you all went to… and these two have merged into inseparable realities. That’s why you..”

“Wait, so we are still stuck in the past?” Stan interrupts.

“No— it’s not..” Kenny starts to say.

“Ok, so bullshit science words aside, can we fix it?” I interrupt impatiently.

Kenny frowns. “Don’t know. What the hell do you all want me to do? Throw a frisbee in the air and see if your old dog Sparky comes back to life and catches it?”

Stan laughs nervously, “Yes?”

Kenny slaps his own forehead and I just chuckle frustratedly.

“I can try to soften him up but I make no promises.”

We both go to shake his hand separately but Kenny pulls us in for a group hug. It really does make me wish we were kids again for a moment.

“For you beautiful bastards I’ll do anything! But nothing is worth doing without knowing why…” Kenny winks at us and we frown. I freeze a little at his query.

“Maybe I want to see what was missing. Maybe if I help sober him up, get him clean, and help him get on his feet…” I start.

Kenny nods, “You can understand why everything feels wrong.”

“Like when I look at an attic I shiver, or when I’m at church I feel a depressing weight hit me,” I say.

“If Cartman were here, he’d make an Anne Frank joke about the attic and besmirch your Jewish heritage, I’m sure,” Kenny remarks.

“And then I’d call him fatass, and say fuck you…” I mumbled almost sadly.

Stan puts his hands on our shoulders, “Those were the good old days.”

That weekend I wait by the diner as I watch Kenny speak to Cartman. He looks worse for the wear. Homeless, drunk and miserable.

I grab an extra coffee for Cartman. I don’t even know what to say or if I should even do anything. I feel at odds with my own personal feelings of torment and knowing my old childhood friend is going through something similar or worse.

Kenny gives me a look, a thumbs up, and then leaves.

I go all in with this incredibly stupid smile, holding two coffees like we’re about to meet for lunch.

“Hey, Cartman, can we talk? I got you a coffee,” I hold up the coffee and he spits on the floor.

I wait for him to take the coffee but he doesn’t move. Is this what Kenny calls softening him up?! He looks more pissed than ever. He looks furious, actually, and I put the coffee down, taking a few steps back.

He knocks the coffee down and it spills on the ground unceremoniously.

“Oops.”

I frown but steady my breath. “Anything that you feel right now, including your anger and frustration, I totally get that. I don’t know what Kenny said but..”

“Kenny says fuck you guys. I say the same. Go away, Jew.”

“Ok, that’s fine. I am offering you to stay at my home. I would like to… I don’t know, actually… fuck it, I don’t think this is the best idea actually since you and I never really got along and you treated me shitty most of our so-called friendship…” I sigh, “just give this a chance. I’m willing to.”

His eyes look almost sobering as he seems to want to tell me something. The eyes waver from anger, to fear and then utter despair.

The sobering truth hits me as he tells me his answer:

“Fuck you.”

I am not giving up. “Anything else?”

“Fuck you?”

“Do you want to give this a shot? You’re not inspiring much confidence…”

“Fuck, fuck, fuckedty… fuck… fuck-fuck… you.”

I just shake my head and curse myself out for thinking this could work. I feel a sinking gasp hit my stomach with a huge slam, a cry that feels squashed, and a ghost that is starting to rise up to play with my head.

The ending that feels never ending. The bad feeling that never stops. The pain that comes out in trickles of time and mortality. And it all ends in a big old fuck you.