Monthly Choice Award Winner

My Life, I Author
by Maria Zach

I close the book and replace it upon the shelf and walk slowly down the stairs. My bare feet slap against the wood of the staircase. Taking a glass off the counter, I fill it with water from the tap. I take a sip. Another. It's eerily silent. Of course, it's silent - the children are at school.

I return my attention to the glass of water in my hand and realise I've been following the book word for word.

It gives a minute by minute account of my life until the day I die some twenty years into the future.

I throw away the rest of the water. I'm not going to let some book dictate my life, I decide.

I rush, my feet now pounding upon the staircase, and return to the kitchen with the book. Banging it down onto the counter, I skim feverishly to today's date — 28, September.

I'm supposed to be setting lunch now in anticipation of the kids. Then I get a bit of work done and afterwards go to the gym while the kids are at their homework. Basically the same routine I've been following for the past four years. As if on cue, the smell of burning paper pierces my nostrils. Oops! The pie. It's probably burnt to a crisp.

I slam the book closed and leave it upon the counter. I run up the stairs two at a time.

Opening my wardrobe, I take out a duffel bag. I stuff some clothes into it - two pairs of jeans, three or four blouses, a jacket and some rolled up underwear. I change into a fresh pair of trousers and pull on a freshly ironed blouse.

Swinging the duffel bag onto my shoulder, I hurry into the kids' room and shove a similar set of clothes for each of my two girls into a medium-sized haversack. As I heave the haversack onto my back, I hear the kitchen door jiggle open; the kids are back. There's a moment of doubt.

"Mom?" The clatter of crockery. They'll find the chars soon enough if I don't hurry. I pull my hair out of its messy bun and tie it up in an acceptably messy ponytail. Taking a deep breath, I start down the stairs.

Nyla is sitting slumped at the kitchen table. She raises her head as I come down the stairs and cocks one reddish blonde eyebrow. Viva, her long black hair hanging loose about her frame, finishes arranging the spoons and looks up to grin at me. The grin soon blossoms into a beam. I motion them toward the truck and throw the bags into the back of my Tundra.

Viva is bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"Mom, are you OK?" Nyla asks me, an uncertain tone.

"What's that nonsense, young lady?" I ask her. She shrugs and gets in the back.

I return to lock up. Viva's school bag is lying on the floor near the kitchen counter. I leave it there and snatch up the keys. Perhaps, it would be a good idea to take the book too. I toss it in with the bags and get into the driver's seat. Viva is already strapped into the passenger's.

As I turn the key the ignition, I eye Nyla in the rearview mirror. She's staring out the window. Her face is glum. Something has happened at school. I sigh — 14 year olds can be very hard on themselves; and on others.

She senses my gaze and turns to look at me in the mirror. "I'm hungry," she tells me, eyes of one with great suffering. I almost laugh out loud. 14 year olds can also give you well needed reality checks.

"Just 10 minutes. At the nearest drive-in," I promise her.

I turn off the drive and Viva chimes in, "Mom, where are we going?"

"I'm not sure sweetie. We'll take the seaside route and set up someplace we like before sundown. How's that sound?"

"Cool!" she responds.

I glance at her. The beam is still plastered to her face. This time I do laugh out loud. Thank God for sparkly eyed ten year olds.

Three hours later, we check in to the 'Turquoise Bay Guesthouse'. Viva and Nyla — school woes forgotten — run out to the beach to catch the last rays of the sun. I'm tempted to take the book along as I follow them. Plopping myself down on the sand, close enough for the waves to touch my feet, I grin as I watch them splash around.

I open the book to today's date once again. As I read over my day, the grin slides off my face. The book has updated itself!

I turn the pages and skim over the events of the next couple of days. Apparently I'm going to spend an extended weekend here and then return home on Sunday.

Humph, let's see about that! Whoever thought I was going to let myself be outsmarted by a book would have to think more than twice. 

I close the book and set it beside me. A strong gust of wind pushes the cover open and blows the pages back to the date. Horrified, I watch the words spell themselves out:

... outsmarted by a book would have to think more than twice...