That Was Yesterday

THAT WAS YESTERDAY
by: Petra
dedicated to: Peggy
August 1999

The sun had set almost two hours ago and the only light was produced by several street lights hanging above the empty road and by a few twinkling neon signs. The air was cool. Rollie pulled his denim jacket tighter and sighed. The place seemed so unfriendly tonight. As if Rollie had come to a strange town. What the bloody hell was he doing out here this late? He and Angie had been making another movie here, three hours north of New York City. They had been staying at Angie's high school friend's apartment. Rollie had been here two months ago but this part of town had changed in a way. He felt like being in a place he'd never seen before. He recognized the houses and the streets. Even the park with a lot of old trees was the same. But the atmosphere was absolutely different. Rollie no longer felt comfortable here.
Rollie glanced at his watch and sighed again. Angie and her friend Tessa were still at another high school mate's, talking about all the passed years they had not seen each other. Rollie had not wanted to go with Angie but now he quite regretted his decision. After an hour spent in Tessa's empty apartment he had gotten sick of it and had had to run away. He had been hanging around the streets he once knew, (well, he thought he had known them), but couldn't place them anymore. His mind kept playing a song he had heard before he left Tessa's place. He did not realize he was humming the song at first but when the humming turned into the lyrics he found himself singing the song quietly in the cold dark night.

See the devil he is so intense
See the devil go and change his name
What's the going price of innocence
It can't be the same

Rollie came to a halt and rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them. Really great song for this night, Rollie thought. Pretty accurate. He should start singing something happier. Hell, no, he shouldn't sing at all. Rollie started walking again. He went past a short lane full of garbage cans and looked up at the black sky. He could barely see two little stars, feebly glittering above his head. The town produced too much light so the stars were so hard to see. Maybe the two stars did not exist anymore. Just their light approached the planet to please the eyes of the walking little spot down there on earth. Rollie did not really think he was visible from the dizzying heights of the universe.
Somewhere not far away from Rollie, a truck rolled through the town with a clattering sound. It reminded him of road trains home in Australia. The thought made him feel weird. Like he was losing his foothold. God, what was it about him tonight?
He passed another lane and the intense smell from there made him feel sick. His stomach felt like it was being torn to many little pieces. Rollie got faster, feeling the coldness of the air inside his lungs. The buzz in his ears became unbearable. Another truck cut the night with a cluttering sound. Rollie swung his hands toward his ears, trying to stop the terrible sound from cutting into his brain. His hearing was so sharp now. He could hear the chain-like sound though the truck had already gone and Rollie was covering the ears with his hands. The world started to turn too fast. The slowly rising horror of the place got stronger. The night seemed to be alive. Rollie, still covering his ears, began to stumble for his present home...

Tessa opened the door to her apartment and Angie stepped inside, holding an envelope full of photos she had taken and intended to show to Lisa. But they hadn't gotten around to it. Time had seemed to pass too quickly. Four hours, always so slow while being at school, had flown away real fast. Angie hadn't realized it was passing at all. She had thought it had been a minute but in fact it had been an hour.
"Look," Angie said showing Tessa her right hand. "I've lost my friendship band." Just a stripe of whiter skin could be seen in a place where her friendship band used to be.
"You'll find it," Tessa assured her.
A dim light shone from the living room and the radio aired a song.
"We're back," Angie called.
No reply.
Tessa took her shoes off and threw them to the corner with a sigh of relief. "I hate them. I'll get rid of them right away."
"Rollie?" Angie said, walking slowly toward the living room.
"Guess he's sleeping," Tessa said, a bit stunned by Angie's sudden startle.
Angie stopped at the door and looked around the room. The floor lamp was lit and the radio was on. But Rollie was gone. His jacket was gone too. The curtain was fluttering in the slight draught coming through the open window.
"Rollie!" Angie yelled again though she knew it was senseless. Rollie was obviously not here.
Tessa slipped past Angie into the room. "Where'd he go?" she asked in bewilderment. "He took my spare keys."
This was really weird. Angie shivered. Rollie wouldn't have left without leaving a note. There was evidently none. Angie bent down, trying to find it lying on the floor, swept by draught.
A sudden stroke at the entrance door made them both turn back. It was a stroke, not a knock. As if something was thrust against the door. Angie and Tessa stood stunned, unable to move. Then a clink could be heard and the door flew open. Angie jerked. The door swung between her and the door frame so she could not see who stood there, five steps from her. But the clink... It must have been keys. Rollie!
Angie moved closer. "Rollie, where have you..." She stiffened and her voice trailed off. She stared at her boss leaning against the door frame with his head bent backwards, and panting. His eyes were closed and he was all soaked with his own sweat. His jacket and pants were scattered with a few dirty spots.
"Rollie, what happened?" Angie asked, pulling him inside and closing the door. "You look terrible."
Rollie opened his eyes, stretching his right hand to find the needful prop of the wall. Angie backed. Rollie's eyes glowed like he had a fever.
"I've been jogging," Rollie gushed out almost inaudibly. His hand sank as he did not need anything to hold to any longer.
"Jogging?" Angie exclaimed incredulously. "You look like you were running for your life!"
"It's cold outside," Rollie said as if it was supposed to explain everything, and went to the bathroom, locking the door behind himself.
Angie looked at Tessa. Tessa shrugged. Angie went to the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee. She really needed it right now. Rollie did look like all the hell hounds in the world were on his track! He could pretend nothing had ever happened to his heart's content but Angie knew better. Tessa turned the radio off and the only sound remaining was the tapping of water of the shower Rollie was taking.

Angie turned on to her left side and closed her eyes tightly. She knew it would not work. She wouldn't fall asleep. No. Not now that she could hear the stupid wall clock, hung on the wall right above her head, ticking. The living room was bathed with the street light squeezing through the gap between drawn window-curtains. The line of light was running across the room. From time to time a car rolling down the street covered the line, making new ones with its head lights, running them across the ceiling.
Angie opened her eyes and turned on to her back. The ceiling was full of creepy shadows. The wall clock kept ticking, dividing time into short moments of silence. Angie closed her eyes, thinking about any possibilities for her to close the ears as well.
Angie wondered how Rollie could have managed to sleep here the nights before. Tonight she had made him sleep in the little room she had used since they came here. Rollie hadn't said much during their late dinner. He'd stared off in the distance almost all the time, chewing a bite forever before he swallowed it. He'd looked tired and, in a way, worried. Then he'd left his dinner almost untouched and said he was going to sleep. That had been when Angie had told him to use her room.
Angie sighed. Rollie hadn't seemed to have any strength left to object. He'd just thought a moment, shrugged and left the kitchen. Later on, Angie had gone to check on him but she had been able to see some strands of Rollie's hair only. The rest of him had been hidden under the blanket.
Angie turned again. The strange feeling something bad was going to happen was here with her, assuring her she wouldn't sleep well tonight.

An endless electronic buzz from a distant place threw Angie from a dream into reality. A kind of confusion of the mind slowly disappeared. She stretched her hands and after an unpleasant crack in her shoulders she sat up. The buzz was still heard. It was kind of strange. It had always been Rollie who had to wake her up because she had never been able to hear any alarm clocks. And the clock was in the little room where Rollie had slept tonight. Angie blinked and stood up. If Rollie had gotten up in the middle of the night and was now somewhere out there looking for his nightmares, she'd kill him. Angie marched to the door leading to the little room, and opened them. She heaved a sigh once she saw Rollie sleeping in bed, tightly wrapped in the blanket. She turned the alarm clock off and checked Rollie's forehead for a fever. Rollie jerked awake, raised his head a bit, turned his face to Angie and squinted at her. Then he moved his eyes around the room. Rollie seemed confused but at least he did not have a fever.
"Rol, get up. We have to get to work," Angie said.
"I don't want to," Rollie said in a spoiled-kid way, and his head sank back at the pillow. He always used this tone to tease Angie. Everything seemed to be back in the beaten tracks. Angie's worries disappeared. Perhaps Rollie really had been bored yesterday and had gone jogging. He might have run too far and too fast.
"Rol, get up," Angie said, still in the patient way.
Rollie did not even raise his nose from the pillow. "What am I doing in THIS room, anyway?" he mumbled into the pillow.
Angie made no reply at first. A lot of thoughts crossed her mind but they were too fast to be caught.
"You looked ill yesterday so I let you sleep in here. The room is quiet, you know." Rollie's eyes stared at the wall behind the bed. "Will you get up now?"
Rollie blinked and turned his head to Angie. "What time is it?"
"Almost eight."
"You're right," Rollie exclaimed. "It's time to get some work done."

The moviemaking was going smoothly. The director seemed to have his day though one of the stuntmen hadn't come yet. Angie would call the day a blast... if she didn't have to worry about Rollie. Once in a while he made a joke, grinning like a madman, but just a minute later he would stare at nothing, scratching his face, and make aimless moves with his fingers. When his distant eyes returned from a journey to an inner world, Rollie started to blink fast as if he had just waken up, and resumed working.
Angie also had to speak with the director about all his demands because Rollie did not seem to care. He was doing the work automatically, like a machine, and Angie did not want the director to know that Rollie was lost in a kind of daydreaming instead of thinking about his work. Anyway, Angie knew Rollie always watched them talk.
When Rollie asked her for the third time what time it was, Angie had already gotten sick of his strange behavior.
"Rollie, what's wrong with you?" Angie asked bluntly to hide her worries. "Don't you have your own watch?" She did not intend to talk about any watches but somehow she had to start.
"Nothing. No," Rollie answered both of the questions at a time. He did not raise his head from his work. They had worked on a scene of a dragon damaging a city today. The city was a smaller model of New York City.
Angie remained quiet for a moment.
"I don't get it," she heard Rollie speaking half to her, half to himself.
"What?" Angie asked.
Rollie fidgeted and made a face. "I don't remember taking the watch off my wrist," he said, a shadow of confusion in his voice. "But I simply couldn't find it at Tessa's this morning."
Angie sighed. "Did you look in the bathroom? Maybe you took it off yesterday before taking your shower."
Rollie's look was blank. Angie was not sure if he had heard her at all. A second later Rollie's face turned back to Angie and he asked, "Wasn't this scene supposed to be shot on Wednesday?"
Angie stared at him in bewilderment. "It is Wednesday, Rollie."
His look turned blank again, lost in the maze of the new confusion.
"Right." Rollie's voice was husky now. It sounded like rusty nails in a can. "Yesterday we did the storm passage that was scheduled for Tuesday. Right. Today's Wednesday." He stared at nothing all the time he spoke. Then he return to working again.
Angie stared at him for a while. She was now sure something was wrong with Rollie.

Angie drove the van back to Tessa's. Rollie sat in the passenger's seat and played with the dragon he had made for the movie.
"Hey Ange," he said and grinned. "You know why skeletons can't practice bungee jumping?"
Angie rolled her eyes. She wondered where he had all his jokes from. "I am sure you'll tell me."
"Take a guess."
Angie tried to think something smart out but it was a too stupid question to find an answer so soon.
"Don't know. They're more clever now?"
Rollie grinned again and placed the dragon on the dashboard. "Try another one."
"Come on, Rol." She knew this cheery moment would not last long. In the last fifteen minutes Rollie had made three jokes and twice he'd stared out the window with a gloomy face, humming an unknown song. Sometimes she could hear a word or two of the lyrics.
"You have a great time yesterday?" Rollie asked from nowhere.
"Sure but why can't skeletons do bungee jumping?"
Rollie turned his face and looked out the windshield. "'Cos they don't have the guts for it."
Angie burst into laughter but then she realized Rollie was not laughing. He stared at some invisible thing out there and in his eyes could be seen more than a common confusion. Angie was sure she had never seen him like this before. He looked like a little boy who had just found out the world wasn't the way he had thought.
The sun was still high and it was warm outside. Angie stopped the van at the parking lot ahead of the town park.
"I need a walk," she explained to Rollie when he turned to her with a question in his eyes. "Going with me?"
Rollie got out of the van slowly and with visible reluctance. "I'd rather go back to Tessa's," he said, almost whispering. "I don't feel like walking at all."
Angie grabbed his hand and pulled him to the park. The trees were rustling quietly.
"You don't like parks or anything?" Angie asked, decided to find out what uneased Rollie even if she had to wrest it from him.
"Angie..."
Angie turned to Rollie and stared up right at his face. "Rol, what's wrong?"
Rollie's eyes were moving aimlessly around the park, he was swallowing hard and his forehead was wet with sweat. "Nothing," he said. His voice was trembling a little. "Just wanna go home." His eyes were still shooting from one place to another, restlessly moving around. He swallowed again. Not only was his voice trembling, his whole body seemed to shiver with cold. But it wasn't cold at all!
"Rollie," Angie sounded terribly scared though she tried hard not to show it. But she was scared to death. Now she was sure it was not a good idea to go to the park. Angie pushed Rollie a bit toward a bench and coaxed him to sit down. She sat by his side and watched him bury his face in his palms. What the hell had happened to Rollie yesterday? He looked like he had gone through hell.
"Rollie," Angie said softly and stroked his hair. "Rollie, what happened to you? Why'd you go out yesterday?"
Rollie's hands sank. Angie could see his oddly empty eyes staring at the ground.
"I don't know," he said. His voice sounded odd too.
Angie frowned. "What...what do you mean you don't know?"
Rollie shook his head desperately. Then he turned to Angie. "I think I lost my yesterday, Angie."
Angie stared at him like he was crazy. Insane. Out of his mind. She opened her mouth several times as if about to say something but she was not able to speak. Rollie did not say a thing either. Angie's thoughts started to run like wild horses.
"Umm," she said after a while of silence. "I don't think I get what you mean by losing yesterday." Her voice sounded like sandpaper.
Rollie glanced at Angie. The short look was enough for Angie to feel like being dragged to a ravine by a wild torrent of water. For a while she felt like she was sitting beside a stranger. This exhausted and scared man could not be Rollie. No way.
"When you woke me up I didn't remember yesterday," Rollie explained. His voice was oddly low. "Actually, I thought today was the yesterday. I thought it was Tuesday today."
"It happens," Angie said, trying to convince herself nothing was as bad as it looked.
"You can think it's a different day," Rollie almost yelled. "But you still remember what happened the day before. If you weren't dead drunk. And you remember something anyway."
Angie did not say a thing. Her throat was squeezed and she did not know what to say.
"Then, on the set, I remembered shooting the storm scene yesterday. So Tuesday had to be yesterday. But the rest of Tuesday was just a static in my mind. I can't recall a second of it. Like it never was. I don't remember you telling me to sleep in the little room. I don't remember any showers. I don't even know you've ever left for the meeting with your high school mate." He paused. "I only know you were supposed to go there on Tuesday."
Angie stared off in the distance. This was really sick. What on earth could happen yesterday? She moved her eyes toward Rollie. He looked at her with a little relief in his eyes.
"We returned at midnight," Angie said and fidgeted. "You weren't there and about five minutes later you came running, looking terrible." She paused. "Maybe it'll help you to remember?"
Rollie shook his head. He looked at his left wrist. "I also lost my watch and got this bruise," he said and turned the inside part of his forearm to Angie. Angie glanced at the bruise. It was not big but she did not mean to see it any longer than she had to.
"Maybe if I find my watch, I'll find the time I've lost," Rollie said. Angie did not even try to understand what he meant. "It's something about this place," Rollie continued and looked around. Now that he spilled his guts to Angie he regained his level head. "I am sure."
"You mean the park?" Angie asked.
Rollie frowned, looking at the trees ahead of them. "No. Not really." He paused. "Not just the park. I mean...um...it's somewhere around here." He turned to Angie. "I need your help."

Angie drove the van through the streets around Tessa's place and Rollie looked out of his side window, trying to remember. Most streets were formed by old warehouses made of bricks. Angie stopped on a street lined with iron gates and stairways leading to the flat roofs of the warehouses. On a wall on their left a picture of a green creature showed its snow white sharp teeth.
"Does this ring a bell?" Angie asked, waving her hand toward the graffiti.
A sound of sirens cut the sleepy quiet of the town. Blue and red glows started to dance on the wall down the street and a second later Rollie and Angie could glimpse an ambulance rushing somewhere, passing the street they were on.
Angie looked at Rollie, waiting for his answer, her hands still on the wheel. Rollie stared at the end of the street as if he could still see the ambulance.
"Rollie!" she called him back to earth.
Rollie moved his eyes to the green creature on the wall. He was not sure if he had ever seen it.
"No," he said and slid down the seat. "I don't think it's worth a thing."
Angie set the van in motion again, turning on to the next street. Traffic was very heavy here. She had to drive carefully. Angie could not drive too slowly because she would bother the other drivers. And if she drove too fast, Rollie wouldn't be able to recall his memories. The van rolled past a sidewalk lined with the clean glass of shop windows. Rollie stared at the buildings, his thoughts drifting somewhere far away. He seemed to forget about the world. Rollie started to hum a song again. Angie glanced at him. The same tune sounded repeatedly. Angie was quite sure it was the same song Rollie had hummed earlier this day. Sometimes the hum turned into pieces of words.
"Rollie, what's that song?" Angie asked and turned on to a lateral street.
Rollie blinked and looked at Angie. "Song?" he asked, puzzled.
"Yeah," Angie nodded her head. "The one you keep humming."
A boy rode a bike past the van in the opposite direction. He seemed to be interested in their vehicle. He made a U-turn and followed them.
"I wasn't aware of doing that," Rollie said, looking at the blue house on his right.
"Perhaps it's the song, Rollie," Angie said and stopped the van. The boy rode on along an excavation and disappeared behind the corner.
Rollie turned his head to Angie. "Perhaps the song is what?" He sounded a bit uneasy. He straightened up in his seat and looked through the windshield.
"The key to yesterday," Angie replied. "You hum it every time you try to remember yesterday. Maybe if you remember the song, you'll know what happened."
Rollie remained silent for a while, scratching the back of his left hand. The sky was getting dark and the sun was almost hidden behind high buildings.
"I don't know what song I hummed."
Angie bit her lip, trying to find out how to help Rollie. "I am sure I don't know the song," she said after a while. "But I could try to hum it for you."
Rollie tried to object but Angie started to repeat the melody.
"I don't know the song," Rollie blurted out though Angie did not get very far. She was sure Rollie had not listened to her at all.
"Try to concentrate." Angie did not mean to give up. She started the tune again but Rollie interrupted her, still staring through the windshield. "I said I didn't know the song." He crossed his arms.
Angie stopped humming and looked at Rollie. Yellow lights warning drivers of an excavation on the road were dancing on his pale face. He looked tired. His eyes were blinking too often and his fingers were moving restlessly. Rollie did not want to find his yesterday anymore. Angie was pretty sure. Perhaps he had convinced himself he wanted to but in fact, he wasn't keen on knowing at all. Now that he probably realized something terrible must have happened since he'd forgotten it, he wasn't likely to cooperate, finding comfort in the unknown past. He had just lost a few hours, not all of his memories!
"Okay Rollie. We're going back." Angie backed the van and then drove back to Tessa's. The tension in Rollie's face disappeared. If just for a moment.

The street was empty. Above Rollie's head a street light was blinking in the darkness. The milky mist rolled in the light breeze across the road and veiled the garbage lying on the roadway. In the distance, sirens were screaming, making the dark even creepier. A neon sign sputtered over a metal door on Rollie's left. The night lived its own life.
Rollie did not really know why he had gone out. In fact, he did not want to be here. He did not care what his yesterday had been like anymore. The thought of knowing was scary.
A song playing from one of the buildings around could be heard on the street. Rollie stopped and raised his head. It seemed as if the song was coming from the sky. The mist almost covered the walls so in the blinking light, bathing the walls with a yellowish glow, only parts of buildings could be seen. Rollie ducked his head. He'd gotten sick of seeing all the cracked paint, bare red bricks, empty darkened windows and rugged edges of shattered glass panes. Most windows looked like a blind man's eyes staring into the darkness.
Rollie remained staring at his working shoes. He had worn them on his bare feet. Rollie thought it was weird. Had he intended to hurt his feet or something? He glanced at his watch but he could see just the skin on his left wrist. Sure, he'd lost his watch. How could he have forgotten?
He took two steps forward and stiffened. The song was now very loud. It echoed in the corners created by the buildings that jutted out into the street. Suddenly the song stopped and Rollie could hear Angie call his name. She had probably realized he had gone and had decided to find him.
"Angie, I am right here," he called into the night. The mist did not let him see anyone coming.
Angie kept calling his name. Her voice seemed to come from all directions. It was hard to tell her voice from its echoes. The voice was changing. First it was a call but then it sounded frightened instead. Rollie stood in the mist, breathing quickly, trying to spot Angie. He was afraid to take a step forward because it could be the wrong direction. The song sounded again. Quietly. Softly. Angie's scared voice turned into a long, heartbreaking scream of horror.
Rollie was turning around. His blood burned in his veins and the fast beating heart seemed to stop for a moment.
"Angie!" he screamed, blinking rapidly, trying to make his eyes see through the mist and dark. The blinking light got dimmer, turned off and never came back to life. "Angie!" Rollie cried out desperately into the unfriendly darkness. The shattered windows seemed to laugh at Rollie. "Angie!" Rollie shouted. The desperation turned into pure horror. Rollie closed his eyes not to see the laughing windows.
"Rollie," he heard Angie's voice calling him through the scream. But it was different. As if it came from another world. From the other side? Was it Angie at all?
Rollie opened his eyes to find himself sit on the couch, crushing Angie's hand and trembling.
"It's okay now. Just a bad dream," he heard Angie say. Rollie released her hand and looked around in confusion.
Angie pushed his wet strands back from his forehead and said, "Man, you scared me. You screamed like you were being murdered. Tessa almost got a heart attack."
Rollie rubbed his eyes and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He lowered his legs from the couch and sat back. Angie sat down by his side and held his hand. "Are you okay, Rollie?" she asked.
Rollie nodded slowly after a while of thinking. "You know, Ange," he said and paused.
"What?" Angie asked and looked at his pale face.
Rollie shook his head. "Nothing. I just..." his voice trailed off.
Angie let him gather his thoughts.
"Think I won't be able to fall asleep," Rollie finished his sentence, looking at something over the darkened window.
"Come on, Rol," Angie said, patting him on the shoulder. "A bad dream won't scare you, will it." She stood up. "I'll bring you some juice and when the remainders of the dream vanish, you'll sleep in a minute."
Angie went out to the kitchen.
"Yeah," Rollie muttered. "If they ever will."
"You say something?" he heard Angie say in the kitchen.
"No," he whispered. Rollie moved his eyes restlessly around the room. It no longer felt friendly. Suddenly it was cold, dark and strange. Rollie stood up, pulled his pajama pants up a bit, and went in the kitchen, feeling the unpleasant draught from the window on his naked shoulders. He sat in the chair. Angie placed a glass of juice before him and took the next seat.
"So what was your dream about," Angie asked, not knowing what else to say.
Rollie took a breath, decided to say it all. But he couldn't. There was not much left of the dream in his memories. He still remembered the horror he had felt and knew the dream had had something to do with Angie. But that was all that remained. Rollie sat staring at the white stripe of skin on Angie's sun-tanned right hand and swallowed. He raised his eyes and said, "Angie, I have to find out what happened yesterday. I mean on Tuesday. I feel something bad'll happen if I don't recall all the stuff."
Angie looked at him quietly, noticing tension in his voice and face. "What are you going to do?" she asked.
Rollie shrugged. He didn't know.
"You think the dream had something to do with yesterday?" Angie asked.
"Don't know," Rollie shrugged again. "There's not much left of yesterday here." He pointed at his head.
"No, Rollie," Angie disagreed. "Yesterday's all in your head but you can't get it out."
Rollie sipped his juice. "Does it make a difference?" he asked, putting the glass back on the table.
"Sure," Angie said. "If it wasn't in your head, you would never remember what happened."
Rollie made a face, took another sip of juice and muttered, "Who says I ever will?"
Angie tried to think of something encouraging to cheer him up when she realized Rollie was grinning. Face number five - I'm having you on, Ange. That was what she had called the grin.
"Rollie!" Angie exclaimed. "Can't you be serious just for a while?"
Rollie felt well now that the horror of his dream disappeared into thin air and that he was sleepy again. All his problems drifted away, probably to the world of tomorrow. They were no longer bothering his mind tonight.
"Once I persisted to be serious for five minutes but everybody then thought I was no fun so I dropped it."
Angie rolled her eyes. "I see I can go to sleep now," she said. "You don't need my company anymore."
"Night, Ange," Rollie said and yawned.
"Night, Rol. You better go to bed now too."
"If I remember where it is," Rollie said, bursting into laughter.
Angie shot a glance at him and left the kitchen.

The next morning was chilly and unpleasant. The cool air was getting into the bones. A constant drizzle was falling down from the gray clouds in the sky. Rollie was slid in the passenger's seat of the van, fighting the drowsiness he felt. It was very early and the sky was so dark that it was hard not to give in to falling asleep.
"I told you to go to bed right away," Angie said, squinting at him.
"Oh, you're so smart," Rollie said, crossed his arms and closed his eyes. "Did you sleep in the library?"
"I slept at least but what did YOU do?"
Rollie yawned. "I really intended to go to bed right away," he assured Angie.
"You really did?" Angie said sarcastically.
Rollie half opened his eyes and squinted at Angie. "But then I looked out the window in the living room and saw this funny neon sign that changed every five minutes. It wasn't my fault there were so many different notes and pictures on the board."
"Rollie," Angie started before he could continue. "Do you hear what you're saying?"
Rollie blinked. "How do you mean?"
"You were watching a neon sign for god knows how long like a little kid that got a new toy?"
Rollie grinned. "But I can't see anything like that from my window at home."
Angie sighed. It was senseless to speak to Rollie while he was sleepy.
"I wonder how you'll manage to work today," she said.
Rollie closed his eyes and slid down the seat even more. His long legs bumped against something lying under the dashboard but Rollie did not seem to give a damn.
"No worries, Ange, I'll have the casting director star me as a deadman."
"Fine. Who'll do the effects?"
Rollie opened his eyes and looked at Angie in surprise. "Well, you!"
Angie glanced at him. Then she turned the van on to the place of shooting. The van stopped.
"So," she said, looking at Rollie, "you assume I'll do all the work and you'll sleep all day long pretending to be a deadman."
"Sue me," Rollie said and winked at Angie.
"No, I'll kill you," Angie said and threw her jacket at him.
Rollie raised his hands and the jacked slid down harmlessly.
"That's not the way it'll work today, boy," Angie said, grabbing the jacket lying on Rollie's knees. "You'll work and I'll watch you."
Rollie blinked. "Not bloody likely," he said and got out of the van, staring at Angie's back as she marched toward the director. Next he slammed the door and followed her. His smile faded. Though he had been joking he did not feel like laughing at all. The reason of his sitting up was not exactly the same as he had told Angie. When he had peered out the window he'd seen milky mist rolling in the night. Something from his nightmare had been suddenly back, worrying his mind. It had reminded him of the fact he wouldn't be able to get closer to the secret of yesterday if he hadn't started torturing his mind to get the hidden memories released.

At one o'clock in the afternoon, Angie and Rollie ended up at a diner. The shooting had been closed for the day because of the weather. The drizzle had turned into a heavy rain earlier this day. The raindrops were tapping on the pane of glass leading to the wet street. Everybody out there was tightly wrapped in their coats and jackets.
Angie looked at Rollie who was just stirring his lunch with a fork instead of eating. His eyes stared at something invisible behind Angie.
"Rollie, I think the eggs are already stirred enough. What about eating them?"
Rollie moved the plate toward Angie without looking at her. His sight did not seem to return to reality at all. Angie glared at him but it happened to be senseless since Rollie was somewhere far away.
"Rollie," she said loudly to call him back to earth. "I didn't mean to eat them myself. You eat them!"
Rollie looked at Angie with odd emptiness in his eyes. He blinked. He wanted to say something but his vocal chords produced just a husky sound. Rollie cleared his throat. "I'm trying to remember," he said eventually.
Angie sized him up. "You can't eat and think at a time?" She did not want to be mean but Rollie had not eaten yet today. In the morning he had been too sleepy and now too distracted.
"You're not helping me at all," Rollie muttered and put some eggs into his mouth. "Content now?" he mumbled through the bite.
Angie remained silent. Rollie swallowed.
"I don't remember Tuesday but I remember some fragments of my dream. Not much to speak of but it's a start," Rollie said and started to stir the eggs again.
Angie moved her eyes between Rollie's face and plate until he noticed it, looked at his stirring hand and stopped it.
"There was a street with some big old buildings. And two or three of them stuck into the street."
Angie sighed. "That makes it easier. Say, three street out of five." She paused. Rollie did not say anything, he just stared at his plate. "Rol, we can go look around the streets but I don't want you to expect too much of that."
They left the diner and walked down the street, leaving the van at the parking lot. The rain had stopped. Rollie was unusually silent. They went through several streets lined with stores and then they got to the quarter of warehouses. All the streets seemed so terribly similar. The same scrawled walls, empty cartons and boxes lying on the ground, yellowish newspapers rolling in the wind. The same metal stairways stuck to the walls, the same windows nailed with bare wooden boards and windows with dirty glass.
Rollie sighed. Occasional drops of rain would fall on his shoulders and head but Rollie did not seem to notice it.
"Rollie," Angie said. "We should go back. It is starting to rain again."
Rollie nodded reluctantly and followed Angie back to the van. He cursed his mind for being so stubborn.

"You going somewhere?" Rollie asked.
Angie had borrowed Tessa's loose black pants and multicolored T-shirt, and she tried to decide what shoes to wear. "And what do you think?" Angie said. Tessa burst into laughter seeing Rollie move his eyes between Angie's feet and face.
"May I know where you're going?" Rollie asked politely, staring at the ceiling and making funny faces. Tessa screamed with laughter again.
The day was slowly ending.
"Kevin Mitchell asked me to have dinner with him tonight," Angie answered. "And yes, I am sure he said dinner." She finally decided what shoes to take.
Rollie blinked. "The director?" he burst out.
"How do I look?" Angie asked, turning to Tessa.
"Great," Tessa said, nodding her head. "You can go."
"Angie," Rollie started but she interrupted him, "Rollie, I'm going! Don't try to talk me away."
"I wouldn't dare," Rollie said and grinned.
"Tessa," Angie turned to her friend. "Take good care of him. Don't let him run around looking for his demons." Then she turned to Rollie. "Rollie, be good, will you."
Rollie moved his eyes to the root of his nose. "Okay, mommie," he said in a high and soft voice.
Angie left and Rollie turned the TV on. He went through all the channels but did not find anything interesting. He ended up watching Discovery.
"Rollie," Tessa said.
Rollie bent his head backwards in the armchair. "What?" Tessa upside down was in a way more interesting than the story about polar bears on TV.
"I'm going to my friend Amy. She lives two stories above me."
Rollie blinked and turned in the armchair to face Tessa without her being upside down.
"I'll be back within an hour. Please, don't go away otherwise Angie will kill me."
Rollie nodded. "Okay."
Tessa left and Rollie turned back to the TV set. He watched the polar bears for another five minutes without perceiving them at all. Then he turned the TV off, rested his head on the back of the armchair and looked at the darkened screen. He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. What was he going to do?
Rollie stood up and approached the window. He leaned against the ledge and watched the street life - people rushing home or to reach a place, common cars, fast sports cars and clumsy vans, a dirty street dog sniffing around garbage cans, a group of children shouting and running around, a young girl with shopping bags in her hands, a blind man checking his way with the white stick he held... Rollie turned his eyes to a motorbike standing across the street but the blind man drew his sight back. He watched him walk down the street, eyes fixed on the stick almost dancing on the pavement. Rollie closed his eyes for a better imagination of the blind men's world. It felt dizzy... but only for a little while. Next Rollie saw a building with shattered windows, ragged edges gazing at him like a blind man's eyes, taunting. The building from his dream. Not a house with nailed boards across its windows, not a house with dirty glass - the building with shattered glass was the one he should look for.
Rollie opened his eyes abruptly. The blind man had gone. Looking at the street, Rollie suddenly knew it would not be easy to find the building. It must have been one of many houses with rugged edges instead of compact glass. So he better start looking for it now.
Rollie hesitated for a moment. He shouldn't leave because if Angie found out he would be as good as dead. However, he had to find his lost hours. They were the key to something that Rollie's mind dreaded recalling.
He put a note on the fridge, fighting his conscience, grabbed his denim jacket and dashed for the entrance door.
Outside the streets were getting wet. It had started to drizzle again. Rollie raised the collar and dragged his head a bit between his shoulders. Rollie headed for the park. He assumed the building had to be somewhere around it. The soles of his shoes squelched in puddles on the sidewalk. Rollie thrust his hands into the pockets of his jacket and sped up. Trickles of cool water ran down his forehead and neck. The sky was gray, turning black as the sun set. Wet strands of Rollie's hair fell into his eyes. He pushed them back. The streets were almost empty. Rollie stopped under a porch over a shop, waiting for the drizzle to stop. After five minutes he gave it up and ran across the street to hide in an arcade. Three boys were lost in their games, not even noticing someone stand beside them. The drizzle did not seem to be about to stop.
Rollie sighed and went on past some stores toward the park. Little raindrops tapped on the trees' leaves. When the leaves became too heavy, they bent and the water fell down on the ground with a loud smack. Rollie came to a halt and turned around irresolutely. Which direction was the right one? Which of the streets around was hiding the secret of a lost yesterday? The yesterday that was not a yesterday anymore. However, Rollie had decided to call the day Yesterday.
Rollie proceeded toward the back gate of the park. He didn't know which way to go but somewhere he had to start anyway. The drizzle stopped suddenly. The sky was dark gray with a few reddish stripes over the western part of town.
Rollie dodged three drunk punks and entered the world of dark corners and broken street lights. Steam was slowly rising from the sewers. Rollie raised his head and peered at the gloomy windows above him. No, this wasn't the right street. Rags of vinyl were fluttering on the window frames that had seen better days.
Rollie went on to the next street, so very same as the previous one. The buildings seemed to have been left to fall apart. Shattered glass lay on the pavement and cracked under Rollie's shoes. But from the frames no shards stuck.
Another two streets were lit by a few sodium lamps, sputtering in the growing dark. With a loud roar a truck drove through a near street. The panes of glass around started to shake. All metal gates on the two streets were lock with padlocks. The warehouses here were obviously still in use.
Rollie stopped at the beginning of another street. He moved his eyes between the buildings on his left and the ones on his right. Rollie stared dazed at the rugged edges sticking from the cracked window frames. But it was not just the windows. The entire street seemed to exhale threats and evil. All the bare bricks, yellowish newspapers lying along the basement windows, and broken lights terrified anybody who dared come closer. This had to be the street from Rollie's dream. He knew that because he could hear the forgotten song from every broken window. It was deafening his ears and making him dizzy. Not only the song but also the re-found memories, finding their way back to Rollie's mind. Through the throb of blood in his temples, Rollie could hear the song that had found its way out of his subconscious, releasing the secret of Yesterday.

See the devil he is so intense
See the devil go and change his name
What's the going price of innocence
It can't be the same

...The noise and strange dizziness died down away abruptly. The world stopped turning madly and Rollie did not feel sick anymore. He stopped and let his hands sink slowly. The old town was suddenly back.
Rollie stood still in bewilderment. While running away from tonight's madness, he got to a street he did not remember seeing before. It looked shabby and unfriendly. The ground was scattered with pieces of glass from the shattered windows above him.
Rollie shook his head. Either he or the world had had to turn insane tonight. He could not find out what had made him so sick before. The song he had heard at Tessa's earlier this day returned to his mind again.

See the devil he is so intense

Rollie heard a muffled voice. It came from a warehouse down the street. He did not understand what the voice was saying but it sounded creepy, though it was nothing but a distant whisper.

See the devil go and change his name

Rollie approached a metal door leading to a warehouse. The voice seemed to come out of it. Over the door an old board hung but the letters were too broken to be read. Rollie went up the three stairs before the door.

What's the going price of innocence

A croaking laughter made its way to the street. It was very distant as if coming through a lot of walls. It stopped in a second.

It can't be the same

Rollie turned back to make his way home when he froze in the middle of a step. He heard a different voice, a scared to death voice screaming something he didn't recognized. When it stopped, the song no longer bothered his mind. But something else did.
Rollie returned to the door and listened for a while. There was a silence inside. Long, almost endless silence. Even the night sounds died. Rollie pressed the handle and opened the door. The hot air inside the warehouse squeezed into his nose and lungs. Rollie closed the door behind himself. He stood in the darkness, surrounded by even darker shadows exhaling heat right at his face and the entire body. The first voice sounded somewhere ahead of Rollie. His eyes started to adapt so the dark no longer looked that black. Rollie realized it was rather easy to see. He stood in an empty hall with a lot of dirt on the floor. On the opposite end of the hall a heap of wooden boards lay one over another. By his left there was a metal stairway leading up to a catwalk made from screwed together metal squares with sets of small bars. The main path led straight, went through the back wall and continued in a next room. The other path started in the middle of the hall. It led to the left from the main path in right angle into the darkness. The paths were lined with metal banister constituted of three long horizontal bars divided with short vertical ones every six feet.
Rollie went up. The metallic sound echoed in the hall. Rollie tried to tread on the steps carefully but still he thought the noise was too loud. He held on to the handrail until his hand touched an oily stuff. Rollie stopped and looked at his right palm. The oil was transparent and sticky. Rollie wiped it on his jacket and went on. He could hear only the first voice now, but better than before. In the middle of the catwalk he hesitated for a while and pricked his ears. The voice seemed to sound from the left. Rollie turned left. A dim light was going out of a next room. Rollie went through a passage in the wall. Now he could go either off the catwalk or turn to right and continue past the wall to another passage. The light and voice seemed to come from the next passage. The voice was now loud but it was still hard to understand. As if the voice came from a box or something.
"You......hard......see." It made no sense.
"You're crazy," the second voice said. It sounded hoarse, uneasy.
Then a laughter sounded. It rose to dizzy heights of insanity. Rollie felt a shiver going down his spine at the sound. It froze his blood. When the laughter died away, Rollie could hear a sound similar to sizzling accompanied with a groan.
"Movies are great," Rollie heard while going through the passage. "But how does it feel when it is real?" The voice was strange, distorted.
Rollie came to a halt. The catwalk continued for three feet and then another stairway led down. By the foot of the stairway on the right a kind of operator's room was situated. Its flat roof reached to the two third of the staircase. The upper half of its walls were made of glass. The front wall led to the hall so Rollie could not see it. A lamp shone from there and illuminated a frame chained to a hook hanging from the hall's ceiling over its head. Red wires were stuck to the chains. The figure seemed to be unconscious since its head hung forward. The light was not strong enough. Rollie was only able to say the frame was male. He went down, bent a bit. The handrail felt cold in his hands. When he was low enough to see into the operator's room, Rollie peered inside. He could see a man standing in there. He wore a cap and black T-shirt. It was all Rollie could see of the man. He stood at a console with a lot of different buttons. On the left there were machines that could produce sounds. They were turned off now but Rollie could see they were adjusted for low sounds. The extent that people can't hear. Rollie stared dazed at the machine. Now it was all clear to him. This was the source of the strange feelings he had had. The low sounds that his ears could not hear but his brain could feel anyway had made him feel sick and dizzy. And the operator's room had to be soundproof.
It was time to get out and call the police.
"If it helps you," the man inside the operator's room said through an intercom by his right, "you're not gonna be the only one to undergo this procedure."
Rollie crouched.
"I've already chosen another candidate to feel reality." The man put his hand in the pocket and drew something out. Rollie squeezed the horizontal bar so hard that his knuckles became white.
The frame chained to the hook raised his head just a little bit. Rollie could see him through the operator's room. The light fell on his face and Rollie froze. He was one of the stuntmen from their new movie. What on earth was going on?
"This is going to be the last thing you'll ever see," the man in the operator's room said and raised his hand. He held a narrow stripe of fancy cloth or something like that. Rollie wasn't sure. He put his face nearer the glass. In the moment Rollie realized what he held, the man turned his head to the left and punched a button. Rollie gaped at the side of his face, unable to move, frozen with horror. Before his brain could start to scream inside his head, before Rollie let it tell him whom he'd just seen, his eyes noticed a large thing falling down from an upper hook right on the stuntman. It smashed his head in a split second. Before he managed to scream or whatever.
The minute of powerless horror that Rollie felt seemed endless. The world seemed to be stuck in the very moment. The air, so terribly cold now, looked like liquid glass. Every motion was not likely to ever come to its end. The horror seemed to have grown too big. The world turned red. Red like blood. Sticky blood.
And Rollie was running.
Rollie didn't care he was making a lot of noise. Nobody in a soundproof room could ever hear him. He didn't give a damn his watch got hooked to a jutting out metal bar that tore it down from his hand. He didn't care his hand felt like being set on fire. He had to get out of here.

Rollie stood shocked on the street, trembling. His mind was so oddly stiffen, like frozen to an ice cube. Trickles of rain water were running down from his hair. Rollie did not realized it had started to rain again. One of the trickles got into his left eye and Rollie started to blink to get rid of it. The eye was burning as if the rain water was salty.
The secret of Yesterday had come to light but Rollie wasn't prepared for that one. He hadn't expected anything that grisly that it had taken his breath away. However, the worst part of Yesterday was only squeezing its way to light from his stunned mind. It all seemed to be too hard to keep it inside. The moment of the truth made the world stop. Rollie's stomach turned upside down. He swallowed hard. The madman's face belonged to Kevin Mitchell. And he had held Angie's friendship band.
Sirens were screaming wildly somewhere in town.
Rollie's mind kept thinking about how his life would be if he lost Angie though he didn't want to think about it at all. Rollie tried to stifle the scary thought that Mitchell had changed the place. How could he ever find them then?
Rollie entered the warehouse. The air felt cool but Rollie shivered as if it was freezing cold. The hall was deserted. Rollie ran up the stairway taking two steps at a time. He was sure he heard two voices coming from beyond the walls.

"You never expected it to come this far, did you?" Mitchell said and waved the friendship band right in front of Angie's face. His stinking breath was unbearable.
Angie plucked at the ropes tying her to a hook over her head. It was senseless. No, she hadn't had a clue Mitchell was a madman. But he looked like one in the poor light here. She really did not want to listen to his insane chatting about discovering reality. Her eyes turned to a large freezing box in the corner. It contained a body. Mitchell had said that. That the man had tasted reality but it had been too heavy for him so he'd died. Says you! Angie shivered. She'd tried hard to hide the horror she felt in her entire body. But it was becoming impossible.
"You still think your friend will help you?" Mitchell asked in a mocking way. "I know he saw me. I didn't know till I found this watch," he continued and pulled a watch with cracked display out of his pocket. It swung slowly in the air under his fingers. "Nobody else has a watch with this F/X sticker on the back side." He grinned. "But I found out his memory had failed." His voice was very high now. "I really don't think he'll remember. He doesn't want to remember because he's got weak guts."
Angie drew back her face from Mitchell a bit. He got so close she could count his pores. She wasn't able to stand his evil-smelling breath.

Rollie stopped at the end of the catwalk and stared startled at the empty operator's room and the hall around. No Mitchell and no Angie here. His heart stopped beating for a moment of endless horror, his brains seemed to be frozen and dread was shattering his stomach. A cold hand of rising fear squeezed his throat and tried to choke him. He'd been so sure he'd heard some voices! Rollie turned back, decided to try the straight path too.

"Why don't you let me go?" Angie asked. She almost didn't recognize her own voice. It didn't sound like hers at all.
"Now that you know my secrets? I can't let you go. I don't even intend to let Tyler pick up his mind. He's gonna be next." His eyes twitched nervously and moved around the hall. "I won't let him break my amusement." He turned back, making senseless steps. His eyes stared blankly at the wall. Suddenly he turned back to Angie, grabbed her hair at the back of her head and yelled right into her face, "You don't know me yet. Come and meet me! I'm Mister Pain." Mitchell plucked at her hair and made her look into his face. "You hear me? Mister Pain!" Mitchell's eyes glew like flames but his look was blank as if his insanity had broken through his sense of reality. He was pulling Angie's head backwards. Angie closed her eyes, scared of what might come next.
Then the pulling stopped. She could hear a strange noise and sounds she wasn't able to recognize. Angie opened her eyes swiftly. What she saw took her breath away. Mitchell was bent down, coughing. Standing beside him was Rollie squeezing Mitchell's shoulders.
"You okay?" he asked but instead of waiting for an answer, he thrust Mitchell against the wall.
"Fun's over," Rollie ground and hit Mitchell with his left fist. "Good night!" Mitchell slid down the wall and remained lying on the floor. Rollie turned him on his stomach and tied Mitchell's hands with a piece of rope. Then he untied Angie and held her in his arms. "I missed you," he said.
"Rollie, I was so terribly scared you wouldn't find us," Angie mumbled into his jacket.
Rollie stroked her hair. "I would have come earlier but I didn't want to be a party breaker."
Angie did not say anything. Rollie released her and looked down at her. "Think it's time to notify the competent authority of what happened." He led Angie out of the warehouse into the pouring rain.

"I got it!" Rollie called, standing at the door he had flown open.
Angie raised her eyes from the book she was reading. Rollie had left their workshop just twenty minutes ago and now he was back and Angie didn't have a slightest idea what he was talking about.
"What?" she asked, putting a bookmark in the book and closing it.
"I've gotten the song that saved your life. It's called Chance."
Rollie put a tape in his cassette player and pushed the play button.
"You saved my life," Angie interrupted the beginning of the song.
Rollie looked at her thoughtfully. The song went on. "Nah!" he waved his hand.
"Yes, Rollie," Angie said firmly as if saying 'if you don't admit it, I'll show you'. "It was you."

See the devil he is so intense
See the devil go and change his name
What's the going price of innocence
It can't be the same

Rollie shrugged. "Okay. But these Savatage guys helped me a lot."
Angie turned her eyes over. "Go send them a letter of thanks."
Rollie ducked his head to one side. "I will." They both burst into laughter.