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Bingo Day.

"Morning Max," the woman said as she entered the room. Her smile was fake like a sharks. She strolled across the floor and opened the curtain to let the morning sun brighten up the darkened room.

"What day is it?" Max replied. His voice raspy with age.

"It's Tuesday," she replied. "And you know what that is. It's bingo day!"

The woman was dressed in blue slacks and a flowery shirt, she wore a name tag that declared her to be Mary Sue and that she was a Nurse-Practitioner.

"Bingo day," Max repeated. His mind was foggy and cloudy and he wanted a smoke.

Mary Sue made sure all the curtains were open and that the room was bright and vibrant. Max turned away from the window and brought up the blankets. He could feel the bones ache and creak. Snap. Crackle. Pop.

"Aw, c'mon Max," Mary Sue said as she approached. "There's some nifty new prizes this time around. She checked the pitcher that was on the wheeled table by the bed and saw that it was empty, so she picked it up and went to the bathroom to run the water.

Max brought up his hands, rippled with arthritis and liver-spotted as well, grabbed his glasses off the nightstand and fumbled to put them on his face. He had a hard time remembering where he was and what he was doing, sometimes his memory would flash back to events in his life; or what he thought was his life, could have been a movie he saw and liked but things were blurred now. His reality was here and now.

"There you go, Max," Mary Sue said as she plopped the pitcher of water on the little table. "I'll go and get some more ice for you."

"Thanks," Max replied. He reached for the control for the bed and adjusted it up. He could smell the aroma of food floating down the hallway. Breakfast was being prepared. He wasn't hungry but he did crave a cigarette and a coffee.

"Here. Let me help you," Mary Sue said as she fluffed up his pillow and adjusted the bed so he was sitting up some. "I'll be right back with the ice. Do you want a juice?"

"A coffee," he stated.

"You know you can't have that now," she told him. "Doctor's orders!"

Max was about to say something to her but then it slipped through, like rain through a screen. He tried to swing his feet over and couldn't move them. Pain wracked his body, he noticed the iv drip by his side and then he caught himself in the mirror at the door to his washroom.

There was a rap on the door and a woman entered, in her late 40's or early 50's and she looked radiant as ever. Behind her was a young fellow as well who was listening to an ipod, he seemed to be in his teens.

"Maggie," Max said.

"No Dad," the woman said. "It's me Peri."

She was the spitting image of Maggie. Long flowing hair, eyes sharper than diamonds on velvet.

"Peri?" Max replied. His memory searching and he seemed to recall her.

"Yes," Peri replied; he could see the hurt look in her eyes. She knew that he couldn't recall her at all.

"You were on the subway with us weren't you?" he asked her.

"No, dad," she replied matter-of-factly to him. "That was another lifetime ago."

"Yes, you were Maggie," he said stubbornly. This time he could see the hurt look in Peri's eyes.

There was a moment of awkward silence, music could be heard from the headphones of the young lad beside her. He also seemed to recall the young lad, but couldn't place him as well. These things were getting tough.

Darius... no... Dex... no... Goner... it was something.

Peri turned to the young lad. "Derek, would you take those off and visit with your Poppa."

Derek did what he was told. He took the headphones off and wrapped them up on his ipod and put it on the table. The young lad looked fetching in his jeans, bright yellow shirt with the words Obey written in red with an X over it. He looked like him.

Mary Sue entered the room once again with a pitcher of ice. "Oh, good morning Peri!"

"Good morning Mary Sue," Peri answered.

"And who is this fine strapping lad that you brought with you?" Mary-Sue inquired, as she poured the ice cubes.

"This is my son, Derek. He's home from college," Peri said.

"My what a strapping young lad he is," Mary Sue stated. "He looks like a younger version of Max here."

Max struggled to remember. "What day is this?"

"It's Tuesday, Max," Mary-Sue told him. "It's Bingo Day."

Derek smiled and didn't say much at all, he glanced around the room and then whispered to his mother that he was going out for a smoke and maybe grab a coffee.

"Black with two sugars," Max told him.

"Now, now," Peri told him. "You know you shouldn't be drinking coffee."

"I can do as I damn well please," he scolded her. The nerve of this woman telling him what he could do. "Are you Legacy?"

Mary Sue brought Peri aside and they seemed to be in conference; Max could only get a glimpse of what they were talking about over the music that was emitting from the headphones. Some techno beat song, that made him drum his fingers on the table.

"His dementia is getting worse isn't it?" Peri asked the nurse.

Mary Sue didn't say a word but nodded. "I'll let Dr. Fischer tell you more of his progress; he wants to chat with you."

"He's 88 years old," Peri said to her. "He lived a rough life."

"Rumour has it that he was a secret agent of sorts," Mary Sue said. "Though some of the stories he has told seem to be straight out of science-fiction."

"That's my father alright," Peri replied. "The teller of tall-tales." 

"Dr. Fischer is in his office now," Mary Sue said and Peri nodded.

"Dad," Peri said to Max. "I'll be right back, I'm going to talk with the Doctor."

"Bring me a cigarette and a coffee please," he said.

"I'll see what I can do," she lied. And both her and Mary Sue went out the door.

Max was trying to remember her and knew her, the music filtering in from the headphones seemed to drive a beat, unlocking rhythms in his brain. Clearing a path of sorts. With his crippled hands he reached for the device; unraveled the headphones and plugged them into his ears.

Dexter was listening to Classic Hits of Gen X (Songs Your Grandparents Danced To) and it was a Crystal Method song that he had listened to many, many times before.

This transmission is coming to you.

He closed his eyes and let the music flow, and it seemed to get louder and louder in his head. His fingers drumming out the beat on the table. Seemed to move more freely and more agile at the moment.

This transmission is coming to you.

Eighty years of memories were unlocking now, breaking through the damn of dementia as neural passageways which where damaged by age and time began to open and flow freely. Max felt the music, a floodgate of emotions and torrents of memories washing over him like The Maid of The Mist at Niagara Falls.

"We've got it!"

He sat up; this was just what the doctor ordered. He remembered it all, he remembered everything and when he opened his eyes he saw Derek standing there in the room his eyes widening in what looked like a state of shock.

"Who are you?" Derek asked. Seeing the young man laying in bed with his headphones.

Max saw his reflection in the door of the mirror and saw a youthful reflection, a glow over his body, a shining beacon of sorts.  Derek dropped the coffee he was holding and the liquid spread across the floor. Max remembered it all, how he became trapped in this reality and didn't shift with the others, how he learned to live and adjust and eventually marry a woman who resembled someone he loved. Maybe it was her, that had helped him adjust to this world.

He had been trapped in this reality for a long time now. He had been here in this reality for over 50 years. He could feel the wave approaching, he was shifting and he knew it.

Max turned to his grandson and smiled. "Can you give Peri a message from me?"

The youth just nodded in disbelief.

"Tell her..." he started and paused because he didn't know what to say. "Tell her 'Bingo!'"

And that's when he disappeared in a blinding flash of light.