We have the technology here to remember the past for you, and take you to the great concerts of the past. Our protagonist shows that time is on your side, time where you can always get what you want…
“Are you sure you want to do this, Grandma?”
“I have never been more sure of anything in my life. Now, keep pushing, girl, we’re gonna be late.”
Grandma Owens gripped the arms of her wheelchair as her granddaughter, Jenna, pushed her through the automatic doors at REC Headquarters. They rolled up to the front desk. Grandma Owens whistled through her teeth and rapped her cane against the desk’s edge. “I’ve got an appointment,” she said.
The young gentleman at the front desk cleared his throat and looked at Jenna with a smile. “What do we have here?”
“My grandmother has an appointment. Marpessa Owens?”
“It’s Mary. Nobody calls me Marpessa. That’s too highfalutin. And too many letters. Just Mary.”
The young gentleman leaned over the desk. “Well, Just Mary, it says here you’re right on time. You ready to get down?”
“You getting fresh with me, boy?” Mary raised her cane and the young man jumped back.
Jenna intervened. “Grandma! He was only kidding. He meant are you ready to go do what you’ve always dreamed about?”
“Oh… in that case, yes… I’m ready.”
“Okay,” said the receptionist. “Just follow this nice lady. She’ll take you where you need to go. Have fun!”
A young woman appeared dressed in a stylish lab coat. “Right this way,” she said.
Jenna wheeled her grandma toward a waiting elevator. “Here we go, Grams. Last chance to chicken out.”
“Not in your life,” said Mary. In her mind, she was already there.
#
The REC advertisements had said it all:
What if you could attend a concert by your favorite music artist of the past?
What if there was a way to take those bits and pieces of recorded history and, through the magic of AI technology, not only recreate the musical performance but the event itself?
What if we could put you there on that day, at that time, for a fully immersive experience you’ve only dreamed about?
Well, now you can. With REC (Real Experience Concert). We can put you on that rooftop with the Beatles. At the Isle of Man to witness the explosive debut of The Who. At Monterey Pop in 1967 to see Janis Joplin wow the audience. Experience the raw beginnings, the transcendent performances, the final farewells with REC’s state of the art technologies. Register for your appointment today!
When seventy-three-year-old, wheelchair-bound Marpessa Owens saw that ad, she immediately called for her granddaughter to contact REC and set her up.
“For real, Grams? You’re going to spend your life savings on a concert from the past? But why? What’s so important about that one?”
“Never you mind,” Mary said. “It’s what I want. Now, go make that appointment before I catch a death.”
Jenna did as she was told. But she still didn’t understand why the Rolling Stones and some concert at a place called Altamont in 1969 was so important.
#
“Alright, Mary, just relax…” The technician had already helped Mary from her wheelchair into a cushy recliner. He placed monitoring tabs at strategic locations on her body, just like when she went for one of her heart health check-ups. Last came the VR headset. “How’s that feel, Mary? Comfortable?” Jenna was there by her side throughout the entire process, holding her grandmother’s hand.
“I can’t see anything,” Mary said.
The technician looked at Jenna and smiled. “That’s normal. We haven’t initiated the program yet. Just a few warnings, Mary, before we get started. What you’re about to experience will appear to be real. In fact, very real, in every way. This chair and the electrodes we’ve attached to your body will assist with the sensation of the experience. The mild sedative we gave you will help your mind be more receptive to the virtual landscape. And one last bit of advice… absolutely, under no circumstances, should you engage in sex.”
“Hell, if I won’t,” said Mary.
Jenna gasped. “Grandma!”
The technician winked. “Actually, I’m kidding about that last part. Have at it, Mary, if that’s what you want to do. Are we ready?”
“Would you hurry up. Time’s a-wasting.”
“Okay, here we go. Enjoy.”
Mary felt the world beyond the headset recede. It felt a little like when she was ten and her parents decided to take the ferry across San Francisco Bay. A bout of sea sickness made her decide then and there that the ocean was not for her. The dizzy spell passed quickly, however. The darkness filled with light, and Mary was suddenly standing amid the throng of 300,000 people who had flocked to see the day-long free concert at Altamont Speedway on Saturday, December 6, 1969.
It was as if time had never passed. The Stones were on stage singing “Jumpin’ Jack Flash.” The sun had set, and a cold wind had begun to blow. Mary had on her white blouse and white miniskirt, along with her white knee-high go-go boots. There were love beads around her neck, and from her ears hung giant hoop earrings like the kind Angela Davis wore. Everything was as it was, down to the last detail. Her body was trim and she felt light as a feather.
But Hunter was nowhere in sight. She looked past the sea of spectators and headed for the stage.
It was like swimming through a sea of memories. Hunter had taken her to see Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid at the Clay Theater in San Francisco, and afterwards they spent some time in the backseat of his Chevy Impala. It was their one and only date… before he left her for that pretty white girl he ended up taking here to Altamont.
Mary felt lost among the crowd. Everywhere she looked was fuzzy at first, but then came into focus, as if her eyes had adjustable lenses. The sound boomed across the speedway. She navigated around islands of people, squeezed between strangers, and stepped over blankets. All the while, she was surrounded by the smells of pot smoke, patchouli, beer, and motor oil. “Sympathy for the Devil” came and went. She knew the setlist by heart. It was all happening too fast. She had to get there before it was too late.
“Love in Vain Blues” ended and “Under My Thumb” began. At last, Mary had made it to the front. That’s when she saw him, dressed in his fancy paisley-patterned shirt and sharp-looking Italian leather shoes. The surprise on his face when he caught her eye thrilled her heart.
“What are you doing here?” he said. They were close to the stage and he had to raise his voice above the music.
“I need to tell you something.”
“Hoowee, you look fine,” he said.
“Hunter—listen. There’s something I really need to tell you.”
“What is it, babe?” He was nervous and excited—a bit too excited. His afro sparkled in the spotlights. His face was as beautiful as she remembered. She couldn’t help but want the moment to last. But she knew what was about to happen.
“I’m pregnant. You’re going to be daddy.”
For a moment it was as if he didn’t hear her. Then a smile lit up his face. Hunter had a contagious smile and she found herself smiling, too. He scooped her up and spun her around and kissed her long and hard. “I’m going to be a daddy?” he yelled. He turned to the nearest concert-goer. “I’m going to be daddy!” He went to the next person. “I’m going to be a daddy!” He then turned and bumped into one of the Hell’s Angels that was providing security for the Stones. The leather-vested biker was not happy about the sudden contact. And, to make matters worse, the bump knocked a handgun out of the Angel’s vest onto the tarmac.
“Sorry, dude. Here you go.” Hunter bent and picked up the gun and handed it to the biker. That’s when somebody screamed. “He’s got a gun!” Mary watched in horror as Hunter’s smile melted. The next few moments were chaos in slow motion. Mary felt herself pushed back as the concert-goers scrambled to get away from the scene. A circle opened as another Hell’s Angel reacted the only way he knew how. One hand grabbed Hunter’s wrist and pointed the gun upward, the other hand, the one with the knife, lunged forward, stabbing Hunter twice in the ribs before the crowd pushed Mary away and the circle closed.
All Mary could hear were shrieks and snippets of “Under My Thumb.” She saw an Angel’s arm raise a broken pool cue up and then down again, and again. By now, other Angels had joined in, some kicking, some stomping. And Mary felt herself being pulled away, like a tide, as the music stopped and the AI program tugged at her to leave the past and rejoin the present.
But Mary was stubborn. It took a stubborn woman to be a single mother. To raise a boy much like his daddy, always getting into trouble. But she was too stubborn to let that be his story. Mary’s son straightened out. Went to college. Got married and had a daughter by the name of Jenna.
Grandma? Grandma, wake up!
Mary heard her granddaughter’s voice calling to her, but she had other plans in mind.
She fought through the fuzz and remained at Altamont. She forced her way through the crowd until she was at last by Hunter’s side. By now, everyone was just standing around not knowing what to do. The Stones continued to play on, unaware of what had happened. She sat down beside Hunter’s broken, bleeding body and cradled his head. That’s when he opened his eyes.
“I’m going to be a daddy,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“And you’re going to be a fine daddy.” Mary wiped the blood from his beautiful face; he shuddered and coughed up more. His eyes grew wide.
“I’m scared,” he said.
“Shhhhhh, it’s alright. I’m right here, baby. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.” And he seemed to know what she meant as he closed his eyes and the music grew quieter and quieter.
#
“What is happening? Why isn’t she waking up? Grandma? Grandma!” Jenna broke into tears as the technicians scrambled to try and figure out what went wrong.
“This has never happened before.” The technician, who had been so jovial, looked like he had aged ten years in the past hour. “They always come back.”
Jenna stared at her grandmother. “You don’t know my Grams. Once she sets her mind to something, there’s no changing it.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Look.” Jenna pointed to her grandmother.
When they had removed the headset, Marpessa Owens had the most peaceful expression on her face.
“Does that look like someone who was afraid of dying?”
“I’m so sorry.”
Jenna squeezed her grandmother’s hand and smiled through the tears. “Wherever she is, I’m sure it’s where she always wanted to be.”
THE END
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