“You’re telling me you can walk around with the internet in your back pocket in 2018?”
The thought would have never occurred to someone in 1996, as the internet was barely accessible at the library.
“Oh, yeah. It happens even sooner than that. A little after 2000 is when everyone started getting cell phones. The internet part came a little later, but didn’t take too long before everyone had it. Do you want to hold it?”
“Okay.” Sonya finally reached out and grabbed the futuristic portal of knowledge from Martin’s hand. She studied it, turning it as she held it up the light. “I just don’t get how this little thing can do all that?”
“A cell phone is only the start. You should see the technology in the future – it only becomes more advanced every year.”
“Don’t get me wrong, this is cool, but it’s not enough to convince me to go. What’s the world like?”
Martin looked at Sonya, who still hadn’t taken her eyes off the cell phone.
“Sonya. I need you to trust me when I tell you the world is fine. I’ll be there with you every step of the way. I want you to come with me. Not just so you can see the future, but so we can continue our life together.”
“What happens to my life here?”
Martin opened his mouth to speak, but snapped it shut when he realized he didn’t actually know. The rules that applied to him for traveling to the past might not work for her since she wasn’t taking the pill. He didn’t know if her body would fall asleep for ten minutes and patiently await her return that might never come.
“I honestly don’t know. For me, I’m asleep in 2018, and whenever I go back, only ten minutes will have passed. I’ll actually need to go quit my job when I wake up.”
Martin decided he didn’t want to slog through life any more, regardless of what would end up happening with Izzy and Sonya. He felt a new sense of purpose in life and found he actually enjoyed being sober more than the constant state of drunkenness he had grown accustomed to.
“Why would you quit?” Sonya asked, pure curiosity in her voice.
Martin smirked. “Do you think traveling through time is something you can just do and go back to your normal life after it’s all done? Pretend it never happened? My life will never be the same, and I think that’s for the best. Don’t worry, I’m going to make sure I have plenty of money ready to pick up when I arrive back.”
The shock and worry that had physically consumed Sonya gave way to anticipation. Martin could see the dials turning in her head, digesting everything he said. He knew she would agree to visit, but not necessarily stay. A history teacher would never be able to resist a chance to see the future, no matter how absurd it might sound.
She pursed her lips and stared into Martin’s soul.
“I’ll go with you under one condition . . . and some other questions.” Sonya spoke and her eyes seemed to follow the words out of her mouth, wondering if she could reach out and take them back.
“Of course. What’s the condition?”
“You need to tell me what you were doing in Littleton. Did it have something to do with the future?”
Martin had witnessed a carousel of Sonya’s emotions over the last few hours, and now saw one he hadn’t yet seen: hope. Hope that whatever he responded with would be to her liking. Hope that whatever was in Littleton was part of some futuristic project she wouldn’t understand. Martin offered a soft smile before delivering the good news.
“Yes, it did have to do with the future, but I clearly ran into problems. Do you know Columbine High School out in Littleton?”
She nodded. “I’ve heard of it, yeah. Huge school, virtually unlimited budget. What does a high school have to do with anything?”
Martin cleared his throat, knowing he needed to explain what would happen without scaring her out of joining him in 2018.
“In 1999, two seniors at the high school are going to take guns and homemade bombs to school and kill more than a dozen kids and teachers, and injure many more.”
Sonya’s mouth hung open and she slapped a hand to it.
“I figured since I’m already here in the past, I’d see if I can do anything to stop that from happening. You see, by 2018, America will have more mass shootings than any other countries combined. And it all started with the attacks at Columbine.”
Martin watched as fear washed away the look of hope in Sonya’s eyes. He remembered a time where shootings were still shocking to hear about, and he envied Sonya for still living in that era.
“Two students bring guns to school and shoot everyone?” Sonya asked. “I can’t even imagine. What would I do if that happened in my classroom? I’m just a teacher.”
“Exactly. It turns in to such a hot topic in the future that it literally polarizes everyone against each other and nothing gets resolved.”
“Martin,” she said, her brow furrowed in seriousness. “You have to stop it. You have to go back. I can help you.”
Martin crossed his arms and nodded in appreciation. “That’s nice of you, but I can’t let you get involved. And I shouldn’t stay involved, either. You see, one thing about traveling to the past is anything I try to change may resist. The day of the accident I was at one of the shooter’s homes. I think I was close to having an encounter with him, and the past sent that semi-truck to stop me.”
“There has to be something you can do, even without getting physically involved. What if you called the police? Or wrote a letter?”
“I thought about that. A letter would probably just get lost in the mail. And a phone call would never be taken seriously. If I called the Littleton police to report a crime that’s going to happen in three years, they’ll probably come and lock me up instead.”
“I’ll do it,” Sonya demanded. “You can’t tell me otherwise.”
“Sonya—”
“Nope. I’m doing it. I’ll take the chance and hand deliver a letter to the school’s principal. If you want to help, you can watch out for me to make sure nothing happens.”
Martin wanted to protest but recognized the determination on Sonya’s face. Her mind was made up and there would be no talking her out of it. He could only hope she would forget about all of this and avoid a potentially deadly decision.
“Okay, we can discuss it more. I really need to explain more how the past will fight back.”
“I don’t care. Sometimes you have to do what’s right, no matter what.”
“Is this worth dying over? Because that could happen.”
Sonya’s look of determination gave an inch to doubt. She wanted to stay strong, but the notion of death may have planted the fear he hoped might change her mind.
“I’ll think about it.”
“Okay. Let’s discuss it later. Is there anything else you had questions about?” Martin asked, pleading her to change the subject.
“Yeah. What’s the date of this shooting?”
38
Chapter 38
Sonya wouldn’t let it go, and after three days of constant nagging, Martin surrendered and agreed to let her deliver a letter to the school. She had even drafted a copy of the letter that she would take to the principal.
Sonya kept Martin company, watching many movies to pass the days while he remained a quasi-vegetable. He became fatigued easily, and one hour of each day, she helped him move around the house, refresh his memory on where things went, and if he was up to it, go for a relaxing walk around the neighborhood.
If there was one thing Martin remembered, it was why he fell in love with Sonya. She tended to him with a motherly touch he hadn’t felt since he was a child. His heart still skipped madly every time she pressed her lips onto his.
She’s the one, he thought. I had to travel back in time to find the person I’m meant to love.
She loved him so much, apparently, that she wanted to put her life on the line to carry out his goal of stopping the Columbine shootings. It had obviously struck a personal chord with her being a lifelong educator, but she mig
ht have obsessed a bit too much over the matter, bringing up the topic at every chance.
“We need to sit down and make a plan, and get this note delivered next week,” Sonya said. “I already found out that their summer school is open one more week before they close down until the fall. You’re going to be too consumed with saving Izzy by the time the next school year starts, so this needs to happen within the next seven days.”
Sonya had practically hijacked the mission, telling Martin how things would play out. If he didn’t like it, then she would just go on her own and enter the unknown battlefield without protection.
“Okay, Monday morning. Let’s get it out of the way,” Martin agreed reluctantly.
Monday morning had been the original date for their flight departure to their romantic getaway, but the doctor said it would be best if they wait another month or two as Martin needed to remain as stress free as possible.
Sonya was able to get most of their money back, and obliged to cancel the trip. She would, after all, be taking a different trip in September. One for the ages, you could say.
They spent a couple hours on Saturday crafting the final draft of the letter. It didn’t say much, but Sonya was a perfectionist. It read:
Dear Sir,
I’ve come across some disturbing information that needs to be brought to your attention. Two of your students, Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold, are currently plotting a violent attack that will take place at Columbine High School. Their current plan to carry out this attack is April 20, 1999, when they will be in their final semester of high school.
Please do with this information as you wish, but know this is not an empty threat. You must consider this note with care to save future lives.
God bless,
A concerned citizen
Martin would have never been able to phrase such delicate information in the manner she had. Five simple sentences handwritten on a piece of notepad paper would stop one of the most horrific terrorist attacks in modern history, assuming they could deliver it without any problems.
There will be problems, Martin thought. You weren’t even doing anything when the truck hit you. And you think this time will be any easier?
The thought wrung Martin’s stomach like a rag. He had to be ready for anything, and also had to prepare Sonya to be ready. She didn’t understand how aggressive the past would be, and he didn’t want her to find out the hard way.
The plan they made was simple. She would drive, and Martin would ride shotgun to keep an eye on the road for the unexpected. She would enter the school with Martin following close behind, waiting outside to avoid being noticed again inside the school.
“And that’s all we can plan for,” he said, sipping a cup of tea. “As far as the unknown, I have no idea what’ll happen. There could be another car accident, maybe the car will catch on fire. I just don’t know. We have to be ready for anything, and you have to be ready to move at my command. If I say jump out of the car, you better swing that door open and jump like your life depends on it.”
Sonya nodded silently, and Martin thought the severity of the task had finally settled in. She didn’t do well with the unknown, but had committed too deep to back out now.
“Martin?” she asked, the slightest tremble escaping from her lips. “Do you think I might die?”
Remember, you don’t know how the rules will apply to her. She’s not the one traveling through time.
“Not likely,” he said. “I think I’m still going to be the one at highest risk. When Monday comes, we need to move quickly and efficiently. We should plan to go during the peak of the morning rush hour. The slower we drive, the less likely for something to go wrong.”
Sonya nodded. “Monday morning. I don’t know if I’ll be able to sleep between now and then.”
“Of course you will – just try to keep your mind clear. You don’t even know these kids or the severity of their attacks.”
“That doesn’t matter. I’ve agreed to do this, both as a sign of faith that I believe you, and to help keep the world a good place.”
Sonya lay down on the couch and curled up beside Martin. He rubbed her up and down along her back while they both fell into a deep sleep.
* * *
They spent the rest of the weekend much how they had spent the entire week, dragging themselves around the house, not wanting to do much but stay rested for their eventful Monday morning. On Sunday, Martin decided to give grilling a shot once the sun started its descent and left them with a picture-perfect evening. He sipped a glass of neat whiskey while tending to two sizzling steaks. He couldn’t remember what the different ways to cook steak were called, but knew they needed to have the slightest shade of pink in the middle to be considered finished and still juicy.
Sonya approached Martin from behind and placed her own glass of whiskey on the grill’s side table. She slung her arms around Martin’s waist and rocked back and forth with him as they stared out to the backyard. The grass had grown scraggly, but not too tall yet. Martin had always mowed on Sunday nights, but had taken the last two weeks off from that chore. Perhaps in another week he’d feel more up to managing machinery that could cut a limb off if used improperly.
“I love you,” Sonya said from behind him, sounding almost hypnotized.
He put down the tongs and turned to her. “I love you, too.”
“No, really. I’ve been thinking all weekend now. How could any of this have happened? How does life lead us where it does? This can’t be some miraculous accident. The fact that you were sent here from 2018 and met me…it just can’t be dumb luck.”
Martin grinned and kissed her on the forehead. “I’ve thought the same thing since I arrived. I thought I was coming here for a sole purpose, but it turned out being three purposes: Izzy, Columbine, and you.”
Sonya returned a grin as she looked into his eyes.
“I’ve tried to make sense of all of it,” he said. “But all I can come up with is that it’s some sort of fate—a cross-dimensional fate, at that. I’ve debated so long on when to tell you, knowing I would have to at some point. It means the world to me that you’re going to join me.”
He kissed her again, this time on the lips, and she returned the favor with a brief flash of deep passion.
“I’m terrified, you know,” she said. “I’m terrified of tomorrow, I’m terrified of 2018, I’m terrified of the future in general. You don’t know what happens beyond 2018. Unlike now, you could tell me everything that happens between now and then.”
“I’m still here. You can ask me anything.”
“I’d rather read the history books when I get to the future, and then I’ll ask questions. The only thing I want to know is if we see a woman president by 2018.”
Martin smirked. “Almost. Clinton’s wife – Hilary – she loses in the 2016 election.”
“Really?” Sonya’s eyes bulged. “Lost to who?”
“That’s a long story. Probably better for another day.”
“So there is some hope for the future.”
“Things aren’t as bad as they might sound. Sure there’s more violence in the future, but I’ve never felt in danger. I honestly think the violence is mostly the same, there’s just more coverage of it with the internet and social media.”
Sonya nodded silently, and Martin figured she had no idea what social media even meant.
“How will we know if what we’re doing tomorrow will have worked?” she asked.
Martin took a sip and flipped the steaks, their sizzle slowly quieting as they came closer to completion.
“Well, we won’t be here to find out for ourselves. We’ll have to look it up when we get back to 2018. We can do a quick search on Columbine High School and see what shows up.”
“It’s that simple, huh?”
“It really is. You can find out literally anything you want to know. Not all the answers may be real, but you’ll eventual learn how sort out what’s fake or not.”
“That needs to
be the first thing we look up when he get back. Is the library close to your house?”
“We don’t need to go to the library. Remember, it’s all on my phone.”
“Duh, right! How could I forget your portable encyclopedia? My apologies.”
She grinned as she locked eyes with Martin, and he felt something he hadn’t in the last two weeks: lust.
They hadn’t lost their connection, but he was unable to perform physically grueling tasks. Now, he felt a familiar tingle in his crotch and an urge to kiss every inch of her body. If dinner went well, maybe he’d see what she thought about dessert in the bedroom.
39
Chapter 39
Monday morning, just before the sun poked above the horizon, Martin’s nightmare of Eric and Dylan had recurred. Only this time there was no conversation, just the two boys laughing like rabid hyenas as they both lined up their firearms and shot Martin square in the chest. It was a quick dream, the kind you think back and realize had lasted only five seconds, but had felt like an eternity. The layers of evil that waited beneath their howling laughter sent chills down his spine both in dreamland and in his 1996 bed.
Sonya tossed and turned all night, likely facing demons of her own. He knew she had finally recognized that she had gone in too deep with this commitment, but would never admit it.
She had rolled out of bed shortly after 5 A.M., and Martin heard her rummaging around the kitchen, debated if he should join her, then rolled back to his side to try and steal another hour of sleep.
Their plan was to leave the house at eight, meaning they would hit the rush hour traffic toward downtown by 8:15 to have a slow trek the rest of the way to Littleton. There was a brief disagreement about the strategy to catch the rush hour. Sonya believed that more cars on the road increased the likelihood of something going wrong, while Martin argued something would go wrong regardless, so it would be best to drive as slow as possible. I-25 in the morning, between eight and nine was typically stop-and-go all the way to downtown. If something were to go wrong on the highway, they’d have plenty of time to react.
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