[Wealth of Time 01.0] Wealth of Time

by Andre Gonzalez

  “Thank you,” he said. “You have no idea how incredible you are, and that makes you even more incredible.”

  “Izzy made it home okay,” Sonya said, wanting to redirect the conversation. “No one followed her but me, and I saw her go inside and close the door.”

  Martin nodded as if he expected this information. “Perfect.”

  He stood from the rocker and put his hands on his hips as he stared into the distance.

  “Let’s go eat,” he said. “I made your favorite meal.”

  By this he meant lasagna with baked bread, and she grinned at him.

  “You know, you’re pretty incredible yourself,” she said.

  Martin mustered a smile in return, through the thick layers of distraction that had taken control of his face.

  “I sure hope I can be incredible tonight, for Isabel. I only get one chance to make this right.”

  “You’ll be perfect, I have no doubt about it. Let’s go eat so you can clear your mind. Maybe you can tell me more about the future?”

  Martin nodded and followed her inside, where they would sit down for their final dinner of 1996.

  48

  Chapter 48

  Martin changed his tune over dinner, and insisted that Sonya stay for an hour after he would arrive at his old house.

  “I already know nothing significant happens until the middle of the night,” he said. “The party doesn’t start until after I show up, possibly well after I show up.”

  “What time do you think you’ll get there?”

  “The news said the sun will set at 7:18. I’ll be there around 7:45, once it’s officially dark.” Martin spoke in between bites of lasagna. He ate like a starved stray dog hitting the jackpot with a tipped over dumpster full of food. After Sonya arrived home, his confidence skyrocketed. His senses were overloaded while he ate. He could hear every sound outside the house as if microphones were set up around the yard. Even the seasonings buried in the marinara sauce jumped onto his tongue.

  I’m ready, he thought. I’m not dying tonight, and Izzy will stay at that house if it’s the last goddamned thing I do.

  After he did everything but lick the sauce remnants from his plate, Martin sat back in his chair, noting the clock that read 4:23, and grinned at Sonya.

  “Are you ready?” he asked.

  “I think so. I’m nervous, but kind of excited. I can’t believe the time is finally here.”

  “I’m feeling good, too,” Martin said. “I’m still incredibly nervous. Surprised I ate all of that, to tell you the truth, but I also feel focused.”

  “That’s good,” Sonya said as she finished her plate. She hadn’t struggled with eating or sleeping as much as Martin had, having an ability to shove stressful thoughts aside and keep moving forward with her life. “I think I’m gonna head over there now. There’s really no point in waiting around here. Even if nothing happens while I’m there, it’ll still help pass the time. If I stay here I think I might go crazy.”

  If she wanted to go, Martin had no reason to stop her.

  Sonya joined him at the head of the table and slung her arms around his waist. “I’ll see you back here when it’s all done.”

  Martin stood and nodded, pulling her into his embrace.

  “Thank you for doing this. All of this. You could’ve said no. I can’t wait to start our life together after tonight. It’s going to be perfect.”

  Martin pulled her in tighter and inhaled the sweet scent of her shampoo.

  “Don’t do anything to put your life at risk,” she said.

  “Of course not. You either.” Martin knew very well that if he saw an opportunity to save Izzy that would require his own life, he’d take it in a heartbeat. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.

  “I love you,” she said, planting a kiss on his lips. “I’ll see you later.”

  Martin released Sonya from his arms and watched as she glided across the room, grabbed her keys and purse, and disappeared through the door with a quick glance over her shoulder.

  Sonya was gone, leaving him three hours until he would start his walk through town. Even with a cloudy memory, he’d never forget the way “home” after all these years.

  His past self would have just left for work a few minutes ago, giving Izzy a kiss on the head on his way out the door.

  “I’ll see you later,” he had said, now wishing he could go back and never leave that night. Why do bad things have to happen to good people?

  He could still taste the fruity smell from Izzy’s hair on his lips after all these years, could see his final words to her hanging in the air, wishing he could grab them and have a second chance.

  “Your second chance is tonight. Don’t waste it,” he said to the empty kitchen.

  * * *

  While Sonya watched the Briar residence from three houses down, Martin waited in their bedroom, dressed in black sweatpants and a black long-sleeve shirt, staring obsessively into the standing mirror that leaned against the wall. A black beanie and gloves rested on the bed to complete his stealthy attire. I can’t go out until it’s dark; I look like a burglar.

  Martin studied the lines starting to fill his face and the streaks of silver in his hair.

  When did I get so old? he wondered. I’ve never felt better, and this is how my body thanks me?

  The damage was already done to his body, thanks to the past decade of drinking anything he could get his hands on. However, the man he saw in the mirror was a different one than he had known. The man in the mirror had gained hope, wisdom, and a refined willpower that would help him achieve what he set out to do. It was a man in love, both with his child and the woman he had met on this journey. True love can carry a man through any situation in life.

  Remember, no matter what happens tonight, you still have Sonya and a future.

  He longed for a life in 2018 with Sonya by his side and Izzy alive and well, but knew dreams didn’t always come true. Sometimes reality wins.

  Through the windows, the sting of brightness softened to an orange glow as dusk approached. The digital clock on the nightstand read 6:08, giving him less than an hour before he’d leave the house. Somewhere in 2018 he was snoring in a back office and would soon wake up to realize this whole thing was a horrible hallucination, or a reality he still struggled to grasp.

  “This is real,” he said to himself. “Dreams don’t carry on this long, and they certainly don’t stay in chronological order.”

  No days had been skipped aside from the coma. He had to wake up every day like anyone else and drag himself through the summer weeks as September loomed.

  Well it’s here now, my friend.

  Martin patted the pill in his pocket, knowing home was just a swallow away. He stuffed the beanie and gloves into his back pockets and moved to the living room for his final few minutes.

  * * *

  At 6:58, Martin Briar walked out of the house. The sun glowed above the mountains and would begin its quick descent within the next few minutes.

  Martin had planned his route and calculated the walk to his old house would take around 30 minutes. As he strolled through the neighborhood, he saw families at the dinner table, others doing the dishes, and some huddled around the TV as Monday Night Football started.

  He remembered occasional nights when Izzy would sit on his lap and watch the games with him, asking a laundry list of questions. She had always been curious, even with matters she didn’t actually care about, like football.

  I’m coming for you, Izzy. And you can ask me all the questions you want.

  The first hint of darkness took control of the sky and would swallow up the city by the time he arrived to his destination.

  Martin reached the end of his neighborhood within twelve minutes, right on schedule, and crossed 80th Avenue to his old neighborhood where the houses were newer, maintained with well-manicured lawns and modern designs that gave every home a view of the mountains.

  He remembered when he and Lela had moved into the ne
ighborhood. It was the peak of their relationship. Both had steadily paying jobs, and she was pregnant with the same child whose disappearance would destroy his life in the matter of one night.

  The past could easily have placed Martin’s mother on the front porch, smoking a cigarette and thereby throwing his entire night down the shitter, so he walked down the block one over from her house. He sensed the past wouldn’t give him too much trouble and wasn’t sure why – perhaps it was a hunch, or the eerie stillness in the air.

  He passed Larkwood Middle School and found himself on the same route that Izzy took home every day, and imagined her walking by his side, head down, books in her embrace.

  Dusk was officially upon Larkwood and the houses were no more than silhouettes against the sliver of orange that remained in the sky. Blackness filled in from the east, clawing its way to the Rocky Mountains on the west side of town. A few crickets chirped as Martin reached the corner of his old block.

  He approached the stop sign where Cherry Street and 78th Avenue intersected and looked down the dark block. The night lacked moonlight as the street lights flickered on and wouldn’t provide reliable light for the next half hour while they warmed up.

  Martin kept to the west side of Cherry Street, where his house waited halfway down the block. He saw Sonya’s car parked on the opposite side of the road, roughly three houses down from his, facing him.

  Everything’s in place and ready to go. Now, we wait.

  Judging from the sky, total darkness was less than five minutes away. He’d wait until then before proceeding down the block, but prepared by slipping the black beanie over his head and making sure the gloves were snug over his hands.

  He peered around to make sure no one was watching, and relaxed when realizing he was alone.

  Down the block waited a new destiny and a second chance at life.

  Who actually gets second chances in life? He trembled at the thought.

  He started walking, taking the quietest steps he could manage, and headed toward whatever fate awaited him.

  49

  Chapter 49

  Now that he stood in front of it, Martin remembered his house exactly as it was. It had an open front yard, half covered with leaves from the neighbor’s massive oak tree that connected with a cement porch. Three windows spanned the front of the ranch-style home, with the front door centered between the first and second. Daylight would show the house’s light green exterior, but the darkness made everything colorless.

  Martin hid behind the scraggly bushes that separated his yard from the neighbor’s driveway, peering around the lamppost that splashed a soft, yellow glow in the middle of the street. From the sidewalk he waved his arms in Sonya’s direction, the car lights remaining off.

  He turned his attention back to the house. From his initial assessment, hiding on the side of the house provided the best view of the front yard and driveway, and the flexibility to run to the backyard should he need to. An intruder would have a hard time sneaking in through the back where chain link fences would create noise and attention.

  Martin cut across the front yard to the side of the house, scattered leaves crunching beneath his feet. The window above him belonged to Izzy’s bedroom, allowing him to hear any encounter inside should it be loud enough. He crouched and felt devoured by the darkness.

  I need to get comfortable; it’s gonna be a few hours.

  He wished he had his cell phone, but the battery had finally run out, even after remaining off for so long. The watch on his wrist had no glow; those were still a couple years away. If he really needed to know the time, he’d have to run into the middle of the street and check below the lamppost.

  Rely on your instincts.

  By his calculation it should only be 7:40, leaving him over an hour until Izzy would actually go to sleep. A thick curtain covered her window, blocking any potential for him to know if her light was turned on.

  Martin peered back toward the street to see the car still parked. A car would drive by every few minutes, headlights filling Cherry Street, but not revealing the crouched man on the side of the Briar house. Each time one passed, Martin’s heart raced with an extra boost of adrenaline.

  It’s not even eight yet, relax. Nothing happens until at least nine. Sit back, grab your popcorn, and wait for the show to start.

  Martin did exactly this and sat on the ground, legs pulled to his chest as he curled into a ball like a roly-poly. And he waited.

  * * *

  Sonya watched from her car as the darkness fell over the city. The sense that he would need an escape car swelled, and her instincts told her she needed to stay. What would she do at home, anyway? Sit on the couch and watch TV while Martin engaged in the fight of his life?

  Absolutely not.

  She watched him reach the lamppost, study the exterior, and disappear into the shadows along the side. He had waved at her, and she waved back, but the darkness concealed her gesture.

  Don’t worry about me – I’ll be right here when you need me.

  The neighborhood felt still after the kids had returned inside from playing at sunset. She tuned out the deafening silence in the car by whistling softly, knowing she also had a long, challenging night ahead before her new life could begin.

  * * *

  Sitting outside his old house had opened a floodgate of memories that Martin had to keep pushing aside to remain focused. He reminisced about the times he played with Izzy in the front yard, chasing her and pretending to be a dinosaur. Or other times they had played hide-and-seek on warm summer nights, and he had hidden in this same exact spot, watching his only child look around for him until she spotted him and called out, “I got you, Daddy!”

  Life couldn’t have been any more perfect.

  Not knowing for sure how much time had passed, Martin figured it was at least close to 9 P.M. His ass felt like 1,000 ants were nibbling on it, so he stood up and stretched to get the blood flowing again. Any minute something could happen. He checked the backyard, found nothing out of the ordinary, and returned to his post when a car turned onto Cherry Street and crept at a snail’s pace toward the house.

  The headlights blinded Martin, leaving him no way to make out the car until it turned into the driveway. His heart tried to leap out of his throat, stomach churning, arms trembling as he realized this must be the person who ruined his life forever.

  The car looked familiar, and it didn’t register with Martin until the man parked and stepped out. He wore athletic pants and a zip-up windbreaker—another familiar look Martin recognized. A gold chain swung from his neck and illuminated the slightest gleam in the darkness.

  Daniel?

  His younger brother.

  A world of confusion rained on Martin as he peeked around the corner.

  What the hell is he doing here?

  Daniel loved Izzy, and she reciprocated his adoration. He was the fun uncle, taking her to amusement parks, museums, and random stops for ice cream during summer break.

  How is Daniel involved in this night?

  Martin couldn’t recall a single police statement that mentioned his brother. Daniel walked up the front steps and rapped lightly on the door. It only took seconds for the screen door to fly open from Lela’s skinny arm, and Daniel disappeared into the house.

  Dear God, please don’t tell me this is what I think it is.

  Martin kept his neck craned to look around the corner.

  Any minute Daniel is going to walk back out and drive home. He just stopped by for something, right?

  After five minutes passed with no sign of the door opening, Martin leaned back against the house, panting like a thirsty dog in the middle of summer. Tension had built up that he hadn’t realized until he released his clenched fist and his tight jaw. Think, Martin. There could be one hundred other reasons that he’s here.

  He thought back and tried to remember what was going on in Daniel’s life. Was there something troubling him where he felt he could confide in Lela?


  As best he could remember, life was pretty simple for Daniel in 1996. He would’ve been recently graduated from college, and had jumped right into a job. He had no romantic relationship from what Martin could recall.

  He didn’t need a relationship because he was fucking your wife.

  Martin couldn’t bring himself to accept the possibility of what might be going on inside the house while Izzy slept in her bedroom.

  He had no choice but to confront it. His and Lela’s bedroom was on the same side of the house he currently stood, only closer to the backyard. He dragged his feet to the spot below their bedroom window, his gut feeling like a wrung out rag. The nerves fled as his mind focused on the new task ahead.

  Did this even really happen the first time around, or is the past just fucking with me to throw me off right now?

  He gave the thought a whole second of consideration before dismissing it. The past had never done anything to psychologically mess with his plans, but rather did things like run him over with a semi-truck, or set liquor stores and high schools on fire. Whatever was going on between his brother and ex-wife inside the house was all part of the original story.

  Martin looked up to the bedroom window. Lela hadn’t put up a thick curtain as Izzy had, leaving flimsy blinds to fill the space. The room was black, not even the glow of a TV, but he could hear the faintest sound of a woman giggling. They were in the bedroom, not in the kitchen or living room having a discussion. In the fucking bedroom.

  The soft laughter fell silent for a couple minutes before the sounds of moaning and groaning replaced it, followed by a pleasurable scream.

  Jesus Christ, they didn’t even try being quiet!

  Martin felt his face flushing bright red, his temples pulsing with rage. His hands returned to white knuckled fists, shaking at his sides, as he fought off every urge to barge into the house and beat the living hell out of his brother.