by Rex Bolt
TIME CONTROL
by Rex Bolt
Pike Gillette Book 1
Copyright © 2017 Rex Bolt
CONTENTS
Chapter 0 - Lucy
Chapter 1 - Tricky Business
Chapter 2 - Good Measure
Chapter 3 - The Mall
Chapter 4 - Spin
Chapter 5 - No Clue
Chapter 6 - Front End
Chapter 7 - Drive In
Chapter 8 - 4th of July
Chapter 9 - Come Here
Chapter 10 - Sections
Chapter 11 - Say Who
Chapter 12 - Recliner
Chapter 13 - Extra Buzz
Chapter 14 - Up The Drive
Chapter 15 - Directions
Chapter 16 - Give or Take
Chapter 17 - Commotion
Chapter 18 - Hey PK
Chapter 19 - Pin Drop
Chapter 20 - Over The Head
Chapter 21 - Wheel
Chapter 22 - Air Popper
Chapter 23 - Demonstration
Chapter 24 - Hat Flip
Chapter 25 - The River
Chapter 26 - Big Cake
Chapter 27 - Flight Plan
Chapter 28 - Maverik Exit
Chapter 29 - Shop Talk
Chapter 30 - Renting It
Chapter 31 - Truck Stop
Chapter 32 - Ambidextrous
Chapter 33 - Nestled In
Chapter 34 - Lab Person
Chapter 35 - Proven Otherwise
Chapter 36 - Not A Muscle
Chapter 37 - Acceptance
Chapter 38 - Something Funky
Chapter 39 - Poking Around
Chapter 40 - Main Event
Chapter 41 - Flipping Channels
Chapter 42 - Narrowed Down
Chapter 43 - Just One Day
Chapter 44 - Main Quad
Prologue
“Slow down,” Pike said. “You’re where?”
Pike was having trouble understanding Hannamaker on the phone. They were at the movies, he and Jocelyn, who he was just starting to get to know, but that was another story.
Jack Hannamaker sounded upset, and he’d called three times real quick, which was why Pike finally answered, right there in the theater. They were watching the one about the guy who started McDonald’s. It wouldn’t have been Pike’s first choice, he was much more in the mood for a comedy after all that had gone down this week, but Jocelyn said it got good reviews, and now that they were in the middle of it, it wasn’t bad.
Some guy behind them was clearing his throat, as though to tell Pike to knock it off, which was understandable, and Pike told Jocelyn he’d be right back, to let him know what he missed, and he hustled out into the lobby.
“Okay now, let’s try it again,” he said to Hannamker.
“Dude, I’m telling you,” Jack said, “you need to help me out here …”
“Jeez, if I have to,” Pike said. “Give me about an hour and half though. We’re busy at the moment.”
“This can’t wait … I’m pinned, this is no joke … I got a guy rattling the door.”
Pike had to admit, there was some noise in the background, and maybe someone yelling as well.
“What the heck,” he said.
“I’m on Willowside,” Jack said, “Not sure of the cross street … a couple blocks past that taco truck … toward Uffington …”
“So you mean east of the taco stand?”
“Whatever, you’ll see my car! … Come on man … I’m not believing this, I gotta hold the door now … this maniac’s trying to break it down!”
Hannamaker did sound scared. Pike hated to interrupt a routine, much less a date, but he figured he better get over there. He went back in the theater and told Jocelyn there was an emergency, and here was twenty bucks for an Uber if he didn’t make it back in time. The guy behind them started clearing his throat again, but Pike couldn’t worry about that and he kissed Jocelyn, which he hadn’t gotten used to yet, and he hightailed it out of there.
Jack’s vehicle was easy to find because it stood out. A ‘74 Ford Bronco that he’d picked up for $200 off CraigsList and then fixed up. Not exactly restored though, and Pike didn’t trust the thing on the freeway and he was pretty sure Jack didn’t either though he made it sound like you could hop in and drive to New York, no problem.
But it did the job around town, and it was loud, which Jack liked, plus it pre-dated all the smog-check BS that most cars had to go through.
Of course Pike had only known about Jack’s Bronco for a few days. This was one more quirk of time travel. For the couple years Pike knew the guy, up to when he went to Chico to try to straighten out the Milburns, Jack drove a Honda.
Whatever. Jack was right of course, the Bronco was easy to spot, especially with the weird red body and white roof combination. Pike parked and got out.
Chapter 0 Lucy
Hillsdale, New Mexico
February 12th, 1956
Four-year-old Lucy Pitts held her dad Henry’s hand as they walked around in her grandpa’s empty old house.
There was no one left in the tiny, dusty town anymore. The mine had abruptly shut down when the Korean War ended, and everyone moved on, except for her grandpa, and a couple others who didn’t last long, and pretty soon it was just him.
He was stubborn, her dad said, but now he had passed away.
Henry was deciding what, if anything, to do with his stuff. Not much worth saving in the house, that was for sure. He told Lucy they might as well see what was in the blacksmith shop in back.
The shop was across the yard in an old cedar barn with a weathervane on top. It was nearly dark out. Lucy would remember how thick the air felt, like something was pressing down on you, even though there was no wind at all.
There was a high-pitched hum and they looked to the left toward the base of the mountain. Something round and silver and large, wider than her grandpa’s house, was floating slowly toward the ground. But then when it was about as high as a telephone pole it stopped in the air and started spinning.
There was a grinding sound and some brown stuff shot out from the bottom in a puff, and then the big round silver thing started to rise. After a minute, it moved very fast, faster than anything Lucy had seen, and it disappeared into the clouds.
Henry stood still, looking up into the sky for a long time. Finally he took his pipe out of his coat pocket and began packing it with tobacco.
He told Lucy that what they saw just then, it was real but it wasn’t. He said it would be their secret, and nobody else’s.
He picked Lucy up and held her tight, and he didn’t put her down until they’d closed up the house and were getting back in the car.
Lucy felt safe. She loved having a special secret with her dad that no one could ever take away.
Chapter 1 Tricky Business
Beacon, California
September 9th, 2016
It worked differently for different people, Pike would learn, but for him it happened during a high school football game.
It was a warm Friday night in the central valley, and Hamilton was taking on Bellmeade in the first league game of the season. With about eight minutes left in the first half, Bellmeade ran a guy wide and he cut back, and Pike Gillette came up and made the tackle and the guy didn’t get up.
There was a time-out and they attended to the player, and after a few minutes he limped off. Pike had stuck his shoulder in there and wrapped up like he always tried to do, but something felt different.
In the third quarter Bellmeade completed a pass and then the receiver fumbled, but a big Bellmeade lineman picked it up and started rumbling downfield. Marty Clarke, prett
y big himself and probably Hamilton’s best player, tried to put a hit on the lineman but he bounced off. Pike then met the guy around the 35-yard line and there was a collision that resonated into the stands.
The big lineman snapped backwards like a rag doll and everyone on both teams kind of just stood there. The guy looked out cold.
A trainer brought out old-fashioned smelling salts, and the guy woke up, but he didn’t know where he was when they asked him some questions, so they didn’t let him move, and EMS showed up with their siren blasting and they took the guy to Rickhart Memorial, the next town over.
The whole thing took about 45 minutes and finally the game resumed, all the players (and the fans too) kind of shook up and tentative.
Hamilton went on to win, and in the locker room Coach Geddes gave Pike the game ball. “Those two plays,” he said, “we fed off ‘em. You never like to see anybody get hurt out there, but that’s the way it’s done, boys.”
Pike didn’t say anything and he put the ball in his locker and showered and got out of there. Something was off, scary weird. He was an average player, never a hard hitter or great tackler, in the lineup now his senior year at free safety only because they didn’t have anyone better. He weighed 165 pounds dripping wet, and he had no business knocking two guys out of the game, and hospitalizing one of them.
Something was way THE HECK wrong.
***
Cathy said, “Are you hungry? That was some game.”
“I’m starved,” Pike said. “Like you wouldn’t believe … What were you thinking?”
“In-N-Out’s fine,” she said. “I know that’s where you want to go.”
“Okay let’s make it quick then,” Pike said. “I’m thinking I want to try to stop off and see that kid.”
“That’s sweet of you,” Cathy said, and she slid next to him in the pick-up and put her head on his shoulder as they drove to the burger place, which was out near the Interstate, 12 miles away, but there was nothing open late in town that was any good so you did what you had to do.
Pike wolfed down a double cheeseburger and an animal fries like it was a bite-sized appetizer, so he ordered another.
Cathy said, “My, we’re hungry tonight … Which I can understand.”
Pike said, “You mean because it was a hard game? Or I’m nervous about how that guy is?”
“Well, yeah, both those things … Something else. Did you know tomorrow’s our three-month anniversary of going out?”
“No,” Pike said. He liked Cathy a lot. They got together over the summer, at Dirk Riebli’s party, it sort of happened while they were playing Marco Polo in the pool. He wasn’t great with times and dates, but three months sounded about right.
“I felt different out there tonight,” he said.
“I know. You were amazing.”
He started to say more, wanting to tell her you don’t understand, there was something going on, there may still be, but he decided to leave it alone.
***
The kid, named Anthony DiVincenzo, had checked out okay in the emergency room, but they wanted to keep him overnight for observation so they admitted him.
The nurse informed Pike that visiting hours were over. Pike said he’d make it quick and she shrugged her shoulders and told him the patient was in 119.
Anthony’s parents were in the room, and Pike introduced Cathy and himself. The dad was huge and a spitting image of the kid, though the mom was tiny.
The dad said he appreciated them coming, though it was obvious he didn’t. The kid was sitting up, sipping something through a straw. He had one of those soft neck braces on.
“Just so you know … ,” Pike started to say.
The kid waved his hand. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “You got me fair and square. I’ll pay you back next time.” His voice was thin.
Which was a relief, the kid taking it well. Except Pike was pretty darn sure there’s not going to be a next time, that football wasn’t worth it if this is what happens.
Cathy was talking to the mom and they laughed about something, and Pike didn’t know what else to really say to the guy. He asked how the season had been going so far, and does the kid play basketball or baseball too. The kid said he didn’t, but he wrestled.
There was some noise at the door and someone bounded energetically into the room. It was the Bellmeade coach, smiling and carrying a box of candy under his arm.
He spent a minute with Anthony and then said to Pike, “You’re 22 unh? That was some hit, son.”
Pike said, “Sorry.”
“Are you kidding?” the coach said. “You can play on my team any day. You came flying up in there like a brick shithouse.”
“Yeah, well,” Pike said
“We watched film on you guys,” the coach said. “Didn’t see nothing like that out of you. Where you been storing it?”
The coach winked and punched him on the shoulder, and Pike and Cathy said goodbye all around. Pike realized he was still hungry and wondered if the hospital had some kind of cafeteria that stayed open, but he let it go.
Cathy asked did he want to go back to her house for a while, as her parents were out playing bridge, and those things tended to run late. Pike said that sounded great, except that he was shot.
He kissed her goodnight and watched her go inside, and he went home and slept 12 hours, which normally would have been great, except for he was tossing and turning the whole damn time.
Chapter 2 Good Measure
Pike showered and came downstairs and his sister Jackie and little brother Bo were sitting in the kitchen eating peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. His mom Alice was doing dishes.
“Where’s dad?” Pike said.
“He’s been waiting for you to wake up,” his mom said.
“Always easier to sleep than work,” Jackie said.
“You did good last night,” Bo said. “That one guy, he went ka-boom!”
Pike reached down and messed up Bo’s hair. “How about you get me some Wheaties then,” Bo said, “so I can stall longer before I have to help Dad.”
He had two bowls of cereal and added a peanut butter and jelly for good measure, and went out back to see what his dad was up to.
There’d been a leak in an underground pipe, which Pike’s dad had to break up part of the walkway to repair. Now he’d prepped the area and was mixing cement to finish off the job.
“Hiya PK,” Bill, the dad said. “Nice of you to join us … Bring me that bag, if it isn’t too much trouble.” His dad was smiling. He was an easygoing parent, didn’t put much pressure on Pike or Jackie or Bo, didn’t attend any of Pike’s games unless Pike asked him to, which he hadn’t last night.
“Sure, piece of cake,” Pike said. It was a sack of dry cement mix. He tried to reach underneath it but the bag was leaning against the garden shed and he couldn’t get his hand around it. So he pulled on the top to free it up so he could grab it.
As he pulled, realizing with alarm that he was holding the top of the bag with just his thumb and index finger, the bag came off the ground.
Pike dropped it and eyeballed the label and it looked as big as a movie screen.
QUICKRETE 90-lb Gray High Strength Concrete Mix
“What’s the problem over there?” Bill said. “We gotta work relatively quickly here, in case you were wondering.”
Pike picked up the bag the normal way and brought it to his dad and dumped it into a mixing trough that his dad was squirting the hose into. He went back over to the shed and looked in.
There were four more 90-pound sacks of the dry cement. Pike stepped inside and closed the door. He grabbed two of the bags, one on his left, one on his right, using the same two-finger grip, the very tips of his fingers being all that were making contact with the heavy paper material.
He pulled upwards.
Both bags came off the ground. He continued slowly raising his hands until they were at eye level, and then hoisted
them all the way up over his head like he was signalling a touchdown.
It happened as easily and effortlessly as though the bags were empty.
Pike put the bags down and stood there, hyperventilating, sweating, not from any exertion but from the fear of what was happening to him, or already had.
He stepped out of the shed and told his dad he’d be back in a minute. He went up to his room, took off his shirt and looked in the mirror. Everything seemed the same. If he looked at himself sideways and tightened his arms, his biceps may have been bigger by a fraction, compared to maybe six months ago, but he was pretty sure that was from summer weight training.
Pike had a boxing workout bag hanging in the corner of his room. It was called a heavy bag, was filled with sand, one of those upright type deals that resembled an opponent. You put on padded gloves to hit the it because there was almost no give.
“God damn it,” Pike said, as he punched the bag with his bare hand, a short right-hand blow delivered from the shoulder. He pulled his hand away and there was a fist-sized indent in the bag, and the vinyl exterior had torn open and sand was spilling out.
There was a little trickle of blood across his knuckles. So my skin, it’s normal, or what?
But there was very little pain, on his skin or anywhere inside his hand, and something told Pike he could have just driven his fist through a brick wall and he wouldn’t have felt much then either.
Chapter 3 The Mall
Pike and Cathy went to the mall on Sunday and stopped at the movies on the way back. The movie was about an adopted guy from Arkansas who spends years trying to track down his original parents. It was supposed to be a real feel-good movie, and Cathy was crying at the end.
“What?” Pike said, as they were getting up.
“Their bond,” Cathy said, “it was so strong it survived everything they went through.”
“Were they that bad off though,” Pike said, “if they’d never connected?”