Time Control

by Rex Bolt

  Marcus’s death was on the news that night. Dani watched carefully, and was relieved there was nothing graphic or detailed about Marcus being shot into the wall like he had been. Dani thought about it and realized the police were holding back details, which was probably quite typical where a case was still wide open.

  She checked online Sunday morning and several local papers picked it up, but it was all the same one story, written by Lincoln Paul of the Bannock County News.

  Pocatello Man Killed in Alleged Domestic Violence Incident

  October 2nd, 2016 - A 28-year-old Pocatello man died Saturday in what police describe as a domestic argument that escalated into violence.

  Marcus Roberts, of 128 South 5th Street, was pronounced dead at 2:47 pm in the apartment he shared with his girlfriend, Dani Andriessen.

  No one has been charged, according to police.

  During the alleged dispute, Roberts brandished a firearm, authorities said.

  Andriessen then reportedly kicked Roberts in the chest and he allegedly fell backward and never regained consciousness.

  Roberts was a 2012 ISU graduate and most recently worked as a computer coder for Ark Tech Systems in Chubbuck.

  Andriessen is a 2nd year kindergarten teacher at Oak Grove School in Blackfoot.

  A Pocatello police spokesman said their investigation is ongoing.

  Nothing terrible there, fairly tame in fact, except Dani didn’t like the ongoing part. She knew the police were simply doing their job, and they were obviously having trouble wrapping their minds around Marcus getting from point A to point B, but still.

  There was a family from last year, from school, that Dani became friendly with. They told her their son loved being in her class every day, and they gave her a little gift at the end of the school year. The husband was an attorney, Dani had no idea what kind, but she looked him up and gave him a call, and he generously came right over.

  The attorney, Austin, asked her to re-tell it, listened intently and said he knew someone ‘downtown’, as he put it, and to not worry, they should be able to resolve it on Monday.

  The last thing he asked Dani, the key to the whole business he said, would she be willing to re-enact that drop kick that finished off Marcus?

  Dani said she would, and Austin shook her hand and left.

  Monday afternoon they were back in the same room at the police station, and the mean and the nice detective grabbed the two ends of the long table and moved it out of the way, and they set up a padded dummy, which Dani guessed they used in their own defense training.

  “So then,” the nice detective said, “May as well let fly ma’am, whenever you’re ready.”

  Dani looked at Austin and he nodded. She wanted it to look convincing, but nothing superhuman, so she reined it in just enough, and she left her feet and delivered a solid blow to the chest of the dummy, the thing skittering into the near wall. Though it didn’t obliterate any sheetrock or wall studs.

  “Not bad,” the mean detective said. “Although the result ain’t quite the same, is it?”

  Austin interjected, that when you factor in an adrenaline rush with a victim who fears for her life, you get an exponential degree of force.

  The detectives were acting unconvinced. So Dani said to the mean one, “If you’d like to take the place of the dummy, we can try it again … I believe I can recreate my mindset better with an actual human in front of me … Especially if he has a gun.”

  The two men looked at each other. It was clear they wanted no part of the scene from the apartment, whether they believed exactly what happened or not.

  The nice detective said to Austin, “We’re good here, I believe. Y’all can go.”

  Austin said, “You believe?”

  “Yeah, we got classic self defense,” the detective said. “We were looking for something … extenuating … but I don’t believe we’re about to find anything.”

  “So that’s it, then?” Dani said.

  “You got it,” the mean detective said, winking at her. “Was a tough deal you went through … No hard feelings …You did good.”

  When they were outside Austin smiled and said, “That was effective, your offering to demonstrate directly on the one guy.”

  “Well, it seemed more natural that way,” Dani said, “and thank you so much for your help.”

  What she left out, which she couldn’t help thinking, was if that detective had actually taken her up on it, things could have gotten interesting in there.

  Chapter 24 Hat Flip

  Between third and fourth period on Monday Pike took a swig from the outdoor water fountain and when he lifted up there was a hand on his shoulder, firm, and as he turned to look, a fist caught him squarely in the mouth.

  “You little piece of pond scum, “Jack Hannamaker said. “Right in my face!”

  Pike was dabbing at his mouth with the back of his wrist and thinking, What?

  Then he remembered sitting in the family room with Audrey Friday night at Marty Clarke’s house, holding her hand. Someone obviously fed it back to Hannameker. It wasn’t at all accurate, what this crazed dude was worried about, not even close, but it would be pointless to try to explain that. In fact the guy would probably throw another right hand.

  So Pike walked away … Or tried to.

  But Hannamaker pursued him from behind.

  Pike sometimes wore hats to school, baseball type caps. A few teachers made you take them off in class, but most didn’t care. Today he had on one of his favorites, a 49ers hat that a defensive tackle he admired, Jason Smith, had signed on the underside of the bill. It was from a few years ago, his dad had taken him to a game in Santa Clara when the new stadium first opened, and they waited afterwards outside the player parking lot, and Smith signed his cap.

  That particular hat, he tried to take care of it, he didn’t wear it to school much. Maybe if Hannamaker had known that, he would have understood. But Jack came up behind him, pulled the hat off, threw it down and stomped on it, and then spit on it.

  Jack started to add, “And I better not be hearing–” when Pike whirled and delivered a spinning backhand to the side of Hannamaker’s head, and you could hear bones fragmenting like the sound you might get if you shattered a thin glass globe with a hammer.

  Jack ended up in the hospital, down the hall actually from Foxe’s dad who was still recovering from the incident with Mr. Milburn. They were going to suspend Pike, but then by the end of the period a few kids came forward who saw it, and it was clear Jack was the instigator. Pike prayed that would be the end of it, though word spread quick and people were coming up to him in the hall the rest of the day, saying DAMN.

  ***

  Pike was in the living room with his dad and little brother Bo watching the Monday night game, Cleveland and PIttsburgh, a light snow falling on TV, when Audrey called.

  Pike went upstairs to take it.

  “I feel awful,” she said.

  “Nah,” he said. “No big deal … I just wish I could hang onto my temper better.”

  “My goodness,” she said, “from all accounts, anyone would have reacted that way … I mean it, Jack should be ashamed of himself, you didn’t sign up for that.”

  “Well how’s your dad?” Pike said.

  “Thank you for asking. He’s home … He has legal issues now obviously … I try to not think too far ahead.”

  Pike said, “You know something? You’re a darn good kid.”

  “Kid?”

  “Daughter. And yeah, kid too.”

  “You’re funny.”

  “They say how long … Jack’ll be in there?” Pike said.

  “Yes,” Audrey said. “At least a week. Maybe more. Apparently it depends on how soon they can schedule the surgery.”

  “Hmm … In that case … would you feel like going out this weekend?”

  There was a silence. Pike was certain he’d stepped way over the line, and that this development didn’t sit well a
t all with good, wholesome Audrey, especially with her tragedy still sickeningly fresh.

  “Sure,” she said.

  “You’re kidding,” Pike said.

  “All right, forget it then.” There was a slight playfully devilish touch to the way she said it, and it was the wrong time to be thinking about it, but he couldn’t help wonder what else might be underneath the surface.

  ***

  On Tuesday Pike tried a couple times to stop in and speak to Mr. Gillmore, the astronomy teacher, but Mr. Gillmore was tied up and suggested tomorrow morning before first period.

  It killed Pike to get up a half hour early but he did, and he met Mr. Gillmore in the teachers’ lounge on the third floor. Pike couldn’t believe what a mess it was, newspapers and magazines strewn all over the place, plus some used beverage cups with straws sticking up out of them, and a couple of jackets laying there on the floor, like little kids in elementary school forget to bring home. Jeez.

  Mr. Gillmore was drinking what smelled like a strong cup of black coffee. “Not sure if you remember me,” Pike said. “Gillette? Sophomore biology?”

  “Of course I do,” Gillmore said. “I don’t forget many students, and it’s always a pleasure when they come back, as you are doing. As I recall, you were a nice boy, respectful, a bit of a class joker, and an indifferent student. Which is fine.”

  “That’s the polite way of saying I got a C, I guess,” Pike said.

  “Oh I’ve long maintained that grades at the senior high school level, and even in college and beyond, are quite unnecessary. We need to re-think our approach.”

  “That’ll never happen though, will it,” Pike said.

  Mr. Gillmore liked that and nodded. “Doubtful indeed … But if our young leaders step forward—and I’m including you in this grouping—we can effect gradual, if not dramatic change.”

  Pike fiddled with a loose pencil. “Sounds good,” he said.

  Mr. Gillmore said, “But that’s not why you’ve come in, I don’t suppose.”

  “No … Uh, sir, my question would be … Can we travel back in time … even though you never hear of anyone doing it.”

  The teacher lit a cigarette. “Don’t tell anyone I’m smoking,” he said. “Now the question you pose, it’s a most interesting one of course. There is evidence that even primitive man pondered the same concepts on some level … It’s part of the human condition, I’m afraid.”

  “I’m more wondering about today … scientifically, or even some other way … Ridiculous to think anyone really could, though. Right?”

  Gillmore took his time. “I’m afraid it’s not for me to interpret could or couldn’t, Pike … Suffice it to say, there’s a segment of science now that is looking hard at the concept of interdimensional space. It would logically follow, then, that interdimensional time is conceivable.”

  “Fine, whatever … Bottom line. Can anyone cross into those … other dimensions, then, is my big question I guess.”

  “That is one theoretical belief, yes it is,” the teacher said.

  “So … but just because interdimensional time is possible,” Pike said, “what makes them think we can, like, tap into it?”

  “You make an astute point. Who knows, given the radical pace at which physical science is progressing, we may indeed gain some of these answers in your lifetime.”

  Pike was frustrated. “But forgetting all that,” he said, “how about you personally, if someone put a gun to your head, not for real but you know what I mean … you believe in that shit?”

  “I do,” Gillmore said. “Not as eminently logical as the existence of other civilizations and so on, but I believe our ability to venture back in time, and possibly forward as well, is substantial.”

  Pike let out a big, built-up exhale. “Now you’re touching on something else too,” he said. “What, you think those other civilizations, they can visit us?”

  “Absolutely … and not to add too many layers of complexity, but there are those who theorize that our own species, from the distant future, has done just that.”

  Holy shit, what a nutcase this dude is turning out to be. “Hold on now,” Pike said. “You kinda lost me there … if we could just deal with the first part … Saying there were civilizations out there—which seems totally unlikely—how the heck could they ever get here?”

  The teacher smiled. “I like your spunk. Let me insert also what a pleasure it is to have a student be passionate about these universal questions, when you have clearly developed the curiosity on your own, and nothing to do with a class, or a paper, or worse, a college application.”

  “What does that mean?” Pike said.

  “Oh, I’ve had students from time to time stop in during office hours and discuss scientific issues beyond the scope of the class … I can tell when their heart is not quite in it, however. Not surprisingly, the student later asks me to provide a letter of recommendation for a college application.”

  “That’s not a bad strategy actually,” Pike said. “If I were college material I’d try that too.”

  They both laughed a little. “You are of course,” Gillmore said, “college material.”

  “I’m honestly not … But now with football, I have a shot … I’m getting letters from schools, scholarship offers maybe. Just not sure what I want to do about it.”

  “I see … meaning?”

  “I may just want to be … a regular guy. Does that make sense?”

  “It certainly does. And being an irregular guy makes sense as well.”

  Oh boy. “Anyhow … ,” Pike said.

  “Yes, where were we?” the teacher said. “Your question was regarding the ease of interplanetary, or even intergalactic travel …”

  Mr. Gillmore’s phone rang and he answered. “Mary stop yelling,” he said into the phone. “Oh yes? Well you go fuck yourself too.”

  He put his hand over the mouthpiece and told Pike he was sorry about the language, but he needed to take this, and Pike picked up his stuff and waved a thank you, though he wasn’t sure what he was thanking him for, and got on with his day.

  Chapter 25 The River

  Hamilton was playing Curtis on Saturday, a rare afternoon game, and then they had an off week, a bye, and then one more game, at home, before the sectional playoffs. Which they were already penciled into, probably even it they managed to screw it up royally these last couple games, which was unlikely.

  They were looking good at 5 and 2. They’d lost their opening two, but those were against outside opponents and didn’t count as league games. Then, starting with the Bellemeade game, they’d gone undefeated, all in CFC play. Pike supposed it would be nice all around if they could run the table.

  Coach Geddes hadn’t directly singled out Pike at practice on Monday, with the Hannamaker incident still on the front burner from that morning, but he did warn the team during a water break how they need to keep their poise, on and off the field.

  Tuesday had been practice as normal, but Wednesday, the day Pike met with Mr. Gillmore, Coach took him aside and told him if he heard one more unfavorable thing he’d be suspended from the team, he didn’t give a rat’s ass how well he was throwing the ball.

  By this point a rumor had circulated that it was Pike who broke the steering wheel off the basketball kid’s car, Cox, and Coach was likely factoring that in. Not to mention the fight in the backyard with Foxe.

  Pike kept quiet and nodded his head. He could respect Coach in a way, if he was willing to maybe lose a game while suspending a good player on principle. Though Pike doubted Coach’s principles would go so far as to keep him out of a playoff game. But the man was right, why keep pushing it?

  That night he called Mitch.

  “Anything?” Pike said.

  “Not much. How’ve you been?”

  Pike didn’t feel a need to tell him about hospitalizing Hannamaker. “So-so,” he said. “You hear anything else on that Texas guy … he’s still … alive and e
verything. Right?”

  “Oh yes,” Mitch said, “I’ve checked in on that. Guy’s name is Tim. No obvious improvement in strength, but no further appreciable decline either.”

  “This is a dumb question,” Pike said.

  “No such thing.”

  “Well what’d they do with that filling they took out? I mean do they just throw ‘em away in a case like that? … Or what.”

  “Believe me, it’s something I’m pursuing,” Mitch said. “Normally yes, they are disposed of along with the normal medical waste, the same as someone who had a tooth extracted, or part of a gum cut away in a procedure.”

  “Ah c’mon,” Pike said.

  “In this case, it’s unclear right now what happened to it.”

  “Oh great … And why is that?”

  “Just a feeling I have. Tim was slightly vague, when I brought it up.”

  “What—you think he may held onto it?”

  “There is that possibility.”

  Pike said, “So ask him what happens when he puts it back in his mouth … Or holds it in his hand, or whatever … Ask him like you already know he has it, and see what he says.”

  “That’s pretty good,” Mitch said. “Something else I’m seeing … sounds like you may be buying in after all.”

  “Let’s not get carried away,” Pike said. “I’ll admit I did look up what was in the damn things … Just to educate myself.”

  “Fair enough. No need to admit it, but you’re wondering the same thing I am. Was there something different in this one?”

  Pike didn’t want to go there, so he said, “All you UFO believers and what-not … going back in time part of all that too?”

  “Interesting you apply that part of it now, Pike. Where’d that come from?”