by Rex Bolt
Plus Hamilton was built in 1954, he had checked, so that met Mitch’s crazy criteria too.
He hadn’t thought about the closet being locked up, but he tried it and luckily it was open. There was a pretty good dose of a detergent smell in there, or bleach or whatever, but that didn’t bother Pike. The only concern now was Julio, the custodian … Was he around today, with the gym being open?.
Pike decided he probably wasn’t and went into the closet and closed the door. At some point we have to take our chances.
He sat on the ground and folded his legs. He covered his face with his hands and thought back to yesterday after school, when he’d purposely sat in the football stands for an hour, trying to clear his mind of all clutter, trying to set the stage for today, to give himself a target.
Now on the cement floor he focused on the metal stadium benches, the empty field, the crispness of mid-November in the air, the smell of the grass … The sounds of trucks passing by on the outskirts of town … A train whistle in the distance.
His breathing slowed. There was a stillness, a peace here.
The problem was, it was all good, but Pike didn’t feel like he was going anywhere . . .
Except that now he was feeling slightly funky. There was a bit of a spinning. It was different. Not like the spinning when you overdo it on a playset when you’re a little kid, and not like when you fall off something and hit your head … The spinning became a sudden shaking, but just for a moment, and then everything was smooth, and something told Pike to open his eyes.
He was in the stadium, on the bench, by himself. But when he looked down at the field, it wasn’t Hamilton High School. It was Maverik Stadium at Utah State.
He was back in Logan.
SON … OF … A … BITCH.
The strange thing, once he got his bearings, was he wasn’t alarmed, or particularly scared. The stadium clock said 4:42, which seemed about right, when you adjusted an hour for the time zone. No date up there on the scoreboard though.
Pike walked out of the stadium onto the campus and headed toward the main quad. There were students here and there, not a whole lot, which seemed reasonable since classes would have ended by now. It also could have been a weekend, you couldn’t tell.
At least thank God everyone looked normal, current, not like he was back in 1968 or something. Hopefully.
It seemed a strange question to put out there, to stop someone and ask what day it was.
But Pike needed to know, and he wasn’t thrilled with walking all over campus looking for the answer.
A guy and a girl came toward him, holding hands, pretty deep in serious conversation.
Pike held up his hand. “Excuse me,” he said. “Would you have today’s date please?” Asking for the date, and not the day seemed more reasonable, less likely someone would think he was mentally ill.
“Sure,” the guy said. “It’s the 18th.”
Now Pike realized that didn’t help. The 18th of what?
“Of … November?” he said. He had to ask, he couldn’t be worried if they think he’s nuts.
“Uh, yeah, you got it,” the guy said.
Pike wanted to confirm with the guy what year it was, but that was going a little too far. Or maybe not.
“2016?” he said timidly.
The guy and his girlfriend both nodded, but kept moving now. They didn’t seem interested in any further questions from Pike.
Let’s see, Pike was thinking. Today … at least MY today, is Saturday the 19th … So I butchered the location, but BINGO, that means I got the day right!
This would take practice, clearly. The main thing now … pleasant as it was out here … Could he execute Part Two? … Otherwise he’d a have a serious transportation issue to deal with, and only couple of bucks in his pocket.
The campus had a mix of old and new buildings. No point taking a chance on something being too modern, so he picked one that was definitely old enough, red brick, with decorative columns in the front and ivy growing up the side.
There were some display cases in the lobby, and it looked like maybe an anthropology building. There were classrooms and professors’ offices, and then a main auditorium. Pike went in there. The lights were on but it was empty and there was no sign of activity.
There was a small staircase that put you up on stage, and then there were curtains to either side, where actors, or professors or whoever, would enter.
Pike picked the left curtain, went behind it, sat cross-legged on the floor, and repeated the whole shebang, in reverse. He zoned in on Beacon, the high school, the football stands, late Saturday afternoon.
His breathing slowed and the spinning began again, familiar this time, comforting … and then the rattling, the moment of slightly violent shaking … and finally he looked around, and he was the on sidewalk in front of Audrey’s house.
He hadn’t intended to think about her, in that little alcove offstage behind the curtain, in fact he made a conscious effort not to, but he obviously had.
There was a newspaper slot next to Audrey’s mailbox, and there was a paper in there which hadn’t been picked up yet. Pike took it out and unfolded it and checked the date. It was today, Saturday the 19th.
Audrey lived a couple miles from school, and Pike supposed he should go get his car. He figured it would be a nice walk, and what was the rush?
So he took it slow, and drank it all in.
There were possibilities. Time would tell if he could pull them off.
For now, he was home.
THE END
The Pike Gillette Series continues with
Book 2:
TIME LAPSE by Rex Bolt
and Book 3:
TIME GAMES by Rex Bolt
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Copyright © 2017 Rex Bolt
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used ficticiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, or to any other works of fiction, is entirely coincidental.