by Anthology
Miles of tall grass bent under the bitter wind as it howled and swept across the inhospitable plain. Peter grabbed Evelyn’s hand to set out for help, but she quickly pulled away. Their pampered unshod feet were soon worn raw from tramping over the rough terrain toward a distant mountain.
The exhausted pair struggled for many hours to reach the summit. Treacherous cliffs surrounded them which were in turn encompassed by a vast, angry ocean. Three raging rivers of white water surged below, cutting off any means of escape. A great distance away a verdant patch appeared like a tiny emerald floating in a sea of rugged brush and sage grass.
Peter and his disgruntled mate, both now bruised and bloody, descended the ragged cliff. They discovered a small cave where they wearily collapsed, grateful to be protected from the unsparing wind that had taken its toll on their delicate skin. Evelyn had never been so hungry or thirsty, and her head threatened to split from a full-blown migraine. Her once manicured hands trembled from fear and caffeine withdrawal as she tugged the towel tighter around her body. She’d never been this miserable in her life, and that included a lengthy session at Bible camp the summer she turned ten—the year her parents divorced.
“You, you need to t-t-tell me what’s happened and where the hell we are.” Evelyn’s teeth chattered from the cold. She crossed her arms as she tried her best to remain calm. Her husband hung his head and felt her penetrating stare as he drew a deep breath.
“I signed up to find the fountain of youth. Going back in time I thought I could return to a younger me, you know, revitalized. On my way to work last week I discovered this unique travel agency that could send me back in time to anywhere and anytime. So I figured why not give it a try. There was supposed to be another session with the travel technician to fine-tune things. The guy left early, had the flu or something, and I took the control that you lost in the muck off his desk. Anyway, I had to reschedule the appointment so I never got all the information. I guess I, um, don’t know exactly where we are or what year was chosen.”
“You dragged me back maybe hundreds, possibly thousands of years to find a way to grow younger before you left me for another woman? ARE YOU INSANE? Never mind, just get me home!” Evelyn snapped, her red, angry face shook violently, now more from anger than from the cold.
During the next few hours Peter McAdams unburdened himself as his confessions poured over his stunned silent wife. He admitted his discontent and struggles with middle age, his best years gone, life holding more past than future. The affair began innocently enough, borne of boredom. He simply wanted to start over. This time he desired fulfillment, something more than a huge home on the lakeshore, foreign cars, and club memberships to show for his years of hard work to make senior partner at the firm.
“I-I’ve been thinking a lot lately about, you know, what I missed by not being a father, not leaving a legacy—not having someone remember I was here. I’d really like a son or two before it’s too late, or else what have I done this all for?” Peter cast his eyes down to look anywhere but at his shell-shocked wife.
Evelyn sat with her back against the hard stone of the cave, feeling suffocated as her husband’s words crashed over her like an endless wave. The damp wall was less chilling than her husband’s cold and hurtful confessions. This could not be happening. She felt as if she were viewing someone else’s life. For a long time she simply lost the ability to form words.
“Why did you wait all this time to tell me that you had a burning desire to reproduce? You decide when we are in the middle of who-knows-where to bring this up? Couldn’t you have mentioned this, oh I don’t know, say maybe thirty years ago?” Evelyn spat, feeling like she’d just been smacked with a shovel.
“Well, since you brought it up—I tried to have this discussion with you many times, but you always blew me off. It was never the right time. Your beloved tennis or some charity event came first, or you were too busy re-modeling something.”
“All right, you cheating bastard, you can have a divorce. In fact, as soon as you get me home I’m calling Jake Perlman. You remember Jake from Princeton, the one I should have married. He’ll be happy to represent me, and I hear he’s single again. You’ll be able to tote what’s left of your belongings in that little red sports car you’re so proud of.”
Begrudgingly they huddled together for needed warmth as they shivered under their dingy towels. Evelyn sobbed until rays of morning light pierced the deep blue horizon. Stiffness in their joints caused such discomfort they could barely sit up. Peter sneezed; his sinuses were swollen by the pollen-filled air.
From the stony shelter they searched for anything to stave off the hunger pangs that gripped their stomachs. They sucked the bitter juice from a spiny succulent plant Peter stumbled on while they gathered dry grass for bedding. Terrified, they watched a strange looking pride of lions in the distance and realized that they would serve as a perfect carry-out meal for hungry cats.
“No hard shell to crack and a soft creamy center. We’d make a tasty appetizer for that bunch—even without ketchup,” Peter snorted, his stab at brevity lost on his angry wife.
A small herd of woolly mammoths grazed several miles below the cave entrance, unaware their progress along the open savanna was being observed by two horror-stricken humans. What looked like a prehistoric lean tiger stalked a juvenile mammoth that lagged behind the protection of its herd. Its frantic bellow was stifled before the animal’s flesh was torn greedily from its bones by long teeth that resembled curved blades and glistened in the sunlight.
Mouths dry, lips cracking, Evelyn and Peter knew if they were to survive they must find sustenance soon. At daybreak, while thick ribbons of fog cloaked the valley, they grudgingly left the security of their cave. Picking their way with care, they descended the rocky cliffs to head toward the spot of green, their only chance for survival.
By some miracle they managed to slip unnoticed by a pack of scruffy, unusual looking wolves. All trace of the previous day’s chilly temperature was gone. The warmth of the rising sun drew a flock of giant black vultures. These harbingers of doom circled overhead while the pair pressed on to find shelter.
Peter and Evelyn stopped only when necessary to extract embedded thorns from their painful torn flesh. They steadily trudged toward a magnificent copse of lush trees. They knew they would not last much longer without water and relief from the blazing sun that scorched their burned, peeling skin.
Delirious and exhausted, they crawled under the canopy of an acacia tree and fell into a dreamless sleep. Lacy bits of sunlight dappled their raw skin. Unnoticed, an enormous green serpent unwound itself from a low branch. Its cold, piercing eyes regarded the dozing couple while its red tongue flicked the fragrant moist air.
They woke not knowing how long they’d slept, startled to find a young man and woman standing over them. Delighted at the sight of humans, they were surprised to see that the couple was naked, and unabashedly so. The beautiful woman’s knee length hair cascaded around her in thick black swirls. The man’s muscular tanned body could have been the model for Michelangelo’s David, complete with dazzling blue eyes. The pair reached to draw the weary travelers to their feet. The woman applied thick liquid from the pulp of a nearby plant to their festering wounds. Almost instantly their deep cuts and bruises healed, and they gratefully followed their rescuers.
They reached a hut sturdily constructed of bamboo, surrounded by huge leaves and palm fronds the size of tennis rackets. The warm breeze carried a spicy scent as they entered. The walls were resplendent, vines bursting with vibrant blooms that trailed inside, completely camouflaging the structure.
The young hostess held out a basket of luscious fruit that Peter and his wife greedily consumed, not concerned by the sticky juice that streamed down their chins. Their host split a large smooth coconut and offered their guests a drink. Later he arranged thick mats of woven palms for the approaching nightfall.
The four woke to the soft rhythmic thumps of generous raindrops and raucous
screeches of birds mingled with the chatters of monkey conversation. A chorus of frogs joined in.
Peter noticed their hut mates communicated through a series of nods and smiles, as though connected in a way that made speech unnecessary.
“I’m Peter and this is Evelyn.” Peter spoke slowly and deliberately, taking turns pointing to himself and his wife. He tried to coax names from the other couple, who gave him curious looks before he realized if they were the only two humans in this place, names were not needed. However, they appeared interested when Peter spoke and were eager to learn this form of communication.
Under Peter’s tutelage, they mastered words and phrases at such a rapid rate that scarcely a week had passed when they were nearly as fluent as Peter and Evelyn.
The pair reciprocated and introduced the new arrivals to the benefits of warm mineral pools, showers under cascading waterfalls, and taught them where to find food and springs of pure, delicious water.
It was paradise, Evelyn thought. Almost.
Several days later Peter and Evelyn followed their hosts to the entrance of a beautiful sanctuary in the middle of the garden. A stream of scintillating pale blue light surrounded a magnificent ancient tree.
“Forbidden,” the man said. “This place is . . .” He searched for one of the words Peter had taught him. “Hallowed.” He explained that the fruit was off limits, too, even though it dangled seductively from every branch of a particularly beguiling tree. “The knowledge of the universe is in the branches. Forbidden.”
Evelyn got the gist that to enter this sacred space and pluck from the tree would surely unleash dreadful retribution.
Time played out differently here as it seemed to flow in circles instead of the measured march toward a plotted destination. Every new day brought incredible things to discover within the overwhelming beauty of this enchanted region. There was an abundance of serene wild-life, and the creatures showed no fear of humans.
The absence of mosquitoes, biting flies, and other airborne annoyances that plagued them back home convinced Peter to cast his towel aside and embrace the nudist lifestyle. Peter noticed a renewed surge of vigor and stamina he’d not known since his carefree days of childhood, and his hair had grown thick and dark.
While he was having the time of his life, Evelyn sank into despair. She wondered if Peter would choose to stay behind should rescue come. Surely someone from the travel agency would come looking for them.
Paradise? Almost, but not quite. She craved her pomegranate martini lunches with friends, neighborhood gossip, morning beach runs, tennis, and clothes. She’d give anything to trade in her tattered towel for a sporty tennis outfit, and she longed for the companionship of her well-connected friends. Marnie, her friend and doubles partner, must be wondering why she’d been absent from their tennis tournament. Surely Marnie would launch an investigation to find her.
The police will be alerted, Evelyn thought.
Her mood lightened as she realized the authorities would certainly question neighbors, Peter’s coworkers, club members, and anyone who knew them. They were bound to discover a large sum of money Peter had paid to Timeshares Travel Agency, the last people to have contact with Peter before he disappeared. The travel agency must have a way to retrieve those trapped in another time without a transporting device.
After all, they were liable for this epic screwup, and their business was bound to suffer if they “lost” customers.
While Evelyn contemplated her plight, she heard the soft throaty call of an exquisite heron that was wading in the reeds in search of a mate. Iridescent dragonflies skimmed the surface of the clear water where Evelyn knelt for a drink. Absorbed in self pity, she splashed water on her tear-stained face and was astonished by her young reflection.
The crow’s feet and creases had vanished, and her short spiky gray hair was the color of glowing copper. She felt her lithe, thin body burst with the energy of a teenager. The road map of blue spider veins on her thighs had vanished. She peered once more into the water, not believing her eyes.
Maybe it wasn’t too late to save their marriage! Surely Peter had noticed her transformation.
What Peter had noticed was the other female.
Pain seared Evelyn’s heart as she observed him stealing glances at the beautiful young woman who was unaware of being watched.
Peter no longer seemed interested in returning home. In fact, he had grown accustomed to the quiet splendor of this sequestered place.
Early one morning while sitting under a coconut palm, Evelyn decided that when rescuers came, she would leave him here. This would save her the cost and humiliation of a sensational divorce. She’d simply tell friends that Peter was working overseas for an extended period, which could buy her time to plan a plausible story for his disappearance.
As the tension mounted between her and Peter, Evelyn noticed that the other woman was growing quite irritable toward her man. Busy brooding about the state of her life, Evelyn failed to notice the kind, handsome, seemingly flawless man who stole glimpses of her whenever possible.
While Evelyn gathered figs and mushrooms one day in a shady glen, she discovered Peter and the other woman; a crystal pond reflected them hand-in-hand and deep in whispered conversation. Evelyn crept closer to hear her husband regaling his enthusiastic subject with tales of Chicago and all its wonders.
You’d think he was the most powerful man in the world the way he’s going on, thought his furious wife. It sickened Evelyn to see the simpering female hang on every word uttered by that philandering old goat.
Her stomach churned as she listened to Peter. He promised his new trophy it would be no time at all before he had them back in Lake Forest. His new woman sat spellbound by the incredible places he described—theaters, restaurants, yachts, as well as maids and room service. Their new life together would be completed by a couple of children to fill the immense lakeshore home.
Evelyn’s fingers closed around a rock. One swift blow to the temple ought to do it, she thought. One blow, and . . . wait. If Peter is talking about Chicago, he must have found a way to get back home. And it was evident he planned to take his new conquest back with him while he left his wife behind.
Evelyn had planned to leave Peter here when the Timeshares folks finally showed up. Now it seemed Peter had a similar idea.
Evelyn’s mind spun. If she wanted to be rescued she would have to stalk the two from the shadows to stay close. If the other woman returned with them, so be it. Out with the old and in with the new, huh? Let her spend a Chicago winter in that outfit, Evelyn mused.
She quietly pursued them, creeping along at a generous distance until night fell. It seemed like hours before the two stopped to curl into each other’s arms under the protection of a sprawling tree.
Bone tired, Evelyn crouched behind a nearby thicket, worried that Peter suspected he was being trailed. He had periodically stopped suddenly to look behind him. She clapped her hand over her mouth to stifle a scream as the smooth scales of something long slithered across her bare ankle. A snake? She looked, but couldn’t see it. Eventually, the distant rhythm of her husband’s measured snores lulled her to sleep.
Evelyn woke, encapsulated in the gray mist that hung heavy as damp gauze. To her horror, Peter had vanished—along with his prize. She frantically retraced her steps to the crystal pool, terrified they would leave without her.
The earth quaked beneath her feet and thunder boomed, nearly felling her. Was the nearby mountain about to explode? The morning sky darkened and a deathly silence closed around her. Birdsong, animal chatter, croaks—all the natural sounds she’d grown used to hearing were replaced by an ominous, eerie stillness. She shuddered as a chill wove its way up her spine.
Suddenly Evelyn knew where her husband had gone.
She raced toward the middle of the garden, practically running into the abandoned man who pounded up beside her. They halted before a barrier of thick blue flames that surrounded the forbidden tree. Evelyn could barely s
ee Peter and his new woman through the blue light.
Shards of white-hot lightening burst from the sky while Peter and his woman shook behind two leaves the size of elephant ears. A golden piece of fruit lay at their feet, bearing two sets of bite marks. A heartbeat later, the couple vanished.
The flames disappeared, and in their place stood a radiant angel brandishing a flaming sword.
“The violators have been banished from paradise!” the angel announced. Then he, too, was gone.
Evelyn felt a soft touch on her bare shoulder.
She turned to meet the kind sapphire eyes of the man left behind. Held by his magnificent gaze, she felt their unexpected connection and instantly realized everything that had been missing from her life.
Evelyn no longer yearned for status that came from club presidencies and committee memberships, vacations to Monaco or cruises on expensive yachts.
In that moment she glimpsed her future with him and quickly bid farewell to her former life—along with her towel.
Tenderly, hand-in-hand, they made their way back to his hut.
After a delicious breakfast of fresh papaya and fish grilled over coconut shells, Evelyn studied the place and pondered how best to remodel it while her new mate sought a way to permanently rid paradise of that damn snake.
UNBORN TOMORROW
Mack Reynolds
Betty looked up from her magazine. She said mildly, “You’re late.”
“Don’t yell at me, I feel awful,” Simon told her. He sat down at his desk, passed his tongue over his teeth in distaste, groaned, fumbled in a drawer for the aspirin bottle.
He looked over at Betty and said, almost as though reciting, “What I need is a vacation.”
“What,” Betty said, “are you going to use for money?”
“Providence,” Simon told her whilst fiddling with the aspirin bottle, “will provide.”
“Hm-m-m. But before providing vacations it’d be nice if Providence turned up a missing jewel deal, say. Something where you could deduce that actually the ruby ring had gone down the drain and was caught in the elbow. Something that would net about fifty dollars.”