“So what is this for?” the young salesclerk asks, trying to be sociable.
“It’s a prop for a play,” Beau answers.
“Nice,” she replies while punching numbers into a calculator to determine a cost. “The total comes to $14.90 including the plate and sales tax,” she tells Beau.
“How much would it cost for two of them?” Beau asks.
“That would come to $29.80, but would qualify you for our 10% sale, dropping your price to $26.82,” she tells him.
“Sounds good. Let’s do it,” Beau tells her, handing her his debit card.
He selects his font and opts for black inlay, then types his message into their computer. He double checks it for errors and hits enter. It should work perfectly, he thinks. Even if it rusts over time it will be readable with the deep laser cuts.
“Great,” the sales assistant says; “they’ll be ready in about twenty minutes if you’d like to wait around, or you could come back. It’s up to you.”
Beau steps out of the shop. Across the street, he spots a post box. He gets a letter addressed to himself, from himself, out of his car. He walks over to the crosswalk, across the street, and mails the letter.
With a little time to kill, he steps into a coffee shop on the corner. Inside, he orders a latte and sits by the window watching cars roll down Leary. The rain is still around but far weaker today than yesterday. The clouds are thinner and the day is noticeably brighter. Beau is excited beyond words to be in the position he’s in; the only guy in the world to get a message from the future. He no longer fears any attached responsibility, or feels overwhelmed by his fate, just pleased; he has the world in the palm of his hand. He smiles to himself in the coffee shop, almost to the point of laughter, then looks around to make sure no one thinks that he’s gone mad.
Beau takes a look at his watch; twenty minutes have lapsed. He walks back over to the engraving shop and picks his plates up. The woman pulls one out of its packaging to show him the results. He’s thrilled with it.
“Well thank you so much for your business and keep us in mind if you need to say make any awards for your play, or for any of your engraving or key-cutting needs,” she adds.
“Will do,” Beau says taking the bag. He leaves the shop satisfied.
Moonliner 4:08
“If you think about it,” Kendra tells Beau as they walk over train tracks across the Helix Pedestrian Bridge and into the Olympic Sculpture Park; “you and I are the first to know, or essentially discover that asteroids can have rings.”
“I guess that’s true,” Beau answers looking down at a freight train parked beneath the bridge; “reported to us from the future but making us the first in history to discover it. It’s simply a different mode of discovery.”
“We should have placed some kind of bet on the asteroid,” Kendra regrettably suggests.
“I don’t think we could have,” Beau tells her; “you can bet on about anything in this world, but I don’t think there’s a casino for asteroids,” he says; “at least not yet!” he adds to prevent the comment from being taken as an insult.
It has now been a few weeks since the second message was received. Kendra has come around and is completely convinced that the messages were indeed sent from the future. Just the same, they’ve agreed to wait out the final prediction, the discovery of a ringed asteroid, before returning to Vancouver to leave one of the two engraved plates beneath the stone in Stanley Park. The other plate is merely a souvenir or tangible keepsake by which to remember their adventure.
“Don’t you think it might be dangerous leaving a message for this guy with our names on it?” Kendra asks Beau.
“What do you mean?” Beau asks in return; “You’re the one who wanted me to do this in the first place.”
“That’s before I bought into it,” Kendra says; “before I thought it was real.”
“Nothing happens overnight remember,” Beau says. “Besides, we only left our first names on the plate.”
“Do you think we’ll still be around in 2069?” Kendra asks.
“I hope so,” he answers; “we have some real incentive now. Who knows, maybe we can compare metal plates with future guy,” he suggests.
They walk into Olympic Sculpture Park and along the bike path looking for a dry place to sit down. At last, they come up on a bench not far from Split, a stainless steel tree. They have a seat and take a moment to rest after their walk from lower Queen Anne, where Kendra works. The day is damp and cool, on the verge of cold. Ferries cross the silver surface of Elliott Bay. Beau watches two of them appear to collide from his distant vantage point as they pass each other pointed in opposite directions. Time stands still in moments of reflection for each of them as various distractions in the panoramic landscape draw their attention. It’s relaxing for them to be here, despite the cool, wet weather.
Kendra searches her IPAD and Beau his phone for news of the ringed asteroid.
“What if it doesn’t happen?” Kendra asks; “if we can’t find any news of an asteroid? Would that change your outlook? Would you still believe he’s from the future?”
“Yes,” Beau answers; “though it would throw a monkey wrench into the equation. If the guy is truly from the future, why get that wrong? Again, my first assumption would be that history somehow mistook the event.”
“So you would assume he’s from the future and telling the truth,” Kendra says.
“Yes,” Beau answers; “at least as far as he knows.”
A train rolls slowly down the track beneath the footbridge, carrying three huge, green fuselages to be used in new airliners. It’s a sight unique to few parts of the world, to see these massive bodies of soon to be airplanes being hauled on flatbed train cars, off to the Boeing plant.
“I wonder what this place will be like in 2069,” Beau says looking around.
“He hasn’t told us anything about his time,” Kendra says.
“That’s probably wise on his part,” Beau answers.
A ferry’s horn echoes across the bay as it nears the downtown pier for docking.
“There it is!” Kendra announces while using her fingers to expand a news story on her tablet, now seemingly happy to see one of the predictions come true. She taps open a video and they both watch a news report of the discovery.
“The first-known ringed asteroid has been discovered; 10199 Chariklo circles the sun between the orbits of Saturn and Uranus,” the first headline video reports.
“Three US Secret Service members have been sent home from the Netherlands just prior to President Obama’s arrival due to what has been described as a ‘drunken incident’
“North Korea has fired two mid-range ballistic missiles as the US, Japan, and South Korea meet to discuss security threats in the region.”
Beau and Kendra stare over the water, once again deep in thought.
“It’s time to go,” Beau tells Kendra; “back to Vancouver.”
“I know,” she responds. “What if we miss a message from him?” Kendra asks.
“When I was working with my radios last night, I set up a system using my shortwave and my memo recorder,” Beau answers. “If I leave the radio on at the frequency we received his first two messages, and my memo reorder next to it in voice activated mode, it should pick up any new signal that comes across the radio while we’re away.”
“Are you sure it will work?” Kendra asks.
“I’ve tested it and it worked last night,” Beau answers.
“He could be leaving a message right now,” Kendra suggests.
“From the sound of his voice on the last message,” Beau says; “I doubt he’ll send another one without first hearing back from us.”
Pacified by their surroundings, Kendra and Beau enjoy their afternoon watching ships roll by. The stress of Beau’s unemployment has all but faded under the limelight of their new friend from the future; the future guy. Sure, money remains an issue for them but their discovery has presented them with a greater opportunity
to be a part of something larger than their careers, larger than themselves, even larger than life. A lot is resting on the delivery of the engraved plate.
“It blows my mind that we’re sitting here knowing that this guy’s messages traveled back in time and he still doesn’t even know it,” Kendra says.
“We’ve gotta get that plate under the stone,” Beau tells her.
“You know, I’ve got a three day weekend and you’re still jobless,” Kendra says; “Why not this weekend?” she asks.
“Sounds good to me,” Beau answers.
Kendra feels a raindrop hit her scalp, then another her hand.
“We should go, it’s starting to rain,” she tells Beau.
“It is?” he asks just before feeling a drop on the back of the neck.
Kendra pulls an umbrella from her handbag and they begin walking back toward the city. The rain picks up as they make their way, quickly turning into a light shower. They share the umbrella as they walk. The rain only gets worse as they cross the Helix again. Fortunately, there’s an available yellow cab stopped at the light just beyond the bridge. They flag the cab down and have the driver take them their car, parked at Kendra’s office about a mile away.
Moonliner 4:09
A steady rain sets in just as Beau and Kendra finish loading their car for their trip to Vancouver.
“Are you sure you wanna do this today?” Beau asks one more time as he looks out at the rain.
“Absolutely,” Kendra answers; “I need the vacation.”
They batten down the hatches of their townhouse, jump in the car, and set out on their journey. They roll down the hill and into Fremont along 34th where, they get one last look at the ships and houseboats docked along the northern edge of Lake Union. They drive past Gasworks Park and on to the I-5 Bridge, where they get on the interstate and head north.
Traffic is busy but flowing past Northgate Way and out of Seattle. The rain isn’t helping things, but doesn’t seem to be adding too much stress to the drive either. Their Prius is still pretty new and everything works well, including the wiper blades. The day is dark but visibility isn’t that bad. The flow picks up and the traffic thins once beyond Everett, where a lot of cars exit the interstate. Three lanes become two.
“Drive safely,” Kendra tells Beau as he passes a semi in the rain; “just think, if we were to get into an accident and couldn’t put the plate under the rock, history would be lost and future guy would never know his messages went back in time.”
“That’s true,” Beau replies with a laugh; “we’re on a quest to deliver the precious plate to the guy from the future.”
They stop in the heart of the Skagit Valley to fuel up at a station just outside Mt Vernon.
“This is where the tulip festival is held, isn’t it?” Kendra asks Beau as he fills their car with premium fuel.
“Yeah, I think we’re a little early though,” Beau answers; “It usually runs during the month of April.”
“That’s only three days away,” Kendra mentions.
“Do you feel like driving over there and taking a quick look around to see if we can see any tulips?” Beau asks.
Kendra doesn’t even answer; the smile on her face says it all. Beau pays at the pump and they drive away. A few miles later they find themselves driving between endless fields of tulips, in a vast plethora of bright colors. The bulbs have yet to truly open but appear to be on the brink of it.
Beau looks at Kendra as she looks out of her window at the ceaseless colors. She looks more beautiful to him than she ever has. There’s something new to their relationship and Beau can feel it, something brought on by the radio transmissions. He stares at her a few seconds longer than usual. She looks over and catches him staring. It’s been a long time since he’s looked at her that way. It makes her smile.
They pull over and get out of their car long enough to take Kendra’s picture standing in a field of ruby tulips. Beau is again momentarily stricken by her beauty in a way previously unnoticed. He’s briefly stunned. The day, however, is too dark to pull the light they need to really capture the moment in picture. The rain starts up again as they stand looking at Beau’s LCD display after taking a few shots. They get back into their car and continue looking at the tulip pictures on the camera. Beau soon starts the car, then gives it a second to warm up. They find their way back to I-5 and merge into the flow of interstate traffic, once again northward bound.
“How do you think this trip will change the world?” Kendra asks, looking out her window at the green valley.
“I don’t know,” Beau answers; “that’s a good question.”
“Thanks,” Kendra says, happy to get a compliment.
“What do you think?” Beau asks her, fueling the moment.
“I don’t really know either,” Kendra says; “but I think human history somehow hinges on this trip.”
“Really,” Beau asks; “how so?”
“I don’t know exactly,” Kendra tells him; “but I think if we didn’t put this box under the rock, history would be diverted or redirected somehow.”
“That’s pretty profound,” Beau tells her; “it makes this trip seem so important.”
“And here we stop to smell the flowers along the way,” Kendra says laughing.
They soon roll out of the valley, quickly ascending into a surreal alpine setting. The clouds are low lying around the short, scenic mountain range that lies just south of Bellingham, allowing Beau and Kendra to literally climb into them. Most of them accumulate around the mountains and within the coulees. At the summit, the interstate runs just below and parallel to the snowline.
“Do you think we could become famous?” Kendra asks, still daydreaming.
“Given how earth-shattering this discovery is,” Beau says; “I think our names will go down in history with this story at some point for those who research it, but I wouldn’t say famous, and I don’t think it will happen within our lifetime.”
“That’s okay,” Kendra replies; “In fact it’s better. We get the best of both worlds; a normal life and some notoriety after we die.”
“Well it’s a normal life minus this earth shaking experience,” Beau points out.
“That’s true too,” Kendra agrees.
“Keep in mind too,” Beau adds; “we probably haven’t heard the last of this exchange yet.”
“This is so exciting!” Kendra says.
“I wonder though,” Beau says; “if we’re going with or against the grain of nature by taking part in this.”
They drive past Lake Samish, which is much less visible from the interstate than from the train. I-5 is above the lake and separated from it by trees. The train, on the other hand, runs right along the water’s edge. They do finally manage to get a few quick but good glances at it before it fades into the rear view mirror. Even with the unscheduled, tulip stop they’re making good time. Time, nevertheless, doesn’t seem to matter today; they’re on vacation.
Kendra turns the radio on and tries to dial in a station. Signals fade in and out as they wind through the mountain pass toward Bellingham. She’s only able to pick up a few stations clearly but never for sustained periods. She manages to pick up a sports report.
“In sports news, African Story has won the Dubai World Cup with a time of 2:01.61,” the sports caster announces.
Kendra turns the radio off.
“That’s something we could have made some real money on,” Beau tells her, thinking aloud; “the Dubai World Cup. We could have cleaned up on that one.”
“I wonder who future guy really is,” Kendra says. “Do you think he’s married?” she asks Beau.
“I have no idea,” Beau answers; “I wonder if he’ll tell us more.”
“I think we should give him a new nickname,” Kendra says; “I’m tired of future guy. Besides, we thought of that one before we really believed his story. We should give him a more dignified sounding name,” she suggests.
“Ok,” Beau says, then thinks for a
while. “How about Time Bender?” he asks Kendra. “It has an aboriginal ring to it, don’t you think?”
“I like it,” Kendra says with a smile; “Time Bender he shall be called.”
“We could tell the border guards we come seeking the bender of time,” Beau says with a laugh.
“The bender of time from the north,” Kendra adds, putting a stinger on the joke.
A few minutes later, Kendra tries the radio again. It comes in clearly as they drive out of the mountains and through Bellingham. The rain has stopped and driving conditions are pleasant. Their excitement grows as they see their first sign for the border. It won’t be long now.
“What should we tell the guards if they ask us if we plan to leave anything in Canada?” Kendra asks. “They sometimes do,” she adds.
“We’ll tell them no,” Beau answers.
“What if they find the metal plate?” she then asks.
“Relax,” Beau replies; “there’s nothing on the plate to indicate we’re going to leave it in Canada.”
“What if they want to know what it is?” Kendra asks.
“I don’t know,” Beau says; “I’ll tell them it’s a prop for a play.”
“They’ll ask for details about the play,” Kendra tells him. “It has our names engraved on it.”
“Okay, Beau says; “I’ll tell them it’s from a former work project. They’re not going to see the plate anyway. It’s tucked tightly into an undetectable side pocket of my book bag. They’ll never look there.”
Moonliner: No Stone Unturned Page 15