by Shawn Inmon
Abigail dropped the paper into her lap. “There’s more, but that’s enough.”
Joe sat, expressionless, looking at Abigail.
If that’s not enough to convince her, I don’t know what will be.
Abigail mechanically folded the paper and slipped it back into the envelope, the whole time looking down at the task at hand and not at Joe.
Finally, she looked at Joe with new eyes. “I can’t explain this.”
“Sure you can. I’ve already given you the answer. Somehow, I’ve traveled in time. What other explanation could you possibly have for the envelope you’re holding in your hand?”
“I don’t know. Occam’s razor says that the most likely explanation for an event is the simplest one. So, which is simpler, that you somehow snuck into my house and replaced the envelope you gave me with this one? Or, that you are a time traveler?”
Joe shrugged. “I think I know my answer to that question. What’s yours?”
Abigail avoided the question and mused, “I did once have another patient who claimed something similar.”
Joe sat bolt upright. “What was their name?”
“Joe, surely you know I can’t say. I’ve built my practice on patient confidentiality. But, she did give me several predictions like you did. The first came true, but the second was wildly wrong.”
“Yes, I’m sure. Things change. I am living a different life now than I was before. That impacts things in ways I can’t imagine, or predict.”
“I’ll need to think on this more. I’m afraid I can’t say I’m ready to accept it.”
“I understand. I would be the same way. I don’t know why it was important for me to convince you. I’ll just focus on the work we do in here now, because you’ve really helped me. Asking me to attend Al-Anon has been a big step forward.”
When the session wrapped up, Joe exited by the side door, right into the teeth of a December rainstorm. He pulled the hood of his coat up and hurried to the Oldsmobile. He climbed in, turned the key and pushed the defroster on high.
Important lesson. People can’t believe the impossible. Even when you prove the impossible isn’t really impossible, they still can’t believe.
Chapter Thirteen
On New Year’s Day, 1979, Joe sat cross-legged on the floor of the living room in his tiny apartment. The television was turned on and tuned to the Cotton Bowl, where Notre Dame and Houston were engaged in a wild, back-and-forth game.
Joe wasn’t really watching. Instead, he was bent over a piece of poster board. An array of colored pens were spread out in front of him.
This is tougher than I thought it was going to be. I’ve seen these logos thousands of times, but since they only exist in the future, all I’ve got is my memory.
He had already drawn three logos—Amazon, with its little smiley face connecting A to Z—Google, and Apple Computers. He was finishing the fourth, and toughest one, Starbucks. He looked at it with a tilt of his head.
Not perfect. But, perfect is the enemy of done, and I definitely want to be done with this project.
Across the top of the poster, he had drawn large, block letters that said, “Do You Remember These?”
The first item on his time travel to-do list had been, “See if there are other people like me.” He had considered different strategies for ascertaining this. He rejected the idea of walking up to strangers and asking them if they knew what happened on September 11, 2001. That’s a ticket to the loony bin, for sure. For a time, he considered taking out a full page ad in the Middle Falls Times, predicting a few events he knew were coming, but he decided against that, too.
Word would spread that some kid in Oregon was able to see the future, and the next thing I know, guys in dark suits and wearing earpieces would show up and drag me to Area 51 or something. No thank you, please.
Instead, he had settled on this strategy. Choose some images that anyone who had been alive after 1995 would be likely to know, and display it somewhere. He had chosen the Middle Falls Library, and had reserved one of their meeting rooms every Tuesday afternoon at 3:00 for the next few months.
The first Tuesday in January, he checked in with the librarian a little before 3:00. She showed him to the room and unlocked the door. “What’s your group about?”
Should have expected that one!
“Umm, it’s for people who read Science Fiction books. I’m just trying to get the group started, though, so I don’t know if anyone will show up for it.”
“That’s perfectly fine. The room is yours until 4:00, then the Locked Room Mystery Readers are having their monthly meeting.”
“Yes, Ma’am,” Joe said as the librarian bustled away. He set up the wooden easel outside the door and carefully placed his poster on it.
“And now, we wait,” he mumbled. He went inside, flipped the lights on and saw that the room was mostly empty. There was a single table in the middle of the room, and several stacks of chairs at the back. He grabbed one of the chairs off the stacks and sat down at the far side of the table.
It was a typical western Oregon January day outside, so Joe sat and watched the swirling winds and blowing leaves in the parking lot for a few minutes. He glanced up at the clock. 3:07.
Well, I didn’t expect to set up and have people beating down my door, did I? For all I know, there might be a million time travelers in the world, but maybe they are hesitant to reveal themselves. How would I react if I saw a sign like this?
Joe grabbed his backpack, pulled his copy of Foundation and Empire by Asimov out, and became lost in the book.
He was rousted from his reverie when a middle-aged woman poked her head into the room and said, “Hello?”
Oh, wow, that was fast after all!
“Hello,” Joe said with a friendly smile.
“I’m Midge Parker. We’ve got the room next. Just wanted to see if you were done in here.”
“Ah.” Joe looked at the clock once again and saw that the hour had flown by while he read. “Of course. Can I help you set up?”
“Thank you! That would be wonderful. Did your meeting end early?”
“Kind of. It wasn’t a great turnout,” Joe said as he followed Midge’s lead. He began unstacking chairs and arranging them in a row.
“I don’t recognize any of those pictures you have on your poster out there? Should I?”
“No, not really. It’s kind of a science fiction thing.”
“Oh, I see. We are mystery readers. We all read the same book each month, then discuss it here. Well, that, and Mary Ellen brings us all treats. Sometimes I think that is the bigger draw. You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like. Do you like mysteries?”
Aside from the incredible mystery that is my life, no.
Joe picked up his copy of the Asimov book and held it out to her. “This is more my speed.” The cover showed a futuristic city and two flying cars.
Midge tilted her head back and looked through her bifocals. “Oh, spaceships and the like. How exciting. You’d probably find our little murder mysteries boring, then.”
“No, not at all, but I’ve got somewhere else to be. Thank you for the invite.
“Well, thank you for helping to set up,” Midge said, as the door opened and three other ladies pushed through. One of them carried a serving platter with small cakes on it. As he passed, Joe said, “Looks good, Mary Ellen.”
She looked at him with surprise, but he had already picked up his easel and poster and was heading toward his car.
THE NEXT SEVERAL TUESDAYS passed the same way. Librarian, key, setting up, waiting, chatting with whoever had the room next, going home.
As Joe set up the first Tuesday in February, he wasn’t very hopeful. He put his sign out, then immediately settled in to read—Children of Dune this time around. Just before his hour was up, a woman wandered in. She was lovely, and looked only a few years younger than what Joe actually was. He felt his heart beat faster. She had shoulder length auburn hair, and even from across the room, Joe no
ticed her striking, emerald eyes.
She’s beautiful, but there’s no sense in getting hot under the collar. All she’s going to see is a teenage kid.
“Hello,” he said, turning to face her. “I’m Joe. Joe Hart.”
Joe had been sitting sideways to the door, and when he turned toward the woman, her eyes flitted involuntarily to his birthmark. She smiled kindly. “Nice to meet you. I’m Veronica McAllister.”
“Do you have a group meeting here next? I know my time is almost up. What are you guys? Book club?”
The woman shook her head.
She looks pale, and a little wobbly. Maybe she’s sick.
“Ma’am? Are you all right?”
“I think I need to sit down.”
Joe ran around the table and pulled out a chair for her. “Here, here. Sit down.”
She sat down, an odd expression playing over her face.
Man, why didn’t I meet you when I was a few years older. Oh. Wait. I know. Because I never left my freaking house. My soul mate could have been living half a block away and I never would have known it.
Joe left Veronica where she was and returned to his side of the table. He picked up his backpack and slipped his paperback inside. He glanced up at Veronica, then a thought occurred to him. “Wait. I assumed you were here for another meeting, because I’ve been sitting her once a week for months, and no one else has ever shown up. You don’t remember any of those things on the sign out there, do you?”
To his great surprise, Veronica nodded. Joe’s eyebrows shot up, but he had no idea what to say next.
“Google. Search engine. Amazon. The everything store. Apple computers. Starbucks coffee. But, how?”
Joe’s mouth fell open and he leaped up so fast that his chair tumbled behind him. He pumped his fist in the air, then leaned across the table. Veronica still looked uncertain of what was going on.
Joe stared intently into Veronica’s eyes.
“Hello, fellow time traveler.”
Chapter Fourteen
“Sorry. That sounded cheesy, didn’t it?” Joe said. “Like a line out of an old B movie or something. I should have had a smoke machine, or lasers, or something. I’ve been sitting her so long, I’d kind of given up on anyone like you coming in.”
“So, you’re like me, then? You...“ Veronica paused, apparently searching for the right word, “...passed away, and then woke up back in your younger self?”
Wait a minute. ‘Passed away?’ Died? That makes so much more sense. He closed his eyes for a moment. Like a movie, a scene unfolded in his head. He saw himself, his real self—the forty-four-year-old Joe Hart, stretched out on a couch, sleeping. The viewpoint moved to the cluttered kitchen table and zoomed in on the carbon monoxide detectors, then panned over to his gas furnace. Finally, the mini-movie in his head, returned to his own self. Joe watched himself draw his last breath and die.
I’ll be goddamned. That’s what happened, isn’t it? It’s like that was a memory, just waiting for me to be ready for it. Isn’t that typical? If I’d bothered to get the right batteries for those damned detectors, I’d still be in 2004. But, I’d also be still stuck in that same old rut. Not living life at all. Just existing. This is better. Now I have a chance to actually live.
“That’s exactly what happened,” Joe said, fully realizing the truth of it as he spoke the words. “I died, then woke up when I was eighteen years old again.” He looked at Veronica. “How old were you when you died and then woke up?”
“I was seventy-eight years old when I died, eighteen when I woke up. As you can see, I’m not that young anymore. I’ve been living this life for twenty years now, not that I’m doing a great job of it. But, how many lives is this for you?”
“How many lives?” Joe asked. “What do you mean?”
Oh, holy hell. She’s done this whole round trip thing more than once! This is exactly why I wanted to find someone else who had been through this. Maybe she can help me understand things a little better.
“You mean, if you die again in this life, you just start over somewhere again?”
“Apparently. At least, I did. Not somewhere, though. The exact same place.”
“Holy Toledo. Like a save point in a video game. So, if I ran into traffic and got hit by a bus, I’d wake up in the same spot I did this time?”
“As far as I know, but I took that route once, and I don’t recommend it. Those few minutes between being run over and starting over are extremely painful.”
“How many times have you, umm, started over?”
“Twice. I’m about to make it three, though. See if my luck holds.”
“Why?”
A shadow passed over her face. Joe peered at her more closely and saw bags under her eyes that indicated sleepless nights, or grief, or maybe both.
“We obviously have a lot in common, but there are things I don’t feel like talking about.”
“I can respect that.”
“My best advice is, don’t count on things staying the same. Just because someone died in one time frame, doesn’t mean they’ll do the same this life. Everything changes.”
Joe nodded. “I haven’t been back here that long, but I’ve already noticed that things change. In fact, that’s what I’m trying to do—change things. There are a lot of things I saw in my lifetime that I would have liked to change, and now, maybe I can.”
“You mean things in your own life, or ... “
“Both. I mean, I’ve already changed some things in my own life, but there are other things that I’d like to fix, too.”
Veronica nodded and gifted him with a sad smile. “I wish you luck with that, Joe. I mean it.”
But if she’s about to leave and start over again, I’ll never see her again. I don’t want to lose the only other person who can relate to where I am, as soon as I meet her.
“It would be interesting to have someone else with me, helping me. Right now, there’s no one else I can talk to. I don’t have a friend in the world.”
Veronica shook her head. “I don’t have the strength. But, if I wandered by and saw your sign, maybe someone else will, too. For all I know, Middle Falls is crawling with time travelers.”
Joe cleared his throat. “Have you, umm, you know, made yourself rich? It’s not as easy as everyone would think, is it?”
“No, I haven’t. And you’re right, it’s not all that easy.”
“I suppose, though, if you are able to go back again and again, you could figure it out. My problem is, I never paid any attention to the stock market, so I don’t know what to buy. I suppose I could buy land where Microsoft will eventually build their campus in Redmond, but that takes a lot of money to get started. But, if what you say is true and we start over again, a little bit of research now could go a long way when we were back there again.”
Joe saw his words hit home.
“It could,” Veronica said, smiling. “You’ve given me an idea. Thank you. I hadn’t figured it out. Just because I know Apple is going to build the iPhone, or that Blu-Rays are coming, doesn’t mean I have any idea how to build them. I’m not a technical person.”
Wait. Blu-Rays? What the heck is that? Is this woman from off in the future somewhere? Farther out than I made it?
“You don’t have to answer, but how far did you make it in your first life? What year was it?”
“2018.”
“Oh, wow. 2018. That seems like an undiscovered future to me.”
“How far did you make it, Joe?”
“Only to 2004. I’m guessing we probably didn’t get the long-promised flying cars by 2018, then?”
Veronica smiled and shook her head. “No. I’m sure there were lots of interesting developments those last fifteen years or so, but I was tuned out. I had retired, and was barely eking out my day to day survival. Not much fun.”
“You know, it’s hard to stand here, looking at you, still young and beautiful, and think of you as an old retiree, getting by on social security.” Nothing v
entured, nothing gained.
Veronica flushed. “I’d say that none of us that are walking this particular path are what we seem at first glance.”
Joe nodded to himself. “You haven’t met anyone else like us, then?”
“No. Honestly, I’d never even considered it. I thought this was just my own personal heaven or hell, whichever I manage to make of it.”
Joe stared at Veronica intently. “I wish you’d change your mind. It’s been lonely.”
Joe saw a faraway look in her eyes, as if she was considering.
“Thank you, Joe. You are very sweet. But I’ve got to go.”
And, just like that, she did. She stood and hurried out the door of the meeting room, then turned right toward the parking lot instead of toward the library proper. Joe ran to the door and yelled, “Wait!” but she was already in her car, pulling away.
Joe didn’t know whether to feel elated or depressed.
Okay, I know a lot more than I did, but that kind of hurts. I find someone who could be a real friend and companion, and she can’t get away from me fast enough. I know I shouldn’t take it personally, but, man, this sucks.
No one else had come in to claim the room, so Joe turned out the lights and closed the door. He walked to the librarian who unlocked the door for him every week.
“All done. I locked up the room.”
“Thank you, Joe. See you next week?”
“I’ll be here.”
And he was. He sat in that library every Tuesday afternoon for three more months, but never got another nibble.
Chapter Fifteen
Joe gave up on the idea of finding someone else in his situation. After a few months, the thought of it simply faded from his mind, and he focused on his life. He made plans for the future.
The rest of the year passed in a new kind of blur. Instead of just marking the passing of days by essentially living the same day over and over, he kept busy. He still had his appointments with Abigail Green every week, but their progress had slowed. Sometimes now, it felt like they were covering the same ground, over and over.