by Young, Luke
"I know what you're trying to do." He looks me in the eye.
"What?" I hear the sirens louder now and the sounds of brakes and gravel shooting up.
"Don't do it." He coughs right in my face. "Go."
I look at him confused until it hits me, then I'm grinning because this is perfect. But how does he know? I turn my head to the fresh air and take a deep breath. "No, I can get you out." I pull on the door, but it's of no use. I'm content this is how it will end. With me a hero and everyone happy, even me. Smoke fills the van once again, obstructing my view of the man.
"Ben, don't do this."
"What? How… how do you know my name?"
The man slumps over the steering wheel and I simply hold on to the car, cowardly leaning my head away and holding my breath.
"Sir! Hey!" A voice booms out right behind me.
Arms wrap around my chest and pull me away from the car. I'm dragged backwards as the black smoke rises from the burning van. Fire hoses douse the wreckage as I cough and lay slumped on the grass ten feet from the woman and her child.
Chapter 12
I'm released from the county hospital just before midnight and the police have my car waiting for me in the parking lot. Other than some minor smoke inhalation and first degree burns on my ankles, I'm perfectly fine physically. Mentally, I'm exactly where I was before all the excitement happened fifty feet from my tree. I would not let them call Emily, so she probably has no idea what transpired and although I did see news vans for all the major Baltimore TV stations in the parking lot when I looked out the window, I managed to avoid the interviews that were requested.
After spending the night in a local motel, I change into a questionably clean pair of shorts and T-shirt that I found in my trunk and head to a department store that opens at eight to buy some clothes to wear to work. I really don't know what else to do. I probably should take the day off, but even if Emily isn't home I don't want to take a chance that I might see Nina or worse yet her husband Tom.
Inside the dressing room, I change into jeans and a button down shirt, and head to the register carrying my gym clothes.
"Do you have scissors?" I ask.
The female cashier pulls a set from the counter and hands them to me. Our eyes meet and from the way she looks at me I think she knows me, but she doesn't mention it.
I hand her the tags and she rings me up. After sliding my card through the machine, she says, "I thought I recognized you."
"What?"
"Ben Hunter." Smiling, she hands me back the card. "You're the guy that saved that woman and her baby, right?"
I look around to see if anyone else is listening and discover we're alone. "Um, well, yeah. How did you—"
"Saw your picture on the news last night. You're like a hero. Wow, you could have been killed."
"Yeah." I frown.
When I leave the store, I check my cell phone and find no missed calls or voice mails. If Emily knew, she probably would have called, so I'm sure she has no idea. I arrive at work and slip into my office, passing a few coworkers along the way, but no one mentions anything about the accident.
Inside my office, I close the door and gaze out the window at nothing in particular. I'm back here and I have no idea what to do now. How strange is it going to look to return to the site of the accident and do what I was going to do yesterday? Now I need to pick a new place, and for that matter, probably a new way to do it— this really sucks. If some random cashier recognized me, I'm sure it won't be long before word spreads through the office. Now I've got to wait at least until my story is a forgotten one before I can make any plans.
I open the door to my office and take a look down the empty hallway before returning to my desk. After going through the messages in my inbox, I grab a cup of tea and as I'm walking back to my office I see Greg approaching, briefcase in hand. He gives me a huge smile. "Ben, what the hell?"
"Good morning," I say hesitantly.
"What, uh, you needed to leave early so you could be a hero?"
"No, I—"
When he reaches me, he extends his hand. "Jesus Christ, remind me to keep you close by if I ever get in a car accident. I heard you lifted the car off the woman who was trapped under—"
"No, no, I just pulled her out of the car. It's totally not a big deal."
"Oh..." He makes a face. "Is that all? I heard the man died this morning."
"Shit." Preoccupied with that news, I take a sip of scalding tea and grimace as I walk past Greg toward my office. I mutter, "Shit, the one day it's actually hot…"
"What?" He follows behind me.
"Never mind."
"Was there an explosion?" Greg's eyes widen. "Oh, sorry, we can talk later. I didn't know you were in a meeting."
"Meeting?" Following his gaze, I turn to look in my doorway and discover a man sitting in the chair across from my desk. "Oh, hey, um—"
"Ben." Nodding, the man rises to his feet and approaches the door looking past me to my boss. "Don't let this one get away."
"We wouldn't let that happen," Greg replies, wearing a warm smile.
My mouth drops open confused as I shift my gaze from Greg back to the man in my office. "Did we have an appointment or, uh..."
The man chuckles. "Must be a little confused from all the excitement from yesterday."
"What?" Suddenly, I notice the unmistakable stars bracelet tattoo and I return to study the man's face.
The man slips past me to Greg. "You mind if I steal him for a few minutes?"
"No, certainly not."
The man shakes Greg's hand and turns to me. With a wave of his finger he directs me to my desk. Shuffling my way to the chair, I sit. I make eye contact with my similarly confused looking boss as the man closes the door and returns to the chair. "Ben. Ben. Ben." He shakes his head and gives me a smile.
"Yeah." I'm once again staring at his wrist tattoo.
Raising his arm up, he gives me a better view of it. "You like?"
"Are you..." I narrow my eyes. "You couldn't, um, you're his brother or something with matching tattoos, right?"
"No, I'm him or is it I'm he?" He looks to me for a response.
"I'm not sure," I reply, confused by more than just the grammar question.
"I was never any good at English, and what the hell does it matter now?" He shrugs, smiling.
"Okay... just to be sure we're talking about the same him, which, um, him are you... exactly?"
Chuckling, he rises from the chair and picks up a book from the shelf. "Ben Hunter, what am I going to do with you?"
"Fuck if I know."
"Have you read this?" He asks, holding up the book.
"Yeah, it's great." I reply without even looking at the title and run my hands over my mostly bald head, giving him an exhausted look.
"I should have read more."
"We all should read more... Now, again just to be clear—"
"Yes, Ben." Placing the book back on the shelf, he looks me in the eye. "I'm the guy whose wife and child you saved yesterday."
"Okay." I gaze at him, unblinkingly.
"And by the way, thank you for doing that."
"Sure." I point directly at him. "But, I, uh, thought you died."
"Yep." He frowns a moment then suddenly smiles. "How's it feel?"
"How's what feel?"
"Being a hero."
After pondering that a moment, I reply, "I feel pretty crappy, like I do every other day."
"Cheer up. You're alive."
"That's easy for you to say." Studying his face closely, I hold my chin up with two fingers. "So, um, not that I don't believe you or anything, but can you prove that you are the guy?"
Shrugging, he tilts his head. "Don't I look familiar?"
"A little, but yesterday... the guy was in pretty bad shape— bloody and bruised— a mess, really."
"Yeah, but I came back."
"Okayyyy, but, um—"
"Look." He sighs. "I went up." He points to the ceiling a
nd my gaze follows him up. "You could say they patched me up... or the image you see is, I don't know... my best self."
"What?"
"We all look our best up there."
I give him a confused look and say slowly, "That's good to know."
"I'm William, but don't call me Will, I hate that."
I return a nod. "Okay."
William returns to the chair and slumps back crossing his legs. "I understand you were trying to kill yourself yesterday."
"What?"
He shoots me a disapproving look. "You know, he doesn't like that."
"Who?"
William points once again to the ceiling, but I don't bother looking.
"I was not trying to kill myself."
Scoffing, he shakes his head. "You're really going to lie to me?"
"What? No, I, uh—"
"We'll save a lot of time if you're honest with me. I know all about the tree and your wife Emily and the fertility issue... that's sad because kids are great."
"I know, I've heard," I reply with a slightly sarcastic tone.
"Oh and Nina... ohhh, wow, she's hot..." He raises his eyebrows at me for a moment before his expression morphs into a frown. "You really shouldn't have taken advantage of her when she was… she was really upset and—"
"Hey, I didn't…" My jaw drops as I plead, "We were both drinking and she kinda started it so, I don’t think—"
"Well, obviously." He scoffs.
"What the hell's that supposed to mean?"
"Come on. She is so out of your league. She never would have slept with you if she wasn't drunk."
"Hey, wait, I'm in great shape for guy my age."
William shoots me a skeptical look.
"All right, in decent shape anyway."
He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. But you saw she was starting to cry after you…" He motions with his hand while making a face. "…you know, did you really need to keep going and going?"
"I thought those were tears of joy." Sighing, I rub my forehead. "How do you know all this stuff?"
"I've been briefed."
"Briefed?" I take a few moments to process all this. "Are you saying, um, He..." I point to the ceiling. "Set all this up to keep me from, you know... He took your life to save mine?"
He laughs.
"What?" I ask, confused.
"Look, don't flatter yourself. I am where I am because it was my time— nobody was up there looking out for you. And my time, I suppose unfortunately for you, but fortunately for my wife and daughter..." He brings his fists together twice to emphasize the point. "...coincided with your plans yesterday."
"Oh..." Turning to look out the window, I ponder that a bit. "So, were your wife and daughter supposed to die yesterday as well?"
"Yeah, and they're not too happy about that up there. Evidently it was their time too."
I return to look him in the eye. "What do they need you all up there for?"
He simply shrugs. "Got me."
I scoff. "I mean, I never understood that God needs a first baseman garbage."
"What are you taking about?"
"Like when a child dies who plays baseball we're all told it was God's plan… he's in a better place and like he needed another kid for his team or some crap."
"It is a better place, but I didn't see any baseball games going on up there."
"Well, you were only up there for what, like half a day, so…"
He nods in agreement.
After taking a deep breath, I raise my palms up in confusion. "Will, so what are you—"
"It's William."
"That's right. William, so, what are you doing here exactly?"
"I came to thank you and I'm also here to help you."
"Help me? How can you help me?"
"You hate your life, right?"
I scoff. "Well, yeah..."
"How'd you like another shot at it?"
"Shot at what?"
"Life. Your life." He gives me a wide eyed look.
"I don't know what you're talking about. How can you give me another shot?"
Rising up from his chair, he motions for the door. "Can we take a walk?"
"Where?"
"I'd like you to show me around the warehouse."
"What the hell does a warehouse tour have to do with giving me another—"
"It just does."
I frown. "It's loud and hot and it smells kinda bad out there. Are you sure?"
He gives me an exhausted look and sighs, waiting.
"All right." I stand and grab my phone off the desk.
Chapter 13
We make our way through row after row of office cubicles, then through the break room and out the double doors to the warehouse of building six. I lead my dead friend through this newer section of the complex, pointing out the features in our state of the art distribution system with as much enthusiasm as I can muster. The plant is comprised of multiple, seemingly random, interconnected buildings built at different times spread over decades as the business grew. We leave the quiet high rack bulk storage areas of building six and enter building five, hearing the loud whirl of its intricate rolling conveyor system. It's got to be approaching ninety degrees in the un-air-conditioned huge steel box of a structure. He's looking all around, mesmerized at the equipment, then he stops and his eye follows a single box until it disappears, turning a corner on its journey to the shipping area. We start walking again, keeping to the defined pedestrian path as workers rush around on foot and driving fork lifts all around us.
"There it is," William says and picks up speed taking off ahead of me.
"What?" I ask, but he doesn't respond. When we're twenty feet from the tunnel, which connects the new buildings to the older ones, I stop walking.
Suddenly he turns and gives me a bright eyed look. "This is it."
"Where are we going?"
"Back in time. You do want to go back, don't you?"
"Um... well, it depends on exactly what you mean, because I really hated high school and if I've got to go back and deal with all that crap again then forget—"
"Would you just trust me?" He groans and waits for my reply.
"Okay. All right."
Nodding, he spins back toward the tunnel and heads off.
I follow behind him and ask loudly over the hum of a vehicle pulling a pallet of boxes as it approaches. "But really, exactly where the hell are we going?"
"To the old building," he says. I catch up to him and we walk side by side and he adds, "Do you know when they broke ground on this building we’re standing in right now?"
"No."
He stops walking and turns to look at me. "July third, nineteen eighty eight."
He waits seemingly for that information to sink in. Seconds later when it does, I mumble, "Shit, that's, um, wow…" Smiling, my mind drifts away as I take a deep breath. Then I shake my head, confused. "But, how—"
He shrugs. "All I know is that you can do this. I can help you do this, but only if you do it today… now. Are you in?"
"Yes."
He turns and heads into the tunnel, which is over five hundred feet long. It's about fifteen feet wide and passes over a stream and a wide valley that separates the two structures. He walks quickly with me trailing a few steps behind him, and midway through a scooter comes toward us driven by a warehouse manager. I nod without looking at the driver as he flies past us and quicken my pace to catch up to William.
We turn the corner at the end of the tunnel and step into building four, which was built sometime in the mid-sixties. Suddenly a loud explosion rocks the building, the lights flicker on and off, and I raise my hands up in an effort to steady myself. Seconds later the lights in the building go out completely, but the floor still feels like it's moving.
"William?" I ask.
He doesn't reply.
I wait while struggling to keep my balance then it’s over— the shaking subsides, the lights come on and I find I cannot see clearly. Everything's blurry; all
I see are shapes and shadows. "What's going on?"
"We're here," he says.
I see a figure standing near me who I think is William and I reach out for him. "I can't see."
"Really?"
"Yes, I think you blinded me. Some angel you are. What the hell am I supposed to do now?"
"Oh, I, uh," he says and I feel his hands on my arm. "Let me think a minute."
"Great. This is just great," I mutter.
"Do you wear contacts?"
"Yeah."
"Take them out."
I remove my right lens and closing my left eye, I find I can see pretty well. "Thank God." After removing the other lens, I blink my eyes a few times and smile as things comes into focus. Everything looks so out of place; the racking is different and there are two warehouse workers dressed in clothes that don't look right, don't fit with what I know. I shake my head and take it all in.
William stands next to me and when my eyes meet his, he simply smiles back at me. "Pretty cool, huh?"
"What."
"We're actually here."
I grimace, confused before turning around and looking back to where the tunnel entrance should be. It's not there and I blink several times. The only thing there is a solid cinder block wall. I turn to William and he's wearing a silly grin.
I rush to a door to the right of where the tunnel should be and push it open; ignoring the emergency exit warning sign in the process. The alarm that should be blaring isn't. The sunlight blasts me in the face and it takes a moment for my eyes to adjust from the poorly lit warehouse. Shielding my eyes, I look across the valley to where the building I work in should be and it's not there either. Instead heavy machinery rolls through a flat piece of undeveloped land. My gaze moves in to the green edge of the valley then to the stream below.
I turn to William, giving my eyes a moment to adjust back to the low building's light, and I'm speechless. I feel different as well. I'm not me, or I'm not the same guy I was just moments before. With my hand I feel my stomach and it's flat. No longer is there the pouch of a forty-five year old man. I can feel the hard young muscles under my skin.